SOMETIME LATE, POST-GAVINNERS CONCERT
Klavier and Daryan were the single men of the Gavinners. The others were all engaged with some Fraulein or another, leaving the two guitarists to enjoy the company of two lucky fans they allowed in their hotel room.
"Achtung, baby!" the tipsy Klavier hollered, at request of the brown haired Fraulein. She giggled endlessly at his various German phrases, swooning each time he called her Fraulein. Daryan, though without a foreign flair, had the ginger haired Layne giggling just as much.
"Fraulein," Klavier murmured, pressing his lips against "Call Me Genny"'s cheek. "You're enjoying your backstage passes, ja?"
"Oh, Klavier." Giggling, Genny slapped his chest. "You have no idea how happy we were when you called for us!"
"I think the screams gave us a pretty good idea," Daryan quipped.
Layne held up her hands in mock surrender. "Don't look at me," she murmured, her voice oddly quiet compared to the boys', "Genny's the one who started crying just about."
"Layne!"
"Well, it's true!"
Klavier wrapped an arm around Genny's shoulders, pulling her in close. "Frauleins, Frauleins, there's no fighting
here. We're having a good time, ja?"
"Ja!" the girls chirped. Things continued as they were, with the boys doing their best to woo the girls and the girls falling for every line and chaste kiss on the cheek.
Sometime between Klavier offering to play the Frauleins a song and Daryan turning down another beer, Klavier's phone rang.
"That better not be the wife calling," Genny teased. Klavier answered in the negatory (with a chuckle, showing how much he really, really liked her joke) and checked his phone. Puzzlement flashed in his eyes. The girls were highly oblivious. Daryan was the only one who regarded Klavier strangely when he excused himself to answer his phone, though Klavier merely went to the other end of the room, not that far away.
"Pros-"
The voice on the other end cut him off before he could finish with his title. Once the voice finished, he nodded. "Yes, this is he. Might I ask what this is about?"
An easy smile spread across Klavier's face. Daryan, again, was the only one to notice. Genny whined, "Don't leave me so alone, Klavier!" Klavier motioned for her to be quiet.
"My brother? What about him? What, did his case go terribly?"
He laughed. Another pause. Real concern broke through his smile-his eyes widened and he angled his body away from the others, wishing he had stepped out to answer the phone.
"Klavier!" Genny cried again, her voice reaching an incredibly annoying high pitched whine. Daryan shot her an unhidden glare. "Just hang up on them already, will you?"
"What do you mean he was-if this is some sort of prank, Herr Officer, I do believe it's in your best interests to drop it."
Genny opened her mouth to moan about how lonely she was, Daryan hopped to his feet to tell her to shove it where the sun don't shine, and Klavier beat them to the punch, exclaiming:
"What do you mean my brother is in jail?"
The girls gasped with shock. Klavier seemed to have forgotten they were there. No matter; Daryan grabbed each by the arm and hauled them out of the hotel room. "That's enough for you ladies," he hissed, closing the door and locking it. Klavier continued his conversation.
"He did what? Yes, I heard you. No, I-thank you, I appreciate your condolences."
Numbness bested him in the end. Klavier pressed "end call." He walked a few steps, stumbling-either from the liquor or shock, Daryan did not know-to the chair, which Daryan eased him into. "What the hell was that about?"
"Kristoph," Klavier murmured. "Kristoph was…" He furrowed his brow, as if struggling to comprehend what the kind Herr Officer told him. "He was arrested. For murder."
"Your brother, arrested?"
Klavier nodded. Although Daryan was standing by his side, Klavier's eyes were focused straight ahead, staring at no particular spot on the wall.
"Did they tell you the details?"
"No. Yes. Some, but-"
"Spit it out, Gavin. What did they tell you?"
Klavier put his head in his hands and took deep breaths. There was a pressure on his chest he didn't dare fight against. Instead, he kept his breathing slow, knowing hyperventilation would only lead to him face down on the floor, feet propped up on the table. "Phoenix Wright."
"Who?"
"Phoenix Wright. Kristoph was defending-no, Kristoph's protege was defending Phoenix Wright. They're saying Kristoph framed him!"
