I own nothing except for the OC's original plot and the new poem-y thing. Prepare yourselves for a Klavier-fest

And to escape them, I have tried my best,

To keep together the hole in my chest,

While fighting them in my search for relief

As they steal my rest and kill my belief.

.'.

In the loneliness of the night and the shades of the dawn, Klavier had found there was just one face before his eyes and only one scent torturing his senses – green eyes and wafts of citron on the air. It was as though someone had unleashed an invisible doppelganger on him, to haunt him, punish him for his mistake in the office that night. Every day he had to endure the sight of his friend laughing and joking with her. He had to watch in silence as Deston hugged her, took her out to… well, he didn't know where. And when they were gone from his sight he found no reprieve; his mind took over to continue the job. He imagined the many things they did when they were alone. There was no way to know of course – Deston was old-fashioned and as such would not go beyond what he believed to be appropriate public displays of affection (a hug, a peck on the cheek, a brush of his lips against her hand) let alone even mention it. So Klavier was left with the possibilities conjured up by his imagination – and imagine he did. Deston lounging on a sofa with Ema in his arms as he brushed her hair away from her face to kiss her smiling lips…

"Ach!" Klavier sat up straight in his chair, rubbing his eyes as if someone had jabbed him in them. There was nothing he could do to stop these damned visions from infiltrating his mind and working their way down his body, sweeping through his heart like a knife, taking a piece of it for the ride to settle in his stomach where they danced around till he was ready to vomit. The fire of jealousy was consuming him, destroying him and he wondered how long it would be before he was reduced to a pile of ashes.

He sighed. Of all the women in the world, of all the girls that stalked them, why did Deston have to be interested in Ema?

Actually, Klavier figured he knew why. He supposed he had himself to blame – partly. He had, after all, been the one who told Deston all about Ema, how she was so stubborn, refusing to be impressed by his success, charm or cheesy pick-up lines. Of course these type of women appealed very much to Klavier – and Deston. The rest he blamed entirely on the Fräulein herself. She was far too attractive and endearing for her own good.

It took a lot out of Klavier not to be angry at Deston and take a swing at him for laying hands on her. Every time they touched Klavier wanted to punch him and the only thing that held him back was the fact that he'd had his chance and blown it. Deston didn't know he was treading on Klavier's toes – hell, even Klavier himself hadn't known how he truly felt about her till he'd seen her with Deston. How could he blame his friend for being more of a man than he was? Instead of talking to Ema about what happened, he'd hidden away like he was back in high school.

"K?" a voice interrupted his thoughts. He looked up to find Deston standing in the doorway, an eyebrow raised and a hand in the air as if he was about to knock on the open door. "You okay?"

Klavier scowled. There was that concern he was sick of hearing in Deston's voice. It was as though he expected him to break down any moment.

"What do you want?" he said aggressively and Deston looked surprised. And so he should be, Klavier thought. It wasn't just the concern that was grating on his nerves nor the jealousy that he had to live with on a daily basis. There was another reason and Klavier very much wanted to hit Deston in the face for it.

"You having a hard time writing the next hit, man?" Deston asked as he dawdled up to Klavier, an eyebrow raised. "You could always ask for help from the other members of your band. You know. Like me."

"Why did you lie to Fräulein detective about the roses?" Klavier blurted out suddenly. He hadn't meant to say it and the realisation that he'd probably given himself away was mortifying but he wouldn't let that show. So, with tremendous effort, he kept his face blank as he stared at Deston.

For the second time in under 5 minutes, Deston looked briefly surprised; he smiled and cocked his head to the side. "What are you talking about?"

"You didn't send those flowers." Klavier said standing up.

Deston leaned against the wall, his hands snaking into his pockets as he smiled. "And how do you know that?"

"It's not your style to send unsigned stuff." Klavier said lamely but he was unwilling to admit the truth.

"How did you know they were unsigned?" Deston said and he sounded amused now.

"I heard you." Klavier snapped. "You are evading my question."

"You're right," Deston said pushing himself away from the wall and sidling along the cabinet while examining the guitars on display. "I don't send unsigned presents. But I told her that it was from me so at the end of the day, they weren't really unsigned per se. But – " he said turning around and looking at Klavier just as the latter was about to interrupt. "You're also right in believing I didn't buy her the roses."

