With a laugh, into the night She fled,

And, now, by the moonlight I see;

The ship of life on which I've been bred

Is sailing on uncertainty.

.'.

Klavier Gavin made sure that the masses enjoyed themselves at every Gavinners concert. He and his fellow band members always performed live (none of that ridiculous miming), they always composed their own music and played their own instruments. No cheating. He was an honest man and as such, felt that everyone should get their money's worth. It was for this reason that he felt he deserved his fans. However, sometimes even he grew tired of performing for others whether as a rock star or a prosecutor, and it was at these times that he would retreat to this reclusive spot where he could get lost in the peaceful density of the trees and revel in the solitude the river offered. It appeared Mother Nature was pleased with him; she rewarded him by playing her own music for him — every time he visited this spot in his desire for privacy, the heavens opened up and the sound of the rain on the river made him feel as though his very soul was being bathed, purified of his sins, washing away his burdens and drowning his troubles.

Except today.

He'd sat under a tree for hours now staring out across the water trying to focus on it rather than the depression that seemed to be creeping into his mind and digging its claws into his thoughts. He felt more and more like a dark cloud was hanging over his head no matter what he did. He could barely sleep, he couldn't sit still and if he managed to, he would freeze into some pose, withdrawing into the darkening abyss of his heart. Usually, he was plagued by reminders of Daryan. It had been over 2 weeks since the trial and he had not visited his friend. No matter how much Deston and the others tried to convince him to go, just once, and talk to the fallen guitarist he refused. He might have listened to them if he knew why Daryan had done what he did but when he asked if they knew the reason, he was greeted by silence — meaning Daryan had refused to answer which proved to be all the fuel Klavier needed to keep the fire inside him raging.

They were all devastated by Daryan's betrayal. They'd all been close but he'd been Klavier's best friend. He'd known him since childhood. He'd grown up with him and shared everything with him. He'd been closer to him than Kristoph, his own flesh and blood. How could the man, who was for all intents and purposes like a brother, do this and refuse Klavier the courtesy of an explanation?

His phone vibrated against his chest. He let it ring for a while before lifting a hand to it numbly and taking it out. The caller display said it was Deston. He'd been checking up on Klavier almost every day since the trial; he would ring and when Klavier didn't answer, he would visit by the office. Of course, this irritated the prosecutor immensely — he wasn't a child. And then there was that other reason. A reason called Ema Skye.

Annoyed, Klavier pressed the reject button and placed his cell phone back in his jacket. As if Deston wasn't annoying enough without striking up a budding friendship with the Fräulein. Whenever he came to see Klavier, Deston made sure to at least stop by her desk to talk for a minimum of 30 minutes. If she was at a crime scene, lo and behold, Deston would be there. Klavier wasn't the only one who'd noticed the pairs camaraderie — the rest of the world had become privy to their 'friendship' thanks to the media. Klavier scowled as he remembered the cosy photographs he'd seen in the newspapers earlier on of the two laughing with a raging headline that had already caught half of the nations eye by noon. Nobody would believe the two were friends — Klavier knew them both and even he could not guarantee it was nothing more. Of course, Deston's smile when Klavier had questioned him on the matter had not reinforced Klavier's confidence in his claims of 'strictly friendship'. Usually she was found at her desk or rushing around snapping at people but now… Klavier found himself searching for her regularly and his frustration at being unable to find her was not good for his already unstable blood pressure. He wasn't jealous. He just didn't want Deston disrupting the smooth running of his workplace — if things didn't work out, Klavier was sure Ema would started avoiding him as well as Deston which would be quite inconvenient as he was her boss…

"Ach!" he punched the grass. Who was he kidding? He was in love with the woman. She did nothing but run through his mind all day and tease him in his dreams at night. Ever since that night in his office, he'd woken up every night, his body wracked with desire and his mind afflicted with longing. He'd been an ass to her and he knew it but he didn't know how to redeem himself. He'd cringed time and time again at the look on her face when he'd pulled away to answer the phone — it haunted his every waking moment even floating in and out of his dreams at times. What could he say that would explain his behaviour? How could he tell her that he had almost disrespected her? How could he explain that, in his grief, he'd almost touched her for the sake of soothing his bleeding heart rather than because she deserved to be kissed for being her? Would she even understand? No, Klavier didn't think she would. And so, to avoid causing her any further pain, he'd practically hidden from her. Yet, this had paved way for the very thing that was eating out his heart with jealousy — he'd given someone else a chance. A very close someone else. He didn't know whether Deston was serious about her or not and, try as he might, he could not get an answer from the moron except for an excruciating silence and an annoying smile. If Deston was serious Klavier would step aside and let his friend make her happy — after all, he'd had his chance with her and he'd ruined it. What right did he have to interfere now? But he'd have to find out once and for all. He had to know where it was going.

But what if it wasn't serious?

