Disclaimer: I've said how many times before that I don't legally own Ace Attorney?
Author's Notes: Klavier and Kristoph really have an interesting relationship. A few lines at the end of case four in particular caught my eye… Anyway, I can really see Klavier having sort of a hero-complex for Krissi when they were younger. This is super long for a one shot, has loads of spoilers, and contains some pretty mild Gavincest, so you have been warned. (And please excuse me if any of the German is incorrect. There's only a bit of it, anyway…)
Brotherly Love
Kristoph Gavin appeared to be perfect in every way—looks, grades, popularity, work—and none knew it better than Klavier.
His brother had raised him, after all. The older Gavin rarely had time for Klavier between school and two part-time jobs… But when Klavier did get to be with Kristoph, he saw the sides of his brother that nobody else did.
Most people saw Kristoph as a hard worker and perfectionist. Klavier always had too, and he'd had the highest adoration for Kristoph. However, once the older boy had snapped at him for having "annoying, pet-like loyalty."
The young boy had then locked himself in his room, crying and swearing to avoid Kristoph for the rest of the week. However, soon after, Kristoph had come to Klavier's door, whispering soothing apologies until Klavier had let him in. He had then cradled Klavier in his arms for several minutes, telling him that his admiration was actually cute.
Another time, Klavier had woken up in the middle of the night, scared and disoriented from a nightmare. He'd promptly thrown himself into Kristoph's room, sobbing. Kristoph sat up slowly, blinking from tiredness and already poor vision. As he looked at his tearful little brother, Kristoph sighed and let Klavier crawl into bed with him. He'd only intended to let Klavier stay until he calmed down, but had woken up the next morning with a pair of skinny arms around his waist and a head of shaggy blonde hair snuggling into his chest.
These kinds of moments were Klavier's treasures. He'd felt that Kristoph was making time just for him, and Kristoph never particularly objected to this view.
Of course, Kristoph eventually left to earn his law degree abroad—in America, he'd said—and Klavier had suddenly been left alone. He'd flung himself at Kristoph when they were at the airport, crying loudly as Kristoph ruffled his hair gently.
"Auf Weidersehen, bruderlein," he'd whispered, and instantly vanished.
A very confused Klavier had been left behind, forcing himself to dry his tears as he took the trolley home.
Law school… He'd show Kristoph law school. And he'd even become a prosecutor. That way, he'd have to see Kristoph again sooner or later…
At seventeen, Klavier became the youngest graduate ever on record for one of Germany's most prestigious law schools. The prosecutor-to-be proudly purchased a one-way ticket to LA, already having filed a request to fill a recent opening in the district attorney's office. The resume had been in perfect English, of course—every minute of his English minor had been worth it.
The plane ride over was ridiculously uneventful, but Klavier kicked back in his seat and smirked. Despite his constant letters to Kristoph, he'd mentioned nothing of his flight to America. He wanted to make a sensational entrance, of course.
"Nein… This just won't do."
Klavier frowned as he looked at the office he'd been assigned. It did have a nice outside view, but the inside was so bare. It just contained a desk, a few coffee makers, and several mugs that had been scattered on the floor.
But he could fix all that later. Shaking his head, Klavier reached into his bag for the map he'd picked up at the airport. He already knew the address of his brother's office, but he needed directions.
Fortunately, the Gavin and Co. Law Firm was just a couple blocks away—Klavier could walk. He grinned, straightened his sunglasses, and slowly walked out of his office…
Klavier's heart pounded a steady, rapid rhythm as he arrived at the distinctive building. It was several stories tall and looked ridiculously well-kept; even the outside screamed success. Kristoph's office made the entire prosecutor's office feel small and unimportant, and that was saying something.
Swallowing, Klavier pushed open the glass door, and stopped mid-step. The tiled floor shined up at him, several small couches lined the walls, and there was a fountain in the middle of the room. If this was just the lobby, Klavier wondered what Kristoph's own office looked like…
"Excuse me, sir. Are you here to see Mr. Gavin?"
Klavier blinked—apparently, the secretary had been staring at him for the past few seconds. He grinned as the woman tucked a piece of her auburn hair away from her slim face.
"Ach. I wouldn't mind staying to see you, though, fraulein…"
The woman snorted. "Whatever. Mr. Gavin's office is on the top floor."
"Danke, fraulein."
Klavier smirked over his shoulder as he headed to the elevator. A girl who didn't swoon over him was admittedly a bit refreshing.