"Why – "

"Well someone sent her roses and they weren't signed so I figured why not take the credit?" Deston shrugged with a devilish grin. "He obviously didn't care who she thought they were from."

Klavier fingers curled into a fist and he wanted nothing more than to smash it into Deston's face. The only thing that held him back was the fact that he didn't want him knowing that hewas the one who'd sent the roses to Ema… He knew he was wrong for even thinking the way he was but Ema was his. In his heart, in his mind, she was always meant to be his – he'd never imagined for a moment anybody else would whisk her away let alone his friend. He'd lived in a bubble of safety where she would be available when he finally decided he wanted a relationship.

And this thought made him sick.

It was true – he'd been an arrogant pig. He hadn't realised her worth until it was too late and, just as he deserved, he had lost her. What added insult to injury was that he had already had his chance.

"You alright, K?" Deston's voice broke through his thoughts and he focused on his friend. There was a frown creasing the usually smooth skin above his eyes and his head was tilted to the side.

"Yeah," Klavier said looking around for his jacket. He needed to get out of here.

"What are you looking for?" Deston asked.

"Halt den Mund!" Klavier snarled as he stormed out of his office not caring about offending Deston, what his behaviour would look like to an already worried friend and least of all, about his jacket.

Water rushed over and around his boots, unable to move the frozen prosecutor as he stared directly at the setting star on the horizon. Many passers-by had seen him as they returned to their cars after a day out at the beach but none approached him even upon recognition. Although he had done nothing but stare out across the swaying water, there was something about his presence that screamed his desire for privacy.

To any that saw him, he was an impossibly perfect figure and to his fan girls he looked sexier than ever; his black shirt clung to the muscles that filled out his frame. His body was encased in the rays of the dying sunlight – his face glowed golden and his hair shimmered as the wind caressed it, giving him the appearance of an angel. Yes, to many he looked more beautiful than ever and they probably would have rushed to him and he would have been drowned either beneath the masses of females or the water. However, there was one thing about him now that stopped them from doing that very thing; there was something deeply unsettling about his posture – no other part of him was moving. His hands were clenched into fists and a few fancied they had seen blood drip from in between the curled fingers. What they could see of his face was blank and in the impending dimness of the twilight, the chiselled features of his handsome face looked dark in a way that had nothing to do with shadows. Were it not for the fact that nobody would set a statue of Klavier Gavin in the middle of the beach, they would have believed him to be made out of stone for nobody who loved the star and had followed his work could reconcile this man with their idol. In those moments, he was the perfect manifestation of the tragic heroes in Greek legends… doomed to be remembered for his troubles rather than his achievements.

And so, on they went, throwing furtive glances filled with excitement, longing and curiosity until the beach was deserted and the day fully gave way to night. Still, the young man remained standing in his spot, uncaring of the attention he had drawn to himself, barely feeling the dampness growing around his feet nor did he care that the setting sun had strained his eyes – there was just one thought on his mind: his own star was setting. He'd continued staring until the stars had crept across the blanket of the night to rest overhead and finally a second thought came to his numb mind: Yes… it's gone.

Such dark emotions can never be explained – they can only be felt. And this was why Klavier spoke to nobody of the hopelessness that had engulfed him. Many would wonder what could possibly induce such a deep depression in a hugely successful man… And how could he explain to them? To those who had what he lacked, how could he explain the value of those things? Because Klavier knew human nature – nobody appreciated anything until it was gone. How could he tell them that he would give up both his careers, his royalties and his life just to undo all that he had seen over the past few months? How would those who had never experienced the loss of a brother understand him wanting Kristoph back? Good riddance, they would say.You're better off, they would say. Who needs a brother like that? they would say. And the same would be said for Daryan; evil man! Trying to frame a child. But Klavier knew Daryan wasn't evil. All those years he had spent with his best friend, there was no way he wouldn't have noticed it if Daryan had truly been evil.

And then Ema. If it's meant to be, it will be, he could hear them say sympathetically. If it isn't then… there are other girls. You'll find someone else and one day she'll be lucky if you remember her name.

