AN: This is it! Thank you everyone who's been following along with the story so far. I really appreciate it!

"Why did you do it?"

Kristoph gave the man on the opposite side of the glass an inauthentic—albeit well-practiced—smile. His visitor was exactly who he expected it to be.

"Unfortunately, your question could apply to a variety of unlucky circumstances I've experienced throughout my life. I'm afraid you'll have to be far more specific than that."

"Alright, fine. Why did you forge the evidence, try to poison a little girl, befriend Herr Wright for all those years, and kill Shadi Enigmar? Is that specific enough for you?"

Kristoph leaned forward and steepled his hands, eyes dancing with amusement. "I have nothing to say beyond what was already said in court. I did it to cover up for the forged evidence. That's all."

"But why did you get the forged evidence in the first place?" asked Klavier, a note of desperation in his voice. "You were only going up against me, your own brother. Was it that important for you to beat me?"

Kristoph threw his head back and laughed, sending a chill down Klavier's spine. "Klavier, please. What makes you believe that you actually stood a chance against me in the first place? I had years of experience over you. The only reason I requested the forgery in the first place was if, by some miraculous stroke of luck, your witness would have said something…unexpected. It was simply a safety precaution, nothing more."

"There was still no reason for you to give the evidence to Herr Wright. The only reason you did it was out of petty revenge, ja? That's the same reason you killed Zak Gramarye," accused Klavier, fists clenched. Kristoph sighed lightly and shook his head.

"I can assure you, I did not ruin Wright's career and murder Shadi Enigmar out of mere jealousy. My pride and social standing were on the line. Shadi Enigmar discarded me like a broken toy. As if I was…not needed, as you so eloquently stated in court. It struck a chord in me, and…well, perhaps I did overreact. But it's nothing the bastard didn't deserve." Kristoph leaned back. "If that's all the information you require from me, then it's time I take my leave."

"I'm not finished yet," Klavier said, narrowing his eyes. Kristoph tilted his head, smile unwavering.

"And what else could you possibly ask of me? I've already told you everything that would satisfy your interests."

"Have you been taking the prescribed medicine?"

Because of the light reflecting off Kristoph's glasses, Klavier could not see his brother's expression. After a few moments, Kristoph replied. "How is that any of your concern?"

"I want to know if I can have a reasonable discussion with you, or if you'll break down like you did in court a month ago."

"The medication is unnecessary. Despite what those psychiatrists say, I'm not insane. There are no…problems."

"How can you actually say that?" Klavier asked, running his hand through his blonde bangs. "I saw you lose it in court. Kristoph, that wasn't a normal reaction. The way you clutched your arms like that…it reminded me of a straightjacket."

"It came as a surprise to me that the authorities would allow a disbarred lawyer to fundamentally alter the very foundation of the judicial system. Still to this day, I cannot possibly comprehend what was going through their heads." Kristoph chuckled, although there was no humor in it.

"No matter what you say, the fact remains that you're considered criminally insane by law. You shouldn't hate it since it got you out of the death penalty. And depending on behavior, you might even get a reduced sentence." A sound of derision escaped Kristoph's lips, causing Klavier's temper to flare. "What? We both know you forged the evidence and killed Drew Misham, but there was no decisive evidence to convict you. Legally, you're only being held here for the murder of Shadi Smith. So what's the problem?"

"The problem," Kristoph snarled, hand banging down on the divider with a thump, "is that my imprisonment is politically motivated. They're making an example out of me to prop up this farce of a jury system. They will never let me out of here." Then, Kristoph changed on a dime. The twisted contortions smoothed, and the mask of a smile graced his face once more. "But that's alright. I have no desire to leave. And you're not really concerned about my thoughts on the matter, are you? You believe that I'm just like our father."

Klavier clenched his fists. "Don't bring him into this."

"Why not? They say mental illness is hereditary, after all. You might want to be careful; who knows if you'll catch it, too?"