After a few seconds of waiting, the elevator dinged softly as it arrived on the fourth floor. Taking a deep breath, Klavier stepped out into the single large room. Navy shag carpet covered the floor, shelves stacked high with case files lined the walls, and several high-backed navy chairs decorated the office.
In the middle, Kristoph sat at an expensive mahogany desk, chewing the tip of his tongue as he filled out a form. Several strands of his long hair had fallen into his face, but he made no effort to fix them as he continued writing.
"…Bruder."
Klavier walked forward, delicately brushing Kristoph's hair out of his eyes as the older man looked up in surprise. Setting down his pen, Kristoph slowly stood up and walked around his desk. He then put his hands on Klavier's shoulders, as if to ascertain that he was really there.
"Klavier? When did you…"
"Today," Klavier grinned. "I just came from my office."
"Office?" Kristoph repeated softly.
"Ja. The prosecutor's office just had an opening, you know?"
Kristoph chuckled. "My, Klavier. I should have known. I'm impressed."
Klavier's stomach fluttered at the compliment. He hadn't seen his brother in at least five years, and to get such praise immediately was an immense relief.
"You're… not mad? I did just fly over by myself."
"Of course not. I'm proud of you."
Klavier suddenly pulled Kristoph into a grateful hug. Surprised again, Kristoph awkwardly hugged him back, smiling curiously.
"Klavier…?"
"Bruder," Klavier whispered. "My first case… will be against you, ja?"
"I suppose I could arrange that," Kristoph answered, smiling down at Klavier as he pulled away.
"Achtung!" Klavier grinned. "It'll really rock!"
Kristoph laughed lightly again. "Right. Klavier, I believe now is a good time for us to catch up. Sit down."
Eagerly, Klavier pulled a chair over to his brother's desk and sat down. He leaned forward slightly, his hand never leaving Kristoph's as he started talking...
"Ha! That was wicked, Gavin!"
Klavier laughed as he stumbled into his office. Daryan Crescend, a detective he'd met a few weeks earlier, smirked as he shoved the shorter boy into the room. As it turned out, they both played guitar, and Daryan had introduced Klavier to a few other musical members of the police force. A detective in Criminal Affairs played bass, an officer in General Affairs played percussion, and another prosecutor played a variety of instruments from keyboard to saxophone. The five of them had instantly decided to form a band, and that day they'd just finished "rehearsing."
"Yeah, you're the one that sat on your guitar," Klavier grinned.
Daryan turned crimson at the memory. "Look, don't remember that, okay? And, uh… I gotta get back to my desk anyway, or Chief'll get pissed at me again."
"Ja, Daryan."
Still a bit red in the face, Daryan hurried out of Klavier's office, and the blonde was still laughing as he closed the door. Sighing, he went on over to his desk—it was small, admittedly, but much nicer than the one that had previously been in the room—and leaned back on his swivel chair. His first case was due to be tomorrow, so he really should've been looking at the file… But he wasn't nervous. Kristoph had already agreed to do all he could to make the trial run smoothly, and he'd even shown Klavier a bit of the evidence he'd found.
"Ach, Klavier. Did practice go well?"
"Achtung, Kristoph! 'Course it did. But I wasn't expecting you to come here…"
Klavier grinned again when he heard Kristoph slowly enter the room. The older man brushed his bangs out of his face, smiling gently as he approached Klavier. As he leaned forward, Kristoph put his hands on Klavier's arms and gave a soft, disappointed breath.
"Yes, well… I need to tell you, bruderlein, that I apparently won't have the case tomorrow."
Klavier felt numb for a second, and his mouth went dry. Standing up suddenly, he threw his brother away from him and glared.
"But why?" he demanded. "You promised me, Kristoph!"
"Shh, Klavier… Es tut mir leid…" Kristoph whispered, willingly pulling Klavier into a soft hug. "I can still help you..."
The prosecutor felt himself relax slowly as his brother hugged him. Resting his head on Kristoph's shoulder, Klavier's breathing started to slow down as Kristoph finger-combed his short hair.
"D-danke, bruder," Klavier said slowly.
"It's all right. Now, listen… There's something very important I need to let you know. False evidence has apparently been created for tomorrow's trial."
"W-what?" Klavier blinked as he looked up at Kristoph. "You mean a forgery? But that's illegal! If someone got caught doing that… wouldn't he lose his badge?"
He could have sworn he felt Kristoph's arms tense slightly around him. However, just seconds later, Kristoph simply smiled and nodded.
