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Chapter Text

To say Klavier was very drunk would be an understatement. In the month since Kristoph’s execution, it wouldn’t be the first time Klavier had nursed a bottle (nor the second, nor the third, nor the fourth…) When Apollo entered his boyfriend’s house, he could practically smell the booze in the air. He paused at the door, eyeing Klavier’s outstretched form on the couch. He wasn’t sure whether it was better that Klavier was getting drunk in private, or if that was even more alarming. He was worried all the same.

“Klavier,” he called sharply, the other man not having stirred at Apollo’s homecoming.

Apollo earned a grunt of acknowledgement in response. He clenched his hands. “You’re drunk again,” he said flatly.

He heard the blonde laugh wryly. “Ja,” he said roughly.

Apollo waited for some sort of explanation. When none came, he bit the inside of his cheek, knuckles turning white. He was a good boyfriend. He had been patient and understanding and most of all supportive. He had given Klavier water and aspirin in the morning, cooked him greasy breakfasts, and when all was said and done, offered a willing ear. The last was an offer that his boyfriend repeatedly turned down. Apollo was at a loss.

“This has to stop,” he said with false confidence.

When Klavier didn’t respond, didn’t even look at him, Apollo pushed forward. “I know you’ve been having a rough time, but—”

Klavier cut him off abruptly. “You know, do you?” he challenged. He always had been an angry drunk.

Everything went downhill from there, ending in Apollo throwing his hands in the air and storming out.  Klavier was stubborn and obstinate at the best of times, and alcohol only made it that much worse. Klavier couldn’t be bothered to follow him; the room was spinning too fast. Klavier didn’t manage to get up until nearly an hour after Apollo had left.

He had a headache. Klavier stumbled his way to the bathroom, his hands feeling along the wall for stability. Once inside, he wrenched open his medicine cabinet, peering blearily at the bottles. His eyes were swimming, and he instinctively reached for his bottle of aspirin, knocking over everything else on the shelf in the process.

How many of these was he supposed to take? The words blurred together when he tried to read the directions. His mind drifted to Kristoph, and Daryan, and Professor Courte, the memories making his chest clench. If only he had pills that could take that pain away. He opened the bottle, and right before pouring a couple pills into his palm, he thought of Apollo. He hadn’t even needed a murder to push him away. He’d managed that all on his own.

Fuck it, he thought, before downing the entire bottle.

Ironically, when he woke up in the hospital the next day, his headache was even worse.

 
Sunlight streamed in through the window, casting warm natural light across his bed. His toes were warm, and when the sun passed behind a cloud, a chill ran through him. With consciousness came a searing headache, like his skull was an egg that had been cracked. He groaned in pain, or attempted to. His mouth was too dry to make any noise. He opened his eyes. Everything was still blurry, but he could identify that he was in a hospital bed. He felt an awkward tightness in his arm, and glancing down confirmed that he had an IV. He flexed his fingers and toes experimentally, relieved to find that they moved. That was about as much as he could do with his current strength.

He was still blinking at his surroundings, disoriented, when a nurse walked in to replace his IV. She smiled at him softly when she saw he was awake.

“Good evening, Mr. Gavin,” she said, with a smooth dulcet tone.

Klavier tried to return the greeting, only to find his mouth felt like it was filled with cotton.

“I bet you’re thirsty,” the nurse said, fetching him a cup of water.

She adjusted his bed so that he was sitting up, and held the cup to his lips. He drank heartily, a drop escaping out the corner of his mouth.

“Danke,” he finally replied, mouth still dry, causing his voice to crack.

She smiled, quickly giving him some more water. “Do you know where you are?” she asked gently after the second cup.

“The hospital,” he replied quickly. He’d been able to figure out that much, at least.

She nodded, beginning to replace his IV. “Do you know why you’re here?” she asked.

Klavier blinked, his memories of the night before all a hazy fog. “I was very drunk,” he mused. “Did I do something foolish?” he ventured.

The nurse gave him a mildly amused look. “You could say that. You overdosed on pain medication,” she explained.

It all slowly came back to Klavier, tidbits of clarity trickling through the fog in his mind. When he remembered what he’d done, the only thing he felt was shame. It was thick and putrid, he felt it hot on his face, and he wished he had the strength to smother himself with his pillow.

His nurse was still talking. “Mixing medicine and alcohol is always bad news. You need to be more careful,” she scolded lightly. “You’re very lucky, your boyfriend will be very happy.”

Klavier certainly didn’t feel lucky at the moment. Then her words caught up to him. “Apollo,” he gasped, looking at the nurse with wide eyes. “Where is he?”

The nurse put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “He went home to rest. He’ll be back soon, to take you home, I’m sure.”

Klavier nodded, and when the nurse left, it occurred to him that she was oblivious to the reality of what he did. He could only hope Apollo was the same. Not even an hour later, his tiny boyfriend appeared, walking tentatively into Klavier’s room.

Klavier managed a charming smile, though he knew it didn’t reach his eyes. “Herr Forehead,” he called warmly, though it was rough around the edges. “How nice of you to visit.”

The greeting was as fake as his smile, and from the look in Apollo’s eyes, Klavier knew he hadn’t fooled anyone. Apollo stared at Klavier as if seeing him for the first time, eyes wide and his face unreadable. Klavier’s smile fell as he watched Apollo practically collapse into the chair at his bedside. Apollo let out a shaky breath as both of his hands reached up to grasp one of Klavier’s.

“Please,” he began, voice cracking. “Please tell me this was an accident.”

Klavier couldn’t meet Apollo’s eyes, instead staring down at their joined hands. A moment passed, stretching on endlessly, and Klavier realized Apollo’s hands were shaking. His grasp was tight, trying to be comforting and strong, but the tremors moved all the way up Klavier’s arm.

Klavier was still staring at their hands when he spoke. “You’d just know that I was lying,” he said quietly, eyeing the bracelet on Apollo’s wrist.

An uneasy silence filled the room, Apollo’s only reaction was to tighten his grip on Klavier’s hands. It was painful, but not unwelcome. Klavier chanced a glance at Apollo’s face, and he saw his own unease and fear reflected back. Now, instead of just his hands, Apollo’s whole body shook.

After a minute, Apollo let out a shuddering breath, not taking his eyes off of Klavier’s. “Okay,” he breathed. Then he steeled his expression. “Okay,” he said, still scared but with an air of determination. “Do you need to stay here awhile?”

Klavier was silent, contemplating the idea. Apollo continued. “It might help, to get away from it all. Just, y’know, focus on you.”

Frankly, that sounded terrifying. Klavier shook his head. “Nein, I just want to go home,” he said heavily.

Apollo watched him, his hands still shaking where they held Klavier’s. He couldn’t claim to know what was best for his boyfriend. At the same time, he was scared Klavier couldn’t either. He just wanted Klavier to be okay.

“Okay,” he said after a few minutes passed. “My place or yours?”

Klavier thought of his own place, big and flashy with expensive furniture and silk sheets. His bathroom was no doubt in disarray. In contrast, he thought of Apollo’s, small and cozy, with broken in mismatching furniture and heavy, quilted blankets.

“Yours,” he said firmly.

Entering Apollo’s apartment was so unbelievably ordinary. Klavier had assumed that the world would feel different after waking up when he shouldn’t have. But everything was the same, Apollo’s apartment still had the same scent, the Los Angeles air was still heavy, and Klavier still felt the same as he had the night before. It was surreal. Periodically, when Apollo wasn’t looking, Klavier would pinch himself to make sure he wasn’t still asleep.

Klavier let Apollo guide him to his worn couch, sitting and letting the cushions sink beneath him. Apollo busied himself, and came back a few minutes later with tea and a soft blanket. He pressed the mug into Klavier’s hands and draped the blanket over his shoulders, wrapping him tight. Apollo switched on the TV before curling into Klavier’s side.

Klavier watched blankly, cocooned and letting the mug warm his hands. He tried to imagine that the warmth was life flowing back into him. Apollo wove his arms around him, resting his head on Klavier’s chest. It was so familiar, and Klavier could almost pretend that the past twenty-four hours had never happened.

The feeling of Apollo’s hands fisted in his shirt was a constant reminder that they had. Klavier’s heart thumped in his chest, and he noted that Apollo’s ear was pressed right over it.

Apollo was the first one to speak. “I can’t just pretend this didn’t happen,” he breathed.

Klavier’s hands tightened around his mug. He stared into it, watching the steam rise up and disappear. “I know,” he replied.

Apollo sat up to watch Klavier’s face, trying to read his expression. “Will you talk about it?” he asked, his voice pleading.

Klavier just nodded. He owed Apollo that much. He turned his body to face Apollo, his back pressed against the arm of the couch. Apollo sat in front of him, legs crossed and wringing his hands. Klavier was quiet, eyes glazed over as he stared into space. This wasn’t the Klavier that Apollo knew, and seeing him this way was unnerving.

Apollo’s eyes were filled with confusion. He just wanted to understand. “Are you unhappy?” he guessed.

The corners of Klavier’s mouth tightened in a frown. Was he unhappy? He certainly wasn’t depressed, but he wasn’t necessarily happy either. “Nein, just… overwhelmed,” he replied.

Apollo nodded. Overwhelmed was something he could understand, and Klavier had plenty of reason to be overwhelmed with the events of the past couple years. It still didn’t explain why his boyfriend decided to swallow a bottle of pills, but it was a start.

Apollo tried to keep his voice as nonjudgmental as possible for his next question. “Can you tell me what you were thinking?”

Klavier traced the rim of his mug with his finger. “I don’t remember much. I was very drunk.”

Apollo couldn’t help but chuckle slightly. “Yeah, no kidding.” His laughter was weak, but it brought a hint of a smile back to Klavier’s face.

Klavier’s expression darkened again, as he tried to remember what had been going through his mind. “I had a headache,” he recalled. “And I held the bottle and I thought ‘why not?’” He shrugged weakly. “That’s the last thing I remember.”

Apollo shifted uneasily at Klavier’s explanation. His chest tightened at the thought, the fact that his wonderful boyfriend, Klavier, of all people, had thought something so horrible.

“You don’t remember calling me?” Apollo asked.

Klavier’s breath caught in his throat. “I… called you?”

Apollo nodded, eyes glazing over at the memory. “Yeah, a little over an hour after I left, you called. You were so drunk I could barely understand you, you just kept saying ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry.’ I—” Apollo’s voice cracked. “I thought you were apologizing about the fight so I came back and…” He trailed off, covering his mouth with his hand.

Klavier could only imagine the sight that had greeted Apollo when he returned. His throat felt impossibly tight. “I’m sorry, Schatzi.”

Apollo shook his head, and Klavier could see tears brimming in his eyes. “There’s nothing for you to be sorry for. Just…” Apollo’s whole body shook at his next question. “Are you going to do it again?”

Klavier’s immediate response was “Nein, of course not.” But the words died in his throat. If you had asked Klavier a week ago, he would have said the same thing. Of all the recent revelations, that was the scariest. Who do you trust when you can’t trust your own mind?

“I…” Klavier began, his own voice shaking. Apollo wasn’t the only one scared. “I didn’t think I was going to do it the first time.”

The weight of his words hung in the air between them. The only sound was Apollo’s weighted breaths as he tried to collect his thoughts. He’d never imagined he would be in this position. There’d been no warnings, no time to prepare, and suddenly new responsibilities had been thrust upon him. His relationship with Klavier was going to change, and he didn’t have the first clue where to start.

Wasn’t there supposed to be a buildup to a breakdown?

Or maybe there had been one and he’d simply missed it.

Apollo let out one last deep breath before meeting Klavier’s eyes. “I think you should take some time off and we can…” He wasn’t sure what they were going to do, what the first step was. “We can figure this out.”

Klavier nodded. As much as he hated to leave work, even he couldn’t deny that current circumstances suggested a break. Hopefully he could sort out the fog in his head.

“Ja, I think that’s a good idea,” he agreed.

For the first time that day, Apollo smiled. It was timid and scared, but full of hope all the same. He reached forward to squeeze Klavier’s hand.

“It’ll be okay,” he promised, as much to himself as to Klavier.

Klavier squeezed his hand in return, managing a smile for his boyfriend. It was then that the past few hours caught up to him, and Klavier felt them weighing on his bones.

“I’m tired, Schatzi,” he murmured, sinking back.

Apollo continued to smile, watching him with soft eyes. “I bet.”

Apollo stood, keeping his hand intertwined with Klavier’s. He took Klavier’s mug and set it on the coffee table and slowly led Klavier back into his bedroom. The two sank down into the sheets, burrowing deep in the blankets. For once, Klavier didn’t argue about being the little spoon, content to let Apollo wrap his arms around him.

“I love you,” the defense attorney murmured into his shoulder.

Klavier grasped the hands laced together over his chest, giving them a squeeze. “I love you, too, Schatzi.”

For once in his life, Klavier went to sleep not knowing what tomorrow would bring.

(but at least there would be a tomorrow)

Chapter Text

When Klavier awoke the next day, morning had already passed. He hadn’t been conscious for twelve hours the previous day, and somehow he was still more tired than ever. He never slept in. Somewhere along the line, Klavier’s body had changed.

Apollo’s side of the bed was vacant and cold; the smell of pancakes drifted in through the open door. Klavier’s stomach churned. His head was foggy with hunger, but the thought of actually eating anything made him sick. He wanted to eat, but to do that he had to get out of bed, walk into the kitchen, talk to Apollo, sit and hold a fork and knife in his hands and ignore the elephant in the room. Klavier just wanted to sleep.

He forced himself to get up, his bones aching all the while. He didn’t change or brush his teeth, instead he ambled into the kitchen with undone hair and bleary eyes. Klavier stood back, watching Apollo at the stove who had yet to take notice of Klavier’s presence.

Apollo looked as normal as ever, in casual clothes as he gripped a spatula in his hand and sweat beaded on his brow. Banana peels laid discarded on the counter next to a stack of golden brown pancakes. For a minute, the only sound was the sizzle of batter on the stove. Klavier’s heart throbbed painfully. It was so simple, and Apollo looked content. Klavier didn’t want to ruin that.

But Apollo was anything but oblivious, and when he took notice of Klavier standing awkwardly off to the side, he smiled. “Good morning,” he said gently. “I made banana pancakes, I uh.” A shadow passed over his face for the first time that morning. “I hope you’re hungry.”

It hurt. Apollo was doing his best and trying to take care of Klavier while making him as comfortable as possible. Apollo was a blessing, and Klavier didn’t deserve him. He took a seat at the counter, determined to eat the food his boyfriend made if it killed him.

“It’s hardly morning, Herr Forehead,” Klavier teased. Even though there were a lot of uncertainties floating in the air, Klavier didn’t want Apollo to walk on eggshells.

Apollo’s shoulders relaxed slightly, and he levelled Klavier with an amused gaze. “You’re the one who just rolled out of bed, so don’t even start,” he pointed out as he carried a plate over and set it in front of Klavier.

The blond stared down at the food, taking a knife and fork. He could feel Apollo’s eyes on him, and he steeled his churning stomach, determined to eat. The pancakes in front of him smelled divine, fluffy and decadent, Apollo having spread butter and syrup overtop just the way Klavier liked. His boyfriend sat across from him with his own pancakes, already a quarter of the way through one before Klavier had even taken a bite of his.

Klavier took a deep breath, and cut in, much more delicately than usual. He swirled the pancake in the syrup collecting at the bottom of the plate, watching it soak until it was dark and heavy. Klavier finally brought it to his mouth and chewed, still under Apollo’s watchful gaze.

It was sweet, sickeningly so. He could distinctly taste the syrup and bananas in the dough, and it sat heavily on his tongue. It was delicious, possibly the best food his boyfriend had ever cooked, and all the same it made Klavier’s skin crawl. When he swallowed, it sank to his stomach like a rock.

The sun had risen on another morning, Klavier had opened his eyes and sat with Apollo, when by all rights he shouldn’t have. He was displaced, floating aimlessly in a world he shouldn’t be in. He forced himself to eat. When he looked up, Apollo had already finished, and had taken to watching Klavier with clouded eyes.

Klavier tried to smile, and Apollo returned it, weak and sad. Klavier didn’t even manage to finish half his food when he set down his knife and fork, sure that if he tried to take one more bite he’d vomit. He stared down at the wonderful food his boyfriend had made while the heavy silence hung between them, the subject neither wanted to broach.

Klavier clenched his hands on the edge of the counter. “Schatzi—”

“It’s okay,” Apollo interrupted, rising from his seat and walking to Klavier’s side. “You don’t have to eat,” he said softly, placing a hand over Klavier’s.

Apollo gently wound his arms around him. With Klavier sitting, they were just barely the same height. Apollo pressed a kiss to Klavier’s cheek, his mouth hovering next to his ear.

“I’m proud of you for trying,” he added.

Klavier shuddered in Apollo’s arms, before slowly returning the embrace. He held Apollo close and ducked his head into the crook of his neck.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” he murmured, voice muffled and weak.

Apollo’s chest swelled painfully, and all he could do was squeeze Klavier tighter. They stayed like that for a minute, clinging to each other like a lifeline. The both of them were terrified. Their lover’s arms were familiar, comforting, and warm, but all either could think was that if things had been different, that warmth would have been lost forever. Apollo held him that much tighter.

Eventually, they parted, and Apollo cleaned the dishes while Klavier sat numbly. He wasn’t sure what the next step was. Thankfully, Apollo was there to keep him together.

“I called Mr. Edgeworth yesterday and told him you were in the hospital,” he began, idly washing the dishes. “I, uh, didn’t say why.”

Klavier nodded. “Danke.”

Apollo scrubbed harder at the dishes, refusing to meet Klavier’s eyes. “We’ll need to call him to ask for time off, and I…” He took a deep breath. “I think you should tell him. You’re close and he cares about his subordinates, and I obviously think you should tell Mr. Wright and Athena, and if they know then we can’t keep it from Mr. Edgeworth, but it’s obviously your choice and I don’t want to pressure you…” Apollo babbled nervously.

Klavier couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips. “Herr Forehead,” he called teasingly.

Apollo finally stilled, turning to face Klavier with nervous eyes.

“I think you’re right,” Klavier agreed, and Apollo let out a relieved sigh before turning off the faucet. As much as Klavier didn’t want to let his friends and coworkers know about his, uh, moment of weakness, he also didn’t want to pretend nothing had happened.

He supposed this was a first step.

It was only a few minutes later that Apollo sat next to him, dialing Mr. Edgeworth on speaker while he gripped Klavier’s hand. Klavier’s head spun as the phone rang. Everything was moving too fast for him to keep up.

Edgeworth picked up quickly. “Hello?” his clear, stately voice spoke through the receiver.

“Herr Edgeworth,” Klavier replied.

He heard a relieved sigh on the other end. “Prosecutor Gavin, I’m glad you’re alright,” he said, voice genuine. "Mr. Justice told me you were in the hospital?”

Klavier swallowed, his heart already racing. “Ja, I was,” he admitted.

The obvious question hung in the air, though Edgeworth obviously had enough manners to know not to ask. Klavier fumbled over his words, trying to speak but having the words catch in his throat. There were so many issues Klavier had ignored, and so many unknowns that he would have to sort through. Telling Edgeworth would make them real.

Apollo gave his hands an encouraging squeeze.

Klavier took a deep breath. He recalled an old headline about Edgeworth from when he was in law school, one that no one discussed anymore. It helped ease his nerves slightly.

“I, ach.” Even so, the words had difficulty coming. “I tried to, uh, ‘choose death,’” he finally said, his blood going cold.

Apollo was now rubbing slow circles on the back of his hand. “Herr Edgeworth?” Klavier called nervously after a moment.

“Yes, I’m still here, I just…” Edgeworth spluttered on the other end. It seemed Klavier had rendered his boss speechless for the first time. “I had no idea,” he said, noticeably stunned.

Neither did I, Klavier thought, but refrained from saying.

Edgeworth seemed to collect himself. “My god, are you alright?” he asked with concern.

Klavier couldn’t help but laugh once at that. It was a bit of a loaded question. “I’ll live,” he replied.

Edgeworth noticed his blunder and was once again at a loss for words. “Right, good, of course,” he mumbled.

Klavier tried to dip back into his professional persona, because it was easier than admitting his failures. “I’d like to ask for some time off.”

“Of course,” he replied immediately. “Take as much time as you need, you’ll have paid leave. I’ll hand your cases off, so don’t worry. I don’t even want you to think about work, understand?” Edgeworth easily gained an air of authority, dropping seamlessly into boss mode. It briefly occurred to Klavier that this was his boss’s way of showing he cared.

“Danke, Herr Edgeworth,” he said with a relieved smile. “And I would prefer this didn’t get around to the rest of my coworkers.”

Edgeworth let out an offended huff. “Please, Gavin, what do you take me for? I wouldn’t air your dirty laundry at the water cooler,” he said dismissively.

Klavier knew him well enough to recognize his antics as concern.

Apollo spoke up for the first time. “We’re going to call Mr. Wright next,” he explained.

“Good. I think you’ll find his support helpful.”

Klavier smiled slightly, feeling a weight lift off his bones. “Danke, Herr Edgeworth.”

“Of course. I’ll call you in a few days to check in. If that’s alright,” Edgeworth hastily added.

“I’d welcome that,” Klavier replied.

In the following silence, Apollo moved to hang up when Edgeworth interrupted.

“And Klavier?”

The blond was visibly shaken by the use of his first name. “Ja?”

There was another pause, before Edgeworth spoke again, this time his voice strangely vulnerable. “Be safe,” he said with earnest.

Klavier was quiet for a moment, unsure how to respond. Thankfully Apollo did for him. “I’ll make sure of that, sir,” he promised.

Edgeworth laughed slightly before bidding them goodbye and hanging up. Klavier continued to stare at the phone, still taken aback by the sudden outburst. It was uncharacteristic of his boss to show his emotions so easily. Before that call, Klavier had been unsure whether Edgeworth cared about him at all. Maybe as a prosecutor, but certainly not as a human being. Now Klavier found himself trying to make sense of Edgeworth’s words.

It didn’t help that Apollo turned to him with a warm smile and threaded their fingers together. “I’m so proud of you,” he said, practically glowing.

Klavier stared at him. He didn’t think he’d done anything worthy of praise. He just nodded along, not wanting to ruin the moment.

“Are you ready to call Mr. Wright?”

Klavier braced himself, preparing to repeat the last few minutes all over again.

