Chapter Text
Nai Saverem is in his office, an imposing tower in front of his desk, arms crossed over his chest and face as impassive as ever. He's looking right over Roberto's shoulder at the dying potted plant in the corner. His eyebrows furrow slightly.
Roberto grumbles and leans back in his chair, the squeak it emits makes Saverem's shoulders tense. Best to make this brat regret showing his face around De Niro and Co. again. "To what do I owe the pleasure of 'Legendary Attorney Knives Saverem's' company this fine day? What can this 'drunk, parasitic condemnation of the Bar' do for you?"
Now he's frowning proper like.
“It’s about a case,” Saverem says, like it hurts him. He’s still not looking at Roberto. The plant must be looking pretty bad.
The idea Saverem would come to him for advice about anything, let alone a case, was laughable. He would never drag himself to Roberto’s level without good reason. It must be something else then. “Surely whatever it is you can handle it on your own.”
“In any other circumstance I certainly could. I wouldn’t be here unless it were absolutely necessary.” His icy blue eyes finally shift to Roberto’s face, though he’s found a way to not quite meet his gaze. In any other situation, the man would be smirking, preening in his superiority. Now he just looks viciously uncomfortable, staring at the spot between Roberto’s eyebrows. “It’s about my brother.”
—
There’s a file lying open on his desk, the image of a goofy looking blonde man wearing strange, orange sunglasses with circular lenses smiling blindingly up at him from the first page. Next to that is a mugshot of the same goof, now sans glasses. He is clearly trying to relax his face for the mugshot, but is failing miserably, still sporting a sheepish grin. Looks like he’d be nervously rubbing the back of his neck if he weren’t holding up a placecard. This kid’s trouble.
“Let me get this straight. You want me to defend your brother, who is going on trial for murder tomorrow . Your brother, who was there at the scene, has no alibi, and has a probable motive for offing this poor bastard?” After hearing Saverem’s explanation of the case and sifting through the file he’d provided, Roberto is thinking it’s finally a good time to retire.
The brat huffs. “‘Poor bastard’ is arguable, the man was a waste of oxygen.” Saverem hasn’t taken a seat for a single moment he’s spent in his office, despite the very comfortable leather chair sitting empty to his side. He prefers to tower imposingly-if not somewhat awkwardly-over his desk while they talk, Roberto supposes. A perfectly annoying brick wall. Arrogant as ever, even when asking a favor. His arms remain crossed, but one of his gloved fingers has started tapping out a beat on his bicep. He might have been pacing the room if he’d let himself.
Saverem turns his head towards the window and inhales deeply. It's early in the day, and the bright light streaming through the glass makes his blonde hair appear almost white. Though he and his brother look incredibly similar-could be twins, honestly-they differ slightly in their coloring. The man in the photo seems…warmer than his brother all around, though that could be wishful thinking. Roberto doesn't even want to consider dealing with a second Knives. Saverem squints at something out on the street below them. “That man's questionable worth to society aside, my brother is innocent. He could never do something like this, would sooner die himself than end someone else’s life.”
Roberto leans back in his chair again. Squeak . Saverem’s eye twitches. Roberto grins. “Guilty or not, like hell I’d do this for you, kid. There’s dozens of other attorneys out there, find one.”
He turns back towards the desk, tapping finger now a fist clutching the sleeve of his jacket in a painfully tight grip. “I’m sure we can come to some sort of agreement. I can make this worth your while. Just tell me how much-”
“No can do. Take your file and get out of here. You've got some gall showing up here in the first place, let alone asking me to help you out of a pinch.” He pushes his chair back and stands up, ready to escort the kid out himself if he has to. The chair lets out one final creak as he does and Saverem flinches at the sound. Only barely, a tiny flicker of a movement, but Roberto catches it regardless. Roberto closes the file and rounds his desk to stand beside the man, holding it out for him to take. Saverem doesn’t.
Instead he drops his arms to his sides and his sharp gaze finally meets Roberto’s own. Deadly sincere, he says, “No other attorney will work with my brother. I need your help.”
—
At least meet with my brother before you decide. That’s all I ask.
Well, here he is, back at the detention center at the request of one Nai Saverem.
“We can’t just leave his poor brother alone like that! If he’s really innocent, it’s up to us to help him! Let’s at least give him a chance.”
Damn newbie and her convincingly heartfelt speeches.