But there was no such release for Klavier. Not too many knew he believed that love only came once in a lifetime and it had come to claim him. He had always imagined falling in love would be passionate and strong and saturated with joy. He had always imagined himself spoiling the love of his life with gifts; jewels, vacations, clothes, food… everything. Yet, for a prosecutor, whose job it was to be sceptical, cynical, he had found himself to be the most naïve of them all. He had lost his brother and best friend – and he suspected it had happened long before their trials and incarceration. And now he had lost the woman he loved to another friend.

So what did a man live for after losing all that?

The answer came to him, unhindered, unprecedented; he lived to die.

There was no change in his expression, no break in the rhythm of his breath – his mind accepted this realisation with the serenity of one who had been told it would rain. The only change that came was in his movement. His hands unclenched and he looked up into the sky with a wry smile wondering if his mother was looking at him right now. He rarely thought of her, mostly because it was too painful, but what was pain now? It would soon be over anyway. Why not spend a few moments to recall the green sparkle of her eyes when she would smile at him with the maternal love radiating from her in abundance? Why not close his eyes and imagine she was wrapping her arms around him again in a bid to absorb some of his hurt? Adelita Gavin's son moved forward as the silence of the sea called his name. He didn't know if he would see his mother again… he had been raised believing there was no place in heaven for people like him. Then again, would he have gone to heaven anyway? So with the thought of his mother, the essence of her that sprung from his imagination and memories enveloping him, he pushed himself deeper in the depths of his recollection knowing this was his last moment with her… even if it was only in his mind.

"Ich hab dich lieb, Mutti," he murmured and the words of love that had not been spoken for years punched another hole in his battered heart. But he didn't care and he took another step forward. It would be over soon. It would be over soon. His mind turned, for a brief moment, to the only other woman worth remembering at the perilous edge of this precipice. A smile crept onto his face as the detective's face wavered in his minds eye and he murmured another proclamation of love, "Ich liebe dich von ganzem Herzen, Ema." He wondered if she would miss him. He wondered if she would even care. He took another step forward. He was knee deep in the water now.

"Stop."

And he did. Klavier frowned; he wasn't sure if the voice was real or the desperate resonance of the coward in him that was afraid to die. When he didn't hear it again he shrugged it off and moved forward again.

"Stop."

He froze for a second before turning around slowly to face the owner of the voice and found a woman standing a few feet away from him where the water lapped at her bare feet. Klavier stared at her blankly; and she stared right back with a serenity that made the tranquillity of the night seem like a thunderstorm.

"May I help you?" Klavier asked hoping to sound indifferent but he was embarrassed to find his voice was unsteady. He hoped she didn't know what he had been about to do.

She continued to look at him in silence. She wasn't observing him or taking in his appearance. No, her eyes were fixed intently on his and they weren't moving. Unnerved by the steadiness of her gaze, Klavier moved his eyes swiftly over her. She was tall for a woman and dark-skinned – a honey coloured complexion. Her hair was long and black framing an oval face featuring slightly defined cheekbones, plump lips and dark, dark eyes. However, stranger than her shadowy appearance was the clothing she wore – it was a white dress that hung off her, flowing in the gentle wind and contrasted around her in the most unsettling manner wrapping around slender limbs. Stranger still was his inability to put an age on her. He'd never met anyone who looked as ageless as she did and yet every time he looked into her eyes he was sure she had lived a hundred years.

At last she spoke; "Take a walk with me."

Klavier was taken aback. He hadn't expected such an invitation and so thrown off balance was he that he blinked for a few moments before approaching her. She had turned slightly to the side and was waiting for him, never taking her black eyes off him until he was finally by her side. "Take off your boots." His eyes widened in surprise but unwilling to argue with her, he complied while she waited. Finally, barefoot, he stood up and looked at her as if awaiting further instruction. She was looking ahead and when he was done, began to glide along the edges of the water and he followed suit in silence, confused and somewhat disconcerted by this strange woman.

"You're Klavier Gavin." She stated. With any other woman he would have probably snapped and told her he wasn't in the mood for autographs but something about the tone of her voice told him that wasn't what she was interested in. He didn't reply; the way she had said it didn't require an answer.