Chapter Text

Once again Klavier and Apollo sat with bated breath as the phone rang, their hands clasped tightly on Klavier’s knee. The phone rang much longer than it had for Edgeworth. Klavier could vividly imagine Wright digging through the pile of magic knick-knacks and papers trying to find the buzzing phone. He would answer the phone jovially and breathless, ignorant to the news Klavier bore.

The line clicked. “Hi! This is the Wright Anything Agency, dazzling the audience with tricks and turnabout, how may I help you?” sang a young girl on the other end.

Klavier drew in a sharp breath, his hand immediately flying to his mouth. He hadn’t even thought about what he was going to tell Trucy, if he was going to tell her anything. She was so young and impressionable, she always looked at Klavier with stars in her eyes, despite everything he put her through. She idolized him, and god, what kind of example was he setting? He was going to make all that adoration come crashing down, and he couldn’t bear the thought of ruining something else for her.

Apollo saw his distress clear as day and intervened. “Hey Trucy,” he said easily, as if nothing was wrong (as if Klavier wasn’t hyperventilating beside him). “Is Mr. Wright there?”

“Polly!” Trucy shrieked excitedly. “Yeah he’s right here; say hi to Polly, Daddy!” she called away from the phone.

A slightly softer voice called back. “Hey, Apollo.”

This was quickly followed by yet another excited greeting. “Apollo! We missed you today!” Athena called brightly, and Klavier imagined her waving happily at the phone as if Apollo could see.

Apollo smiled, letting out a light chuckle. “Mr. Wright, I need to finish telling you about what happened the other day,” he said, speaking with sudden seriousness and urgency.

There was a short pause before Wright spoke up. “Girls, I think the toilet needs to be cleaned again,” he said, followed by a series of indignant groans.

“What? But we just cleaned it!” Athena whined.

“Wasn’t good enough,” Wright said smugly.

Apollo let out a relieved sigh, glad that Mr. Wright got the hint without him having to spell it out. In the shuffling that ensued, Apollo turned to Klavier at his side.

“Are you alright?” he asked under his breath.

Klavier still had his hand clapped over his mouth, his muscles still tensed from Trucy’s intrusion. He nodded slowly, even though it wasn’t quite true. The thought of Trucy filled him with dread, all the weight that had been lifted upon speaking to Edgeworth returned tenfold. His chest panged with guilt, and not for the first time, it occurred to him how foolish he had been.

Apollo sighed, giving Klavier a dubious look to let him know he didn’t need his bracelet to know Klavier was a filthy liar. But otherwise he let it go, just giving his hand a soft squeeze.

A soft beep signaled that Wright had taken them off speakerphone. “What’s up?” he asked with obvious concern.

Apollo turned back to the phone. “Klavier’s here.”

“Guten Tag, Herr Wright,” Klavier said.

“Good to hear from you,” Phoenix replied, voice brightening. “I’m glad you didn’t kick the bucket just yet,” he teased.

To say the following silence was awkward would be a massive understatement.

Apollo glanced nervously to Klavier. To his relief that blond was wearing a bemused smirk. He caught Apollo’s eyes and gave him a nod to let him know it was all okay. If anything, Wright’s blunder was amusing.

“Uh, did I say something wrong?” Phoenix asked after a long pause.

Klavier ran a nervous hand through his hair, taking a deep breath. “I was in the hospital because I overdosed,” he said in one long exhale.

The meaning was lost on Phoenix. “I know, and I’m glad you’re okay—”

“Intentionally, Herr Wright.”

Once again a thick, impenetrable silence filled the air. Klavier noted that Apollo was rubbing circles into the small of his back. It was intended to be comforting, but Klavier could barely feel it. He was disconnected from his body at the moment, his entire being hanging in the air with his words.

Phoenix pulled himself together long enough to fumble out a reply. “You’re, you’re kidding, right? This is a joke. Am I being Punk’d?”

Klavier gave him a moment to glance around for hidden cameras. “Even I wouldn’t make such a tasteless joke,” he pointed out. “Despite what you think, I am a decent human being.” Despite his chastising words, his tone was light and airy, completely unbefitting the topic at hand.

Phoenix let out a long sigh. “I know, I just…” Klavier distinctly heard him slump down into a chair. “I just saw you the other day and you were fine! Did something happen?”

Klavier was quiet. It was true that he had seen Wright earlier in the week. They’d bumped into each other in the elevator at the Prosecutor’s Office and exchanged small talk on the ride up. Klavier had asked about Trucy, Phoenix had subtly tried to offer condolences for Kristoph’s death. Though given that this was Phoenix it was subtle at all.

Klavier’s first thought was to say that life happened, that the past two years had finally caught up to him and drained the fight out of him. But that wasn’t really something for Wright’s (or Apollo’s) ears. So he simply shrugged.

“Nothing happened, I was just very drunk,” he explained.

Phoenix was clearly not convinced. “Klavier…” His voice carried an apprehensive tinge.

Klavier pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s fine, Herr Wright, we’re sorting through it,” he insisted. The implication, of course, was that it wasn’t fine.

Never one to quit while he was ahead, Phoenix pressed on. “How are you feeling?”

Klavier closed his eyes, holding back a groan. He’d only spoken to a handful of people, and how he already hated answering that question. His “feelings” were fluid and enigmatic, sloshing turbulently inside him like the sea in a storm, running just as deep. Klavier tried to grasp them, to let them flow through his veins and neatly package them into words, but they slipped through his fingers. All he knew was his feelings stirred in his gut, rotting him from the inside out.

“How do you think I’m feeling?” he bit out before he could stop.

Both Apollo and Phoenix sucked in a sharp breath, like they’d startled a frightened animal. Klavier wanted to scream. He understood their hearts were in the right place, and that Phoenix spoke only out of concern for his well-being. But god, he wasn’t a child. He and Phoenix hardly ever spoke, yet here he was, acting like he was Klavier’s father, slipping into the same fatherly role he did with Apollo. Under different circumstances, Klavier may have welcomed it. But right then, everyone was trying to act like his family. Klavier didn’t need another family member to let him down, thank you.

It was… overwhelming. (Overwhelming just like it had been before. And frankly that thought was terrifying).

Apollo spoke up to fill the silence. “Mr. Wright, can you get Athena?”

Phoenix shook himself out of his shock. “Yeah, just a mom—”

“Wait,” Klavier said urgently. Phoenix immediately silenced. “Before you put her on, I need to ask. What, ach, what are you going to tell Fräulein Trucy?” Near the end his voice shook unnaturally, and Klavier clenched his fist.

An icy cold tension filled the air as Phoenix struggled to find a way to respond. “I… don’t know,” he finally spoke. “She’ll find out one way or another. She’s always been much too smart for me.”

Klavier stared down at his hands. He hadn’t bothered putting on his rings when he woke. Now he wished he had, if only for something to occupy him.

“Ja, she’s brilliant,” he murmured idly.

Phoenix hummed proudly in agreement. “She’s sixteen, I can’t think she’s ignorant to… this. I haven’t sat her down or anything, I mean. I gave her the generic ‘you can always come talk to me’ spiel, but I never…” He sighed, heavy and slow. It sounded how Klavier felt. “Maybe this is as good a time as any?”

Klavier continued to stare down. “Ja, maybe.”

“Would you like to talk to her?”

Klavier made a strangled choking sound. “Ach! But, Herr Wright,” he spluttered. “She’s your daughter?”

He was having a hard enough time trying to tell other adults. How could anyone possibly trust him to talk to a child? And not just any child, but Trucy? She was impressionable and so impossibly sweet, and Klavier could so easily ruin that. He would say the wrong thing and fumble with his words, and in the end Trucy would be more confused. What was Wright thinking?

Phoenix spoke gently. “Yes, but this really isn’t my secret to share,” he pointed out, words assuring. “I can certainly do it if you’re uncomfortable.”

“Ach, I couldn’t…” Klavier could feel the cold sweat on his brow. “What would she think of me?”

Immediately Apollo’s hands clenched around Klavier’s, his palms tight and shaking. Phoenix fell quiet, choosing his words carefully.

“She’ll think the same of you as she does now,” he said firmly. “Klavier, she adores you. And I mean you, not the celebrity. There’s nothing you could say that would change that,” he promised.

Klavier frowned, dark lines forming on his face as he furrowed his brow. “I don’t feel particularly worthy of adoration right now.”

A pained sound escaped Apollo as he clamped a hand over his mouth. A shudder ran through Klavier at the sound, and he wished he’d just stayed in bed.

Phoenix’s words were soothing. “I know.” Then, Klavier could practically hear the smirk in his voice. “But that’s certainly not going to stop Trucy.”

Klavier let out a shaky laugh. “Can I think about it?” he asked with trepidation.

“Sure. But like I said, think fast. Trucy will find out soon enough.” He laughed deeply, and eventually Apollo and Klavier joined in.

Apollo nudged his boyfriend gently. “Mr. Wright just wants you to do all the hard work for him,” he said playfully.

“You got me there,” Phoenix said in agreement.

Klavier couldn’t help but smile, and he could feel his face warming.

Phoenix continued. “Now, are you ready for Athena?” he asked.

Apollo groaned. “I don’t think anyone’s ever quite ready for Athena,” he muttered.

Phoenix laughed as he called over his other subordinate. While Athena scrambled over, Apollo inched his chair closer to Klavier so that their knees brushed. Wordlessly, he gave Klavier a concerned look, which Klavier returned with a soft smile. He noted that Apollo’s eyes shined wetly, and he wondered when that had happened. He had been so busy sorting through his own emotions, he hadn’t taken notice of Apollo.

He looked away quickly, refusing to make eye contact.

“Hey Apollo!” Athena’s bright, sunny voice rang through the apartment. “It’s really boring without you here today! Boss keeps making me work,” she groaned.

Apollo smiled while rolling his eyes. “Yeah that’s because I’m the only one in the office that actually does anything.”

Klavier could hear the pout in her voice. “That’s really mean! I do work, too!” she insisted.

Apollo smirked. “Getting Trucy to teach you magic tricks and arm wrestling our clients is not working.”

The sound of Athena blowing a raspberry came through clearly. “But I get paid for it,” she said smugly.

Klavier couldn’t help but laugh, muffling it into the back of his hand.

Athena gasped loudly. “Is that Klavier? Hi Klavier!” she shouted.

Apollo winced. “Don’t be so loud,” he grumbled.

Klavier just smiled, relieved to hear someone being happy. “Guten Tag, Spatzi,” he said affectionately.

Athena pretended to swoon, sighing dramatically. “Guten Tag, Schneckerl!” she chirped.

Klavier smiled wistfully, wishing that he didn’t have to ruin the mood. And damn Athena’s powers of perception, because she didn’t even need Klavier to say anything to sense something was wrong.

“What’s up?” she asked as the air chilled, the smile gone from her voice.

Klavier’s own smile faded, replaced with a grim frown. “I did something very foolish, Thena,” he started, his own words heavy and weary.

“I take it this is why Apollo isn’t in today?” she guessed.

Klavier could see her standing in the middle of the Wright Anything Agency, lips pursed while she held the phone in one hand and the other fiddling with her earring. “Ja.”

“Well,” Athena began. “It wouldn’t be the first time we helped you out of a pickle.” Her voice was like a warm summer breeze.

He imagined her gentle smile, ignorant and waiting patiently. Just like Edgeworth and Wright had been. It wore on Klavier. He had already been tired, before he’d even woken up in the hospital. The process of talking to others was tiring. Now, every time he opened his mouth he had to relive the shame of his decision. It was exhausting. Living was exhausting.

“I tried to kill myself, Spatzi,” he said, and for once his voice felt as tired as he felt.

The room fell silent once again as Apollo visibly flinched. It was the first time either had admitted to the reality of what Klavier had done. Klavier was already tired of talking in circles and avoiding the words like they would burn his tongue.

“Apollo, are you still there?” Athena asked after a minute.

“Yeah?”

“Can I speak to Klavier alone for a bit?” she asked firmly, as if she knew what she was doing.

Well at least one of us does, Klavier thought. Apollo glanced at his boyfriend, who gave him a nod. Apollo returned the gesture, standing up and leaning over to press a gentle kiss to Klavier’s forehead. The blond closed his eyes, flushing slightly at the familiar attention. When he pulled back, he shared a reassuring smile with Klavier.

“You can go in the bedroom, and I’ll be out here if you need me,” he said softly.

“Danke,” Klavier murmured, picking up the phone and making his way to the bedroom.

The door shut behind him with a sense of finality and Klavier collapsed heavily on the bed. He laid on his back, long legs hanging off the end. He brought the phone to his ear, thinking that he could easily fall asleep like this.

“Hello,” he called.

“Hi.”

Klavier closed his eyes. “Now, what was so important that you had to get me alone?” he teased, trying to obscure the sickness he felt.

Athena was much too perceptive to fall for his act. “When did this happen?” she asked, cutting right to the heart of the matter.

Klavier sighed. “The night before last.”

Athena hummed thoughtfully. “Have you talked to anyone?”

Klavier turned on his side, one hand idly tracing the stitching in Apollo’s blanket. “I’ve spoken to many people. Herr Forehead, Herr Ruffles, your boss, and last but not least you, meine Spatzi,” he said, intentionally avoiding the heart of her question.

“Klavier,” Athena chastised sharply, exasperation evident. “I meant have you talked to a professional.”

Klavier sighed. “Nein,” he admitted.

Athena hummed again, and Klavier wished he had her ears so he could tell what she was thinking. “Would you like to?” she asked.

Klavier frowned, his nose wrinkling distastefully. “Not particularly.”

He could hear Athena pouting again. “Why not?” she practically whined.

“I can think of many more enjoyable things than sitting in a chair and talking about my childhood. It sounds uncomfortable.”

Athena scoffed. “You wouldn’t only talk about your childhood,” she huffed. “Besides, sometimes doing uncomfortable things is good for us.”

“Ja, ja. I don’t really want to talk about my adulthood either,” he admitted.

“Have you ever tried?” Athena asked gently.

The obvious answer was “no.” Klavier just groaned, grabbing a pillow from the head of the bed and burying his face in it. It was times like these that Klavier regretted working alongside a bunch of human lie detectors. At least Apollo and Phoenix needed to have magical items on them, granted Apollo never took his off. But Athena was impossible.

Athena gave him a moment before speaking again. “Would you like to talk to me?” she offered.

Klavier went quiet. “Thena, I couldn’t ask you to do that,” he murmured.

Klavier couldn’t imagine what someone might uncover if they tried to pick his brain. He assumed it wouldn’t be anything pleasant. The inside of his head these days was dark and murky, and he wasn’t keen to share that with anyone, least of all a friend. He couldn’t burden her with that. It was his burden to bear.

“Schneckerl,” she said, her tone that of a mother arguing with their child. “I don’t remember you asking me to do anything,” she pointed out. “Believe it or not, I want to help you.”

Klavier bit the inside of his cheek. “Spatzi, whatever’s wrong with my head is too…” He paused searching for a word and floundering when none came. “It’s too much.”

Athena’s breath shuddered, and he imagined her eyes overflowing. His throat ached. “Klavier, you know my past. You think I’ve never had dark thoughts?” she pointed out. “I promise, whatever you tell me won’t change how I think of you.”

Klavier buried his face back in the pillow, feeling pinpricks at the back of his eyes. “You’re too good to me, Spatzi.”

“That’s not true,” she sadly said under her breath, before perking up. “Now, will you talk to me?”

Klavier supposed he didn’t have a reason not to. “Ja.”

Athena’s smile practically shined through. “Good! I can drop by after work, if that’s okay?” she offered.

Klavier hummed in agreement.

“I’ll see you then, okay? Bye!” she said happily, and despite his weariness, Klavier smiled.

“Tschüß,” he said, before hanging up.

With a long outward breath, he let his arm drop, casting the phone aside. Talking to people had never been so tiring. Even if he wanted to get up, he doubted his ability to. His bones were lead and the oxygen in his lungs ignited his veins. He allowed himself to close his eyes and just rest. He had earned that much.

Chapter Text

Klavier was eventually roused from his thoughts by a knock at the door. “Klavier?” Apollo called from the other side. “Can I come in?”

“Ja,” he replied, sitting up and shuffling so his back was pressed against the headboard.

The door creaked open to make way for Apollo. Apollo bore a tentative smile and a relieved slump to his shoulders. It occurred to Klavier that his boyfriend might have worried what he would find on the other side of the door. It was like Klavier was a small child that couldn’t be trusted behind closed doors. He bitterly wondered how long it would take for earn that privilege again.

Apollo crawled onto the bed, stopping beside Klavier. “Did you fall asleep?” he asked.

“Nein, I was just thinking.” Klavier gave him a questioning look. “How long has it been?” He glanced at the bedside clock.

There was that worried look again, the one that Apollo couldn’t seem to shake. “Almost two hours.”

Klavier frowned, deep lines etched in his face. To him it had only seemed like minutes ago that he’d hung up on Athena. Afterwards, he’d sunk into the sheets, letting his awareness spread out until it wasn’t narrowed on him. He’d told Apollo he’d been thinking, but that wasn’t quite true. He’d let his mind go blank, drifting aimlessly in the space between consciousness and sleep. For awhile, he had let go of his thoughts and emotions, so that he was just existing, letting time wash over him.

But had hours really passed? And Klavier had been oblivious to it.

He let out a long-suffering sigh and laid down on his side, curling into himself. “I didn’t mean to worry you, Schatz,” he mumbled.

Apollo remained quiet, his hands seeking out Klavier’s shoulders and smoothing over his skin. Klavier hummed contentedly, allowing his boyfriend to settle his head in his lap. Klavier shifted, happily snuggling his cheek against Apollo’s thigh. Apollo chuckled, his stomach rumbling against the back of Klavier’s neck with the sound. Apollo leaned back against the headboard, one hand tangling in Klavier’s loose hair, the other gently kneading the knotted muscles in the valleys of Klavier’s neck and shoulders. Klavier closed his eyes, his lover’s familiar hands working some feeling back into his weary body.

“Did you have a good talk with Athena?” Apollo questioned, beginning to work out the tangles in Klavier’s unbrushed hair.

Klavier nodded, curling a hand around Apollo’s knee and giving him a gentle squeeze. “Ja, she said she would stop by later, if that’s alright.”

Apollo’s hand on his neck paused. “Of course, that’s… that’s great!” he exclaimed.

His relief was evident in the way his hands softened. “Apollo…” Klavier said hesitantly. “I don’t want you to think that it’ll be that easy.”

Apollo smoothed Klavier’s bangs back from his face. “I know,” he murmured. “But I’m happy for you, and hopeful that it’ll help.”

Klavier rolled onto his back and opened his eyes. Apollo was already looking down at him with warm brown eyes. They were comforting and open, the color of Klavier’s morning coffee. And he hated himself because it didn’t change a damn thing.

“What if it doesn’t change anything?” He posed the question the plagued both of them.

Apollo’s eyes flicked away, losing their warmth. “Well…” He paused, reaching a hand over to take Klavier’s where it still rested on his knee. He idly intertwined their hands, letting the familiar warmth ground him. “That’d be okay, too,” Apollo murmured. “I mean, of course I want you to feel better and I want us to have an idea of how to do that, but if you don’t feel better today, or tomorrow, then that’s okay.” Apollo stared down at their joined hands, smoothing his thumb over Klavier’s knuckles. “I don’t expect you to be ‘cured’ by the end of the week. I… I know these things are more complicated than that.”

Klavier followed his boyfriend’s gaze, watching their threaded fingers. Apollo’s small hands were pale against his long, calloused fingers, worn from years of music and punching the prosecution’s bench. In comparison, Apollo’s skin was much softer. Klavier was supposed to be the strong one. It was a role he was used to filling, for the press and his friends, even when he didn’t feel up to the task. He didn’t have a choice, he had to act strong, he had to be strong, because if he wasn’t then he’d failed. The Gavins didn’t show weakness, and one slip-up would have his brother and the media breathing down his neck. So he wore strength like a suit of armor to hide his skin as it crumbled away.

He’d gotten so good at acting he’d forgotten there was anything inside the suit at all.

He blinked up at Apollo, feeling a wetness at the corner of his eyes. “I’m so tired, Apollo,” he sighed. The words burned in his mouth.

Apollo face was grim, his mouth twitching painfully. He raised their joined has to his lips and pressed a wet kiss to the back of Klavier’s hand. “It’s okay to be tired. It’s okay to rest,” he croaked. From the tightness in his voice, Klavier could tell he was fighting his own tears.

Klavier’s free hand wiped at his eyes. “Gott, I don’t know why I’m crying. This is so humiliating,” he grumbled. “I don’t want you to see me like this.”

Apollo brought a hand to Klavier’s cheek, thumbing at the stray tears.. “You don’t have to hide from me.”

Klavier fidgeted under Apollo’s gaze, turning his face away towards his boyfriend’s stomach. “I feel so helpless,” he spat. “I’m not even upset over anything, I’m just upset.”

Apollo didn’t move his hand, keeping it in place on Klavier’s cheek. “Getting help from people doesn’t make you helpless,” he insisted.

Klavier just huffed, unconvinced. He couldn’t help but think this was another case of Apollo picking at semantics until it proved useful. Making holes appear out of nothing was one of Apollo’s specialties after all.

Apollo sighed. “Have I told you I’m proud of you?”

Klavier snorted into his lap. “A few times.”

“Well I am,” Apollo said firmly. “I know this is hard, and you’re already doing so much, and I just want you to know how proud I am of you.”

Klavier felt his cheeks flush. He leaned into Apollo’s hand still on his cheek, tenderly kissing his lover’s wrist. “I couldn’t do it without you,” he murmured.

Now Apollo’s own face flushed, and he carded a hand through Klavier’s hair. “That’s not true. You’re stronger than you think.”

Klavier’s mouth formed a thin line, but he chose not to reply. Instead he sank heavily back into Apollo’s lap. “Stay with me?”

Apollo watched him, eyes swelling with a mixture of fondness and melancholy. “Of course,” he replied, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to Klavier’s temple.

Chapter Text

They laid together for awhile, a mess of tangled limbs as their soft exhales spoke in the air between them. For a moment, it was enough. Apollo listened to Klavier, one hand resting against the blond’s chest, rising and falling with each breath. Apollo let himself enjoy the fact that Klavier was still here, that he was alive. Klavier just allowed himself to rest, thankful that he didn’t have to do it alone.

The quiet stillness was interrupted by a series of loud knocks at the door.

Klavier jolted up, shocked at the sudden noise. Apollo shook his head, placing a gentle hand on his boyfriend’s shoulder. “That’s probably Athena,” he said by way of explanation.