He didn't mean to yell or suddenly snap his head up, but when he did he surprised Daryan into jerking back. He'd never seen Klavier like this before. No one had.
"An accusation is nothing without evidence," Daryan assured him.
"Or a confession."
Daryan deadpanned. "That son of a bitch…"
Klavier tugged at his hair twist, hoping that would pull him out of this nightmare. It did not.
What happened, Kristoph? Why did you confess?
THE NEXT DAY, AT THE DETENTION CENTER
It took Daryan an hour to talk Klavier down from driving (while intoxicated) across two states to visit his brother. It took Klavier ten minutes to organize a flight which would assure him a quick trip back home.
The flight lasted far too long, he could hardly remember what sleep felt like, and he was sure he looked a wreck.
Klavier Gavin refused to be even a minute late for visiting hours.
The guard immediately called for Kristoph Gavin. Upon hearing who the visitor was, Kristoph calmly went with the guard to visit his brother. In a private room.
"Klavier," Kristoph said, sitting across from his brother. His hands were cuffed before him-something which nearly sent Klavier to the floor, though he settled for leaning heavily against the table and sliding into his chair-but he was otherwise unmarred by the hostile environment around him. "You look exhausted."
"I'm fine." Klavier tried to smile, despite his throbbing head and his dry throat and his burning desire to grab Kristoph by the lapels and scream, "Why did you confess?" Kristoph waved away his pathetic attempt to appear cheery.
"You never could fool me, Klavier, so don't try."
"Why?"
Kristoph smiled patiently at his younger brother. "Because I'm your brother, of course."
"I meant, why did you confess?" Irritation edged into Klavier's voice, but one look from his brother sent it running for the hills. "Accusing you of murder. Ludicrous." Pain blossomed in Klavier's chest. Isn't it, bruder?
"Yes, the accusation was ludicrous." Kristoph adjusted his glasses. "But I did confess." A sigh. "Oh well."
The younger Gavin stared blankly at his elder brother, who smiled ever so serenely at him, hands resting, cuffed together on the table. Klavier felt as if his clothes were too big, his chains too heavy, as he trembled beneath his brother's gaze. Klavier's eyes settled on his brother's mouth, watching that impeccable smile. He'd never seen someone smile like that when facing hard time.
The elder Gavin refused to make the next move. He sat there, patiently waiting, allowing Klavier to feel as if he had control of the situation. But Klavier couldn't stop shaking. His emotions reached a fever pitch and he lunged at Kristoph, slamming his fists against the table. Klavier's face was inches from Kristoph's, his eyes boring into his brother's. Kristoph's smile disappeared. The pressure in Klavier's chest returned.
"You should watch yourself, Klavier. It's very unlike you to lose your temper."
Klavier didn't move. Kristoph frowned.
"Sit. If this is how you are going to behave-like a child throwing a tantrum-then I might as well return to my cell."
Slowly-and shakily-Klavier returned to his seat. The smile returned to Kristoph's face. "Thank you."
"What happened?" Klavier asked. "I thought Wright was the defendant. Not you."
"Yes, well…" Adjusting his glasses, Kristoph continued. "It seems as if the Forging Attorney thought it wise to bring in falsified evidence, again. He turned my own subordinate against me."
"He bested you."
"Sadly, yes."
Klavier slammed his fist on the table again. Kristoph gave him a pointed look, but Klavier paid it no mind. He focused again on a small spot on the wall; an insignificant speck of dirt on the wall. How could someone—especially someone who had been out of law for seven years—best his brother? It made no sense.
"When is your trial?"
"Trial? You mean sentencing. It is to be later today. In fact, when I heard I had a visitor, I assumed you to be an interrogator."
Klavier smiled weakly. "Ja? Sorry to disappoint."
Kristoph chuckled. "Nonsense. Now, you look horrid. You should go home and rest. Speaking of, weren't you a few states away performing a concert?"
"Ever hear of a plane, bruder? I took one to come see you after I received the call."
"And have you even slept since? Or showered, for that matter. You smell like booze and perfume, Klavier."
The younger Gavin laughed. "Well, what can I say? The Frauleins were all over me last night."
"I'm sorry to have ruined your fun. Go on, now. I meant it when I said you look horrid."