"You are…" she was quiet for a moment as if searching for the right word. He didn't offer any but continued to walk by her side feeling it wasn't his place to be suggesting anything to her. "…a symbol." He was stunned at the statement and he looked down into her face because although she was tall, he was taller. The look on her face was still serene but the argument that had been rolling off his tongue died behind sealed lips.

"I've been watching you since you first stepped into that water four hours ago." Had it really only been that long? To Klavier it had felt like a lifetime. "Your feet are damp." He frowned, still not saying a word, but confused by her strange tangents. "Do they feel better now?" She sounded amused and he relaxed enough for a moment to actually feel his feet – she was right. The texture of the sand beneath his wet feet did indeed feel good. He waited for her to talk again preparing himself for another strange remark or question but it never came. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye – she looked familiar but he was sure that, had he ever met her before, he would remember her. She was too distinctive to forget and push to the back of ones mind. There was something ethereal about her; he didn't know whether it was the contrast of colour between her genetic make-up and the clothes or the strange depth of her eyes. Klavier couldn't put his finger on why he couldn't stare her in the eye and he didn't have the courage to actually look at them long enough to figure out what it was. No matter how anxious he might have felt around her however, something told him she was not an average woman. How else could she have pulled him from the water with one word?

"You were going to make a very grave mistake, Klavier," she said suddenly and he started. For a second he forgot that he felt he should hold his tongue around her and the fact that she knew what he'd been about to do didn't register in his mind – an anger overtook him almost instantly and he stopped.

"And what do you know of mistakes, Fräulein?" he said quietly. She had stopped a few steps ahead of him and she turned around very slowly to fix him with her sharp gaze.

"A lot," she said calmly. "And I have learned from them – only too late."

"We all make different mistakes," he said looking away and out over the water again. "You don't know what – "

"I know what you have been going through," she interrupted quietly and he looked at her again. She was staring out at sea too now and the moonlight reflecting off the water hit her eyes making them look more unearthly than ever. "The world knows your troubles. A fallen brother and a treacherous friend…" Something inside Klavier screamed in protest at the harsh judgement but he held his silence. "And judging by the pain I heard in your voice, an unrequited love." Klavier's face flushed with embarrassment at the fact that this stranger had heard him proclaim his love for a woman who didn't even like him. She pierced him with her gaze again. "Everyone knows you're going through a troubled time which is why you absolutely must not take the route you were going to."

"What…?"

"If you were an average man one who nobody knew except family, friends, maybe a partner, it would be bad enough. But to do this when you are a symbol of strength and justice to so many in the world is..." She shook her head. "That would be the biggest betrayal of all." Klavier opened his mouth to speak but she raised a hand and cut him off. "Your death would be a message of despair – that evil cannot be beaten. And it is not so." Klavier wanted to argue. He wanted to say that nobody would care about his dying that some would probably even rejoice in it but something stopped him – and that something was recognition.

Recognition of the truth in her words.

"Unter schwierigen Umständen zeigt man, was in einem steckt," she said and Klavier's head turned so fast to face her that he was sure he'd pulled something in his neck. He barely felt it – she had repeated the very sentence his mother used to say to him when he was little; one shows what he is made of under difficult conditions. There was nothing unusual about her using the phrase, it was commonly used in his homeland. But that she had used it tonight of all nights when he had been remembering his mother…

"Have you read Hamlet?" She asked and he paused for a moment wishing he could keep up with her before nodding. "Do you know what caused his downfall?"

"The ghost of his vater," Klavier said plainly. She gave a swift nod.

"The Ghost was the beginning. What really caused his downfall was his mind – he thought and thought. And when the time came for action, he'd spun so many webs of confusion in his mind that there nothing coherent left in it."

Klavier frowned. He'd never really thought of it like that. He had always assumed that thinking was a way to organise one's thoughts, ensuring no rash action was taken. Yet this mysterious maiden was saying otherwise… and making sense.

"Show them what real strength is, Klavier Gavin," the woman whispered. "Don't disappoint the ones who care for you because of the ones who have disappointed you."