Klavier nodded blearily, shimmying to the end of the bed. Apollo glanced over him as he stood, eyeing his half-lidded eyes and disheveled hair. His chest swelled as he looked down at Klavier with soft eyes.

“You’re a mess,” he teased, smoothing over Klavier’s wild hair. The ends were tangled and his bangs were sticking up. “I’ll get the door. Go brush your hair,” he instructed.

Klavier just nodded, eyes following Apollo as he strode to the from the bedroom. The pounding on the front door continued. Klavier clambered to his feet, his spine popping multiple times in the process. He groaned, stretching his arms up until another “pop!” loosened his shoulders. He trudged across the hall to the bathroom as Apollo had instructed.

His reflection earned him a displeased grimace. The press would have had a field day had he gone out like this. He set to combing his hair, as Athena’s singsong voice chattered in the background. Klavier worked through the tangles, before pinning his hair up in a messy bun. He was too weary to even attempt his normal look. The person in the mirror looked even more defeated now. Klavier scowled, turning his eyes away and walking out to meet his friends.

Athena spotted him immediately, her whole body bursting with joy. “Klavier!” she called, waving him over as if he hadn’t seen her.

Klavier stuttered. It was his first time seeing anyone other than Apollo after what had happened. As he met her eyes, he realized that she knew. What was she thinking? As soon as Klavier opened his mouth she’d know everything that was going through his mind. It was an unequal playing field, and not for the first time, Klavier wished he had Apollo’s powers of perception. It was unfair that she could know his thoughts so intimately, yet he hadn’t the slightest clue what she thought of him.

He tried to hide his anxieties with a smile. “Spatzi!” he said, spreading his arms welcomingly. “It’s so good to see you!”

Athena gladly took the invitation, bounding over to wrap Klavier in a tight squeeze. “Not as good as it is to see you,” she insisted, pulling away to blind him with a wide grin.

Klavier hugged her, returning her smile with a more subdued one. Apollo watched fondly from afar, arms crossed over his chest. Klavier and Athena had bonded immediately in the aftermath of Athena’s first case. Their shared studies in Europe led them to spend many coffee dates reminiscing over their college days. Apollo supposed that Klavier saw a lot of himself in Athena, since he had once been a new lawyer much younger than his coworkers. It didn’t hurt that they could slip into German with ease and gossip about their coworkers in front of their faces.

When they broke apart, Apollo stepped forward to put a hand on his boyfriend’s waist. “If you two are alright, I’m going to step out to run some errands.”

Klavier nodded, giving Apollo an assuring look. “Ja, have fun.”

Apollo rolled his eyes and stood on his tip-toes to give Klavier a quick kiss. Athena watched him as he grabbed his keys and walked out the door.

“Bye, Apollo!” she called with a short wave.

“Have fun, kids!” he replied through the closed door.

Athena and Klavier huffed in amusement, before Athena turned on Klavier. “Do you want to sit down?” she began, gesturing to Apollo’s modest living room.

Klavier sighed uneasily. “Ja.”

He followed her, taking a seat at the end of the couch as Athena took Apollo’s tattered armchair. She curled into it, tucking her feet underneath her neatly. She eyed him, waiting for Klavier to settle in. He fidgeted under her gaze, feeling uncharacteristically vulnerable without his flashy chains and makeup covering the imperfections on his face.

It wasn’t that his friends had never seen him dressed down, but there was a difference between his casual Sunday wear and how he looked now. Now, he was weary, with hollow cheeks and sunken eyes. He hadn’t showered since before he ended up in the hospital, and he was wearing the same clothes he’d worn to bed.

Athena clasped her hands over her knee when she deemed Klavier ready. “So, just to give you an idea of how this is going to work, I’m by no means a professional,” she began. “But we can talk, and it’ll give me an idea if we might need someone with more experience. Sound good?”

Klavier wasn’t keen on the idea of calling in a professional to fix him, but he nodded anyways.

Athena clapped her hands together. “Good! Now, anything you tell me in this context is confidential. The only thing I’d be obligated to talk to someone about is if you told me you were going to hurt yourself again.”

Klavier bristled at the reminder of what had brought Athena here in the first place. Of course Athena picked up on it.

She waved her hands in front of her. “But, uh, don’t let that stop you, okay?” she said pleadingly. “And there’s a big difference between telling me you’re thinking about it than telling me you’re going to do it. Does that make sense?” she asked nervously.

Klavier didn’t meet her eyes when he replied. “Ja.”

In his peripheral vision he could see her frown. “I know this is probably pretty uncomfortable for you, and that’s natural,” she soothed. “But I want you to know I won’t judge anything you say.”

Klavier timidly made eye contact. “Danke, Spatzi.”

Athena smiled back. “I’m not going to use Widget because I don’t want you to feel like you’re being interrogated. Don’t be afraid to speak up if I do something you don’t like!” She sat up straighter, trying to emit a calm aura. “Can you tell me more about what happened?”

Klavier nodded, looking away from Athena as he began to recount his experience. “It was on Tuesday night. I got very drunk,” he began.

“Is it normal for you to drink during the week?”

Klavier looked down in shame. “Not usually, but ever since my brother died…” He trailed off.

It was disingenuous to say Kristoph “died.” He was executed. But Klavier couldn’t bring himself to say it.

Athena nodded. “That’s understandable, grief can make us do strange things,” she assured calmly.

Klavier dared to meet her eyes again. Just like she’d promised, he found no judgment there.

“Ja, but it wasn’t the first time. Apollo wasn’t pleased, and I’ve always been an unpleasant drunk. We got into a fight, and he stormed off. And then…” He trailed off, gesturing uselessly by way of explanation.

Athena seemed to understand his meaning. “What was going through your head right before you did it?”

Klavier swallowed, his tongue feeling heavy. “I… thought of everything that’s happened in the past two years. My brother, and the band. It was just, I’d only just accepted that Kristoph was a murderer and now he’s… gone. And when he first went to prison my friend, Daryan, was the one who comforted me but he’s gone now, too.”

Athena listened to him with patient eyes. “Who’s Daryan?” she asked.

Klavier ran a hand through his hair. It was strange to talk to someone that hadn’t been present during the Misham trial and everything that preceded it. Klavier had talked to Apollo about Kristoph and Daryan, but Apollo had been there, and he had seen those trials to their brutal conclusions. He had witnessed firsthand when Kristoph revealed himself to be a wolf among sheep. It was strangely relieving to talk to Athena. He could talk freely without worrying himself over drudging up old memories.

“Daryan was my friend and bandmate, a former detective. He’s in prison for murder now,” Klavier explained.

“Oh, I’ve heard about that. I didn’t know his name,” Athena said. “Apollo worked on that case, didn’t he?”

Klavier nodded. “Ja, and Kristoph’s.”

Athena watched him, tilting her head slightly. Klavier could only imagine what she was hearing in his voice. “Does that make it harder for you?” she asked.

Klavier let out a heavy sigh, and nodded. “I’m glad that the right person went away and justice was done. But at the same time, Daryan was my friend, and Kristoph my brother. And they were both taken from me within months of each other, it… it makes things complicated.”

“It’s natural to have mixed feelings when the people we love turn out to be different than we thought,” she assured him. “Can you tell me about your brother?”

His shoulders stiffened. It was the first time someone other than Apollo had asked him to talk about Kristoph. Usually people would give him shifty eyes and dance around the subject because it was taboo.

Klavier nodded slowly. “He was an ass in the end. A murderer and a monster, the worst kind of person. He used me, and he used Apollo, and then cast us aside when he was done. We barely talked in the years before he was imprisoned, Apollo didn’t even know who I was when we first met!” Klavier spat, voice full of ire.

It was the normal spiel he gave people when they asked him about Kristoph. They expected him to have nothing but contempt for the man. Frankly, Klavier expected that of himself. His brother had murdered and ruined Wright’s life, all in the name of revenge. And still…

Klavier stared at his hands as he continued. “But he was still my brother. And even now I can’t forget that. He took care of me, and made sure I went to law school.”

“He raised you?” Athena asked.

Klavier nodded. “Ja, after our parents died.”

Athena gave him a somber look. “So he was the only family you had?”

Klavier nodded again, feeling pinpricks at the back of his eyes. He heard Athena sigh softly, and he had a feeling she wanted to reach over and touch him. But she stayed back, giving him space.

“I feel so guilty for still caring, for mourning him after all he’s done,” he admitted, glancing at Athena. “And there must have been something I could have done, for him or Daryan.”

In her eyes there was only a deep empathy. “What do you think you could have done?” she asked him.

Klavier’s thoughts paused, and he took the time to wipe at his eyes. That wasn’t ever something he’d considered. Instead he’d been so caught up in the idea that there must have been something he could have done, that he’d never stopped to consider what that something might be. He took a moment, crossing his arms.

“If I had been more careful when Kristoph told me Wright would present forged evidence…” he began.

“Klavier.” Athena’s tone was gently chastising, as if Klavier should know better. “You did as much investigation as you could. Your brother abused your trust and the trust of the courts. That’s not your fault.”

Klavier knew, logically, that that was true. But somehow it didn’t make the pestering voice in the back of his head go away. “If I had checked my guitar before leaving Borginia—”

“Klavier,” Athena repeated. “Those were his choices. You’re not responsible for that.”

He sighed, sinking deeper into Apollo’s worn cushions. “Ja. You’re right, and I know that, but they’re still gone and I can’t help but think that if I’d done something different they wouldn’t be.” He tangled a hand in his hair, pulling at his scalp. “Ever since Kristoph went to prison everything’s fallen apart. My friends and my band are gone, and my law career is a sham. Everything I spent my life working for is just gone.”

Athena gave him a questioning look. “What’s wrong with your career?” she asked.

Klavier scoffed. “One of the biggest cases I ever worked on turned out to be my brother’s puppet show, if Apollo hadn’t shown up when he did I would have sent three innocent children to jail, and I haven’t had a good case since my brother’s trial.” He slumped back in his chair, tired from the sudden outburst.

Athena was still looking at him with confusion. “Klavier, you became a lawyer at seventeen, that’s amazing! You have to be so incredibly smart and dedicated to pull that off, and I would know. Without your help, Apollo wouldn’t have been able to save his clients. And you’re completely forgetting that you helped end the Dark Age of the Law.”

“And you’re forgetting that I helped started it,” Klavier shot back.

Athena sighed, deflating. “That wasn’t you, Klavier.”

Klavier watched her with a lost expression. He wondered what he would hear if he had Athena’s ability. Did she believe what she was saying, or was it purely for his benefit? She seemed earnest, watching him with imploring eyes, begging him to see what she was seeing. The way she talked about him certainly did sound better.

“Ja,” he sighed. “I know, I know you’re right. But I’m supposed to be perfect, and when I’m not it feels like failure.”

“Well, regardless of what most people think, Klavier Gavin is human,” Athena teased. “And humans aren’t perfect.”

Klavier rolled his eyes, nodding along. “Ja, ja, Spatzi. I’m a perfectionist, what can I say?”

Athena laughed with him. “What can you do when that stress is getting to you?”

Klavier pursed his lips. “I play music, when I can , other times I focus on working because it distracts me.”

“Would you be opposed to making a list?” Athena asked tentatively.

Klavier furrowed his brow. “A list?”

“Yeah, a list of like, ten or more things you can do when you get overwhelmed that’ll help distract you. Music is a good one, some people like to take a bubble bath, or go for a walk,” she explained.

Klavier gave her a bemused look. “Why?” he asked.

“When we get stressed out, our brains stop working correctly. We can’t think rationally because we’re convinced that the world is ending, and that can make us do some not so great things. By making a list, you’ll have a cheat sheet for things to do that’ll hopefully lessen that feeling so you don’t get to that point,” she explained.

Klavier quirked one eyebrow. “I’m glad those psychology courses taught you something,” he teased.

Widget flashed a bright red. “Watch it, Jerkface!”

Athena clapped a hand over him. “Ignore him. So how about that list?”

Klavier laughed. “That sounds fine.”

“Great!” Athena said, springing from her seat. “Where’s something to write on?” she called, already heading into the kitchen.

Klavier followed her with his eyes, still wearing an expression of amused confusion. “There should be some pens and sticky notes in one of the drawers.”

“Found it!” Athena cried happily a moment later, holding a pad of sticky notes and pen above her head.

She quickly trotted back to her chair, hopping into it with her pen at the ready. “So, number one, music. And number two, lawyering.” She looked to Klavier expectantly.

“Ach, uh. I can talk to Herr Forehead?” he suggested.

Athena seemed to like that answer, writing it down. “Talk to Apollo.”

Klavier tried to think of the things he usually did when he was stressed. “I could go for a drink.”

Athena’s pen stopped and she looked at him sharply. “Oh, no, no!”

Klavier’s eyebrows shot up. “Nein?”

“Nein!” she parroted back. “It’s best to avoid drugs and alcohol when you’re stressed. It’s okay to have a drink every once and a while, but given recent events…”

Klavier felt a shamed flush spread over his cheeks. “Ah.”

Athena gave him a sympathetic smile. “Is that going to be hard?”

Klavier shook his head. “Nein. So I should swear off alcohol completely?”

“For the time being I think that’d be best.”

“Then I could… go for a ride on my hog,” he said. It had been awhile since he’d gone for a ride, and he missed the exhilarating feel of driving at night when the roads were empty and it was just him and the stars.

Athena nodded happily.

“I could visit the beach,” he continued thoughtfully. He tried to think of more, but came up blank.

Athena noticed, and ripped the sticky note from the pad with a flourish. “That’s a great start, Klavier!” she claimed cheerfully, holding out the sticky for him to take. “Now, you can add on to it when you get an idea, and then when you’re stressed out you can look at it and pick something to do.”

Klavier took it from her, reading over it.

1.     Music
2.     Lawyering
3.     Talk to forehead
4.     Ride hogs
5.     Beach
6.      

It got the point across, he supposed.

It was then that the two heard hushed curses outside the apartment, as someone struggled to get a key in the lock. With some fumbling, the door eventually swung open, revealing Apollo with one arm laden with shopping bags and the other…

“Ack! Heel!” he shouted at the excited orange blur racing into the apartment.

Well, he had been holding a leash.

“Vongole!” Klavier called happily as the dog bounded up to him.

She jumped up on his lap, licking at his face while her tail threatened to knock over Apollo’s flimsy coffee table. Klavier scrunched up his nose at her kisses, but bore through it. The dog had a right to be excited after all.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere,” he promised, earning a happy bark.

Apollo hastily closed the door. “Shush! My landlord will throw a fit if he knows I have a dog here,” he said in a hushed voice.

“Ruhig,” Klavier commanded, and Vongole immediately closed her mouth, giving him sad eyes. “Braver hund.”

Vongole hopped down from Klavier’s lap, going to sniff Athena. Athena was happy to give her a scratch behind the ear. Soon Vongole was on her back, letting Athena rub her belly. A familiar sense of guilt washed over Klavier as he watched the dog. (He kept having to remind himself that now she was his dog). With recent events, he’d completely forgotten about Vongole. He hadn’t even thought of what would happen to her if he died.

Apollo set to work putting away the groceries. “Your neighbor’s been taking care of her the past couple days. I figured she’d want to see you,” he explained.

“Danke, Apollo,” Klavier said, watching as Vongole’s back leg started kicking at the air.

Athena eventually stood, which Vongole was not pleased with. “I think it’s about time I head home. Will you guys be alright?” she asked.

Apollo glanced at her. “Yeah, unless you wanna stay for dinner,” he offered.

Athena hummed contemplatively. “What are you making?”

“Depends, what do you want Klavier?” he asked.

Klavier rubbed his stomach. He was surprised to find that he was hungry. Thought it wasn’t altogether surprising, considering he hadn’t eaten much, but for the first time that day he felt well enough to stomach it. Now that left the question of what he actually wanted to eat.

“Do we have any shrimp?” he called.

Athena practically swooned. “Ooh, do you?”

Klavier could hear him rolling his eyes from across the room. “Yeah, but if you’re staying you’re helping me cook.”

Athena gave him a thumbs up. “No problem, Polly!”

With that the two set to work, while Klavier stayed with Vongole, letting her curl up on the couch beside him. Eventually Apollo left Athena at the stove to hover beside Klavier.

“Did you guys have a good talk?” he asked, worry still shining in his eyes.

Klavier gave him a smile. “Ja, she gave me homework.”

Apollo laughed shortly. “As long as it’s not math, you should be fine,” he teased. His smile faded as his face turned more serious. “So you feel better?” he asked hopefully.

Klavier glanced down at Vongole’s head in his lap, her breath warm against his thigh. “Not good. But ja, better.”

Apollo’s smile was like the sun. “That’s fantastic, that’s wonderful.”

Klavier flinched. “Apollo, please don’t get your hopes up…” he warned.

Apollo gently tilted Klavier’s chin up to look at him. He was still smiling like Klavier had given him the world. He pressed a gentle kiss to Klavier’s forehead.

“I’m not,” he murmured against his skin, beginning to trail kisses down Klavier’s face. “I’m happy for you.” He cupped Klavier’s face in his hands as he pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “You don’t have to be good, babe. Better is enough.”

Klavier wound a hand around the back of Apollo’s neck, closing his eyes as he reveled in the warmth. Apollo affectionately rubbed their noses together. Klavier hoped, prayed that better would be enough.

The moment was broken by a cry from the kitchen. “Um, Apollo?” Athena shouted fearfully.

A light chuckle rumbled in Klavier’s chest. “You should probably make sure she doesn’t ruin your kitchen, Schatzi,” he laughed.

Apollo sighed, his breath warm on Klavier’s cheek. He pulled out of Klavier’s embrace, shooting Athena a murderous look.

“I leave you alone for one minute, Athena!” he shouted. “If you set something on fire, you’re using your own jacket to put it out,” he grumbled, stalking over to Athena’s rescue.

While his friends bickered in the kitchen, Klavier closed his eyes. He continued to stroke Vongole’s fur while Apollo’s words ran through his head. He repeated them, hoping that if he said it enough times, they would feel true. He tried to convince himself that better was enough, that he was enough.

Chapter Text

The sun rose on yet another morning. It was another morning that Klavier didn’t have a right to witness. Overnight his mood had regressed, but he still felt better than he had the previous morning. It was progress, however slight. Once again, Apollo was up before him. Klavier felt well enough to pull himself out of bed and across to the bathroom.

He hadn’t showered in days, and grime from the past few days clung on his skin. His hair was greasy, and fell flat on his shoulders. The feeling of sweat and dirt sheathing him made his skin crawl. Klavier eyed the shower, stretching his arms and trying to determine if he had enough energy to take a shower. It was a chore to move, but his joints didn’t ache. He decided it would be worth it to feel clean again.

Klavier turned on the water, shedding his clothes as steam quickly began to fill up the bathroom. He stepped up into the tub and switched on the showerhead. With a heavy sigh, he tilted his head back and let the water fall like rain. Unfortunately, Apollo’s shower wasn’t the most reliable, and the pressure kept fluctuating, not to mention that the shower itself was barely high enough for Klavier. Still, it did the job. As the water cascaded over him, he imagined it was washing away his sins.

If only it were that easy.

He squeezed some soap onto his hand and began lathering it over his limbs, massaging the soap into aching flesh. He got reacquainted with his body, feeling and remembering the callouses on his hands, the scars on his torso, and the rough pads of his feet. It was all just as he remembered, which was strange considering this vessel of meat and flesh had nearly given up on him. His body was one strange lie, it seemed. He had thought something would have changed, something to reflect the changes that were taking place within himself. (His mind briefly flashed to the knives in the kitchen, and he thought he might understand why someone might choose that over pills).

Klavier’s hands paused on his stomach. Maybe his near death did leave scars, just not external ones. Surely self-poisoning wreaked havoc on his insides. What kind of damage might be hidden beneath the surface? He couldn’t imagine that his body could walk away from death unscathed. No matter how much Klavier covered his flaws on the outside, it wouldn’t change the damage inside him.

It was strangely fitting.

He washed his hair, not bothering with his usual routine. His goal today was cleanliness, not appearances. Afterwards, he turned off the faucet and grabbed a towel from beneath the sink. He dried his body, and then his hair, before wrapping the towel around his waist and venturing back into Apollo’s bedroom. He threw on some clothes and looked himself over in the mirror. He scowled before turning away, venturing out to meet Apollo.

Once again, Apollo was cooking breakfast. Klavier snuck up behind him, making his presence known when he slipped his arms around Apollo’s waist. Klavier pressed a kiss to his boyfriend’s hair, earning a smile from Apollo. Apollo squeezed Klavier’s hands where they rested on his stomach.

“Guten Morgen,” Klavier murmured.

“Good morning,” Apollo replied. Then he made a disgusted face. “Your hair is dripping on me,” he grumbled.

Klavier laughed, pressing another kiss to Apollo’s hair and ignoring the complaint. Apollo hummed, content, and continued cooking.

“I heard you in the shower so I got breakfast started. Eggs okay?” he asked.

Klavier hummed in agreement. Apollo continued, “If you can stomach it I can make toast or bacon,” he suggested.

Klavier bit his lip. He wasn’t sure if he could. While the smell of food didn’t make his skin crawl, he didn’t feel hungry either. He supposed he could try.

“I could go for some toast?” he offered, the apprehensiveness clear in his voice.

Apollo understood, and he nuzzled back against Klavier’s chest. Klavier ended up finishing his toast and half his eggs, and Apollo beamed at him like he’d brought him the moon. It was such a simple act, eating. And still, Klavier had had to fight for it. Was everything else going to be this hard?

“I thought we could get out today,” Apollo called from the sink, washing the dishes. “I figured we could take Vongole for a walk, maybe drop by the Agency. If you’re feeling up to it.”

Klavier glanced down at Vongole where she laid at his feet. “Ja, I think I could do that,” he replied.

And that was exactly what they did. When Klavier’s hair had dried some, he gelled it into its usual coil and Apollo clipped Vongole’s leash on. The dog started running in excited circles around Apollo, who watched her helplessly while Klavier looked on in amusement. Klavier took the leash while Apollo led the way out, checking around the corner for his landlord while they snuck Vongole outside.

It was the first time Klavier had been outside since coming home. It was a beautiful day, and he blinked in the sunlight. Apollo watched him with fearful eyes. Feeling fine in the comfort of your own home was a completely different beast than feeling fine outside. Out here, there were a plethora of sights, sounds, and smells. There were so many obstacles that Klavier might trip over, and Apollo worried he might not have the strength to pull himself up.

“How do you feel?” Apollo asked nervously.

