"Apollo Justice speaking, how may I help you?"
"Mr. Justice? You're an acquaintance of Mr. Clay Terran, correct?"
"I'm his best friend; has something happened?"
"That's actually why I called... I'm afraid that Mr. Terran, well..."
" 'Well'?"
"He... He has passed on, Mr. Justice. He was killed in the Space Center earlier this morning. I'm sorry."
That scene passed through Apollo Justice's head, over and over and over again as he fixed his tie, buttoned up his suit and did up his hair, all completely without emotion and without much effort - he would make himself look presentable to everybody else, but inside, he would never be the same...
He would never be fine again...
"Apollo?"
Trucy Wright stood in the doorway of the defense attorney's apartment. She, too, was dressed in black, her magician's outfit long forgotten in the turmoil of the last few days. She had been there when Apollo had received The Call, been there to see him break down for the first time ever - or rather, lack of. He hadn't said a word, simply put down the phone and lay completely still on the couch, staring off into space.
"Polly?"
She had asked, staring over at him with a confused gaze,
"Polly, what's wrong?"
She wasn't receiving any answer, and he could tell she was concerned about that, as he could see her worried face out of the corner of his eye,
"Hey, Polly, c'mon, say something... Polly? Polly!"
He wasn't in much of a better state now, to be honest, but he had improved - it had taken him days to get out of his zombie-like stupor; he hadn't eaten, hadn't slept, heck, he hadn't really done anything.
Perhaps that was why everybody still cast concerned gazes toward him, even as he stepped out of his apartment and even in the church, which was ten minutes away. Detective Skye, Athena Cykes, Phoenix Wright and even Prosecutor Gavin were all there, dressed accordingly. It was strange, to see even the infamous Klavier Gavin dressed in such dark clothing. Then again, perhaps the prosecutor was thinking the same about Apollo - the black tie, white shirt and black coat and pants, his hair gelled to perfection, but even so, it didn't mean anything - it had all been done because that was the way; no other reason.
The priest eventually took over the funeral, coughing somewhat sadly as he trudged up to the altar; on the opposite aisle to himself and the Wrights, Apollo could see Clay's father - he had always been a bright man; Clay was almost like a copy of him. Strong, bright, had also been quite approving of their friendship, even bringing them to the Space Center or the observatory on his days off. Knowing the other boy was an orphan, he would often offer for him to stay the night, to save him the trip back to the orphanage, and, perhaps, because he had seen him as another son.
Apollo just wished he hadn't had to lose his real son the way he had...
"We stand here today to mourn the death of one Mr. Clay Terran..."
"Apollo?"
Trucy's voice snapped Apollo back to a somewhat sensible state, and he blinked, taking in the girl's face in front of him. He had blocked out the funeral, it seemed, and they were now the only ones left in the Church - him, her, Mr. Wright, Athena Cykes, Prosecutor Gavin, and Ema Skye.
"They... They're all going to the graveyard now, Apollo,"
Trucy choked out, her black dress swaying at her knees, her hair tied up beatifully in a black hair-tie, done by Athena that morning,
"So we're going to go on ahead - are you coming with us?"
Apollo shook his head, and could immediately feel the concerned gazes on him once more. Trucy said no more, simply wrapped her arms around him in a short embrace before leaving, a pat on the shoulder from Mr. Wright following shortly after before he, too, left. Athena said nothing, trying to choke back her own tears, dashing out of the Church with Ema following after her; to console her, Apollo assumed. Athena had known Clay from before; she had often seen him at the Space Center, she had once told him, when he was training and she used to visit. He had become good friends with her, too...
"...Herr Forehead."
Prosecutor Gavin's voice sounded raw, or perhaps that was a misconception on Apollo's part, but the blue eyes that met his own hazel were sharp and somewhat cold. He couldn't help but notice just how much Klavier resembled him in this moment - he had gone through the same kind of torture with Kristoph, if not worse; he had been his own brother. He finally saw the pain in the prosecutor's eyes, the flickering emotions he hadn't earlier been able to connect to; but now, he understood completely.
"You need to pick up the broken pieces of yourself, Herr Forehead,"
Klavier sighed, brushing a hand through his hair before placing his hands on the brunette's shoulders,
"Don't leave everyone else to pick them up for you, ja?"
"I... I d-don't know what you're t-talking about, Prosecutor G-Gavin."
Even Apollo could tell that his voice was cracking and shaking; he knew that if he spoke much more, he would collapse into tears, right there in the Church, even if Prosecutor Gavin was there to see.
"Don't lie to me, Herr Forehead,"
Klavier's voice was icy and cold, stern and scolding, but at the same time, it was sad, so sad, and understanding...
"Those pieces of you, they're like a mirror; if you leave them there, shattered, they'll only hurt other people. Do you want that to happen?"
"O-Of course not!"
The defense attorney retorted, his hands balling into fists at his sides; who was he to tell him things like this..?! Even if he did understand, he didn't really understand...!
"I-!"
"You're 'trying', right?"
The blonde's voice was almost mocking now as he rolled his eyes,
"Trying isn't good enough, Herr Forehead - you need to do it. Otherwise, the people around you-"
"I get it!"
Apollo's voice resounded throughout the Church, the loudest thing the place had ever heard,
"I get it already...! I... I can't... I can't, alright?!"
He laughed, almost manic now, staring his rival in the eye,
"I'm not that strong! I can't pick up my own pieces, and you know why? Because I'm not fine! Not anymore!"