"You're right. So don't even trust a word the man says, all right? He doesn't deserve your respect. You remember that diary I showed you? The forgery is a falsified journal entry. And as much as it pains me to say this, if the defendant must rely on illegal evidence, then he must be guilty."
"Ach! I'll remember that," Klavier grinned. "Will I see you there tomorrow?"
"Of course. Auf Weidersehen, Klavier."
After a delicate stroke of Klavier's forehead, Kristoph slowly turned to leave the office. Klavier sank into his desk chair again, still grinning as he folded his hands behind his head. The case was his…
"Genius Prosecutor Reveals Crooked Attorney? Ha. I knew you could do it, bruderlein."
Kristoph smiled over the newspaper as Klavier grinned eagerly. The prosecutor then tapped his chin thoughtfully though.
"But a verdict was never actually reached, ja?"
"True, but vanishing is as good a confession as any. Besides, I'm sure this trial will do wonders for your reputation."
"Ach… Tell me, what would you have done if you were still the defense on this case?"
Kristoph frowned as he perfectly creased the paper. He carefully looked at Klavier before responding.
"I… I would have simply allowed Mr. Grammarye his right to a fair trial."
"You look tense all of a sudden, Kristoph." Klavier frowned as well as Kristoph shook his head.
"It is nothing, Klavier. Forget it."
"If you say so, Kristoph."
Klavier gave his brother a concerned look over his shoulder as he stood up to leave, smiling as Kristoph winked.
The Grammarye trial was just the start—Klavier's public standing in LA boomed, and he'd only been in America for a few weeks. The phone in his office rang nearly off the hook for job offers, but he turned most of them down. His band had gone serious, and rehearsals took over most of his time. He did take cases from time to time, but he was usually on tour.
When Klavier was at home, he took an occasional case, and more often than not Kristoph willingly volunteered to help him with the records. Klavier often found himself falling asleep in his brother's office well past closing time, with Kristoph gently shaking him awake and offering him coffee at regular intervals. To be quite honest, Klavier faked sleep more than once just to get the older man to give him the usual delicate touch on the shoulder.
One night after a particularly long and tiring tour, Klavier fought to stay awake as his eyes started to droop. However, he soon fell into a fitful sleep, his head landing on Kristoph's desk as he slumped forward. His tired brain started jumbling together the facts of the case, and soon he began dreaming up every worst-case scenario that could possibly happen—everything from losing a key witness to getting the wrong testimony all together.
Klavier didn't realize he'd been shouting in his sleep until Kristoph frantically shook him awake. Sweating and panting, Klavier blinked as his brother's confused face came into focus. The younger man instantly threw his arms around Kristoph's neck, forgetting for a few moments where they were.
"Bruder…" he whispered. "I…"
"It's all right, Klavier," Kristoph replied quietly, sympathetically hugging Klavier in return. "It's just a nightmare. Would you like me to drive you home? You need sleep."
"J-ja," Klavier admitted reluctantly. "That would be nice."
Letting Kristoph gather his case files for him, Klavier put a hand to his forehead as he shuffled after his brother. At least all he had the next day was a pre-trial meeting, and that wasn't until noon, fortunately. When they arrived in the otherwise deserted parking lot, Klavier let Kristoph push him into the backseat of his hummer, forcing him to lie down. Kristoph drove slowly, and the gentle whirring of the engine almost lulled Klavier to sleep again.
Eventually, Kristoph turned into his driveway, smiling as he turned around to wake Klavier. He blinked blearily as he sat up, confused.
"Wh-why are we at your house, bruder…?"
Kristoph chuckled. "Bruderlein, you honestly think I'll let you stay in your mess of an apartment when you're in such a state? Besides, I have plenty of room for you."
Klavier nodded reluctantly as he stumbled after Kristoph into the two-story building. Kristoph turned on as few lights as possible as they walked upstairs to the bedrooms, for which Klavier was grateful. Pausing when they arrived on the landing, Kristoph turned to look at the prosecutor.
"Klavier? Are you sleeping on your own tonight?"
Admittedly, Kristoph's question caught Klavier off guard. The last time his brother had said anything even remotely similar had been years ago when they were both much younger.
"N-nein, bruder," Klavier yawned. "Will you… let me stay with you for a while?"
"Ach. When was the last time that happened?"
Kristoph nodded, leading Klavier to his bedroom. Klavier felt his body screaming for sleep, and he nearly tumbled over before reaching the king-sized canopy bed. As he lay down, Kristoph calmly pulled the covers over him and brushed his fingers over his cheek.