Klavier’s expression was unreadable as he stared up at the vast, blue sky. “Human,” he finally replied. Klavier felt Apollo’s eyes on him and glanced over. He offered Apollo a soft smile and held out his hand. “Shall we?”

Apollo happily intertwined their hands, tucking himself against Klavier’s side. Together they took the first step, and Vongole followed happily alongside. She moved slowly, taking time to sniff every post and glare threateningly at other dogs. Klavier was happy to go at her pace, moving slowly as he reacquainted himself with the outside world.

To get to the Agency, they had to cross a bridge. Halfway across, Vongole stopped to sniff the guard rail. Klavier peered down over the edge at the shallow inlet below. It was about thirty feet down. His work came back to haunt him as all the evidence he’d used over the years flooded his brain. He’d heard of people surviving thirty feet, but he also knew from cases he’d worked on that people had died from much less. It’s not the fall, but how you land.

Apollo squeezed his hand tightly. Klavier glanced to his side, seeing Apollo’s brow furrowed with concern.

“It’s a gorgeous day,” Klavier said as an explanation.

Apollo’s expression didn’t change, and Klavier could practically see the thoughts in his eyes. I saw you looking down, he seemed to say. Instead, Apollo chose not to call him on it, and wound an arm around Klavier’s waist.

“All the more gorgeous with you in it,” he murmured against Klavier’s side.

Klavier looked down at Apollo, then gently nuzzled the top of his head. He sighed, wishing that he could ease his lover’s worries. Vongole pulled on her leash, and the three continued on. It was only a few minutes before they stood in front of the Wright Anything Agency. Klavier stared up at the sign, mouth thin and severe like he was facing down his own death. Vongole whimpered, sensing Klavier’s distress.

Apollo gave Klavier’s hand a squeeze. “We don’t have to go in.”

Klavier blinked, shaken from his thoughts. “Nein, I want to. I’m just…” He trailed off.

“Nervous?” Apollo guessed.

It wasn’t powerful enough to describe the sickening sensation in Klavier’s gut, but he nodded anyways.

Apollo gently tugged at his hand. “They’ll be happy to see you,” he insisted.

Klavier tugged back playfully. He didn’t think Phoenix would ever be happy to see him, but he kept that thought to himself. He let Apollo lead him inside. The bell above the door sounded, and in seconds Trucy hopped out to greet them.

She shrieked happily when she saw Apollo. “Polly!” she shouted, tackling him with a hug, before jumping off to give one to Klavier.

Apollo chuckled. “Hey, Trucy.”

She let go of Klavier, giving Apollo a sunny smile. “Are you here to work today? It’s been so boring without you here,” she whined.

Apollo rolled his eyes. “Sorry, Trucy, I’m just here for a little while. Where’s Mr. Wright?”

Apollo glanced around the office in search of his boss. Or his coworker for that matter. There was no sight of them, but given the constant state of disarray, it wouldn’t be impossible for them to be hiding under a pile of magic props.

Trucy bounced on her feet. “I made them disappear!” she said gleefully.

Klavier laughed while Apollo shot her a warning look. “Trucy.”

She huffed. “Okay, fine, I haven’t quite gotten to people yet, but I did make his and Athena’s badges disappear and they might be looking for them.”

Klavier smirked as he said, “Keep up the good work, Trucy. Makes my job much easier.”

Apollo shot him a glare. “Don’t encourage her!” he scolded.

Trucy stuck out her tongue. “You just don’t appreciate the performing arts, Polly.”

“What I don’t appreciate is not being able to do my job,” he shot back.

Trucy tipped her hat. “Oh, don’t worry about that. Daddy doesn’t have to appear in court for a few days. He should find his badge by then.” Trucy paused before adding in a hushed tone, “Hopefully.”

“That’s not the point, Trucy!” Apollo insisted. “Your attorney’s badge is part of you! It’d be like if I took your cape away.”

Trucy made a horrified gasp. “Don’t take my cape!”

“Exactly!”

Trucy crossed her arms thoughtfully. “Maybe I should make your badge disappear.”

Apollo stuck out his tongue. “Too bad I left it at home.”

Trucy gained a wicked gleam in her eyes. “Oh, Polly, do you really think that’ll stop me?”

Klavier watched as Apollo’s face paled, before he shook it off. The bell over the door rang again, and the three turned around to watch Athena and Phoenix walk in, looking worse for wear.

“I don’t know how she managed to hide my badge at the bottom of a bowl of noodles,” Phoenix muttered.

“You got lucky, Boss!” Athena said, wringing water from her skirt. She was the first to notice their guests. “Polly, Schneckerl!”

She stepped forward as if to give Apollo a hug, but he stepped back. “Please don’t get me wet.”

Athena pouted as Phoenix stepped forward. “It’s good to see you two,” he greeted.

Klavier didn’t miss the way Phoenix’s eyes lingered on him. Klavier pointedly looked away, focusing his eyes on Apollo. He had enough to worry about without trying to figure out what was going through Wright’s head.

“We took Vongole on a walk and decided to stop by,” Apollo explained.

Vongole herself was busy licking Trucy’s face while she giggled. Phoenix watched her with warm eyes for a moment before turning to Klavier.

“Did you want to talk to her?” he asked quietly.

Klavier frowned, watching as Trucy’s hands ruffled Vongole’s fur. No, he didn’t want to talk to her. He didn’t want to talk to anyone, especially about this. But as much as they all wanted to protect her, Trucy wasn’t a child. She was brilliant, and damningly perceptive. She would find out one way or another. Wouldn’t it be better coming from him?

Fear flashed over Klavier’s face. “What if I do something wrong?” he worried.

Phoenix gave him a dubious look. “She’s been living with me for eight years. Believe me, she’ll be fine.”

Klavier eyed him. “Point taken.” He still couldn’t shake the thought that he’d screw up somehow.

Phoenix made to place a hand on Klavier’s shoulder, but thought better of it at the last second. “Whatever you do wrong, I’ll be there to clean up after you,” he assured. “But I think you’ll be fine.”

Klavier glanced to Apollo at his side, who gave him a reassuring nod. Klavier gulped. “Alright.”

Phoenix gave him one last smile before turning to Athena. “Athena, can you come help us for a sec?”

Athena stood up from where she was petting Vongole. She glanced at Klavier before getting the idea and nodded. Apollo took Vongole’s leash and the three defense attorneys left the room, leaving Klavier and Trucy alone.

Klavier’s mouth had gone dry. “Trucy,” he croaked. “Can I talk to you?”

Sunny demeanor gone, Trucy watched him with hands on her hips. “Is this about why everyone’s been acting funny?” she asked.

Klavier let out a breath. Of course she’d noticed. He sank down onto one of the couches. “Ja.”

Trucy followed his lead, taking a seat on the opposite couch. She continued looking at him with curious eyes, waiting for him to continue. Klavier wrung his hands. God, where did he even start?

“Have you ever felt sad, Trucy?” he asked.

Trucy gave him a strange look as she nodded. “Yes…” she replied apprehensively.

Klavier cursed himself. This was the girl who’d lost her father (because of him). Of course she’d felt sad. He continued past his blunder. “Well, lately I’ve been feeling very sad, and a few nights ago, I did something very foolish because of it.”

Trucy blinked at him, brow furrowed. He could see a sense of understanding in her eyes, but she didn’t want to believe it. She stayed silent, and Klavier balled his hands into fists on his knees.

“I… I tried to ensure that I wouldn’t wake up.” Despite having said it so many times, his voice still faltered.

He met Trucy’s eyes. She held one hand to her mouth, blinking back tears as she stared at him with confusion. “I, I don’t understand?” she said. “Why-why would you be sad?”

Klavier’s eyes dropped to his hands. “I’m still trying to figure that out,” he admitted. “Sometimes people just feel bad and there’s no way to explain it.”

“I know that!” she said indignantly. “But you’re, you’re you!”

He understood what she meant. He was Klavier Gavin, and everyone wanted to be him. His life was perfect and he wanted for nothing. Materialistically, maybe. But otherwise, that wasn’t quite true.

“Fame and money aren’t everything, Trucy. It’s been a hard couple of years for me,” he explained.

Tears were streaming down her cheeks now as she looked at him with new eyes. “Why didn’t you talk to us?” she whimpered.

“I should have. And if you ever feel like I did, you should,” he insisted. “But I felt alone, and I convinced myself that no one would listen.”

“But of course we’d listen! You’re family!”

Klavier’s words cut short and he stared at Trucy with a furrowed brow. “I… I’m what?” he asked, convinced he hadn’t heard correctly.

Trucy pouted, though the effect was lessened by her teary eyes. “You’re my big brother! Just like Apollo,” she insisted. “You come to my magic shows and you were at our house for Christmas. Of course you’re one of us!”

Klavier blinked at her, stunned. He’d always assumed his presence was that of Apollo’s boyfriend, not as a member of the Wright clan. He of all people didn’t have a claim to that title after everything he’d done.

“Trucy, I…” Klavier spluttered, searching for the words to explain that he didn’t belong. “I ruined your father’s life.” It didn’t even matter which father he meant, he’d ruined both of them.

Trucy gave him a cold glare. “Are you still hung up on that?” she asked. “Everyone knows that wasn’t your fault! And of course I miss my first Daddy,” she said quietly, her eyes breaking away from Klavier for the first time. “But if it hadn’t been for you Daddy never would have adopted me!”

Klavier just stared at her, in complete and utter awe of this brilliant child. She was too good, too kind, and sweet, with a heart so big it couldn’t possibly fit in her chest. Trucy stared at him with stars in her eyes, like he deserved that kind of adoration, and it was too much. He could never be worthy of this wonderful girl, and her amazing capacity to forgive.

Trucy hopped up from her seat and sat down next to Klavier. He watched her in stunned silence as she pulled him into a tight hug. “I don’t want you to be sad.”

Klavier began rubbing her back as she sniffled into his chest. “Gott, I’m supposed to be teaching you and here you are comforting me,” he chuckled lightly.

Trucy pulled back to look him in the eye. “Is it working? Do you feel better?” she asked.

Klavier didn’t want to lie, as much as he’d like to. “I feel better, but it’ll take time before I’m back to normal,” he explained.

Trucy just pouted before ducking her head back into his chest. “Then I’ll just stay like this ‘til then.”

His chest shook with laughter. “That’s not quite realistic.”

“Don’t care.”

Klavier just smiled down at her fondly. He continued to rub circles into her back, while she hid her sniffles in his chest. Eventually they ceased, and she pulled back, rubbing at her red rimmed eyes.

“Will you talk to us if… if it gets bad? You can talk to me, or Daddy, or Uncle Miles,” she offered.

Klavier gave her a small smile. “Ja. I learned my lesson. It’s not an experience I’m looking to relive anytime soon,” he assured her.

Trucy nodded, seemingly satisfied with that answer. “Good.” She hopped up out of Klavier’s arms. “Now where’s Vongole?”

At that they heard pawing from the other side of the door the others had disappeared through. Sheepishly, Apollo cracked the door open, letting Vongole rush in, ready to have her belly rubbed. The three attorneys followed, and Klavier raised an eyebrow.

“Did you enjoy the show?” he asked wryly, doing his best to hide his smile.

Athena immediately pointed at Phoenix. “His idea!”

Phoenix didn’t even have the decency to look offended, too busy wrapping Trucy in a big hug. He kissed the top of her head affectionately. “You are much too good for us, baby girl.”

Trucy giggled. “Daddy, you’re squeezing too hard!”

Phoenix let go of her, watching her with clear fondness as she knelt to scratch behind Vongole’s ears. Apollo took a seat beside Klavier, resting his head on the other’s shoulder. Klavier watched Phoenix, and he could practically see his heart swelling with pride. It occurred to him that even though they weren’t blood relatives, Trucy and Phoenix had a lot in common.

Chapter Text

The walk back home was more pleasant. The sun sat high in the sky, warming Klavier’s upturned face as short, dark shadows fell behind him. When they crossed the bridge in the opposite direction, Klavier chanced a quick look out over the open sea, before rooting himself firmly to the ground beneath his feet. He gave Apollo’s hand a bruising squeeze and walked quicker.

Their hands never separated until they reached their door. Klavier quickly unclipped Vongole’s leash, letting her have free reign. She immediately took the opportunity to hop up onto Apollo’s couch. Apollo dropped Klavier’s hand to disappear into their bedroom.

“What are you doing?” Klavier asked with a slight smirk.

Apollo left the door cracked open. “Just checking on something,” he said vaguely.

Klavier stepped into the bathroom smoothing down his windswept hair. “Checking to see if your attorney’s badge is missing?” he teased.

Apollo grumbled under his breath. Klavier took that to mean he was right, and his laughter deepened. He heard Apollo rummaging through his drawers across the hall. Klavier eyed his reflection with a frown while Apollo searched. Not for the first time, he saw Kristoph staring back at him. Both Gavin brothers favored their mother, they had the same prominent brow, the same straight nose. Those were all things that Klavier couldn’t change.

That didn’t explain the hair. Klavier had always idolized his brother. It was part of the reason he’d set his sights on law school. It had been after meeting Kristoph in the LA court circuit that Klavier had adopted the same style.

At first it had been an attempt to look more professional so that his older coworkers might take him more seriously. He hoped that bearing a striking resemblance to the well known Kristoph Gavin might get him some respect. Over time, it had become part of his image, and something of a sentimental homage to his brother. When he was touring across the ocean, sometimes it was nice to look in the mirror and see a familiar face.

But that was before.

Klavier bent over the sink, nails scratching at the edge as he stared in the mirror. He glowered at the reflection, but instead of his own fiery eyes staring back, all he could see were his brother’s icy ones. He imagined his mouth quirking upwards in his brother’s malicious smirk that still haunted his dreams. He set his elbows on the edge of the sink, clapping his hands over his ears in an attempt to block his brother out.

What would Kristoph think of him now, he wondered. He could already see his brother’s smug grin. “I always knew you were the weaker brother, but I never imagined you’d fall this far” he’d say in that carelessly nonchalant tone of his. “I suppose I’m flattered that you’re that eager to join me in the grave.”

Even in death, Klavier still allowed Kristoph to control him. After all, it had been Kristoph’s execution that sent him off the deep end. Kristoph was probably laughing in his grave. Klavier’s wrecked mental health was Kristoph’s last plan, finally coming to fruition. And whether Klavier bowed and killed himself or tried to make sense of himself and continued living, Kristoph had won his last desperate bid for control.

Klavier shook, desperately wrenching open the medicine cabinet. A row of pill bottles sat on a shelf right in front of a pair of scissors. Klavier made a swift grab and in one quick motion it was done.

It wasn’t until afterwards that Klavier came back to awareness. He stared at himself in the mirror, his eyes widening. His hand shook, and he took a deep breath, counted to five, exhaled, then took another.

“Ah, found it!” Apollo called proudly from the other room.

Klavier was quiet, still trying to collect himself. “Apollo?” he called, voice unnaturally steady.

“Yeah?”

“Can you come here for a moment?” he asked, eyes never leaving his reflection. He saw his lips move and heard his voice, but it didn’t feel like him speaking.

He heard shuffling as Apollo strode over. “Yeah, is something wr— holy shit.”

Apollo’s hands flew to his mouth. He stood numbly in the door of the bathroom and tried to piece together what he was seeing. Before him stood Klavier, scissors in one hand with wisps of golden blond hair pooled at his feet. The medicine cabinet was wide open, Apollo’s different medicine bottles toppled, some having rolled into the sink. The scariest thing was that Klavier appeared oblivious to Apollo’s presence, his eyes still transfixed on the mirror.

Apollo took one step forward, and Klavier looked to him with a start. He opened and closed his mouth, struggling to find an acceptable explanation. “I—I wasn’t thinking…”

Apollo slowly took the scissors from Klavier’s hand, setting them down on the counter. He let out a relieved breath, now that the scissors were out of Klavier’s hands, where they might hurt him. Apollo’s hands shook as he eyed the bottles in the sink and the sharp blades still under his hand. How close had he been to another repeat of Tuesday night? Klavier had been smiling and laughing only minutes ago, and as soon as Apollo turned his back...

“Have you already forgotten what happened the last time you ‘weren’t thinking?’” Apollo snapped harshly, hands balled into fists.

Klavier flinched at the cutting words, widening his eyes at Apollo. Apollo himself seemed shocked as he heard the words leaving his mouth. His anger deflated and he still shook as he ran a hand through his hair.

“Oh god, I’m sorry,” he said breathlessly. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean it, I just…” Apollo glanced around the room beginning to pick up the pill bottles from the sink and setting them back in the cabinet. His hands shook so badly that as soon as he set them down they toppled over again.

Klavier’s chest sagged with guilt. “It’s alright,” he murmured. “I know this is hard on you,” he bit out. His face burned as he refused to meet Apollo’s eyes.

Apollo abandoned the bottles and turned to face Klavier. “God, don’t say that,” he begged. “It can’t be nearly as hard for me as it is for you.” Apollo stepped forward, fisting his hands in Klavier’s shirt as he buried his face in the taller man’s chest. “I’m just worried. God, I’m so worried.”

Klavier wrapped his arms around Apollo’s shaking body, his guilt a thick stone in the back of his throat. “I’m sorry, Schatzi,” he murmured.

Apollo shook his head. “You haven’t done anything wrong,” he insisted.

Klavier didn’t agree with that, but he knew better than to argue. “You didn’t ask for this,” he croaked instead.

Apollo pulled back, staring at him with those big coffee-brown eyes. “Neither did you,” he pointed out.

Apollo knew that Klavier’s fears wouldn’t be so easily swayed. He stood up on his tip-toes to kiss Klavier’s chin. When he pulled back, settling on his feet, he ran his fingers through the rough ends of Klavier’s new short hair.

“You need someone to shape this up for you,” he said thoughtfully.

Klavier looked sideways to eye himself in the mirror. He’d been so stunned at the fact that he’d cut his hair thoughtlessly that he hadn’t even taken in his new haircut. He grimaced and buried a hand in the bushy mess. It was uneven and improperly layered, and fanned out from his face now that the weight of his long hair wasn’t keeping it in line.

Apollo chuckled lightly. “Go set out a towel on the kitchen floor and I’ll be there in a minute,” he instructed.

Klavier nodded, grabbing a towel from below the sink as Apollo knelt to gather the loose strands of Klavier’s hair still clumped on the floor. Klavier smoothed a towel out on the kitchen floor and set a chair on top. He took a seat and a few minutes later Apollo appeared with the same shears Klavier had used in the first place.

“I’ve seen photos of you in your early days, do you want your hair like that or something new?” Apollo asked.

Klavier thought for a moment. This had all started because he needed to stop seeing Kristoph in the mirror. However, his hair from before he’d grown it out reminded him too much of the Gramarye trial and everything that followed.

“Something new,” Klavier said.

Apollo nodded, giving Klavier’s hair an appraising look. “Now I’m no hairdresser, but I should be able to make it look presentable until you can get it professionally done or whatever you rockstars do,” he teased, running his fingers through Klavier’s hair.

Klavier hummed happily at the comforting motion. “Just don’t give me any horns and we’ll be good.”

Apollo tugged sharply at his hair. “It’s not a good idea to mock the person doing your hair,” he pointed out.

Klavier just laughed lightly, before settling back in the chair and letting Apollo take charge. “Don’t touch my bangs,” he murmured. “I haven’t changed them in nine years and I’m not about to start now.”

Apollo rolled his eyes. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” he drawled.

Apollo set to work, and for a while the only sound in the apartment was the hum of the AC and the snip of Apollo’s scissors as he shaped his boyfriend’s hair. Klavier let him tip his head forward and back, sitting perfectly still with closed eyes. It was relaxing to let Apollo make all the decisions for once, handing over the reins to someone he could trust so intimately. If only Apollo could make all his decisions.

Klavier was on the verge of sleep when Apollo proclaimed he was done. Klavier opened his eyes, sitting up while Apollo left to get a hand mirror. He returned and held it up for Klavier to see. Klavier stared at himself. After so long spent seeing Kristoph, it was strange to look in the mirror and see himself. Of course there was still a shadow of Kristoph in his face, the blood they shared ensured that. But without the hair, the difference was dramatic.

Apollo had cut his hair so it laid close to his head, not flaring out dramatically as it had in his younger days. Klavier immediately looked younger, but not immature as he had when he started his law career. His hair still had some length to it, tapering off at the base of his neck, enough that Klavier could pin it up in a half-pony if he wished. Klavier reached a hand up to grasp at the short ends, the back of his neck strangely cold.

Apollo shifted anxiously on his feet. “Do you like it?”

Klavier rolled his head on his shoulders, testing the weight of his new hair. His head was significantly lighter. He beamed at Apollo. “I love it,” he assured.

Apollo smiled, bending down to kiss Klavier’s forehead. “Good. Do you feel better now?”

Klavier hummed. “Lighter, definitely.”

That earned a laugh from Apollo as he ushered Klavier out of the chair and went to throw away the loose hair. The tension settled after that, and it wasn’t until later when Klavier and Apollo began preparing dinner that Klavier couldn’t contain himself any longer. Apollo stood at his side chopping vegetables as Klavier provided assistance.

Klavier’s eyes were on the knife rack  by Apollo’s stove. “Shouldn’t you put those away?” he asked darkly.

Apollo’s hands stopped, his eyes following Klavier’s. He set his knife down, giving Klavier a look over his shoulder. “Do you need me to?” he asked, eyes locking on Klavier’s.

Klavier broke eye contact to glance at the knives appraisingly again. “Nein.”

Apollo went back to chopping vegetables. “Then no.”

Klavier frowned, displeased with the amount of faith Apollo had in him. “You trust me after the stunt I pulled today?” he asked scathingly.

Apollo sighed heavily and set down the knife with a sense of finality. He turned to face his boyfriend, looking up at him with firm but caring eyes. “Yes, I do. And you know why? Today you could have easily…” Apollo swallowed, crossing his arms to keep them from shaking. “You had to reach past my pills to get those scissors, and yeah it’s fucking terrifying, but you’re not a child and I’m not about to make you a prisoner in your own home,” he rambled.

“And no, I haven’t hidden every pill or knife in my house but don’t think it’s because I don’t love you, because I do. But I don’t want you to feel like I don’t trust you or like I think you need to be watched 24/7. I want you to be comfortable and I want you to be able to come to me if… if…” Apollo choked up, pressing a closed fist to his mouth.

Klavier’s heart broke at Apollo’s distress. And it was all over him. He reached over to take his lover’s hand, smoothing over the clenched muscles and tight bones. “I appreciate it, Schatzi,” he murmured.