Klavier shook his head. "Not with your sentencing today. I'll rest afterwards."
"There are a few hours until my sentencing. I'm sure you can at least take a nap." Kristoph reached across the table, taking Klavier's hand in his and giving him a most assuring smile. "You need it. A shower too. I don't think the Judge would appreciate it if you came in smelling as you do."
There was a moment of hesitation before Klavier nodded sheepishly. "Ja, fine. You... you take care Kristoph, okay? I'll see you at the hearing. I won't miss it."
Nodding, Kristoph withdrew his hands. The brothers stood and said their goodbyes. Klavier briefly embraced Kristoph before the guard came in to escort Kristoph back to his cell. Klavier left the Detention Center, surprisingly not as dazed he expected to be-he didn't think long on that, however. Immediately he called a cab, among other things; he could not save Kristoph now, not when Kristoph confessed (He didn't even tell me why, Klavier realized), but he could be supportive. He could be there for Kristoph. And he would be.
Klavier ambled to the cab once it arrived, mindlessly barking out his address to the cabbie. Once the car started, Klavier called Daryan.
["Klavier? Hey, man. How'd it go?"]
"It seems my brother and Herr Judge have an appointment in a few hours. I won't be flying back today."
["Didn't expect you to. You handle your business and the four of us will fly back tomorrow."]
"Ja, ja. And in a week, the Gavinners take to the skies for another concert filled with Frauleins."
["If you're up for it, I don't think anyone else is going to object."]
"Objecting is my business after all, ja?"
["Ha-ha. Very funny."]
The two band mates said their parting words and hung up. Shortly thereafter, the cabbie arrived at Klavier's home. He paid the man, leaving quite the tip, as he had not the time to listen to the cabbie's drivel, and began the seemingly endless walk to his front door. His chain weighed his neck down, forcing him to hunch over, and his feet dragged against the concrete walkway. Klavier carried no bags. He left them all behind.
The walk to his bed was a long one. Klavier passed through his home without registering a single thing around him. Every action was solely muscle memory, from not stubbing his toe on the doorway to setting his specially made shoes on the floor next to his bed. Here, alone in his bed, Klavier didn't have to think about how best to conduct himself. He didn't have to think about anything if he didn't want to.
Klavier's final conscious act was setting his alarm. Kristoph's sentencing was the last of the day, at five o'clock. As it was now eight thirty, Klavier set his alarm to three o'clock before closing his eyes. Lying cold on top of the sheets, the prosecutor danced with the fickle Fraulein named Sleep.
EIGHT AND A HALF HOURS LATER, AT THE COURTHOUSE
"...I hereby sentence the defendant, Kristoph Gavin, to life in prison. You will spend the remainder of your days in a solitary cell with no chance of parole. Court is adjourned."
The Judge banged his gavel, formally bringing about the end of the sentencing hearing. Klavier sat in the peanut gallery, watching on as a bailiff took his brother by the elbow and led him away. Kristoph did not once look towards the gallery. Had he, he would have seen Klavier at the edge of his seat, gripping tightly the banister which kept him from falling onto the main floor.
The Judge began gathering his things, preparing to leave. Klavier knew the Judge fairly well; the Judge who sentenced Kristoph also presided over Klavier's first case, and many cases after that.
Typically, Klavier would've called out to Herr Judge. Today, Klavier silently gathered himself and strode out of the courthouse.
Outside the media forced itself onto Klavier. They were all shocked to see him. "We thought you were still out of state with your band," one reporter said, shoving her microphone into his face. "Tell us, how do you feel about your brother being incarcerated?"
"No, tell us how you feel!" said another reporter, also shoving his microphone into Klavier's face.
Klavier pulled on his sunglasses, pushing past the crowd, forcing them to let him through to his vehicle; a purple sports car. They cried for answers but Klavier gave them none. He knew better than to speak to them right now.
Once in the car, it was only a matter of putting the key in the ignition and hitting the gas pedal. Soon, Klavier found himself on the highway, heading to his home. He would visit Kristoph tomorrow. Tonight he'd drown his sorrows in happy thoughts, fine wine, and a resolution: He would not let the rookie who bested his brother off the hook.
Klavier would see what the rookie was made of, one day.