A silence fell over the two men as the both continued to stare at each other, one smiling and the other grimacing.

"What makes you think I'm not?" Klavier asked, finally breaking the silence. Kristoph frowned. "I do have someone I speak to about it. Sometimes there are things in my life—in me—that are…hard to deal with. I don't want to be like you."

After a pause, Kristoph said, words dripping with venom, "I don't believe you. The sun shines out of your every orifice. You expect me to believe you, of all people—"

Klavier threw up his hands. "Fine, don't believe me. No skin off my back."

There was another round of silence, thick and heavy with tension.

But this time, it was Kristoph who finally broke the silence. "Why did you come downstairs, Klavier? Seventeen years ago…"

Klavier blinked, taken aback, before finally realizing what his brother was referring to. "I heard something shatter. I knew you said not to leave the room, but I was worried for you and ran out anyway."

"How sweet," said Kristoph, although his expression showed that he thought it was anything but. "You used to care so much for me when we were children. Where exactly is that brotherly love now, hmm? I didn't see you defending me from those accusations when we were in court. Instead, you didn't hesitate to tell me I wasn't needed. So tell me, what happened to that brotherly affection you used to prattle on so much about?"

"Weren't you the one who told me it was best if I kept my integrity by searching for the truth? I only did what was fair. Vera Misham didn't deserve to be convicted, and I was not going to accuse her if her only crime was being too trusting."

"I suppose I should have expected an answer like that from you," sighed Kristoph, growing bored with the conversation. "Is that all? I really do wish to get back to my cell."

"No, it's not. I still want to know why you told me about the forged evidence seven years ago. I know it was to get Herr Wright disbarred, but why did you have to tell me? Why couldn't you have just told the Judge yourself?"

"It would have been suspicious if I somehow managed to know about the evidence, despite not being involved in the case. It was much more suitable for you to be the one to bring it up. I knew you wouldn't ask questions. You're too trusting for your own good, Klavier."

"So that's it, then," muttered Klavier, refusing to meet with his brother's eyes. "I was just a pawn in your twisted game of revenge. But no…it's not just me…you treat everyone like this, don't you? You really are similar to Father, and it's not just the madness."

Kristoph's face suddenly grew very dark as he leaned closer towards his brother. "I'm not the only child who takes after him, Klavier." He spat out Klavier's name like a curse. "You both have the uncanny ability to remain apathetic towards the plight of other family members. You both don't care, and you both try to make my life as terrible as it could possibly be!"

"Kristoph, your eyes…"

"Don't accuse me of being like him, while you turn a blind eye to your own flaws. You always pretend to be so pure and innocent. You always have, and always will. What a joke. I hope you get along with the Wright family now, because you're perfect company for one another." Kristoph knew he was giving off the impression of being unhinged, but didn't care. "You don't need your older brother anymore."

"That's not true," replied Klavier, finally meeting his brother's cold blue eyes. "The Wright family and Herr Justice have been very kind to me recently, but they're…not family." Klavier closed his eyes as he looked up towards the ceiling. "Kristoph…seventeen years ago…you killed Father, didn't you?"

Silence reigned as Kristoph took a moment to collect himself. Then, he gave Klavier a small nod. "Yes, I did. Your initial suspicions were correct. I stabbed the man multiple times, and I enjoyed doing it."

Klavier took a deep breath and put his forehead in his hands. "I always had the feeling it was true, but I didn't want to believe it. I forced myself to buy into that ridiculous robber story." He lifted his head, looking exhausted and much older than his twenty-four years. "Why? What did he do to you?"

For a split second Kristoph considered telling Klavier everything: about the murder plot, the paintings, Katharina's manipulation, Kristoph's near-death experience, and everything else that went on during those horrible years.

But he didn't. Instead, Kristoph gave Klavier the same cryptic smile he's always worn since the Gramarye case seven years ago.

"He was an inconvenience. You know that our father was not exactly fond of me. I simply lost my patience and retaliated against him."