Apollo took a deep breath, collecting himself. “I just want you to be safe, but as much as I want to, I can’t protect you from every pill, or knife, or bridge in the world.”

Klavier couldn’t bear to meet Apollo’s eyes, and he focused on the man’s white knuckles, trying to rub life back into them. “That’s not your job, Schatzi.”

“I know,” Apollo agreed. “I need to be supportive and help you protect yourself, because this is supposed to be about you and what will help you feel better. But sometimes I remember that I have no idea what I’m doing and I wonder if I’m helping at all.”

“Oh, Schatzi,” Klavier breathed, wrapping an arm around Apollo’s waist. “I couldn’t imagine doing this without you. You’ve done more than I could ever ask.”

Apollo leaned into his boyfriend’s shoulder. “I wish I could just make it better,” he sighed, nuzzling into Klavier’s chest. “But if I can even make it a little bit easier, then I’ll keep trying.”

Apollo wound a hand around the back of Klavier’s neck, pulling him down into a tender kiss. His fingers played with the short strands of hair, even as they pulled away.

“You’ve done more than a little bit,” Klavier breathed against his cheek.

Apollo kissed his cheek. “I love you,” he whispered.

Klavier brushed their noses together. “I love you, too.”

Apollo pulled back slightly to make eye contact, keeping his hand at the back of Klavier’s neck. “Do you need me to hide the pills?”

Klavier ran his hand in circles over the small of Apollo’s back as he thought. “Nein, I’ll be alright.”

Apollo nodded in understanding. “Promise me you’ll let me know if that changes? I won’t ask questions, I just want you to be safe,” he pleaded, gently pressing a hand to Klavier’s chest.

Klavier nodded placing his hand over Apollo’s. “Ja, I promise.” He felt this was a promise he could keep.

Chapter Text

He woke up the next morning to a silent apartment. The bedroom door was cracked open, and he stepped out after throwing on clean clothes. He was headed towards the bathroom, but he caught sight of Apollo bent over his laptop at the kitchen counter, head in his hands. Vongole lay curled up at Apollo’s feet, occasionally flicking worried eyes up at him.

“Herr Forehead?” he called tentatively, heading towards him.

Apollo jumped at his voice, slamming his arms down on the counter. Vongole lept to her feet at the sudden movement, falling into an aggressive stance and growling. Even from across the room, Klavier could practically see Apollo sweating.

“Klavier,” he replied with a shaky voice. “God, I am so sorry. I did everything I could, I swear,” he rambled.

Klavier furrowed his brow in confusion. “Apollo, what are you talking about?” he asked, stepping forward.

Apollo wrung his hands glancing between Klavier and his computer screen. “I tried so hard not to let this happen, I didn’t tell the hospital what happened, I didn’t talk to anyone without your approval—”

“Apollo,” Klavier said in a commanding tone, taking a seat across from him.

Apollo deflated, sighing defeatedly as he turned his laptop around for Klavier to see. Klavier’s veins turned to ice as he read that morning’s headline.

KLAVIER GAVIN’S SUICIDE ATTEMPT?

Former frontman of  The Gavinners was reportedly rushed unconscious to the Cedars-Sinai Medical Center late Tuesday evening by his long-term partner. A source claims he showed clear signs of a drug overdose characteristic of a suicide attempt…

He has not made an appearance at the Los Angeles Prosecutor’s Office since being released…

Is it possible the legal life isn’t living up to this rockstar’s expectations?

This story is still developing.

Below the headline, there was a fuzzy picture of Klavier and Apollo walking out of the hospital. At the time, he’d been so dazed he hadn’t even considered that someone else might be watching. He stared at that picture, a mix of icy fear and seething rage. Everyone could see this, everyone likely had seen it. All the people he’d wanted to keep out of his head and out of his life were now privy to the darkest secrets that only his closest friends knew.

Even when he was in the limelight, Klavier had very pointedly kept his personal life private. It had annoyed reporters to no end, and they were always inventing creative ways to try and pull more details out of him. He would gladly go back and divulge his entire childhood if they would let him have this one secret to himself.

Were his coworkers at the office bent over their computers, whispering to each other and trying to figure out what it was that had tipped him over the edge? He could see the families of victims he’d avenged shaking their heads in disappointment. Teenage girls across the globe were crying into their pillows, saying they’d had no idea.

“I’m so sorry,” Apollo finally said to fill the silence.

“Where’s my phone?” Klavier demanded through clenched teeth.

Apollo faltered for a moment, only to wither under Klavier’s glare. He pulled Klavier’s work phone out of his pocket and slid it over. Klavier picked it up, notifications lighting up the screen even as he held it.

“Scheiße,” he spat.

He had one hundred and forty-seven missed calls, and three hundred and forty-eight unread texts. When this was over he was going to have to nuke this phone. Just as he was about to crush the blasted device beneath his heel, the screen lit up with a call from an all too familiar number. Klavier sighed, deciding to bite the bullet and pick up.

“Ja?” he said in a tired voice.

“Is it true?” his agent asked sharply.

Klavier scowled. “And a guten Morgen to you, too,” he grumbled, rubbing his temples.

“Cut the bullshit, Gavin, and answer me,” he demanded.

Klavier resisted the urge to grind his teeth. “Yes,” he answered curtly.

“Why the hell am I just hearing about the now?” his agent shouted. “You should have called me first thing when you woke up. The press is having a field day and I’m sitting here with my thumb up my ass.”

Klavier closed his eyes. “I’m sorry, I had a bit more pressing matters at hand,” he said pointedly.

There was a harsh snort on the other end. “Right, and how’s that going for you now that Hollywood is ready to have you committed? Just because you’re not a rockstar anymore doesn’t mean you can slack off. That’s why you haven’t fire me, remember?”

Klavier growled. “I can still do that,” he threatened.

“Because I’m sure you want to deal with this mess yourself?”

Klavier seethed, knowing his prick of an agent was right. The other man took Klavier’s silence for consent.

“Look, it’ll be fine kid. We’ll sit you down with a reporter and you’ll tell them how much you regret it and how much better you’re doing, maybe cry a little. This might even be good for you, all the teens are depressed nowadays. This’ll make you relatable, a role model even!”

Klavier pressed the heel of his palm to his eye. He had no interest in being a role model or becoming Hollywood’s posterboy for depression. He was sick of putting on a show for the crowd, pretending he was fine when he decidedly wasn’t. Even if the words would change, it was still the same thing. Klavier wanted no part of it. He wouldn’t sit in front of a camera and tell the world that he was fine, that “it gets better” when he had no idea if it would. Klavier was just barely keeping his head above water; he wasn’t about to be anyone else’s life raft.

“Mein Gott, fuck off,” he spat into the receiver. “I’m not going to talk to anyone, right now. Now, I don’t care what you say, and I don’t care who you pay off, but leave me out of it!” Klavier roared, hanging up before he heard a reply.

He tossed the phone to Apollo. “Just turn it off and don’t answer anything,” he grumbled, pushing himself to his feet. “I’m going back to bed.”

Apollo watched him with worried eyes, obediently turning the phone off. “Do you want to be alone?” he asked.

Klavier nodded, dragging his feet as he headed back to the bedroom. He allowed Vongole to trail behind him, her tail tucked between her legs.

“I love you,” Apollo called after him. The only response was the slam of the bedroom door as Klavier disappeared inside.

Klavier crawled back into bed, burrowing in the covers. Vongole hopped up beside him, laying down on Apollo’s side of the bed. Klavier sighed, burying his face in her fur. She whimpered, gently licking the top of Klavier’s head. He curled in on himself, trying to make his body as small as possible. He hoped that it would hide him from a world that only seemed interested in tearing him down.

Klavier couldn’t say how much time passed before the door slowly creaked open. “There’s someone on the phone for you,” Apollo called gently, standing anxiously in the doorway.

Klavier remained where he was, lacking the energy to even lift his head. “I don’t want to talk,” he mumbled into Vongole’s belly.

“It’s Mr. Edgeworth,” Apollo added quietly.

Klavier sighed, shifting onto his back so that his face wasn’t hidden. He propped himself up against the headboard and held his hand out for the phone. Apollo dutifully handed it over, afterwards taking a seat on the bed. He idly stroked Vongole’s back while shooting Klavier furtive glances.

“Herr Edgeworth,” Klavier greeted tiredly.

“Gavin,” Edgeworth said in return. “I said I’d call in a couple days. I wish it were under better circumstances,” he explained.

Klavier sighed. “You and me both.”

“How are you feeling?” Edgeworth asked with concern.

“I’ve been better,” Klavier said wryly. He ran a hand through his hair (it was strange trying to do so with it shorter). “I can only imagine what my coworkers will have to say.”

Edgeworth hummed thoughtfully. “I think you’ll find that’s taken care of.”

Klavier paused, raising one eyebrow. “What did you do?” he asked. Despite his sour mood, he couldn’t help the twinge of amusement in his voice.

Edgeworth’s smug smile was evident in his voice. “I may have made it clear that anyone caught gossipping about the lives of their coworkers will be taken to court for harassment. So far I’ve heard nothing but well wishes for you.”

Klavier couldn’t hold back the gentle laughter that bubbled up from his chest. “Danke, Herr Edgeworth.”

“I do what I can,” he proclaimed simply. “Now that you have one less worry, how are you?”

Klavier’s laughter ceased and his smile fell. “If only everything else could be handled with such ease,” he sighed. “My agent is none too pleased with me at the moment.”

“What did he say?” Edgeworth demanded sharply.

“He was very angry that I hadn’t called, and he wants me to sit down with some reporters and do damage control, but I’m nowhere near ready to give a statement to the public,” he explained defeatedly. Somehow when he started explaining his troubles, they all poured out.

“Fire him,” his boss snapped curtly.

Klavier pulled at his hair. “I wish I could, but there’s no way I can handle the press on my own.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Edgeworth instructed. “I believe my sister knows someone that can help you. I’ll get you in contact with her later today. You don’t need to deal with someone who intentionally agitates you and puts more importance on your image than you.”

Klavier slumped back, rubbing the back of his neck. “You don’t think I’m being… selfish? I have so many young fans, I wouldn’t want them to think—”

“Klavier,” Edgeworth cut in sharply. “You have every right to keep this to yourself. You don’t owe anyone an explanation, least of all the media.”

Klavier sighed with relief, grateful to have someone ease his worries. “Danke, Herr Edgeworth, just… thank you,” he breathed.

“As I said, I only wish to make this as easy as possible for you,” Edgeworth assured him smoothly. “Now, the first thing you’re going to do after I hand up is fire that horrendous agent of yours, understand?”

Klavier chuckled. “Ja, Herr Edgeworth, crystal clear.”

“Good, then I wish you well. I’m sure half the city of Los Angeles is trying to get in contact with you right now, but remember, you aren’t required to talk to anyone.”

Klavier nodded. “Ja, goodbye, Herr Edgeworth.”

“Goodbye, don’t push yourself,” Edgeworth added before promptly hanging up.

Klavier relaxed a little, some of his worries eased. Before, he had never realized how caring his boss truly was, but he was beyond grateful for it. He settled back in bed, looking to Apollo. His boyfriend’s eyes were less worried, a timid smile tugging on his lips. Klavier pointed at him

“Turn on my phone and fire my agent,” he instructed.

Apollo laughed, getting up from bed and pulling Klavier’s abandoned work phone from his pocket. “Yessir,” he replied, giving Klavier a salute.

Apollo left the room, leaving Klavier alone with Vongole once more. All Klavier wanted was to close his eyes and sleep until this debacle was over, and when he woke up the media would have moved focus to someone else. The phone at Klavier’s side rang shrilly, derailing that plan.

Klavier groaned internally before picking up the phone (it was the house phone so at least it was guaranteed to be someone he knew). “Hello?”

“Fop,” came a curt voice.

Klavier rubbed his temples. “Ah, Fräulein Skye. To what do I owe the pleasure?” he muttered drily.

Normally he would put on his charms and needle the poor detective. At the moment, though, he wasn’t in the mood to hear what she had to say.

“How long have we worked together?” she asked, ignoring his question.

Klavier had no idea where this line of questioning was going, but out of curiosity he decided to play along. “Two or three years.”

Ema huffed like he’d drudged up a bad memory. “I’d say we know each other pretty well by now,” she mused. “So you know I have no interest in those silly tabloids you always appear in—”

“Ja, ja,” Klavier grumbled, rolling his eyes. “They’re ‘unscientific trash’ is what I believe you said.”

“I’m flattered, you’ve been paying attention.” Her tone bore no hint of actual flattery. “Then know that I in no way respect or believe the papers when I ask: is it true?”

Klavier sank back into his pillow, wishing the sheets would strangle him where he lay. “Ja, it’s true.”

Ema was silent for a long time. It was enough that Klavier began to think she’d hung up. He checked and was surprised to see the call was still going, Ema was just being unnaturally silent. Klavier let her be, he couldn’t imagine she would have any kind words for him. She despised him under normal circumstances, he could only imagine how little she thought of him now.

“They have me working for Blackquill,” she blurted.

Klavier wished she were there so she could see his baffled expression. “I’m sure you appreciate his stoic demeanor more than my ‘glimmerousness.’”

To his surprise, Ema snorted. “He’s a huge pain. No matter how many times I tell him not to, he keeps sending me files through that silly pigeon of his. I keep telling him ‘we have our updated filing system for a reason’ but he always gets all gloomy and just says ‘there are no computers behind bars, Skye-dono.’”

Klavier couldn’t help but chuckle at her Blackquill impression. “Do you like anyone?” he wondered aloud.

Ema ignored him. “That is to say: you may be a fop, but at least I know how to deal with you.”

Klavier pinched himself, convinced he must still be dreaming. When he realized he was very much awake, he stared at the phone in stunned silence. He… hadn’t expected this. He was at a loss for what to say. So he slipped into his usual mask.

“Is the Snackoo Queen starting to miss me?” he teased.

“Don’t push it,” she shot back testily.

Klavier laughed, glad that even after all he’d done, Ema was still the same. “In all seriousness, Ema, I appreciate it,” he spoke softly.

Ema fell quiet again, the silence only broken by Vongole’s soft pants. “Why didn’t you say anything?” she finally asked.

Klavier idly picked at the stray hairs on his shirt. “Before I did it, or after?”

“Either.”

“Well, I didn’t tell anyone before. I don’t even think I knew myself,” he admitted.

Ema huffed. “That is just like you. So impossibly dense.” Despite her words, her voice was light, not her usual biting tone.

Klavier continued. “And after, well, to be frank, I was under the impression that you didn’t like me.”

“I… can see where you might have thought that,” she relented. “But I don’t hate you.”

“I’m touched,” Klavier said flatly.

Ema ignored him. “When they first assigned me to you, it pissed me off. Prosecutors are supposed to be like my sister, or Edgeworth and you’re nothing like them. And every time you did something they wouldn’t do I’d get annoyed, and your music, God, I couldn’t stand it. It didn’t help that you were the prosecutor when Phoenix lost his badge.”

“No, really, my heart is melting,” Klavier droned.

“But,” Ema said pointedly. “After seeing you work, I think you might be pretty decent.”

“Let me go put that on my resume.” Behind his sarcasm, Klavier was shocked at the praise, however slight. It was the first time he’d ever heard Ema say anything good about him.

“Ugh, see if I ever compliment you again, fop,” she grumbled, but he could hear there was no venom to it.

“Danke, Ema,” he said quietly. “It really means a lot.”

Ema sighed reluctantly. “It better, I don’t do this feelings crap for—”

Her sentence was cut off by an unholy screech. “Ema?” Klavier called fearfully.

“It’s Blackquill’s pigeon!” she shouted. “How did you even find me, I’m at my house!” she yelled.

Now that he listened, Klavier was able to hear an incessant “tap tap tap” that could have been a beak on glass. He couldn’t help but laugh.

“You think this is funny?” Ema snapped. “God, you better come back soon, because I’m about to pluck this godforsaken bird.”

She hung up then, presumably to get rid of the bird. Apollo came back to the room to find Klavier staring at the phone incredulously, crying with laughter.

“What happened?” he asked, bewildered.

Klavier shook his head. “I think Fräulein Skye just told me to ‘get well soon.’”

Chapter Text

Unfortunately, not everyone could be as sympathetic as Ema and Edgeworth. Klavier spent the better part of the afternoon watching as new outlets expounded more and more on the details surrounding Klavier’s trip to the hospital. Some posited that Klavier had fallen into drug abuse like so many rockstars before him. Others simply made stories up once they ran out of tangible leads. And all of the articles served as a backdrop for all the people discussing his reasons.

People he’d never met and would never talk to sat in a newsroom and claimed he’d done it out of guilt, because of his brother, he’d fallen into a depression after The Gavinners broke up, infidelity, or any number of reasons. These people didn’t know him, and yet they claimed to know why he’d tried to end his life. They wondered if it was a grab for attention, or an attempt to immortalize himself by dying young. How could he do this to his loved ones and caring fans? If Klavier Gavin isn’t happy with his life, what hope do the rest of us have?

Klavier’s first instinct was to grab a bottle of Jack and drink himself to oblivion. But he remembered Athena’s advice and instead laid on the couch listening to music. He couldn’t turn the TV on for fear of seeing a new report talking about him. He wished he had his guitar so he could try his hand at playing. But his guitar was at his house, which was no doubt swarmed by reporters now.

The media’s questions were only parroted back at him by his former bandmates. They were confused, some angry, and Klavier simply told them he was fine and left it at that. Now he was pointedly ignoring them and the rest of the world.

Apollo had left Klavier on his own while he ran errands. It was the first time since Klavier had come home that he’d been truly alone. He suspected Apollo understood he wanted some time to himself. He appreciated it, and the silence was welcome.

It was while he was gone that he got a call from an unknown number. He sighed, turning off his music and picking up. “Hello?” he said, ready to hang up if it was a reporter.

“Hello,” said a gentle feminine voice. “Is this Klavier?”

“Ja.”

“Hi, Klavier, this is Adrian Andrews, I’m Mr. Edgeworth’s friend,” she explained. “He told me you were in need of an agent. It’s been a while since I’ve represented anyone, but if you’d have me I’d gladly help you.”

Her voice was sweet and comforting, completely unlike any of the agents Klavier had dealt with in his career. In his experience, agents were always harsh and loud. They had to be, with the number of people they talked to daily and the number of demands they needed to make on their clients’ behalves. It was a job that didn’t condone itself to simple niceties. But Klavier welcomed the change.

“Ja, danke. I’m sure you’ve, uh, heard about my current situation,” Klavier said anxiously. “I’m obviously in no position to deal with it myself.”

Adrian made a sympathetic sound. “Yes, of course. I know how distressing this must be for you. How would you like to go about handling the press?” she asked.

Klavier was taken aback. Usually his decisions were minor, choosing what day to meet reporters or where to meet them. It was fine most of the time, given that he preferred to let his agent handle that, Klavier’s job was just to show up. But now he was grateful to have a bit of control.

“Well, I don’t want to talk to anyone, at least not for now. Maybe later, but I won’t make any promises. And I’d like to be left alone, but I probably can’t expect much there,” he grumbled.

“Unfortunately, I’m not a miracle worker,” Adrian said regretfully. “Would you like to tell the truth?”

“Is there another option?” Klavier asked.

“Well, we could either tell the press it was a simple accidental overdose, though there’s no guarantee they’ll buy that. Or we could say you have a drug problem, if you prefer that. And of course we can confirm that it was a suicide attempt, but it’s your choice,” she explained, voice free of judgment.

Klavier swallowed thickly. He didn’t particularly like any of those options. “I suppose the truth is best?” he said shakily.

“I know you’re scared, Klavier,” Adrian soothed. “But it’ll be alright.”

Klavier let out a shuddering breath. “Will it really?” he wondered aloud.

“Yes, it will,” she assured. “Believe it or not, I was in your position once. And I know how violating it feels to have it revealed against your will.”

That did offer Klavier some comfort. “You have?” he asked quietly.

“Uh-huh,” she hummed. “I was a bit younger than you at the time.”

“If, if you don’t mind…” Klavier began apprehensively. “Can I ask how long ago it was?”

Despite only just meeting Adrian—and not even face to face—he felt a sense of comradery with her through their shared experience, however morbid it was.

Adrian hummed thoughtfully. “It will be about eleven years, I think?”

Klavier let out a long breath. Eleven years was a long time. Eleven years ago Klavier was still in school, studying abroad and on the fast track to getting his prosecutor’s badge. So much had changed since then. How much would change in another eleven years?

“And things are… good?” he questioned hesitantly.

Adrian giggled softly. “If you’re asking me if it gets better, I can’t speak for everyone, but I’m very happy I’m still alive.” Her voice trickled smoothly through Klavier’s mind like clearwater.

“Th-that’s good,” Klavier said.

“It can be like that for you, too,” she assured him.

Klavier himself wasn’t so sure. He felt so frayed and unhinged that he doubted all the bandages in the world could mend him. Adrian may have put herself back together, but what if she had an internal resilience that Klavier lacked? At the moment, Klavier’s struggles felt hopeless. He’d tried so hard, so damn hard, but as soon as he made progress, the world sought to pull him back,

He was so tired of fighting.

“Now, before I go, is there anything you’d like me to tell the press for you?” she asked. “Tell them that you’re getting help, promote a charity dealing with mental illness…?”

“Um, just say that I’m doing fine, I’m spending time with my loved ones, and I’d like to be left alone while I recover,” he said with a shaking voice.

Adrian hummed approvingly, and he heard the scratch of a pen on paper. “Alright, it was good to talk to you,” she said sweetly. “I’ll handle this, you just sit back and focus on getting better, okay?”

People kept telling him to “get better.” What if that wasn’t an option?

Klavier sighed, grateful for her help despite his reservations. “Danke, just send me an invoice for your time, ja?” he said.

Adrian laughed. “Of course.”

The line went silent. But despite the comforting words from his friends and all the support he’d received, there was still an aching hollowness where his heart should be. So many of his friends were watching him, offering kind words and helpful gestures. Shouldn’t the outpouring of support make Klavier happy? And yet here Klavier sat, his bones rotting while his lungs set fire to the remains. It hurt to move, it hurt to breathe. Klavier wanted to claw out of his skin.

Apollo returned about ten minutes after Adrian hung up. He watched Klavier with piercing eyes, trying to determine how the other man was feeling. He hovered in the doorway, unwilling to step in until he got a sense for Klavier’s mood.

For once Klavier was the one to break the silence. “Am I selfish?” he wondered aloud.

