Pretty Little Poison
Disclaimer: I do not own, nor am I affiliated with Ace Attorney or Capcom. This story is just for fun.
Rated M for: Lemon, strong language, very dark/potentially triggering themes [specifically violence/murder] and minor character death; Mostly in the later chapters.
Ema Skye was poisoned.
An attempt was made on her life.
Klavier's pupils shrunk drastically in his seething rage, which heated every inch of his body like a spreading fire. He did not notice Lana's gaze, hardened like stone, fixated on him in an automatic suspicion. "I demand an investigation. I want these results turned over to authorities right away."
"We will, sir. A criminal investigation is imminent. In the meantime, we have to run more tests to determine just how the poison entered her system."
"Will she recover…?" Lana questioned.
"There is a fairly good chance for survival. However, we have to confirm there is no damage to her major organs. At this point, the outlook is favorable."
Lana's gaze slightly softened with relief; Klavier's face, fixed to the floor beneath him, was reddened, and trembled as though he was a volcano on the verge of eruption. His fists were clenched until his knuckles were white, with his fingers digging deep into the skin of his palms. What little sanity there was left desperately clung to his judgment; this investigation had to be completed the right way, he had kept telling himself. He could not allow himself to act like his brother did. Yet, when it come to Ema, did he have enough strength within to exercise restraint?
He stiffly flexed his fingers after a long moment, only to grip his long, blonde hair in frustration and squeeze his eyes shut. His will had been ripped in two; he felt the itching, intense urgency to investigate this and face the perpetrator himself, though he knew he could not leave Ema's side. He could not lose her. He could not let her die. Every moment with this woman was precious, like a treasure to be cherished forever. Even if it meant rotting away in this hospital at his personal expense.
"...Gavin..."
Red. All he saw was red. His mouth watered for the perpetrator's death at his hands. He wanted them to pay.
"...Mr. Gavin..."
She had to live. She had to.
Lana had gripped his arms and shook him; He finally returned to reality and looked to the woman knelt beneath his gaze. "Mr. Gavin!"
"Entschuldigung – er… sorry," He sucked in a breath.
"I'm worried about you, too. When was the last time you've slept? Or ate?" When he did not give her an answer, she continued. "You have done so much for my sister and I am forever in your debt. I think you should go get some rest. My furlough lasts three days. I will keep an eye on her."
He looked to Lana with agony and grief, searching her eyes for answers. To leave Ema in this place would be the most painful thing he had to do, yet he knew this was no time to focus on his needs. Reaching for a pen and notepad nearby, he wrote his phone number neatly for her. "Please. Do not hesitate to call me."
Tears filled Lana's eyes as she took the paper from him. "I promise."
"Ema, mein liebe. Mein schatz," He whispered, resisting the emotion tearing away at his throat. He ran his fingers through her soft hair, kissing her forehead tenderly between words. "Ich bitte dich. Wach auf. Für mich. Für deine Schwester. Ich bin verloren ohne dich. Ich liebe dich."
Taking one last look at her, he turned to leave.
"You really love her, don't you?" When Lana's words stopped him, he turned. "I understood what you said. Every single word."
Saturday, April 6th - 1:03 p.m.
Ema Skye's Residence
Though Lana had given him a promise, unfortunately, he could not return to the comfort of his home. Not at a time like this, with the knowledge that someone had purposely hurt Ema. Instead, Klavier retrieved his sports car from the valet parking attendant and returned to the scene of the crime; He was relieved to see detectives already surrounding her house. Parking far away, he got out and scowled with a determination to get answers. A couple of officers had greeted him, yet he ignored them by walking passed. Even if it killed him, he would solve this case and banish the world of this nightmare forever.
One detective was taking samples from dishes in the sink while another secured an empty bag of her treasured snackoos from the trashcan; and another was taking photos of her personal items in the bathroom. "This was where I found her," he informed the detective.
"Prosecutor Gavin!?" the young, nervous man turned at the sound of his voice. "It was you?"
"Achtung! I want no stone left unturned on this scene! No one will stop until we get an answer. Understood?" His voice boomed through the entire home; his order was followed by several German curse words that he mumbled under his breath. His colleagues, confused about his sudden authority, continued to work. Behind Klavier's strong facade, he was shaken. Rather than Ema standing by his side in this hall, making depreciating jokes about her home in comparison to his, he was surrounded by detectives and police officers.
After retrieving a pair of sterile gloves from his subordinate, he allowed himself into the bedroom, where her lingering scent embraced his nose lovingly. The room was small, much like the rest of the house, with plain white walls and a window framed with brown curtains. A small dresser sat to his right and a neatly made bed with pink bedding was just ahead. Beneath his boots was a plush, pink throw rug, accenting well with the dark, wooden floor.
It was odd that he felt comforted here. Welcome. Like a piece of him belonged here. He accepted the peace, which revived his determination to bring her justice at all costs.
Klavier walked over to the bed and observed her nightstand carefully. An alarm clock, a lamp, an unplugged cell phone charger and a corded phone. Nothing seemed amiss here. Reaching for his flashlight, he looked underneath the bed but saw nothing obstructing his vision to the wall on the other side.
Returning to a stand, he eyed the entire bedroom admiringly, until his eyes set on the series of notes that he left with the roses. Above these, though, was another piece of plain white paper, pinned to the wall proudly above the dresser beside a unique teapot figure with a golden substance in it. Fur mein Fraulein, it had read, in elegant handwriting oddly similar to his own. Beside it was a vase that once held her delivered flowers. He blinked; he never wrote this to her and this was not his handwriting. In the trash can beside the dresser, he found a parcel box addressed to her with writings that matched the handwriting of the German phrase.
Replacing his gloves, he carefully examined the bottle and discovered the teapot figurine to be a bottle of perfume, the same scent that she was wearing.
"Shit… Joe," he alerted the nearest detective. "I need this submitted as evidence immediately."
Removing the gloves from his hands, he watched the nervous police officer enter the bedroom and examine the teapot and the sign on the wall. His exhausted mind swirled with these new discoveries. Once the officer started to remove the fake message and retrieve the remnants of the parcel, he left the house without another word.
Saturday, April 6th - 1:17 p.m.
Fairview Medical Center – Intensive Care Unit
"Sis..." Lana smiled as she brushed Ema's hair. "Your hair is so long and so full. I wonder what kind of shampoo you use. Regardless… we don't have it in prison," she laughed to herself. "I remember that I would try to make you have tea parties with me and my dolls when you were a baby. You didn't understand and you would always cry for mother."
She neatly placed Ema's brushed hair on the pillow beside her and moved on to another section of hair. To her great surprise, Klavier had entered the room without warning, with two doctors right behind him. He lowered her hospital gown and smelled the fragrance on her chest, then moved his nose to her wrists, where a small rash was visible. "It's the same scent," he had told the doctor behind him. "This needs to be tested."
"Huh? What's going on, Mr. Gavin?"
Klavier closed his eyes and paused, filling the room with silence, with the exception for the monotonous beeping of Ema's heart monitor. He tried to develop any other possible scenario, though the conclusion was always the same. Someone had hated him enough to make an attempt on Ema's life. "I think I am being framed."