"We're here to see Vash Saverem," he says to the man at the desk as they approach.
"You the lucky customer that's representing the Stampede this time?" He takes Roberto’s ID and passes them the sign in sheet. "Tough break."
"That remains to be seen," Roberto murmurs gruffly, handing the clipboard down to Meryl. She's so painfully short that her head barely reaches the counter. The receptionist wishes them luck as they walk the familiar path towards the visitor’s room. “Looks like our luck’s gone from bad to worse, newbie.”
“What did he mean by all that? ‘The Stampede’…’this time’, it sounds like Vash has been here before.” Meryl already has her notebook out, diligently taking notes even before they meet the accused.
“I knew this kid would be trouble-relation to Knives aside-but I didn’t think our guy would be the Vash the Stampede.” This would complicate things. He’s dying for a smoke right about now. His fingers twitch towards his breast pocket.
“Don’t even think about smoking in the detention center!” The tiny terror could see straight through him. Scary. “What’s with the silly nickname? He’s just a guy, not some sort of cartoon outlaw.” They’ve stopped just short of the door to the visitor’s room.
“The kid has a reputation for causing trouble. He’s been arrested dozens of times-no, I don’t know exactly how many so don’t ask-” Meryl shuts her open mouth, pouting, “but he hasn’t been found guilty a single time. Homicide, grand larceny, trafficking, abduction. He’s always found innocent, always gets off scot-free. Kid should consider moving in since he's in here so damn much."
“Can someone be arrested that many times and really be innocent? That feels unlikely.”
“We’re about to find out.” He opens the door.
On the other side of the glass partition, another door opens.
"Thanks for the escort Tony! Hey, think you could score one of those donuts from the break room for me before the party? You'd really be saving my life!" A beat. "Aw man, you're the best!" Vash Saverem finally enters the room. His back is to them, facing the open doorway. “I’ll catch you later, man!” He stops to give a mock salute towards the guard-Tony apparently-who is standing with an eyebrow raised and arms crossed. "I mean, uh- I'll be on my best behavior sir Tony sir!" Tony rolls his eyes, but there’s no hostility in the action. Vash closes the door behind him as he leaves.
Vash Saverem is bright. The combination of blonde hair, red coat, and toothy smile are so blinding, Roberto can feel a migraine coming on just looking at the guy. He seems absolutely serene as they all wander over to the chairs in front of the glass partition, right at home as he takes a seat. Odd considering the setting but less surprising considering how much time he's likely spent in this very room, talking to people just like them. Though his demeanor reads calm, his subtle bounce in the cheap plastic chair implies that he's jiggling his leg under the desk, blocked from view.
He gives a jaunty wave towards them. "Hiya pops, little lady!" Meryl's frown is an oppressive, physical presence beside him. Vash lets out a nervous chuckle, hands raised in a placating gesture. Like his brother often does, he's wearing gloves, though a few fingers on his right hand are bare."I mean uh-miss! Anyhoo, what can I help you two with?"
Roberto pulls out his badge, flashing it to their potential client. "Name’s Roberto De Niro, this here's Meryl Stryfe. We're here to discuss your case and the possibility of representing you in court tomorrow."
Vash hums, considering. "I'm surprised! Was sure there weren't any attorneys left to go through at this point." He chuckles. "Did Nai send you?"
"That’s right, though to say he cut it close would be an understatement. To be completely honest, this whole things feels like a suicide mission for my office."
"Considering everything we know about the incident so far," Meryl cuts in, flipping through her notes, "the odds are really not in your favor. By all means we shouldn't be considering your case at all."
Vash sniffles, eyes wide and shining behind his orange lenses. An A+ kicked puppy look.
"Crying won't help your case", Meryl sighs. Vash pouts and turns off the water works instantly, called out and put out. Roberto holds back a laugh.
"Hear me out, okay? I didn’t kill Vick! He was alive when I left his place, I don’t even know how he died." He clasps his hands together, pleading. He's doing that thing with his eyes again. "Please don't leave me to the state appointed guy, I'll be a goner for real this time! Défunt, morte!"
What a ham. "Okay, slow your roll, kid. You say Vick was alive when you left his home. What were you doing at his place anyway? Tell us what you can remember."
Vash straightens up. "Yeah, alright. I can do that." His leg is bouncing again.