Apollo set his keys down, padding across the floor to where Klavier sat. He looked down at him, finding glassy, faraway eyes. He gently lowered himself next to his boyfriend, putting a tentative hand on his knee.

“I don’t think so,” he replied truthfully.

Klavier didn’t react to Apollo’s presence his eyes still locked on a blank space of the wall. “If I had succeeded, all of you would have been left to clean up my mess.”

Apollo’s fingers dug into Klavier’s leg. “You were, are, hurting,” he justified.

Klavier’s expression remained flat and unaffected. “How much of an excuse is that?” he spat. “I didn’t stop for even a moment to consider the people I’d leave behind. And even now, everyone is bending over backwards to accommodate me and it hasn’t changed a damn thing!”

Apollo tried to catch Klavier’s eyes, his own pleading. “We want to help you.”

Klavier scowled. “And how long are you going to help me? How much help do I deserve?” His voice held a harsh edge as his eyes finally flashed to Apollo’s.

Apollo furrowed his brow as their eyes met. “We’ll help you as long as it takes?” he supplied, unsure why Klavier was even asking.

Klavier scoffed. “What if it takes the rest of my life?”

“Then we’ll spend it helping you,” Apollo said firmly.

“And what if the rest of my life isn’t that long? What if you put in all the time and effort and it all goes to waste?”

Apollo jolted back, his face stiff as he fought to school his expression. His hand tightened on his lover’s knee. “K-Klavier, what are you thinking?

“I’m thinking that you should be telling me how selfish I am, how hard all of this is on you, how I need to try harder, or that I’m not worth all the effort!” he shouted, shooting out of his seat.

Klavier tore himself out of Apollo’s grasp, and Apollo’s hand fell limply at his side. “But Klavier, I don’t think any of that,” he said weakly.

Klavier’s back was to Apollo, and he refused to look back. He tore at his hair with a pained hiss. “Of course you wouldn’t, you’re too good,” he breathed. “You haven’t been to work all week, Schatzi! You’ve been too busy here taking care of me and making sure I don’t hurt myself because I can’t be trusted! Do you not see how disruptive that is?” he asked, his voice pleading for Apollo to just see what he saw. How could he not see?

Apollo stared at the center of Klavier’s back. He wanted nothing more than to stand and wrap him in a tight hug. But he didn’t want to force that on him. “You’re sick. Of course I’m going to take care of you.”

The overwhelming pressure in Klavier’s chest erupted as a growl in the back of his throat. “This is so painful for you, and it’s my fault. But I’m so wrapped up in my own bullshit that I can’t see it. You do so much for me and I’m incapable of returning the favor. I take and take, but I can’t give,” he lamented painfully, finally glancing back.

Apollo’s face was grim, eyes filling with tears at seeing the man he loved so distressed. “Being with you is enough,” he insisted.

“Scheiße, Apollo, no it’s not! I just wanted to stop seeing everything ruined. Even before, everyone and everything I love turned to ash, and it’s only a matter of time before it happens again.”

Apollo shakily got to his feet. “You know none of those things were your fault,” he assured.

Klavier scoffed. “Do I?” he snapped. “It can’t just be a coincidence, Schatzi. You know as well as I do that there’s no such thing, there’s something wrong with me! That’s the only logical explanation.”

Apollo held his hands out in front of him. “God, there’s nothing logical about that!” he shouted with frustration.

Just as Klavier wanted Apollo to see what he saw, Apollo was pleading with Klavier to see from his eyes. Where Klavier only saw himself as weak and fake, Apollo saw a man so filled with passion that he forsook himself over the truth. Klavier and Apollo saw two different, irreconcilable people.

Klavier turned away again, refusing to meet his eyes. “It would’ve been better for everyone if I hadn’t woken up.”

Apollo’s whole body shook as he crossed his arms. “Please don’t say that,” he begged. “I love you so much, I couldn’t…”

Klavier turned on his heel. “Why can’t you just admit that I’m making everything harder?”

“What do you want me to say?” Apollo yelled desperately. “That seeing you like this hurts? That I’d be heartbroken if you died? Or every time I look at you I remember finding you lying there? Because there it is!”

Klavier remained silent, his breath heavy as Apollo rushed through his torrent of emotions. “You have no idea how damn scared I was. I thought you were dead and it was like losing Clay all over again. Klavier, I’ve never been so damn scared in my life. I was angry, and confused, but most of all fucking terrified but none of that matters!” he shouted.

“I can’t ask you to bottle that up for my sake,” Klavier murmured, rubbing his shoulder.

“God, I’m not bottling anything up! You don’t need to hear about how you nearly dying makes me feel. I know you don’t need me to tell you that your death would hurt me, or that this is hard because you’re obviously doing fine job of telling yourself,” Apollo pointed out, his voice lowered. With that he let out a long breath, his anger seeming to seep out of him

Klavier sighed his own irritation beginning to lessen. He realized he’d gotten lost in his own confusion and had taken that out on Apollo. It only made him feel guiltier. “I’m sorry,” he breathed, refusing to meet his eyes.

Apollo shook his head. “I’m not going to tell you that you’re being selfish. I know you don’t need to hear that right now. I can’t claim to know what you’re feeling, but…” he trailed off, scratching the top of his head. “I know what it’s like to think you don’t have a place in this world.”

Klavier pressed his hands to his eyes, trying to stymie the flow of tears. “You do?” he asked.

It hurt to think that Apollo knew even a fraction of what Klavier felt. Apollo buried it down and held strong for Klavier’s sake. It wasn’t right for Klavier to ask that of him. Apollo had his own emotions, his own struggles but Klavier was overshadowing them with his own. Apollo was taking a backseat to the mess that was Klavier’s mental health. But how long could he forsake himself for his boyfriend? How long until his love turned to resentment and everything fell apart? What if it was already happening and Apollo was unaware?

Apollo nodded, taking one of Klavier’s hands and pulling it to his chest. “Yeah. I grew up in foster care, remember? It’s… hard not to wonder things like that when no one wants you.”

Klavier’s stomach dropped, and he suddenly felt incredibly unjustified in his depression when he had so much that Apollo had never experienced. “God, Schatzi, I didn’t even think—”

Apollo shook his head. “Don’t compare yourself to me,” he said, showing an uncanny ability to read Klavier’s mind. “You have every right to feel the way you do.” He gently tugged Klavier forward to wind an arm around his waist.

Klavier pushed him away, stepping back and pulling at his hair. “Apollo, it’s too much. There’s so much you deserve that I can’t give you.”

Apollo’s heart broke as Klavier pushed him away. But he knew better than to invade Klavier’s space. “Even if that were true, I fell in love with you. And there’s so much about you that I still love, even like this.”

Klavier scoffed, shooting Apollo a withered glance. “Like what?” he challenged.

Apollo wrung his hands, hating the venomous look in his boyfriend’s eyes. “Well, for starters, you’re so god damn noble. I mean, look at you! You’re so worried about me even though you feel terrible.” Apollo watched as Klavier’s angry mask faltered. “And you have so much passion, about everything you do. You put your all into everything, and I have no idea how you did it when you had two jobs, but you did. And just, you’re the best human being I’ve ever known and I don’t know how you can’t see it,” Apollo said, voice shaking.

Klavier was crying now, thick tears trailing across his face no matter how much he wiped them away. “Gott, Schatzi, it hurts,” he whimpered.

Apollo wished he could wrap Klavier in his arms and keep him there until it stopped hurting. “I know. I know it hurts and that’s not your fault.”

Klavier shook his head pressing his fists against his eyes. “I don’t want to, no, I can’t keep going if it hurts this much.”

Apollo fought back his own tears. “It won’t, it’s only been a few days, it won’t always feel like this,” he promised, throat tight as the words escaped.

“People keep saying that but how can they know? I’m not like other people. No matter what I do, it just keeps getting worse,” Klavier sobbed.

Apollo stood, helpless as Klavier broke down in front of him. There was nothing he could do to make the agony Klavier was feeling go away. He took a tentative step forward, like he was approaching a frightened animal. When Klavier didn’t flinch, he took another and placed a gentle hand on Klavier’s shoulder. Klavier leaned into the touch, and he took it as permission to pull Klavier into a bruising hug. He held Klavier’s shaking body, gently lowering himself onto the couch. Klavier desperately nuzzled into Apollo’s shoulder, hiding his blotchy, red face.

“I don’t expect to make it better,” Apollo said quietly, squeezing Klavier like he would fade away. “God, I would do anything if I could. But I know I can’t, all I can do is tell you that I’m here.” He pressed a soft kiss to Klavier’s head. “I know you’re hurting, and it’s okay. It’s okay for you to hurt.”

The ensuing silence was only broken by Klavier’s ragged breaths. His whole body shook, and it was humiliating to be reduced to pained sobs in front of Apollo. He was so much more than that. But listening to Apollo’s words, Klavier did his best to believe them. He wanted to believe that it was okay to cry, that he was granted a breakdown after all this time. But it was still so hard. He cried into Apollo’s chest until he ran out of tears, and then he just shook in his lover’s arms.

Apollo spoke again once Klavier had quieted. “Can I just ask for one thing?” Klavier hummed into his chest to show he was listening. “I know you’re in a lot of pain, and I know you just want it to stop, but whatever you’re thinking…” He trailed off, digging his nails into Klavier’s back. “Can you wait? Can you just… wait until tomorrow, and see if you’re still feeling bad.”

Klavier shuddered against Apollo’s chest. He hurt so much, the thought of waiting and continuing to feel like this was the worst thing he could imagine. But such was life, and Klavier knew he didn’t really have another option.

“Ja,” he mumbled into Apollo’s shirt.

Apollo gave him a squeeze. “Thank you,” he breathed, and Klavier could feel the relief on his skin. “Do you think you can sleep?”

No, Klavier couldn’t imagine falling asleep when it felt like his lungs were filled with glass. “I can try,” he murmured instead.

Apollo kissed the top of his head. “Thank you,” he repeated.

He helped Klavier up, leading him to the bedroom on shaking legs. Klavier fell into bed with a crash, too weary to even get under the covers. He was ever thankful for Apollo, who gently pull the blankets over him, fluffed the pillow under his head, and smoothed his hair back. Apollo leaned down to press a gentle kiss to Klavier’s sweat slick forehead.

Klavier grabbed onto Apollo’s arm before he could leave. “Schatzi, could you…” He paused to swallow the knot in his throat. “Could you hide the pills?” he asked weakly.

Apollo was quiet for a moment. “Of course,” he acquiesced. He slowly leaned down to wrap his arms around Klavier’s neck, kissing his cheek one last time.

Then Apollo left, his absence leaving Klavier feeling cold and alone. Klavier did his best to burrow into his pillow, shutting the world out. Apollo switched off the light with a click and left, leaving Klavier to fall into a fitful rest.

Chapter Text

He woke up in the middle of the night to Apollo at his back. He was shrouded in heavy darkness, Apollo’s breath beating a slow rhythm on his neck. The covers were too hot; he felt like his clothes were heavy with sweat and his skin unclean. He threw back the blankets, gently sitting up so as not to wake Apollo. Even without the blankets suffocating him, the air in Apollo’s bedroom was stagnant. The thick, oily darkness slid down his throat with every inward breath and stole his air. The room was heavy and hot and it was slowly smothering Klavier. He needed out.

Klavier slowly stood, the bed creaking gently. But Apollo’s breathing never faltered, and that was what mattered. Klavier padded across the carpet, despite his growing panic, moving slowly and opening the door without a squeak. He escaped into the living room, filled with the same darkness. But it was more spacious, and it allowed Klavier room to breathe.

He tread to the kitchen, grabbing a cup from the cupboard and hastily filling it with water. He took a series of gulps, draining the water like a dying man. When it was gone, he went back for more, the water running in rivulets down his chin. He’d hoped it would cool him down, enough to where his skin no longer felt like it was burning off his bones.

No matter how much he drank, the air was still and dead. It clouded his mind as it poisoned his lungs. He needed out.

Klavier stepped out of the apartment and onto cold pavement with bare feet. He leaned back against the wall, letting out a long breath as the cool night air bathed his skin. Icy cold relief flooded his veins and for the first time in days his mind felt clear. The breeze tickled the back of his neck. Klavier opened his eyes, face upturned to gaze at the sky. All he saw was a dark blanket over the world, not a star in sight. Light pollution never made for starry skies.

Klavier wondered if he could see the stars from somewhere else. The fresh air felt so good and he wasn’t ready to go back inside just yet. He told himself he would walk to the end of the block and turn back. Klavier started walking, the pads of his feet scratching against the sidewalk. He got to the end of the block, and kept walking.

He didn’t know where he was going. He just knew it was a gorgeous night, and being out in the open air was a blessing. And he was alone for the first time in ages. It was just him and the empty night sky. Even the streets were nearly empty, cars only driving past once every few minutes. It had been so long since he’d had enough room to breathe. He filled his lungs like balloons, fit to burst with each breath.

California nights were cool, but not cold. Klavier was perfectly suited for it in his flimsy sleepwear. Though as he walked further, a jacket would have been welcome. He didn’t turn back, walking until his feet were sore and rubbed raw. He could feel the blisters splitting between his toes and the pebbles digging into his heel. But he wrapped his arms around himself and carried on.

He came to a bridge.

It was the same bridge he and Apollo had crossed the other day. Just like before, he stopped in the middle and gazed out over the sea. Unlike before, the bridge was empty, he was the only one here. No was here to see him (to stop him). He shuddered, the cool air seeping into his bones. He didn’t move, eyes locked on the sea and following it closer, closer, until he was staring straight down again.

Under the cover of night, everything was black. The sea was an oil slick, creeping onto dry land, and the only thing below was a dark abyss. He couldn’t see the ground, but he saw it in his mind, the way it had appeared two days before. He knew that the only thing below was the hard ground (a sudden stop).

As he stared down into that abyss, it occurred to him that this was real. That the ground below was there and he was here and there was thirty feet between them. The wind prickled his skin, the concrete was rough beneath his feet, and the barrier in front of him was so small he could so easily swing his leg over…

It terrified him and excited him at the same time. Before he’d taken the pills in his bathroom, he’d been too drunk to realize what he was doing. He’d barely been cognizant of his surroundings, much less what he was about to do. But now he was hyperaware of his surroundings and the possibility. He smoothed a hand over the stone barrier on the bridge, the cracks and bumps on its surface scratched the pads of his fingers.

He’d never felt so much at once. He felt at ease for once in his long, long, life (some people would argue). Tremors ran through his whole body as he threw one leg over the rail, then the other. (He told himself it was just to prove he could).

And he did. The stone barrier pressed harshly into his tailbone as he sat (it wasn’t ever meant to be sat on). Klavier’s legs dangled over the edge, flirting with the inky blackness below. His hands gripped the rail, his knuckles white as he stared down, down, down.

He could. He could.

He wouldn’t hurt anymore, there would be no more fatigue, no more tears, and the constant rollercoaster of emotions would stop. The world would stop toying with him, he would have no more responsibilities, no more disappointments. For once in his weary existence, he could rest. He could let go of his ties to this world. After all this time, rest was all he wanted.

He had lived a long time. Twenty-six years full of passion and dedication. It was more than many people got. Klavier had fought through each one of those years, and after all this time he was so tired of fighting. He’d earned a rest.

He set the heels of his feet in the slats of the guardrail, his hands gripping onto the stone. His body pitched forward, arms stretching behind him like a puppet’s strings. He dangled over the drop, gazing into the abyss.

One push, and he would sail as a ship leaving the harbor. His arms shook and his chest heaved. (He could). His hair was buffeted by the wind, his arms burning even though his skin felt like ice. It was a gorgeous night, and if ever there were one to be his last, this was it.

If he let go, he wondered who would find him. Would they recognize him right away, or would he end up in the coroner’s office first? He didn’t know them personally, but he had seen them in passing. They’d likely identify him right away. How long would it take to reach his friends? When Apollo woke up in the morning, would he have an unpleasant surprise waiting for him on the answering machine from a grim faced Edgeworth?

Klavier’s chest tightened at the thought of his boyfriend. Wonderful Apollo who didn’t deserve any of this. He wondered if his side of the bed had already grown cold. Apollo would know something was wrong immediately when he woke up. He would panic and scream, and Klavier wouldn’t be there to calm him down.

He loved Apollo so much. He’d give him the world if he could. Instead all he could offer was himself, this fractured human being that kept breaking further. Klavier wished he had told Apollo how much he loved him, told him that this wasn’t his fault, he’d done everything he could but Klavier should never have woken up. He wanted to tell Apollo that he deserved the best and that wasn’t Klavier.

He wished he’d been able to tell that to all his loved ones. Athena, Wright, Edgeworth, and Trucy. He wanted to tell them all that they’d be fine without him. They had each other and they would be okay.

His fingers felt raw and sore where the stone dug in. (He could let go, he could let go any time he wanted). He told himself he would count to ten. He only got to three before Apollo’s smile flashed behind his eyes. It was like the floodgates opened, because soon he could hear Apollo’s laughter, Athena’s silly German accent, Trucy’s magic shows.

He didn’t want those to end.

He shook, hanging thirty feet above the ground. He wanted to stop hurting, but he didn’t want to stop living. All his most precious moments would be lost; the memories of touring with Daryan, when he was younger and Kristoph was kind, his wonderful mother. He was the only one left with those memories, and they would die with him.

Klavier so desperately wanted to laugh again, to go back to work and love his job as he used to, he wanted to hold Apollo’s hand for years to come, because the time he’d had with him hadn’t been nearly enough. He wanted to get better. He wanted to look back on this night and feel grateful that he hadn’t let go.

He could let go. But he was human, and the abyss was a terrifying unknown.

His arms burned as he pulled himself back, hoisting himself back to safety. He set his still sore feet on solid ground and nearly cried. He clapped a hand over his mouth, leaning back on the divide. He shook as he realized what he’d very nearly done. Klavier didn’t know who he was anymore.

He was lost within his own mind.

On sore feet, he kept walking, not daring to turn home. He needed to get as far away from this godforsaken bridge as possible. He walked, and walked, and walked, hit feet screaming at him with every step. He let them carry him on a familiar path, his body moving without a thought.

He came to a house, and without thinking his feet walked up the drive and his hand rapped on the door. Minutes passed, as it was still the middle of the night. He knocked again, considering curling up in the bushes and going to sleep. He was startled when the porch light turned on and a bleary man in silk pajamas blinked at him.

“Klavier?” Edgeworth asked incredulously, his eyebrows shooting up.

Klavier blinked at the sound of his name, unsure how he got here.

Thankfully his boss continued. “What are you doing here?” he asked.

That was a very good question, one Klavier himself wasn’t sure of. Edgeworth stepped past him to peer down the drive.

“How did you get here?” he asked.

Klavier blinked. “I, uh, walked?” he offered, unsure himself.

Edgeworth blinked at him, unsettled at his subordinate’s sudden appearance. He looked the man over, and he looked unusually frazzled. “You’re not wearing shoes.”

Klavier glanced down, seeing his bruised and bloodied feet. “Ach. No,” he said, voice stunned as if he were only just realizing this.

Edgeworth just stared at him before retreating back into the house. “Wait here,” he instructed, turning and nearly running into a confused Phoenix.

“Miles, who’s at the door?” he grumbled around a yawn.

Edgeworth walked around him, disappearing into the depths of the house. Phoenix glanced out, eyes widening in surprise when he saw Klavier.

“Oh,” he said in shock, seemingly having woken up. “Are you okay?”

Klavier just stared back numbly, unsure how to even begin answering that question. Phoenix shook his head.

“No, if you were okay you wouldn’t be here at three in the morning,” he mumbled to himself, before giving Klavier a strange look. “Why are you here?”

It was then that Edgeworth came back and dropped a pair of slippers at Klavier’s feet. “Put these on,” he instructed. “Then please come in.”

Chapter Text

Klavier did as told, following Edgeworth into the dining room where he set him down at the end of the table. Edgeworth and Phoenix proceeded to talk over him in hushed voices, before Phoenix disappeared and Edgeworth took a seat beside him. Edgeworth watched him with attentive eyes, expression neutral. Klavier just stared blankly ahead, still trying to figure out how he got here.

“Does Mr. Justice know you’re here?” he finally asked.

Klavier shook his head.

Edgeworth stood up, making his way toward the kitchen. “I’ll call him and let him know you’re here. Would you like some tea?” he called over his shoulder.

“Ja,” Klavier croaked weakly.

He clasped his hands in his lap, waiting while he heard Edgeworth milling about the kitchen. He heard a tea kettle whistling in the background. Edgeworth returned shortly, pushing a small white teacup into Klavier’s hands and pouring a steaming yellow liquid in.

“Chamomile,” he explained, before pouring his own.

Klavier nodded, holding the warm cup and taking a small sip. He didn’t know anything about tea, but he supposed it was nice to have something in his hands.

“I suppose I should start with what you’re doing up at the hour?” Edgeworth asked gently, setting his cup down on the table.

Klavier had no idea where to start. Not to mention the fact that he wasn’t even sure himself. He’d just wanted to take a damn walk.

He cleared his throat. “I woke up in the middle of the night, and I needed some fresh air. I went outside and then… I started walking,” he said with a shrug.

Edgeworth watched his face carefully. “And you kept walking until you arrived here?”

Klavier began shaking. Tea sloshed out of the cup and burned the back of his hand. Klavier managed not to drop the cup and he set it on the table, fisting his hands in his cotton sweatpants. Edgeworth’s eyes followed the burn forming across his knuckles, red welts blooming on his skin.

“I stopped on, on the bridge between Apollo’s and the Agency,” Klavier admitted, his voice shaking.

At the confession, Edgeworth set his teacup down on the table next to Klavier’s. “I see,” he said blankly, eyes focused on the drops of tea still sliding down the side of Klavier’s cup.

Klavier didn’t know if that was an invitation for him to keep talking. But he found his mouth moving nonetheless. “I-I don’t know what came over me. It just felt so, so real and I realized I could if I really wanted to. Then I couldn’t stop thinking about it and it was so overwhelming…” Klavier began to gasp, sucking in quick shallow breaths.

Edgeworth reached over to gently peel one of Klavier’s hands from his legs, holding it gently over the table. “Did you do anything?” he asked, brow furrowed in concern.

Klavier glanced up at him. “Hä?”

“Did you take anything? Do I need to call an ambulance?” Edgeworth clarified.

“Ach. N-nein,” Klavier replied, his face flushing to match his scalded hand.

Edgeworth gave his hand a reassuring pat. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of. I just needed to make sure,” he said calmly.