"Sweet dreams, bruderlein…"
Klavier smiled serenely as he started to drift off, feeling like he was a kid again as Kristoph sank down next to him.
It was easy to lose track of the time when Klavier spent so much of it either at rehearsal or with Kristoph. Daryan scoffed at him more than once for being with the attorney so much, but Klavier simply smiled each time he brushed the other guitarist off—and in fact, he often used Daryan being an only child as an excuse as to why he didn't understand. The detective always shook his head and muttered under his breath afterwards. After a couple of years he started adding that it was a bit unhealthy for Klavier to be so attached to Kristoph, but rarely loudly enough for Klavier to hear.
Klavier didn't realize Daryan was actually right until that world-shattering first trial of one of Kristoph's many understudies. It was ironic, really. Phoenix Wright, the forger himself, was the defendant, and the trial's results were splattered all over the news for weeks.
Kristoph Gavin was guilty of second-degree murder, after all. It wasn't every day that such a prominent attorney was led out of the courtroom in handcuffs.
He'd shut himself in his apartment the day after finding out, and if Daryan hadn't threatened to call the complex's manager to request forcible unlocking of the door, he probably would've stayed there for a while.
Even so, Klavier was too proud to admit to anyone exactly how much he'd been wounded by the news. He felt betrayed—his own perfect brother had sunk to a sudden, unexplainably horrible level. And after he'd spent so much of his life trying to impress and get closer to Kristoph, he suddenly felt hollow.
"Kristoph, you're not needed anymore."
Klavier's own words echoed and jumbled through his mind from the instant they flew out of his mouth the instant Kristoph was dragged out of the courtroom—again. Charges? Second degree murder—again, but this time for the accidental killing of an old man instead of his sheltered little daughter.
He'd watched Kristoph carefully the entire trial, and the man was somehow still the daunting perfectionist he'd been six months earlier. And somehow, every time he'd so much as looked at Klavier, the prosecutor had wilted, unable to bring himself to say what was painfully obvious once or twice. The situation was by no means improved—it was far worsened, instead—by the simple fact that Apollo seemed to have no trouble accusing his teacher.
Although the case seemed to be solved, Klavier did not feel his usual satisfaction. Generally, even when he lost the occasional case, he still felt fulfilled when the truth finally came out. However, this time, with the second charge brought against Kristoph, he felt dead on his feet.
He now knew Kristoph wasn't perfect, a fact he had been perfectly happy not knowing. The man lived in his own wrapped up world of manipulation and fear, and Klavier had been willingly playing the role of a puppet for the last seven years. He'd even been a mule for Kristoph's perfectionism and destroyed an innocent man's career because of it.
Kristoph's insane laughter echoed through the courthouse well after he'd been escorted out, and it sent shivers down Klavier's spine. After all, it was nothing like the gentle laughter he'd heard from Kristoph so many times before, and although the facts stared him straight in the face, he didn't want to believe a single thing that had just happened.
What with two second-degree murders on his account, Kristoph was moved to death row. The execution was scheduled surprisingly quickly, and Klavier swallowed as he made his way to the prison cell. His motorcycle seemed to be running dreadfully slowly even when he picked up speed, and a pit was forming in his stomach.
He was on time, early even, and when he arrived at the cell, Kristoph was sitting as serenely as he always did as people scampered around. Even as the lethal injection was prepared, the ex-attorney still had a small smile on his face.
"B-bruder…"
Klavier blinked as he forced the words out of his mouth. Kristoph's smile widened into the gentle one he always reserved for his little brother, and Klavier felt his heart pounding.
"Ah, bruderlein. Have to come to watch me be killed? Are you that desperate to see this madman go?"
"N-nein! I…"
"Excuse me, sir. If you have any last words, please hurry them along."
Klavier felt the man to be just as much of a murder as Kristoph as he pulled on a thin latex glove and rubbed alcohol onto the inside of Kristoph's elbow. Kristoph merely smiled again as the needle came closer.
"Ich bin verliebt, bruderlein," he whispered.
Klavier felt a lump form in his throat—the needle was perilously close to Kristoph's arm—and he struggled to respond.
"I-Ich bin verliebt, bruder! Ich bin—"
Klavier closed his eyes and tore himself away from the scene before he could finish. He knew Kristoph was already dead.
And yet he felt like a huge burden had finally been lifted off his chest.