Klavier gazed at her for several long moments in which she did the same. Their eyes remained locked and it was as though some other exchange was taking place; he was thanking her with his azure pools and her black ones seemed to be you're welcome-ing him.

"Thank you," he said after a moment not content with silent gratitude. "I had…" he took a deep, unsteady breath. "Forgotten. Thank you for reminding me." She simply inclined her head in acknowledgement. "May I ask you something?" She inclined her head again. "You mentioned mistakes…?" He didn't go on, instead giving her the chance to pretend she didn't understand his question and evade answering it if she chose. To his surprise, she smiled.

And it shattered his heart.

The smile reached her eyes – but not the jubilant or the kind type. This was a smile that screamed of regrets, sorrow and in the silence that followed he was sure he heard the terrifying sound of a broken heart. He almost took a step back in fear of it – to him it was at once the most terrible and beautiful thing he had ever seen. In her smile he saw so many things he had never even dreamed of or imagined and he wondered what she had been through to be able to summon a smile like that. Did he really want to know?

"I made many mistakes, Klavier," she murmured the smile still lingering on her lips. "Nothing I can do now will undo the consequences of my actions."

"Es tut mir Leid," he muttered.

"Don't be," she said kindly. She approached him and laid a hand on his cheek. He was taken aback by the soft and cool feel of her fingers on his skin. "Go back to the battlefield and fight. Go back to her."

Her hand on his cheek coupled with her words had suddenly made him more emotional than he had ever allowed himself to be in someone else's company. His entire being softened and he swallowed before whispering, "Danke schön."

"In der Liebe und im Krieg ist alles erlaubt, Klavier." She stepped back. "Fight."

He nodded and looked at his feet as he always had done as a child when his mother had kindly reprimanded him. He was about to say something, anything to fill the silence, express his gratitude to the woman silently stood before him but his phone rang and he cursed. He took it out of his pocket and glanced at her with an apologetic look. She gave him an understanding smile and another tilt of the head before he turned away and answered his phone.

"Ja," he said and he was pleasantly surprised to hear his own professional tone of voice had returned leaving no hint of the past few hours.

"Where the hell have you been, Gavin?" he smiled as he imagined the scowl that would accompany Ema's words.

"I have been, ah… preoccupied." He said.

"Hmph. Deston wants to talk to you." Klavier would have felt an overwhelming sense of anger at the fact that they were together – again – but he felt only a slight twinge of jealousy now. He felt reborn, rejuvenated. He felt ready to fight.

"Whatever Deston is wanting you can say to me too, Fräulein detective." He said teasingly.

"Oh fine, wait a minute," she snapped and he smiled as he heard her say something to someone – no doubt Deston – on the other end before speaking again. "There's been a murder. We need you at the crime scene."

"Okay. Where?"

"I'll message you the details, I have to go." She answered briskly.

"Danke. I will be there as soon as possible, ja Fräulein?"

"Good. Make sure you are, Gavin." And she hung up on him before he could reply. Chuckling, he put his cell phone back in his pockets and turned around. "Fräulein, do you nee – "

His companion was nowhere to be found. He scanned the beach for her, surely she couldn't have managed to walk far in such a short time, but found it deserted. He frowned and spun towards the sea hoping against hope she hadn't walked into the water for some strange reason but nothing – the water seemed undisturbed.

Where had she gone?

He scanned his surroundings a few more times but when he found nothing he made his way back to where he'd left his hog looking over his shoulder every so often expecting her to suddenly reappear by his side. As he straightened his motorbike and mounted it he felt an overwhelming sense of loss — as if he was losing a life-long friend. With a start as shocking and sudden as the sound of his bike when it roared to life, he realised that she had saved his life - and he didn't even know her name.

Heheh… So guys what do you think? I hope you liked it! (o.O) Hope tis not too disappointing. First I'll give you guys a translation of the German in this:-

Halt den Mund – Shut up

Ich hab dich lieb, Mutti – I love you, Mom

Vater - Father

Es tut mir Leid – I am sorry

Ich liebe dich von ganzem Herzen! – I love you with all my heart

Unter schwierigen Umständen zeigt man, was in einem steckt - One shows what he is made of under difficult conditions

In der Liebe und im Krieg ist alles erlaubt – All is fair in love and war