It occurred to Klavier that he was holding hands with his boss. Under normal circumstances he would have been flustered and pulled his hand away. Edgeworth wasn’t known for his displays of affection. But it was too comforting for him to pull away.

Klavier cleared his throat, continuing. “And then, a-after, I didn’t feel right going home so I. I came here?” he said. He still wasn’t quite sure how he’d ended up here.

Edgeworth nodded as if he understood. Klavier found that hard to believe, because he himself didn’t understand. All of a sudden it hit Klavier how silly all of this was. Him sitting here in his boss’s dining room with tea spilled across his lap when he should be home, still asleep.

An ice-cold chill ran down Klavier’s throat. “I have to go. I need to go, I shouldn’t be here,” he rambled, legs locking up when he told them to stand.

Edgeworth just tightened his grip on Klavier’s hand. “I’d prefer it if you stayed the night,” he assured.

Klavier let the comforting warmth around his hand ground him. He legs relaxed and he slumped back into the chair. “I just, ach. I feel so weak, I very nearly… I nearly died, I was so close and I…” He began shaking again.

Edgeworth just watched with knowing eyes. “You’re not weak. You chose to walk off that bridge and come here. That takes a lot of strength.” An unreadable emotion passed over Edgeworth’s face. “I would know.”

It took a moment for the words to sink in. When they did, Klavier met his boss’s gaze with questioning eyes. Edgeworth just gazed back plainly, like he hadn’t revealed something so personal.

A moment passed before Edgeworth cleared his throat. “I know you’ve seen the reports. The note I left all those years ago may not have been as fake as I let everyone believe,” he said stiffly.

Klavier stared at Edgeworth, their hands still joined as the cogs in his brain whirred. All the words in both of his languages vanished, leaving him gasping for air at the revelation. “Ah,” he finally managed.

Edgeworth gave him a glance tinged with amusement. “Eloquent as ever.”

Klavier pouted. That wasn’t exactly fair. What exactly was he supposed to say to that? Edgeworth took mercy on him and filled the silence himself. “Suffice to say, I understand what you’re going through to some extent. Your thoughts aren’t your fault.”

The implication, of course, was that once Edgeworth had been having the same thoughts as Klavier. He was filled with a sick sense of relief that someone he knew might understand. “I had no idea, Herr Edgeworth,” he murmured.

Edgeworth raised an eyebrow. “Yes, well, it’s not exactly something I talk about openly. You of all people would know that growing up with a murderer will do some damage to your psyche.”

Klavier nodded knowingly. He’d never considered that he an Edgeworth might have a lot in common in that respect. “Ja. Von Karma doesn’t seem like a… pleasant person to have been raised by,” he agreed.

Edgeworth flinched slightly at the name, a testament to how much damage the man had done. It had been a long time since anyone had mentioned him. “Yes, he was… Well, let’s not talk about him,” he said brusquely. “I’m sure Kristoph was no better.”

Klavier glanced away, staring at the lace-trimmed flowerpot in the center of the table. “That’s the thing though. Kristoph could be cruel and controlling but he wasn’t abusive.”

He glanced back at Edgeworth only to be levelled with a skeptical gaze. He stuttered, “I-I mean. He was, I know that now. But sometimes he was good, sometimes he loved me. And it’s so hard to think that in all those years there wasn’t something I could have done, especially with all the other things that have happened since.” Klavier took a moment to breathe, Daryan flashing through his mind. “I worry that it’s going to happen again, or that it’s already happening and I can’t stop it.”

Edgeworth watched him with kind, patient eyes. When Klavier finished, he spoke slowly. “Unfortunately, I can’t promise you that no one’s ever going to betray your trust again. It’s a part of life. I’ll tell you that what happened with your brother wasn’t your fault, but I know you already know that.”

Edgeworth paused to make sure Klavier was watching him. “But I understand that it’s your nature to take responsibility for it—it might even be something Kristoph taught you himself. It will take a long time for you to unlearn that, and it won’t be easy.”

Klavier’s face felt hot and his eyes fell from Edgeworth’s face to his collar, where his neck was strangely bare. “How can you be sure that I’ll ever get there?” he wondered aloud.

Edgeworth raised another dark eyebrow. “Because I did. And if I can do it, I’m sure the genius prodigy can.” He nudged Klavier gently with his foot at the joke, earning an aborted chuckle.

Klavier shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He appreciated the sentiment, but felt Edgeworth was underselling himself. Edgeworth sighed softly, seeing his younger self reflected in the way Klavier ignored his praise.

“Klavier, we—Wright, Trucy, Apollo, Athena, and I—we all want to see you through this. You’re a wonderful prosecutor and an even better friend. I would hope that, if you can’t find one yourself, you might find a reason to keep living in us.” Edgeworth gave Klavier’s hand a soft squeeze. “And I can offer you some perspective.”

Klavier nodded, a numb feeling of contentment washing over him. Knowing someone he respected so highly had been in his position and gotten through it allowed him to shelve his worries for a time. He could even sense a flicker of hope in the idea that he might get through it, too.

“How did you get through it?” Klavier asked, meeting Edgeworth’s eyes.

Edgeworth sat back in his chair, pursing his lips. “I faked my death and ran away to Europe for a year.” He gave Klavier a withering look. “It’s not something I would recommend. There are likely better ways to cope.”

Klavier couldn’t help but chuckle at that. “Ja, I can’t imagine that made for the best homecoming.”

Edgeworth hummed in agreement. “Though, if you’d like to go abroad for a time, I’d support that. It certainly helped me clear my head.”

The idea gave Klavier pause. It was a tempting idea. It had been so long since he’d last been to Europe. He could put an ocean between him and his worries and enjoy the sights. But even now, he could feel his work calling to him, and he couldn’t imagine what a whole year away from it would do. He needed some structure to his life that an extended vacation in Europe wouldn’t provide.

“I’ll think about it. But I think what I really want is to get back to work,” he said.

Edgeworth nodded in understanding. “Then I won’t argue. But if you change your mind, let me know.” Edgeworth finally slid his hand back to his side, and Klavier felt cold at the loss of contact. “I can refer you to a good doctor, I think you’d b—”

Edgeworth stopped abruptly as his eyes shot to the wall behind Klavier’s head. Klavier whipped around, seeing only an open doorway leading out into the living room. Edgeworth let out a long-suffering sigh before calling.

“Trucy,” he scolded. “I know you’re out there.”

Sheepishly, Trucy peeked her head out from behind the couch and shuffled closer, her hands tucked behind her back. “Hi Uncle Miles, hi Klavier.”

Edgeworth pinched the bridge of his nose. “What are you doing awake at this godforsaken hour?”

Trucy put her hands on her hips indignantly. “I heard Klavier at the door and I got worried!” she said defensively.

“And so you thought the best course of action was to eavesdrop on us from behind the couch?” Edgeworth asked wryly.

Trucy just smiled mischievously. “Daddy says listening in on people is an important part of being a lawyer!”

Klavier snorted at that one while Edgeworth continued to sigh. “He would,” he grumbled. “It’s not polite.”

“You say that like you’ve never done something questionable for a case,” she said knowingly.

Edgeworth groaned. “I plead the fifth.” The conversation dropped there, and Trucy beamed like she’d won.

It only lasted briefly before Trucy’s face fell again. “You never told me about, about all that stuff, Uncle Miles,” she said softly.

Edgeworth watched her eyes begin to fill up with tears and his demeanor softened. “It was all a very long time ago. Before your father adopted you,” he said gently.

Trucy sniffled, and leaned down to wrap her arms tightly around Edgeworth’s chest. “Still! It would have been so sad if I’d never met you!” she said.

Klavier wondered if one day he would be in Edgeworth’s position. There might be someone out there he had yet to meet, whose life he would change for the better. Someone who would look up to him with starry eyes and a smile like the sun, and when they counted their blessings Klavier would be among them. He wondered if there was someone out there whose life would be considerably worse without Klavier in it.

Edgeworth patted Trucy’s back gently. “I know, sweetheart. I’m very glad I stuck around.”

Trucy pulled away, wiping at her eyes with a smile. She turned to Klavier. “And that goes for you, too!” It was Klavier’s turn for a hug, and Trucy squeezed him so tight he feared she’d bruise his ribs.

Klavier just hummed contentedly, to weary to form a response. Edgeworth chuckled, seeing the droop in Klavier’s eyelids. “Why don’t you go back to bed and let Klavier get some rest?” he suggested.

Trucy shot him a glare and Edgeworth closed his mouth. It occurred to Klavier that Edgeworth might be wrapped around Trucy’s finger as tightly as Wright. “Nuh-uh, he’s staying with me tonight.”

Edgeworth’s eyes went wide. “You should really go back to sleep, Trucy,” he said hesitantly.

“Ja, I'll be fine on the couch.”

Trucy put her hands on her hips and stared the two men down. “Well, I think someone should keep an eye on Klavier and unless you want him in the room with you and Daddy…”

Klavier winced slightly. “I think I’d prefer to sleep in Trucy’s room.”

Edgeworth sighed for the hundredth time, but seemed to see reason in Trucy’s proposition. “Alright,” he relented.

Trucy bounced happily. “I have a sleeping bag you can use, it’ll be just like a sleepover!” she practically squealed, grabbing Klavier’s hand and hauling him out of the chair.

As they disappeared around the corner, Klavier shot his boss a helpless look. Edgeworth simply shrugged and went back to drinking his tea. Klavier stood in the doorway of Trucy’s room while she readied it for him. It was just as dishevelled as he would expect from the young magician, magic props strewn over her desk and spilling out onto the floor. She had posters of the latest magician troupes on her walls, and a worn stuffed bear on her bed.

Trucy pulled out a pink bundle from the top of her closet and spread it over the floor. Klavier belatedly realized it was a Hello Kitty sleeping bag. Trucy eyed the setup for a moment, hands on her hips before fetching a pillow off her bed and setting it down on the floor. She looked to Klavier for approval. He gave her a weak smile.

“Well? Get in!” she said brightly, gesturing to his makeshift bed.

Klavier shook his head, doing as he was told. He kicked off the loaned slippers and slid into the plush sleeping bag. He was surprised it would even fit someone his size. It wasn’t the most comfortable place he’d ever slept. But at the moment his bones were weary and as he laid down, he imagined he could have slept anywhere.

Edgeworth passed by on his way to his own bedroom. He poked his head in, met with the sight of Trucy sliding into her own covers while Klavier rolled around on the floor like a bright pink caterpillar.

He raised an eyebrow. “Keep the door open, and don’t stay up too late,” he instructed, thought it was already much too late.

Trucy nodded happily as he flicked off the light. “Night, Uncle Miles!” she called.

Klavier heard a soft thump as Trucy settled into her mountain of pillows. He’d thought that would be it for the night, until a soft voice spoke in the darkness.

“Thank you for coming here,” she murmured quietly.

Klavier shifted in the sleeping bag as he rolled onto his back. The fabric rustled. “I promised didn’t I?”

He heard a soft sniffle, muffled by a pillow, but he still heard it. “Do you feel better?” she whimpered.

For once Klavier didn’t even need to think about it. “Ja, I feel much better.”

Trucy made a noise of contentment. It was the last sound she made before her breathing began to even out as she fell asleep. Soon Klavier followed her, drifting into a dreamless sleep.

Chapter Text

Trucy’s face was the first thing he saw when he woke up. He blinked up at her, slowly sliding into consciousness as she stood over him.

“Good morning, Fräulein,” he yawned, rubbing at his eyes.

Trucy stared down at him silently, cocking her head with curious eyes. “You cut your hair,” she noted sullenly.

Klavier began the arduous task of crawling out of the sleeping bag. “Ja,” he grunted as he freed his torso, pushing himself into a sitting position.

Trucy pouted at him. “I can’t braid it like this!” she whined, Klavier could see her fingers twitch as she fought with herself not to touch.

Klavier chuckled, rubbing at the back of his neck. “It will grow out again, in time,” he assured.

And that was a strange thought—that there would be time.

Trucy nodded with a wistful sigh before reaching down to grab his hand. “C’mon, Uncle Miles is making breakfast! You don’t want to miss it,” she enthused.

She tugged insistently on his arm until Klavier got up. He winced as he put weight on his feet. They were still sore and battered from the day before, and he followed Trucy in short, stuttering steps. Trucy didn’t miss it, and after throwing a glance back at him, she did him the courtesy of slowing down.

Light streamed into the kitchen, Edgeworth and Wright basked in its golden glow. Phoenix had a mug of coffee in his hands as he pestered Edgeworth, who was bent over a waffle iron. At Edgeworth’s feet, Pess hungrily scarfed down her breakfast. Klavier was reminded of waking up in the hospital. Only this time he had chosen to wake up.

Phoenix’s eyes lit up when he saw them. “Good morning, kids!” he greeted with a wave.

Edgeworth glanced over his shoulder, acknowledging their presence with a nod. Trucy dropped Klavier’s hand and bounced to her father’s side.

“Good morning, Daddy!” she exclaimed, standing on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek.

A pleased flush spread over Phoenix’s nose. Klavier took a seat at the kitchen table, eager to get off his feet. Phoenix glanced over at their guest.

“I think Apollo’s going to join us for breakfast,” Phoenix announced. “He’ll probably be here soon.”

Klavier nodded folding his hands in his lap. He wasn’t sure what to say, but for once no one was looking to him for an explanation. The air was clear and no unspoken questions hung in the air. For once, Klavier felt at ease surrounded by friends.

Trucy took a seat across from him, pulling out her phone as she waited for breakfast to be ready. She only allowed a few minutes of silence before squealing, interrupting the quiet morning. Phoenix jumped, nearly dropping his coffee. Edgeworth started but played it off. Trucy quickly pulled her chair around to Klavier’s side and shoved her phone in his face.

“Look! You’re trending on Twitter!” she said excitedly.

Stunned, Klavier took her phone and looked through the tweets she’d pulled up. Apparently there were thousands of tweets, all containing the phrase #PrayForKlavier, enough that it was trending worldwide. Klavier fell into stunned silence as he quickly skimmed the hashtag. It ranged from tweets reading “i hope @pianogavin is doin better i was shockd wen i herd the news #PrayForKlavier” to “But #KlavierGavin is so talented :( Spend time w/ ur friends and get better!!! @pianogavin #PrayForKlavier” to “Fuck. I remember when I woke up. #PrayForKlavier he needs it right now.”

The last one sent shivers down his spine, and he could feel a knot forming in his throat. He shakily placed Trucy’s phone on the table. She snatched it back and began scrolling rapidly.

“There’s thousands of them!” she announced.

Klavier nodded, blinking back the flood pressing at the back of his eyes. Trucy glanced at his face and frowned. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

Klavier shook his head. “Nothing, Trucy.” At her skeptical look he let out a short laugh. “Really. I’m honored. I never imagined…” He pressed a tight fist to his mouth, knowing that if he tried to continue the floodgates would open.

Trucy softened, her smile returning. “Your fans love you!”

“I see that,” Klavier murmured in agreement. “Why is this happening now?”

Trucy looked to him thoughtfully, pursing her lips. “Well, Adrian made a statement late last night. And when your fans heard the news, I think they took it from there and started all this.” She looked back to her phone, continuing to scroll, occasionally favoriting the particularly sweet ones. “You have all kinds of actors and musicians tweeting at you!”

Klavier smiled at the thought that thousands of people were supporting him. He might not have met many of them, and the gesture might be small, but it warmed his heart nonetheless.

“I’ll have to thank them for it later,” he mused, wondering what he could possibly say to show his gratitude.

Trucy hummed thoughtfully. “You could always take a selfie with me. To show you’re alright,” she suggested slyly.

Klavier lightly kicked her under the table. “Nice try. I think they’d be distracted by the hair if I did that,” he pointed out.

Trucy stuck her tongue out at him. “We could put a wig on you.”

“Nein, nein!” Klavier cried.

A firm knock rang throughout the house. Edgeworth glanced towards the door. “That must be Apollo.”

“I’ll get it!” Phoenix said eagerly, already making long strides towards the door.

A minute later he came back with Apollo in tow. Apollo eyed Klavier as if seeing him for the first time, his eyes wide and piercing straight into Klavier. It was the first time that Klavier had felt uncomfortable since waking up, but he forced himself not to look away. He met Apollo’s eyes, an unspoken apology passing between them.

Everything else in the room faded away as Apollo closed the distance between them. He wrapped Klavier in a tight embrace, burying his nose into blond hair and breathing deep. He took his time, committing the feeling of Klavier in his arms to memory. He’d feared he would never get the chance to hold Klavier again, and he wasn’t about to let his chance slip by.

Klavier did the same, nuzzling into Apollo’s chest and breathing in. He already smelt of coffee beans, and Klavier wondered if he’d gotten any sleep at all. Klavier held Apollo close and allowed himself to be loved. He let the familiar comfort spark something in him that he’d thought long buried. This is what I stayed for, he thought. This is worth staying for.

Apollo pulled away, tenderly brushing Klavier’s hair back. “Guten Morgen,” Klavier murmured, offering him an easy smile.

“Good morning,” Apollo breathed back.

There was more to be said between them, explanations to be shared and boundaries to be discussed. But now was not the time, as Edgeworth cleared his throat and set a plate of golden waffles in the center of the table.

“You’re just in time for breakfast, Mr. Justice,” he greeted, taking a seat beside Trucy as Phoenix sat on his other side.

Apollo grabbed a chair and squeezed in next to Klavier. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world, Mr. Edgeworth,” he said brightly, leaning forward to grab some food.

No one was more surprised than Apollo when Klavier beat him, grabbing two waffles (he noticed they were vaguely shaped like Mickey Mouse) and slapping them onto his plate. Apollo paused, staring at Klavier in shock while Klavier set to work drowning his waffles in syrup. Edgeworth made a faint noise of distaste, but otherwise said nothing. (What Klavier didn’t know was this was due to Phoenix kicking him in the shin).

Klavier at like a starving man. For the first time in days, he enjoyed eating. He didn’t have to force himself to chew food, all the while feeling like he was eating cardboard. He was hungry, Edgeworth’s waffles were delicious, and he enjoyed them. Klavier kept himself busy eating, stuffing his mouth while Apollo watched him with equal parts horror and amusement.

Phoenix and Trucy didn’t seem affected, as they were similarly stuffing their faces. Edgeworth’s eye was twitching.

“These are great Uncles Miles!” Trucy beamed around a mouthful of food.

Edgeworth wrinkled his nose. “Don’t talk with your mouth full,” he scolded.

“Ja, these are the best waffles I’ve ever had,” Klavier claimed, mouth similarly full.

Edgeworth just shot him a withered glare while Trucy giggled and high-fived him beneath the table. When Klavier turned to look at Apollo, his shock had faded and was replaced with fondness. Their eyes met, and Klavier broke out into a charming smile.

Apollo snorted. “You have syrup on your face,” he laughed.

“Hä?” Klavier licked around his mouth to try and get it.

Apollo just snorted again and reached over to grasp Klavie's chin. “Here, I’ll get it.” He wiped the syrup off with his thumb, bringing it to his lips and licking it.

Klavier smiled, face heating up as Trucy cooed at them in the background. “Danke, Herr Forehead.”

Across the table, Phoenix gave Edgeworth a appraising look. “I think you have syrup on your cheek, too, Miles,” he chimed in, already reaching over.

Edgeworth pushed Phoenix’s face away. “Don’t even start,” he grumbled.

Phoenix looked momentarily dejected, before getting distracted by waffles. Trucy snickered, while Apollo unnoticeably reached over to take Klavier’s hand. He laced their fingers together and hid them beneath the table. Klavier smiled sheepishly each time Apollo gave him a squeeze.

When they’d finished, Phoenix and Trucy set to work cleaning the dishes as Apollo and Klavier prepared to leave.

Apollo rose from his seat, stretching out his arms. “Thanks for having us over, Mr. Wright,” he said.

Phoenix glanced over his shoulder, giving him a curt nod. “Always a pleasure, Apollo.”

Apollo looked down at Klavier, offering his hand. “I think it’s about time we head home. Need to take Vongole for a walk,” he announced.

Klavier took the proffered hand and climbed to his feet. Edgeworth gave them a quick nod. “Of course.”

Trucy looked back at them with a pout. “You’re leaving?” she whined.

“Ja, Trucy. But you’re always welcome to come visit,” Klavier assured her.

Beneath his words was the promise of reunion.

Apollo and Klavier headed for the door, Edgeworth following to see them out. Just as Klavier was about to step across the threshold, Edgeworth grabbed his sleeve. The older man slyly slipped a piece of paper into Klavier’s palm.

“This is the information for that doctor I mentioned,” he said under his breath. Apollo was standing by the car, watching Edgeworth and Klavier’s exchange anxiously. “They’re very good. You’re under no obligation to see them, of course, but I’d advise you to look into it.”

Edgeworth pulled his hand back and Klavier was free to close his fingers around what he’d been given. It was just a simple note, no bigger that a Post-It, yet it felt heavy in his hand.

Klavier gripped it tight, giving his boss a warm smile. “Danke. I will,” he promised.

Edgeworth nodded, satisfied. “Then goodbye, both of you,” he called out to Apollo, who waved back. “You’re free to come back any time you like.”

Klavier nodded, leaving to go stand at Apollo’s side. When Edgeworth shut the door, Apollo reached into his car and pulled out a pair of shoes. “Edgeworth told me you were barefoot, so I brought these,” he explained, dropping them at Klavier’s feet.

Klavier slipped them on. He was eternally grateful that he could count Apollo and Edgeworth among his friends. They were precious, and irreplaceable. He could search the world over and never find people like them. He showed his gratitude by leaning down to give Apollo’s cheek a gentle kiss. He was pleased to see Apollo’s cheeks flush.

He turned away, climbing into the car as Klavier followed. “Did you and Edgeworth have a good talk?” he asked nervously as Klavier strapped in.

“Ja, very good.”

“Good,” Apollo murmured, pulling out of the drive.

They barely made it a block before Klavier sat up in his seat, eyes going wide. “Apollo, stop the car,” he demanded.

Apollo was currently in the middle of the road. He shot Klavier a confused glance. “Why?” he asked loudly.

Klavier shook his head. “Just do it!” he exclaimed with excitement.

Apollo didn’t have the first clue as to what was going on, but they weren’t near any bridges so he pulled off to the side of the road. As soon as he stopped, Klavier was already tumbling out of the car.

“Klavier!” Apollo shouted after him, his hands fumbling with his seatbelt. “You’re still in pajamas!”