"I don't think that's the whole story. You're hiding something," accused Klavier.

"Perhaps. Either way, you're not getting any more information out of me concerning the matter. All I will tell you is that he insisted on insulting me until his very last breath. Calling me riff-raff and preaching about his absolute power; just who did that man honestly think he was?"

Klavier tried to process this information as Kristoph paused for a moment, a realization occurring to him. He suddenly broke out in hysterical laugher, reminiscent of when Vera Misham was given a "Not Guilty" verdict in the courtroom. The hairs on the back of Klavier's neck stood on end as he searched his mind for something to say to calm his brother. After a few minutes, Kristoph composed himself and made eye contact with Klavier.

"How ironic. The man I hate more than anything is the man I became. Everything comes full circle, I suppose. Perhaps this is his revenge from Heaven or Hell or wherever that pathetic man is."

"Kristoph," Klavier began. He didn't fully understand what Kristoph was talking about and wanted to know more, but figured that it would be better to change the topic before Kristoph had to be forcibly taken away. "Two weeks ago I returned to Germany. I talked to Sophia."

"Oh?" This was the first time in the whole visit that Klavier saw Kristoph genuinely surprised over something he said. "How is she faring?"

"Good, actually. It's been seventeen years, but she's still a looker."

Kristoph rolled his eyes. "Did you tell her about my current predicament?"

Klavier was quiet for a moment before shaking his head. "No. She asked about you, but I tried to give vague answers. The only information she told me was nothing that could help you in this situation."

"What did she tell you about me?"

Klavier hesitated before speaking. "It was something foolish. It has no bearing on this case."

"Regardless, I want to know. What did she tell you?"

Klavier knew there was no escaping this question and told Kristoph the truth. "It was about your locket. It was seventeen years ago, so you might not remember. I was acting like a dummkopf and it got caught in one of the trees in our yard."

"I remember that incident clearly. What did she tell you about the locket?"

"She gave it to you as a present. She said in her hometown there's a tradition around it that's supposed to help the wearer feel encouraged. She said it's customary to put in a picture of someone who will accept you no matter what. Whose picture did you put in it?"

Kristoph smiled. "Do you really want to know?"

"Yes…"

"I have it here, if you must insist." Kristoph pulled out a golden chain from his pocket, with the locket attached. Klavier was surprised that Kristoph had it after all these years, but decided not to question it. After Kristoph fiddled with it, Klavier heard the chiming sound of the locket being unlocked. Kristoph pushed the locket towards Klavier so he could get a good look at it. After seeing what was in it, Klavier felt his hopes fall.

"It's…empty?"

"Yes."

"But, why? You always used to carry it around, ja? Why would you carry an empty locket?"

"Well," Kristoph began, smiling faintly. "I suppose I never had anyone who fulfilled the requirements."

"…you did. You chose not to put their picture in."

"Who was it, pray tell?"

"It was me," Klavier said, putting his hand up to the glass. All the love and grief he felt for his brother threatened to burst from his body. He wanted nothing more than to break the glass and hold tightly onto him like he did all those years ago, forgetting about his brother's misdeeds and manipulation. He knew it was an unrealistic daydream, and Kristoph would probably start screaming for the guards if he tried to pull anything like that, but he still hoped, deep down, that his brother could love him back. "I loved you unconditionally back then. Hell, even with all the stunts you pulled in the last seven years, I still do. I know I shouldn't, and I hate myself for it, but I do."

"I knew you cared for me back then," sighed Kristoph, a trace of irritation in his voice as he adjusted his glasses, refusing to make eye contact with his brother. "But there's a difference between love and acceptance. Don't patronize me by pretending otherwise."

Silence fell over the two men as they recalled the memories of their childhood. Klavier finally broke the silence.

"Kristoph, do you…love me?"

Kristoph looked at his brother, not expecting the question, but not surprised that he asked it. The older man simply raised his arm and sighed, shaking his head. "Klavier, I believe you already know the answer to that question."