The grip on his shoulders was released almost instantly, but the strong gaze was still there - stronger than before, if it wasn't his imagination playing tricks on him; that wouldn't be surprising, at this point...
He could feel it, though. The emotions he had tried so hard to keep at bay, the ones telling him to give up and just cry... they were all finding their way to the surface, water pricking at his eyes.
"You're 'not fine'? Well, neither are the rest of us."
Klavier spoke with a sigh, and Apollo noticed for the first time how tired he looked; small bags under his eyes, limp shoulders, his posture looser than usual.
"Some of us knew Clay before, Apollo; Athena did, and his parents did, and so did you - the rest of us only know what you've told us. But even still, we've connected to him a bit through that. At least,"
His voice was slightly stiff, and he, too, sounded like he was going to crack if he spoke much more, turning to meet the defense attorney's gaze once more,
"That's what I think, Herr Forehead."
The water was welling up even more than before, Apollo's heart clenching in his chest as he tried to keep his composure - what was left of it - but it was useless, as his shoulders began to shake.
"I... I-"
"I'm not going to ask you to let him go, Apollo,"
Klavier interrupted, his eyes fierce with determination and, perhaps, true caring,
"That's impossible; even I haven't truly let Kristoph go - I wouldn't expect you to let Clay, who you were obviously closer to than Kristoph and I ever were, go, either. So just... get yourself together, ja?"
Apollo hadn't realised it but, at some point, he had moved from his spot at his seat, and now stood in the middle of the aisle of the Church. The crucifix hovered above him, the altar bright and white and beautiful, but Apollo's gaze was too hazy to notice;
He couldn't stop it anymore, the tears that were flowing down his cheeks like rivers released from their dams - they wouldn't stop, no matter how much he tried, the muffled chokes and sobs escaping, too, echoing in the Church. His hands stood stiff, balled at his sides, before he lifted one to wipe away the tears from his eyes, a hand on his shoulder making him pause. He could barely make out Klavier's frame against the tears, but he could feel his arms as they wrapped around his back, soothing and warm.
"I..."
He choked out, his voice cracking and wobbly,
"I can't let him go... I-I can never do t-that... b-but... I-I can try and get on with my life... I-I can try to be f-fine again..."
"That's all I needed to hear."
Now even Klavier's voice was soft, and Apollo could feel the movement of his Adam's Apple as he swallowed, the brunette's head in the crook of his neck as he cried; he didn't care if he cried, anymore, even if it was in front of Klavier, his rival, his friend; he needed to let the tears go, at least.
He had been in such a zombie-like stupor for the last few days, he hadn't had time to cry - between consolations from the Wrights and Athena, helping the Terran family to plan the funeral, and trying to compose himself for just this day, he hadn't had time to cry.
But, now, the tears seemed to be everflowing, as if they would never stop - he knew they would, eventually, as his eyes ran out of water to cry with, but he would never truly stop crying - the pain of losing Clay would always be too much for him. But he could, at least, try to move on, if for everybody else's sake rather than his own.
"See, Herr Forehead?"
Klavier chuckled, somewhat dry, the vibration audible to and felt by Apollo,
"You're already picking up the pieces - your tears are the first few."
Apollo had eventually stopped crying, although his jacket sleeve and Prosecutor Gavin's shirt were completely damp when he had. Neither stains were visible at the funeral as they were both carefully hid, but the lowering of the coffin had not gone ahead until they had arrived. Apollo felt bad for that, but at the same time, he was grateful that they had waited for him.
Trucy held the bouquet Apollo had put together, to lay on the coffin as it was lowered, and she handed it to him as he arrived up at the top of the crowd. She wept into the black handkerchief her father had given her, leaning into Mr. Wright's side and receiving a pat on the shoulder and a consoling hug.
The bouquet contained an array of flowers, as nobody had been able to pin Clay down to one definition from flower meanings; white and yellow carnations, forget-me-nots, gardenias, gladioli, hyacinths and stargazers were wrapped in the coloured wrapping, along with some others. The priest, once more, coughed lightly as Klavier came forward, and opened his mouth to speak.
"Our Father, who art in Heaven, hallowed be thy Name..."
The casket had been dropped, flowers placed down in the Earth, too, and the soil had buried them both after what felt, to Apollo, like years. The rain slowly began to fall, touching his cheeks, his hair, anywhere they could. His face was already damp with water by the time an umbrella was placed above him and a hand on his shoulder. He hadn't glanced away from the soil and the plaque with Clay's name, the reality finally really hitting him;
Clay was dead.
"...Herr Forehead..."
Klavier was there, once again, to console him, to support him, which made the defense attorney wince; why hadn't he been there, to do the same, when Klavier had needed it?
"He... He was my best friend,"
He eventually choked out, feeling the tears come again, the clenching of his heart matching the sound of the pattering rain,
"A-And now... now he's..."
"I know, Herr Forehead,"
Klavier sighed, his arm stretching around Apollo's shoulders as he allowed the brunette to lean into him, casting his own gaze on the plaque of golden letters,
"I know."
So yeah, I HAD a plan for this fanfic; then, as Ace Attorney always does to me, that plan went on a loop-de-loop and turned into this... oops :L
But yeah, review and let me know what you guys think!
I tried to get some feels in there, but I'm not sure if I made anybody cry... xD
Oh well :L
Anyway, please review~