Klavier only jogged a few feet, before stopping and staring silently into the distance. Apollo followed, slower, watching Klavier’s face curiously. They were just outside People Park, and Klavier was gazing fondly towards the entrance with glassy eyes, as if he was reliving a good memory. Apollo followed his gaze, narrowing his eyes in an effort to figure out what Klavier was thinking.

Suddenly it hit him. “Oh.”

Klavier chuckled beside him, gently reaching over to hook their pinkies together. The touch was like a jolt running up his arm, leaving tremors in its wake. He welcomed it.

“This is where we met,” he said, nudging Apollo’s hand.

Apollo nodded, lacing their fingers together and leaning into Klavier’s shoulder. Klavier turned his face upwards, watching mockingbirds fly overhead as the sun beamed down. It was still early, and the air was cool and heavy, the grass wet with morning dew. The sky was the same blue as Klavier’s eyes. All was quiet, the roads still empty. For this one moment, Klavier and Apollo had it all to themselves.

“It’s a beautiful day, just like back then,” Klavier hummed.

He began walking forward, his baggy sweats dragging at his heels, growing wet from the grass. Apollo stayed in step, keeping his head against Klavier’s shoulder. Klavier came to a stop just inside the gate, eyeing the yellow flowers peeking out from the grass.

“The wildflowers are in bloom,” he noted.

Apollo glanced around at the near empty park, save for a person walking their dogs. “No noodle stand,” he noted.

Klavier laughed, giving Apollo’s hand a squeeze. “Nein. Maybe that’s a good thing.”

Apollo punched him gently. “Hey, if it wasn’t for that noodle stand, we never would have met,” he pointed out.

Klavier pursed his lips, looking back to the sky thoughtfully. “I don’t think that’s true.”

Apollo followed his gaze, watching the birds fly overhead. “No?”

Klavier shook his head. “I wanted to face off against the man who put Kristoph in jail, remember?” he admitted.

“I guess it’s a strange twist of fate that we ended up like this, huh?” Apollo joked.

Klavier didn’t laugh, just staring skyward for awhile. Apollo didn’t press him, his own eyes following the other park patron as they looped around the path on the far side. Silence descended over them, save for the musical chirps of birds in the trees.

There was a strange sense of nostalgia in being here again after so long. That day, Apollo had been in a foul mood, unemployed and going on a wild goose chase while a teenage magician followed him around. Not to mention getting hit with Snackoos and having to deal with Wright’s cryptic bullshit. When he’d met a Kristoph Gavin clone on a motorcycle, he’d thought he was having a strange fever dream caused by too much stress. He hadn’t imagined he was meeting his future boyfriend. He also hadn’t considered that the magician at his heels would become his sister, or Wright would adopt him into his clan.

That day had been the start of many things.

“So much has changed since then,” Klavier said, putting words to Apollo’s thoughts.

“Yeah,” Apollo murmured in agreement.

Klavier’s brow furrowed. “We’ve both lost so much. Daryan, Frau Courte, Kristoph….” His voice cracked at the end. “And you lost Clay.”

Apollo’s chest ached like his heart had been bound too tight. The wound was still fresh, healing, however slowly. Putting The Phantom behind bars had helped him find closure. But it would never bring Clay back. There would always be that gaping hole in his life that Clay had been meant to fill.

Apollo nuzzled his face into Klavier’s arm. “But I’ve gained a lot, too.”

Klavier squeezed his hand. “Ja, I know. You found a family,” he murmured, thinking of Wright, Trucy, Edgeworth, and Athena. “I… I lost my family. What little of it was left,” he croaked. Apollo opened his mouth to speak, but Klavier beat him to it. “But I think I found a better one.”

Apollo glanced up to see Klavier looking down at him, eyes glistening. “You did,” Apollo agreed. “We did,” he corrected.

Klavier averted his gaze, pointedly look back at the sky. His eyes stung, and as much as he tried to fight it, a tear slid from the corner of his eye. “It’s beautiful,” he murmured. “I nearly missed it.”

Apollo’s hand tightened painfully, and Klavier quickly added, “I’m glad I didn’t.”

“Me, too,” Apollo sniffed.

Klavier thought of the previous night, when he had teetered on the edge and chosen life. He had chosen this, even when he wasn’t thinking correctly. He thanked himself for that choice.

“I want to keep living,” he said quietly. “I want to keep seeing days like this one.”

Apollo shook at his side, and Klavier could feel a wetness gathering on his arm.

“I think I understand now,” Klavier said quietly. “I’m still not ‘good’ and the road to get there isn’t going to be easy. But I want it, mein Gott, do I want it. I want to see Trucy graduate, I want to see the Jurist system implemented, and…” He paused, looking to Apollo who was still pressed tightly against his arm. “I think I’d like to marry you, one day.”

Despite standing still, Apollo felt as if he was going to trip over his own feet. But Klavier continued. “And I can’t do any of that if I’m not here.”

Apollo finally pulled away, leaving a wet patch on Klavier’s arm. “I want you here for all of that, too,” he croaked, eyes rimmed red.

Klavier leaned down to press his nose into Apollo’s hair, breathing in Apollo mixed with the wildflowers and the heavy morning air. It was as perfect as he could have hoped.

“It still hurts,” he said quietly. “Gott, does it hurt. I still feel guilty and inadequate, no matter how much I know I shouldn’t.” He pulled back, looking to the sky once more. “But I think this is worth it. Living here with you is worth it.”

Apollo reached up placing a hand on Klavier’s cheek to turn his head. Their eyes met, and Apollo’s shone with tears, but all of that was overshadowed by the smile on his lips. It shone brighter than the sun, his eyes and cheeks red as he pulled Klavier down for a kiss. It was passionate, Apollo rushed to remember how Klavier felt, drinking him in like it was the first time. Their teeth clacked together, but Klavier didn't mind; in that moment, he was too caught up in loving Apollo. Klavier loved him so much, it was vast like the ocean, so powerful and infinite that it was never meant to be contained in this frail, human body. He loved Apollo, Athena, Edgeworth, and the Wrights and for once he let himself feel it. He was euphoric, alive, and so hopelessly in love with his family and the life he'd been granted. He could live for that, he could live for this.

When they broke apart, Apollo stayed close, close enough that their lips brushed when he spoke. “Living is all I could ever ask of you,” he whispered.

Klavier wrapped his arms around Apollo’s back, digging his nails in and holding tight. “Good, because I’m not going to stop.”

Chapter Text

Klavier was back in the office the next morning. He swiftly strode across the lobby to the elevators, keeping his head down and sunglasses on. His goal was to make it to his office without being seen. Failing that, he hoped to at least make it without speaking to anyone. He was eager to get back to work, but he was dreading the series of awkward conversations that would follow.

He got into the elevator without an issue, and he was thankful to find it empty. Halfway up the building, his phone buzzed in his pocket. He glanced at it, seeing it lit up with a message from Apollo. 

>Did you make it? Is everything going okay?

Klavier chuckled to himself. He could imagine the amount of fretting Apollo was doing over just a couple sentences. Apollo wasn’t exactly pleased with Klavier’s decision to go back to work, though he was supportive nonetheless. Apollo had asked if Klavier wanted to take another day, but Klavier refused. He could tell Apollo was anxious, but he hadn’t pressed the issue.

Klavier typed out a quick response. 

<i’ve barely gotten in the door but ja, so far so good

It was barely a second before Klavier’s phone buzzed with a response. 

>ok. Let me know if anything goes wrong.

<ja ;)

He could feel Apollo’s exasperated sigh from across the city. 

>Meet up for lunch?

<of course

Klavier thought that was the end of that conversation. He was proven wrong when he stepped off on his floor. 

>Love you, have a good day.

Klavier smiled to himself.

<you too schatzi <3

Klavier finally made it to his office, having managed to avoid unwanted social interaction. He opened his door, anxious to return to his safe haven. It swung open with a loud creak, protesting at having been out of use for so long. Klavier winced at the sound, and begun to step through the open doorway.

He barely made a full step before stopping in his tracks.

Where his desk used to be was a veritable mountain of gifts, spilling out onto the floor and crawling up his chair. Trying to even enter his office was going to be a struggle, as packages of all shapes and sizes were laid out like a minefield. He could identify a dark leather bullwhip hanging over the back of his chair, a giant stuffed bear standing on its hind legs in the back corner, and at least a couple dozen fruit baskets.

He was still staring in horrified awe when a series of footsteps approached from down the hall.

“Ah, Prosecutor Gavin,” Edgeworth greeted. “It’s good to have you back.” He said it like Klavier hadn’t been at his house the previous morning.

Klavier glanced at his boss before looking back to his cluttered office. “Who did all this?” he asked, gesturing at the sight before him.

Edgeworth glanced into the office as if he was unaware, though the pleased smirk on his lips gave him away. “Hm, everyone?” he suggested.

Klavier huffed, running a hand through his hair. “Ja, I can see that,” he grumbled, overwhelmed by the sheer amount of gifts laid out before him.

“I believe people sent you cards as well,” Edgeworth said, leaning into the office to get a better look. “Ah yes, there.” He pointed at a box by the door that Klavier now noted was overflowing with white envelopes.

“Scheiße.”

Edgeworth laughed to himself. “It seems you have some work to do.”

Klavier pinched the bridge of his nose. “How am I supposed to get any work done with this mess?” he wondered aloud.

Edgeworth gave him a dry look. “You say that as if your office is clean under normal circumstances.”

“Herr Edgeworth, I can’t see my desk.”

Edgeworth just hummed in agreement, staring at Klavier’s office with thinly veiled amusement. Klavier sighed, “I don’t mean to say I’m not grateful, I am. But I never would have expected…” He trailed off before gesturing again at the office. “This.”

Edgeworth didn’t even try to hide his amusement now. “Then it seems you underestimated how popular you are.”

Klavier sighed his shoulders relaxing as he allowed a small smile to tug at his lips. “Ja, I suppose I have,” he agreed. “Then, pray tell, which of these offerings is yours?”

Edgeworth’s lips remained firmly sealed. Klavier took the opportunity to glance around his office, inspecting the plethora of packages piled on his desk. His eyes caught something very flashy and brightly colored.

“It’s that Steel Samurai box set isn’t it?” he teased.

Edgeworth just huffed and walked away, throwing an order to get to work over his shoulder. Klavier took that to mean he was right. When his boss disappeared from sight, Klavier rolled up his sleeves and set to work clearing off at least part of his desk so he could actually work.

The bullwhip was from Franziska and Adrian, to “punish the foolish fools who foolishly drove him to such a foolish act.” The bear turned out to be from Gumshoe, who said it had been clogging up the evidence room and not to tell anyone. Klavier shook his head at the old detective. A milk carton full of grape juice sat on his chair, with a note from Trucy offering to teach him one of her card tricks. Ema had given him a series of supplements and a list of foods “scientifically” proven to help depression.

Klavier managed to clear off his chair and roughly a quarter of his desk when he called it quits. He’d piled everything in a corner near the door so it wasn’t exactly clean. But it was manageable. He wiped off his brow and was ready to sit down when the door swung open.

In his doorway stood Ema, her hands on her hips as she glared daggers at him. He noted that her labcoat looked a little worse for wear than he remember, sporting new tears along the arms and what suspiciously resembled some of Taka’s feathers stuck to the fabric.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were here?” she asked accusingly.

“I haven’t been here that long, Fräulein Skye,” he said, trying not to laugh at her frazzled appearance.

She threw up her hands in exasperation. “Well, while you were here, I’ve been chasing down Blackquill’s pigeon all morning, because someone didn’t have the decency to tell me they were back in the office,” she scoffed.

Before Klavier could respond, she held up her hand. “Wait right here, I’m going up to Edgeworth and getting reassigned right now, immediately, if I never have to see a bird again it’ll be too soon.”

With that she turned on her heel and stormed up to the Chief Prosecutor’s office. Klavier was left chuckled to himself fondly, thankful that some things would never change.

It took him three weeks to move all the gifts out of his office. (Except the bear, it wouldn’t fit through the door, leaving Klavier to wonder how Gumshoe got it in in the first place).

Less than a week after his surprisingly uneventful return to the Prosecutor’s Office, he sat in an office lit with warm light while a white noise machine whirred in the background. Athena sat next to him, clasping his hand tightly as he nervously fiddled with his rings. She’d insisted on coming with him to make sure this doctor was as good as Edgeworth claimed. Klavier allowed it because he trusted Athena’s judgment. And secretly, he needed the support.

As he waited, his mind filled with the fear that he would be labeled a whiny rockstar who had no right to complain. It was one thing to share his insecurities with a good friend, it was completely different to tell his life story to a stranger.

He was called into the office, talked about his life story and what had brought him to seek therapy. An hour later, he walked out with Athena’s approval and a referral for a psychiatrist. He didn’t quite understand why he had to go to two different doctors for therapy and medication. But he bore through the process of calling and making an appointment.

They started him on Zoloft, and when he set the bright orange pill bottle on his bedside table, it felt like admitting defeat.

“How’d it go?” Apollo asked him.

Klavier frowned, shaking the bottle and let the pills rattle around inside. “I have to take one of these everyday,” he said gruffly.

Apollo nodded, skimming over the drug information sheet the pharmacist had given them. Klavier spoke again, “It might take six weeks to know if it’s working.”

Apollo frowned, his eyes swimming with all the possible side effects. “Well, I’m sure it will,” he murmured hopefully.

Klavier didn’t say anything in response, shaking the bottle again. It was going to be a trying six weeks.

Three weeks in, Klavier sat at his desk in his study, peering at the screen of the computer in front of him. He’d ended up perusing through his case files in the dead of night. The rest of the world was asleep, silent as Klavier read and reread the file for his case tomorrow. The door creaked open, revealing Apollo standing in the doorway, blinking blearily at his boyfriend.

“What are you doing up?” he asked groggily.

Apollo had been asleep when Klavier had given up on getting rest and gotten out of bed. It had been a few hours since then, and Klavier wondered when Apollo had realized the bed was empty.

“Can’t sleep,” he grumbled in reply.

The light level was low enough that Klavier couldn’t make out Apollo’s face. But he could feel the displeased frown. He chose not to meet Apollo’s eyes.

“Maybe you should try again?” Apollo suggested with a yawn.

Klavier clenched his fists, irritation flaring up. “I did try,” he snapped viciously. “And it didn’t work, so I may as well get something done, ja?”

Apollo didn’t react to Klavier’s anger, save for a weary sigh. “Klavier, this is the third time this week. You have court tomorrow,” he pointed out gently. “You need rest.”

There was a brief moment where Klavier nearly chucked his computer at Apollo’s head. But he grit his teeth until the urge subsided. “You think I don’t want to rest? I’d give anything for some verdammt sleep. But. I. Can’t.”

Apollo frowned, and Klavier knew there was a rebuttal on the tip of his tongue. But he swallowed it, and instead stepped into his study. He pulled up a chair next to Klavier and sat down.

“Alright then,” Apollo said calmly. “Why don’t you tell me about your case?” he suggested.

Klavier cursed his boyfriend for being so perfect. But he did as suggested, until the sun rose on another day and Klavier was off to court while Apollo went to the Wright Anything Agency. The result was that both of them looked like walking zombies, but at least Klavier wasn’t alone.

It was Klavier’s first time appearing in court since his return. He had been eager to impress and show that he was still the same prosecutor he’d been before he tried to kill himself. Unfortunately, when he stood at the bench, he felt like he was trying to move through molasses, and his head swam whenever someone opened their mouth.

Through the first half of the trial, Klavier fought an uphill battle to present as “normal.” His head ached and he felt ready to pass out at any moment. He tried not to notice the concerned glances from audience members at his lack of sass and air guitar riffs.

Halfway through, Klavier was gripping the bench to keep himself on his feet, the world spinning out of control around him. The courtroom fell silent, and it took a good minute to realize everyone’s eyes were on him.

“Hä?”

The defense attorney across from him wore a smug smile. “I said ‘objection.’ Do you not have a rebuttal for the contradiction in the witness’s testimony?” they gloated.

Klavier wracked his brain. For the life of him he couldn’t remember what the witness had just said. Hell, he couldn’t even remember who was on the stand. A quick glance told him it was Ema, shooting him a strange look. Klavier dug his fingers into the bench as his face heated up. He couldn’t even remember what had been said, much less point out a contradiction! He was done for…

Thankfully, Ema swooped in, claiming that further analysis of the evidence was needed. She managed to weasel a recess out of the judge.

“Alright, I’m calling a thirty minute recess for the prosecution to get themselves together,” the judge said with a mild air of annoyance.

The defense attorney just chuckled. “It looks like you’re all washed up, Prosecutor Gavin.”

Klavier was going to kill him. He was already imagining punching that smarmy grin off the man’s face when a hand on his shoulder pulled him back. “Let’s discuss the details of this case, Gavin,” Edgeworth said sharply into his ear.

Klavier grinded his teeth together, glaring daggers at the other attorney as Edgeworth practically dragged him out of the courtroom. The door closed behind them before Edgeworth let go. Klavier wilted in front of his boss, fisting his hands in his hair.

“Scheiße, Herr Edgeworth, I made a fool of myself,” he groaned, face still hot.

“It’s alright,” Edgeworth said flatly. “I’m going to take over from here.”

Klavier closed his eyes, feeling his gut twist. “I’m so sorry, Herr Edgeworth—”

Edgeworth raised an eyebrow. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

Klavier shook his head. “I couldn’t focus, if I’d been trying harder—”

“Klavier, you’re sweating.”

Klavier paused, feeling his face with his hands and noting that, yes, his forehead was covered in a cold sweat. He shivered.

Edgeworth sighed. “Gavin, I know you want to get back into the courtroom, and I promise, one day you will. But right now you’re in no state to be there.”

Klavier bit the inside of his cheek, drawing blood. “But—”

“Would you expect someone else who was sweating, having tremors, and clearly about the faint to stand trial?” Edgeworth challenged.

Klavier held his breath for a moment, before releasing it as a sigh, shaking his head. “Nein.”

“As I told you before: give it time,” Edgeworth said. “It’s only been three weeks. You can still work outside the courtroom until you’re ready.”

“That defense attorney thinks I’m useless,” Klavier muttered.

“He’s an asshole.” Klavier had to fight back a laugh at hearing that come out of his boss’s mouth. “And don’t worry, he’ll get what’s coming to him.”

Klavier sighed reluctantly, giving Edgeworth a nod to know he understood. As Edgeworth took his place in the courtroom, Klavier headed home. Hours later, Apollo found him curled up on the couch, staring at a blank TV.

“I heard what happened,” Apollo said quietly, taking a seat beside Klavier.

Klavier buried his head in Apollo’s lap. “I made a fool of myself,” he whined.

Apollo gently stroked his hair. “Not as big a fool as Edgeworth made of that defense attorney,” he assured.

Klavier chuckled slightly, the noise muffled in Apollo’s lap. He continued. “Edgeworth made him cry, so don’t worry, no one’s even talking about you.”

Klavier nuzzled closer. “Good.”

A moment passed, where Apollo gently massaged his fingers into Klavier’s scalp, earning a contented hum. “It’s the medicine, isn’t it?” Apollo guessed.

“Ja,” Klavier murmured.

Apollo let out a sigh. “Do you think you need to get off it?” he asked.

Klavier squeezed his eyes shut. He’d been avoiding that possibility. “I don’t want to,” he whimpered.

Apollo continued to stroke Klavier’s hair, ignoring the sweat that beaded on his boyfriend’s forehead. “Is it helping?”

Klavier remained silent. The answer was a decisive “no,” but Klavier didn’t want to admit that. Apollo sighed, “Then I think you should try a new one.”

Behind Klavier’s closed eyes, tears began to form. “I don’t want to start over.”

Apollo’s heart broke at the defeated sound in Klavier’s voice. “I know, babe,” he murmured. “But if this one is just making things worse, you shouldn’t stay on it.”

Klavier sniffled in his lap, remaining silent. Apollo added, “You don’t have to take medicine at all, if you don’t want.”

Klavier didn’t know. “I feel weak,” he admitted. “I should be able to fix myself without relying on pills.”

Apollo sighed. “It doesn’t make you weak. You’re not relying on them, they’re just there to help.” He swallowed, unsure how to phrase what came next. “If you don’t want to take pills, that’s your choice, but you shouldn’t do it because you think it makes you weak or something, because that’s not true.”

Klavier knew that Apollo was right, he just needed to convince himself. He sat up, pulling his head from Apollo’s lap. “I’ll make another appointment,” he said.

Apollo gave him a reassuring smile and kissed his cheek.

This time they put him on Lexapro. It made things easier, he noticed. The nausea and restlessness were still there, but much less intense. And after a few weeks, they faded away. He couldn’t be sure if he actually felt better, but he didn’t feel worse.

Happiness snuck back into his life slowly, and the realization struck him out of the blue. He’d finally managed to reorganize his desk, and his office was back to the way it once was (save for the bear in the corner). Klavier read over a case file he was considering taking on. It had been about a month since his last aborted trial, and without the constant dizziness and insomnia, he felt more prepared to stand in court.

As he thought over the evidence, he idly pulled an acoustic guitar from the stand near his desk. He sat it in his lap and began strumming, humming out a tune as he reread the case file. It was something he used to do whenever he decided to review a case. Playing helped him think, and it busied his hands while his mind worked. He occasionally stumbled upon a catchy melody this way, and thus some of his greatest hits were born.

Trucy popped her head into his office. “You’re playing again!” she said delightedly.

Klavier’s hands stopped and he glanced down. It had happened so automatically that he’d barely even realized it himself. It had been a long time since he’d played. Ever since Kristoph’s execution, he hadn’t had the energy. It brought back too many sour memories.

Klavier’s face broke out into a smile. “Ja, I am.” He looked to Trucy. “And what brings you all the way up here?”

Trucy bounced through his door. “I was running an errand for Daddy and Polly wanted me to bring you over for lunch,” she explained.

Klavier nodded setting his guitar back on the stand. “Of course.”

Trucy eyed the guitar curiously. “Writing any new songs?” she asked.

Klavier hummed noncommittally as he led her out of the office. “Maybe.”

Trucy fumed as she followed him. The whole way to Eldoon’s, she tugged on his sleeve and begged him to tell her what he was writing. He just laughed, and when he saw Apollo and Athena waiting for them, his heart swelled against his ribs. He was happy to have lived long enough to feel it.

He was happy to have lived.

(Klavier did end up taking that case, and he faced off against Apollo. He won.) 

The question, O me! so sad, recurring—What good amid these, O me, O life?

                                      Answer.

That you are here—that life exists and identity,

That the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse.

                                                                                            -Walt Whitman