Author's Court Record entry: This can be read as budding Klavworth or deep friendship. This was inspired by several things, two of them being fics. I can't remember the name of one particular story or its author, but it was about Gregory Edgeworth taking his tiny Miles to the library for books. Miles found and fell in love with 'To Kill a Mockingbird' by Harper Lee. Plus, Gregory was rumored to have been inspired by the book's attorney, Atticus Finch.

Another source of inspiration was an Edgeworth/Maya fic called 'Equilibrium', written by xArle. A stunningly beautiful gem about how Miles' world is governed by logic.

Not at all having access to an accurate German dictionary, I had to rely on the powers of the Internet for a few phrases. Please forgive me! Here are rough translations of what is said:

"Bitte helfen Sie! Hilfe, bruder, verlass mich nicht!": Please help me! Help, brother, don't leave me!

"Ich bin bei dir.": I'm with you.

"Ich werde dich nicht verlassen.": I won't leave you.

In realizing the similarities between Edgeworth and Klavier's backgrounds, I felt the need to get this out of me. I really hope you enjoy it!

"Are you all right?"

Incredible how powerful words could be. Their power was something Miles Edgeworth still couldn't untangle, even after establishing himself as a legendary Chief Prosecutor. Astonishment crossed paths with new discoveries in and out of court, and new ventures always began with words. Whether they were simplex or complex, little treasures so many took for granted had the power to shape lives. Change lives. End them. The words he formed into a question that evening introduced him to a world he had never before acknowledged. A field of memories he had always overlooked. Much to his surprise, it was a field of dreams he was determined to explore. A place he would tread lightly in, but would never leave.

Words transformed his life into a mosaic of precious memories, bittersweet memories. Powerful memories that were still fresh, as though they had just unfolded a few minutes ago. Words recreated a distant past, a world in which he still wished to live. A field of dreams he shared with his father. Strange, how a simple question compelled him to visit a world he found impossible to face, for far too long. That tiny question sent him on several ventures into his past, one of them resting in his lap: Harper Lee's 'To Kill a Mockingbird'. Complete with the old bookmark that still read 'To little Scout'. Visiting memories of his father had become strangely easy as of late, when for eons he found even thinking of his father's name akin to driving knives into his skin.

And it all began with a simple question: 'are you all right?'

The night he asked that question began quietly, just as innocent as any other evening. Clocking out for the day, Edgeworth had closed down his office and was making his way out of the prosecutor's headquarters, but something about Prosecutor Gavin's office alerted him. While he himself was no stranger to staying late, it was odd to find Gavin wandering around his office. At eleven o'clock at night. Usually the beaming ball of charisma made it out much earlier, either taking his case files home or somehow finishing up his homework before the school bell rang. But on that night, Edgeworth saw something he wish he hadn't ignored. Something all too familiar.

And it was that 'something' that prompted him to ask the question.

The answer Gavin provided him wasn't at all satisfactory, much less acceptable. It was given with one of his winning smiles, but the answer wasn't at all credible. "Couldn't be better, engel," the beaming prosecutor told his mentor. The term of endearment didn't ruffle the Chief Prosecutor's cravat, even with it meaning 'angel'. Klavier Gavin was well-known for a personality over flowing with sunshine and bubbles and pixie dust.

What bothered him was the lie.

"No need to trouble yourself over me. Go on home, Herr Edgeworth-I'm certain you've had a very long day."

And it was in that moment Miles Edgeworth realized something.

He and Prosecutor Gavin were very much alike.

It made perfect sense. Putting all of the puzzle pieces together made it all crystal clear. He didn't have all the details, of course, having been entangled in his own labyrinths, but knew Prosecutor Gavin barely made it out a few trials. Trials that were nothing short of back-breaking roller coaster rides. And every last one of those trials concerned Apollo Justice's mentor, who doubled as Klavier Gavin's brother.

Then there was the disbarment. The charges a certain blonde prosecutor brought down upon Phoenix Wright's head. A friendship severed in court, with words laced in poison. A career shattered in mere minutes. All by the power of words.

Miles Edgeworth didn't have all of the details, but sensed familiar darkness behind Prosecutor Gavin's sunny smile. It was impossible to put his fellow prosecutor anywhere near the idea of having a black heart, a soul living only for malice. Over the course of his career, the Chief Prosecutor became more open to miracles, things out of the ordinary. Magic from other worlds. But logic, undisputable, solid logic, prevented him from believing Klavier Gavin had anything but a heart of gold. Sure, he didn't have all the details, but sometimes-

Just looking at someone provided you with more than enough details.

Just being near someone provided you with more than enough details. He realized that, sitting at the prosecutor's bedside, watching over him as he desperately tried to sleep. Gavin's face was wreathed in pain he found all too familiar, for fifteen whole years. Edgeworth may not have had all the details, but upon being invited to his fellow prosecutor's house for a debate on music genres, he was quickly reintroduced to a world he left not too long ago. One infected with loss, torment. Frustration.

Clutching 'To Kill a Mockingbird' to his chest, Edgeworth shut his eyes. While there would always be a bank of precious visits with his father, Prosecutor Gavin had very little to reflect fondly on-if anything at all. Guilt settled into the pit of his stomach; Gavin-no, Klavier-had unwittingly made it effortless for him to think about Gregory, whereas his fellow prosecutor was still covered in gaping bullet wounds. Apollo's friend couldn't even sleep, and worked himself raw-either with case files, or trying to put the pieces of his life's puzzle back together, Edgeworth couldn't tell which. The Chief Prosecutor noticed the other's exhaustion the second Klavier opened the door, once again smiling but just as transparent as a sheet of plastic. It was all written off, of course, but twenty minutes into their visit, Edgeworth urged him to get some rest. Even ushered Klavier into bed himself.

Probably hadn't slept in a long time.

Relieved over how easy it was to access cd collections in a vast array of genres, Edgeworth created a serene ambiance with ambient albums. Albums the other prosecutor must've purchased in an attempt to get some sleep, or at least relax, the Chief Prosecutor concluded. Klavier was written off as a rock god but somewhere along the line amassed a great amount of albums in genres much quieter than rock.

Unfortunately, the music was of very little help. Klavier slept well for a mere twenty minutes before wrestling with his sheets, bringing Edgeworth front and center with whimpers. With a face contorted by pain. And he was whispering something, something about-

"Bruder."

A pang not only shot through Edgeworth's heart-it ripped through his veins and ground every one of his bones into ash. I knew it.

"Bitte helfen Sie! Hilfe, bruder, verlass mich nicht!"

Edgeworth grimaced, setting his father's gift down on the bedside table. Now we're getting much too familiar. Much too familiar for my comfort.

Those words, every one of them burning alive with pain, cast him into a world of memories he had barely left behind. Cast him into a world of memories he could not see, but memories he'd cut his soul out to erase. The pain, the loss, the guilt, the flames that scorched him for fifteen whole years-he wouldn't wish any of it on his worst enemy. But there he was, Prosecutor Klavier Gavin, infected with the same torment.

With the look on Klavier's face, and his words, still fresh, still echoing, Edgeworth bolted out of the bedroom. Suppressing his usual refusal to intrude on anyone's personal belongings, he soon returned to the bedroom with a warm, damp cloth. It was gently set against the other prosecutor's forehead in a mere moment, followed by:

"Ich bin bei dir, Klavier."

Finally. Finally have the chance to put my German to good use. Well, there's ONE thing I can thank you for, 'Papa'.

"Ich werde dich nicht verlassen."

Taking his fellow prosecutor's hand, Edgeworth shut his eyes and held it against his heart.

"I'm here, Klavier."