-What I remember-
"I'm not exactly sure what time I went over to Vick's place that night, but I think it was around 6pm since I went over after work. I- we - had recently broken up, see, and I had been staying there overnight for a while. I was going over to pick up my stuff-in and out real quick. I told him I was coming ahead of time, so it wasn't a surprise or anything." His brow is furrowed in concentration, gaze focused on the door behind Meryl and Roberto. He's fiddling with the braided bracelet on his left wrist, which, Roberto notes, is covered by a tight, black sleeve, twisting it between his fingers.
"So I knock on the door. He doesn't answer, but it's unlocked like usual so I just let myself in. Vick's passed out on the couch-asleep! Not dead, okay! Sleeping! So I go to get my things. At some point he wakes up, ‘cause on my way out he's sitting up and he sees me. He asks me to wait up, that he wants to talk." Vash frowns. "I indulge him and then I leave. That's all. The whole thing couldn't have taken more than ten minutes, tops."
-What I remember, End-
Well that was…brutally unhelpful. "And you didn't see anyone else while you were there? No one else hanging around the house?"
"Not that I noticed. The only person I saw beside Vick was the nice old lady next door. She was out in her garden when I arrived. She makes a mean apple pie, by the way!" Vash laughs. "Honestly, one of the best parts of dating Vick was her bringing us pies all the time. Seriously, you’ve gotta try one someday.” His stomach growls, somehow still audible through the glass. “Man, I could really use that donut right about now!" he chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. Roberto wonders how calculated the action is.
According to what little Roberto knows of the case, the neighbor was one of two witnesses that could place Vash at the scene, though she did not see him leave the house. The second witness Roberto was still mostly in the dark about, but he knew they would be their biggest obstacle…besides Vash himself that is. "How did you travel to Vick's house that night?"
"I walked. His place is really close to where I work." He watches as Meryl jots down the info in her notes. “Is it alright if I ask you a question?” Roberto gestures for him to go ahead. “How did Vick…y’know…how did he go?”
Vash could very well already know, but there was no harm in telling him either way. “Stabbed. Right through the heart.” Vash looks alarmed. He’s stopped bouncing.
Meryl pauses in her writing. “It was a pretty precise hit, and the knife was removed right away, so he passed within seconds…if that helps any.” A morbid consolation, but a consolation nonetheless. “Sorry.” Vash’s gaze has drifted down to the desk where his arms have come to rest. His bangs cover his eyes; make it difficult to see his expression. It’s creepy when he isn’t bouncing around like a maniac. Irritating as it is, stillness doesn’t exactly suit him. “Mr. Saverem, you mentioned that Vick wanted to talk before you left. Could you tell us more about what you discussed?” Vash remains silent, not acknowledging the question in any way. He just slumps forward a bit more towards the desk. Meryl looks to Roberto, questioning how to proceed.
To push or not to push? Vash is clearly hiding something, though he does seem genuinely upset to hear about the victim’s cause of death. It’s obvious that this conversation between Vash and his ex is key to the case, and so far they don’t have much in the way of a defense. Unfortunately, they need to know about this talk one way or another. “Did it have something to do with your break up? Maybe he was beggin’ you for another chance or something like that? That’s how these things tend to go, right?” Aaaaaand no dice, kid was straight up ignoring them now. Oh, this would kick them in the ass tomorrow, he can tell.
Time to switch it up then. They could still salvage this conversation. "Oi, kid. You have a concealed carry license?"
Vash perks up . "Huh? Yeah, sure I do."
"A gun? Really? That's a surprise!" Meryl turns to Roberto. "Wait, how'd you know?"
Roberto knew some stuff, she had no right looking so surprised about it. "You're looking at the international 3-Gun Shooting champion right here", he announces, with a sweeping motion towards Vash, "terror of the Outlaw Open division!"
Vash’s cheeks turn red following the surprise introduction. "It's not all that, really! But I do enjoy it. Lots of interesting characters on the competition circuit." He's opened back up a bit, smile back in place, albeit slightly dimmer.
"You carry when you're not competing then? How come?" Meryl asks.
Vash chuckles, hand back on his neck. It stays there this time. "Turns out when you get arrested as many times as I have you make some, uh, not friends?"
"Enemies." Roberto supplies.
"Not friends," Vash continues. His other hand joins his right on the back of his neck, cradling his head lazily. "Critics, I guess. Turns out they can get pretty scary! Less brave when they know I'm armed though." His gaze wanders to Meryl's face. She looks less than pleased. "Don't look at me like that! I've never had to shoot anyone, promise. It's more of a deterrent than a solution. I don't even need it to take care of trouble most of the time anyway, honest!"