Klavier didn't know the answer to that. Would he tell her how he felt? And what about how she felt? Would she want him? Or was she content with Deston? There were so many unanswered questions, so many what-ifs that he felt as though his head would explode. He also knew that even if she did feel something for him, she still deserved more than what he could probably give her right now. His mind was a train wreck, his emotions all over the place. He was sat under a tree, drenched brooding on the cruelty of life — what could he possibly offer her? He wanted to give her something he'd never given anyone — his heart. Except nobody wanted a ruined gift and that's just what it was. It was filling with bitterness and anger. He wanted to give her a whole heart, pure and red not mangled and blackened.

Because of his best friend… and his brother.

The two people he should have relied on the most had betrayed him and both refused to offer him an explanation for why they had turned his world upside down and ruined life for him. Because of their betrayal, Klavier was doubting everything from his friends to himself. It was because of them he wondered if he could trust anyone anymore. It was because of them he wondered if he could trust himself to love Ema the way she deserved. It was them holding him back even now from behind bars.

Kristoph. His own brother.

When he had discovered his brother's trial he had flown straight back to the States and the first thing he had done is visit him demanding an answer, preferably a vehement denial of the crime he was accused of. Kristoph, however, had done no such thing. With a simple smile and a raise of the eyebrow he had informed Klavier he was as guilty as the Devil and not to worry his 'pretty little head about it'. Klavier, needless to say, was infuriated and had it been anyone else sitting in his brothers seat, he would have punched him. Instead, years of intimidation and reminders that he was the 'younger, less brainy Gavin' had forced Klavier to simply leave, unsatisfied and shattered. He and his brother had never been best friends but they'd been brothers. They'd talked, dined and vacationed together. As children Kristoph had taken care of Klavier when he was bullied sometimes striking out to defend him.

It was with those hands that Kristoph had punched a hole through his chest and punctured his heart.

He pounded the ground again and shook his head vehemently. No, he thought to himself, I'm not going to go through this again with Daryan. They both made their choices, without a thought for anyone else. Why should I spare them any?

Thankfully, just then his phone rang again as if someone had sensed his need for a distraction. With a sigh of relief he yanked out his phone again but just as he hit the answer button, it stopped ringing. He checked to see who the caller was and, to his surprise, found it to be Ema. His heart skipped a beat just as it always did whenever he saw anything connected to her. This was why he loved her — because of the smile now creeping onto his face. He was about to ring back when an idea sprung into his mind. He couldn't tell her what he felt directly but who said he couldn't do itindirectly? So, instead of ringing back and inquiring as to the reason for the call (after all, it couldn't be urgent otherwise she would have carried on ringing till he answered), he stood up and walked to where he'd left his hog. His favourite place may not have given him the purification he sought but it had given him a genius idea.

Everyone watched as Ema and Deston walked back into Criminal Affairs laughing and joking. There was a certain comfortableness about the pair which backed up the claims made in the newspaper and the fact that the two continued to spend so much time together despite the news was a confirmation for the masses. Ema Skye had received her share of glares and insults from crushed fan girls on the streets both when she was with and without Deston. Whenever he heard someone shout her way he defended her with gallantry she had seen in few men. Even though the comments were unwarranted as there was nothing romantic in their relationship, some of the days events had been entirely too entertaining. It was one event in particular that had the pair in stitches as they stumbled towards her desk completely oblivious to the stares of some of the staff.

Deston was trying to wipe some ice cream off himself that had been aimed at Ema but had ended up colliding with his face and hair instead when he'd moved forward. The look of horror on the girls face when she saw who she'd hit coupled with Deston's blank and blinking one had been priceless — they'd both been unable to stop laughing ever since. Every time Deston stopped, Ema would set him off again and when she stopped, he'd set her off again. And so it went on and on.

"I think I just cracked a rib," Deston gasped leaning against her desk.

"Nonsense," Ema said through peels of laughter. "It's scientifically impossible to crack your rib laughing."

"Really?" Deston asked calming down then suddenly held up a finger. "No, please don't answer that. Your answer will probably set me off again."

Ema simply nodded and they both silenced in their mission to get their laughter under control. Deston was running his hands through his sticky hair and she looked away quickly and bit her lip to stop herself laughing. She was trying hard not to remember the way he'd frozen when the ice cream had connected with his face and the helpless manner in which he'd tried to remove it smearing it through the rest of his hair instead. She focused on her desk to clear her head of the image and found some new documents on it. There was one, that seemed to catch her eye. On the top of the pile was a small note that said HS-9. Ema frowned. What was that supposed to mean? Assuming it was just a forgotten memo, she moved the pile aside making a mental note to ask if anyone had lost it. She turned her eyes back to Deston who was grinning at her and the sight of his sticky, messed up hair made her laugh again. Deston joined in, his eyes lighting up… But for another reason entirely — he'd seen the note and he knew what it meant.

His plan was working.