A soft knocking on the door was heard as a red-haired man's head peeped through the door. "Umm…I'm sorry, but Mr. Gavin….can you come with me…please?"

Kristoph rolled his eyes in annoyance, realizing it was the same incompetent security guard as before. He stood up to leave, giving one last look at his brother.

"Although my actions may have implied otherwise, this conversation was not as unpleasant as it could have been. Nevertheless, I do not expect nor want to see you here ever again."

There was another moment of tense silence as Klavier processed what his older brother just said.

"So…this is it, then?" Klavier gritted his teeth in frustration as he ran a hand through he blonde bangs, trying to search his mind for something appropriate to say. "You're just going to shut me out of your life like I never even existed?" The prosecutor tried to give a chuckle, which fell flat. "You're acting crazy."

"I believe that's already been established by various sources. Unless, of course, you wish to see an official document verifying your claim? I trust that the prison has a few copies of those."

"I can't believe this," muttered Klavier, clenching his fists. "You know what. You're right. I never understood you, and I don't think I ever will." Klavier reluctantly loosened his grip as he gave a sigh of resignation. "The least you could do is give me a reason. Why don't you want me around? Don't tell me your cell is too appealing to leave." He meant it as a joke to relieve his own tension more than anything, but after he said it the possibility it was true entered Klavier's mind.

Kristoph adjusted his glasses, glancing at his younger brother with a mixture of amusement and annoyance. "It's far better to reign in Hell than serve in Heaven. John Milton first said that in 'Paradise Lost,' I believe." He put a strand of blonde hair behind his hair as he folded his hands on his lap. Even after all these years, the eldest Gavin sibling still was not quite sure what he felt towards his brother. Feelings of love and care merged with contempt and envy, leaving behind a residue of confusion and emptiness. But no matter what contradicting thoughts were present in Kristoph's mind, he knew what he had to say.

"I do not expect you to be able to understand me, Klavier, nor do I want you to. My reasoning for this desire is simple. You have your own life, no matter how much I disagree with your decisions and lifestyle. You should be focused on it instead of dwelling on mine. We never were the perfect family Mother pretended we were, and it's far too late to begin such a feat. There's no way to go back and change what's already happened. I've fallen so far from grace I barely recognize myself, but you, you, Klavier, still have the chance to live the life Mother would have wanted you to have." His lips twisted upward in slight mockery. "To live amongst the angels."

Klavier sat in silence and opened his mouth before closing it. Placing one hand gently on the glass separating them, he opened his mouth again and began to speak. "I know we can't go back. But that doesn't mean we have to cut off contact forever, ja?" He closed his eyes as he gave a deep sigh. "You're a part of my life. I can't simply erase that and forget…Kris."

"No…I suppose you can't. But I still do not wish to see you here again, and no amount of protesting is going to change that." Both brothers refused to make eye contact with the other, silent words as clear as if they were shouting.

"Umm…" the third voice interrupted the two once again; Ron DeLite looked as though he wanted to bolt out of the room. "Mr. Gavin, can we leave now…please?"

"Very well." He turned to his brother. "I believe we said everything that needs to be said, don't you agree?"

"I…" Klavier vaguely noticed his voice was cracking as he held back tears he didn't know he had. He cursed inwardly, upset at his lack of control. But, Klavier thought, watching his older brother turn his head away from him, it hardly matters anymore. "I hate you."

Kristoph gave a sigh as a small, almost sympathetic, smile appeared on his lips. "You and I both know that's not the case." He gently placed his hand up to the glass across from Klavier, who was staring at his older brother with a mixture of love, anger, sadness, and confusion. "Consider what I said, Klavier. It may be the last advice as a brother I will give you."

The older man turned to exit the visiting room, brushing past the red-haired security guard, and closed the door to his brother forever. Ignoring Ron DeLite's pitiful attempts at small talk, Kristoph glanced at the scar on his right hand and gave a faint, sad, smile.

The Devil smiled back at him.