That feels more like a threat than a reassurance. Meryl is smiling, but seems nervous now judging from the twitch at the corner of her lips. Vash stretches his arms up above his head-groaning as his back pops audibly-then settles back down, arms resting back on the desk. Roberto pretends not to notice Meryl flinching at the movement.
"Is this relevant to the case? I didn’t have my gun on me when I went to Vick's that night anyway."
"Not directly, but it struck me as something the prosecution might refer to tarnish your character." And something that would get Vash talking again. Not like the prosecution would need to go digging to find good material anyway.
"Oh yeah, the prosecutor!" Vash exclaims loudly, eyes bright. "He came by to see me the other day actually. Real nice guy. Have you met before?"
Kid was way too excited to talk about the man trying to get him convicted for murder. "Can't say that I have, considering I don't know who's prosecuting this case."
"He said his name was Wolfwood. Tall guy, wears sunglasses indoors, reaaaaaaal low-cut shirt. Definitely a smoker."
Damn. It's the Punisher.
"Damn," he says, "it's the Punisher."
Meryl holds her face in her hands as she whines a muffled and drawn out " noooooooo not him pleeease ".
"Uhhhh- well, it sounds like you guys are already acquainted then?”
Meryl is too busy mourning their dying chances to reply. "We're familiar. The less we say the better. Just know he has a win record that scares off most attorneys outright-"
"I don't think he's referred to me by my actual name even once! 'Shortie', 'assistant girl', 'little missy', it's exhausting!" Looks like little missy's recovered.
Vash winces. "That tracks. The first thing he said when we met was-and I'm not joking-" he tilts his glasses down to glance over the lenses at Meryl, pitching his voice in a sad imitation of the prosecutor's drawl, “‘Hey blondie, you come here often?' Which, yeah-I do, but that's not exactly a good thing! How do you even respond to that?"
Meryl snorts, doubling over in laughter. "Th- that was spot on," she says between wheezing breaths, "it's like he was really here for a moment."
Vash is laughing along now too, Meryl egging him on for further bad impressions. Do you think he's used that line at a funeral before? Meryl might be crying.
Roberto checks his watch. Visiting hours are nearly up, and there's something he's been wondering. It was already decided from the moment they first stepped into the detention center that they would be representing Vash in court tomorrow, but their client was keeping far too much from them for Roberto to feel optimistic about their odds.
"Mr. Saverem, we'd like to represent you at your trial tomorrow, if you'll have us. I just have one last question for you before we call it a night."
Vash looks thrilled, clasping his hands together in front of his chest. At some point he got his bounce back. "You mean it? Thank you! You're saving my life, really! I'll help however I can."
“Don’t thank me yet.” He doesn’t know how this will go, but this next bit will put things into perspective. “Tell me this. If you’re innocent, then who do you think could have killed Vick? I have a weird feeling you know something you’re not telling us.”
Vash’s face goes carefully blank, hands disappearing below the desk. He’s very still, just staring at him. At least- he thinks he’s staring. The light is reflecting off his sunglasses at just the right angle to make them appear opaque. Creepy. No outright denial, but no confirmation either. If anything this silence proves he’s right on the money.
He opens his mouth. Closes it. Opens it again. He’s started fiddling with that bracelet again. “I-”
But then the door behind Vash opens. They’re out of time. “Times up Stampede, visiting hours are over.”
Like a flip’s been switched, kid’s all smiles again. Turning towards the door, he says, “It’s time for Rosa’s surprise party, yeah? You remembered the cake?” He stands.
“Chocolate, right? Yeah, yeah I remembered. It’s waiting in the break room. Let’s get moving before we miss something. And don’t worry, I got your donut. Don’t say I never did anything for you!” The guard moves into the hallway, leaving the door open as he goes.
Vash looks back at them. “Thanks again you guys, I’ll see you tomorrow?” This, at least, seems sincere enough.
Roberto nods, standing himself, though with notably less grace. His back complains at the effort, cracking precariously. Damn plastic chairs. He’s getting too old for this.
Meryl follows. “We’ve got your back, okay? See you tomorrow.” Meryl was always the more reassuring one between them. With one last soft smile and a nod Vash is gone.
“Well shit,” Roberto articulates.
They leave.