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Klavier sat in his bed, staring at the ceiling. It felt like there was a heavy weight on his chest, preventing him from breathing or moving. He blinked slowly, watching the ceiling with determination, as if he would find an answer in the bumpy drywall. Instead, he found total absence of life. He felt much like that himself.
As he watched the white expanse with keen eyes, observing every tiny rise and dip, raking over them with his focus, it was like the bed floated away from him. All of his walls fell down, and the foundation of his house melted away. Thoughts buzzed about like flies swarming a corpse.
The words felt like nonsense, looked like greek, and sounded like static. He kept staring at the ceiling. The bumps and dots stayed vivid as everything else faded away, and the thoughts became louder, and clearer. Among them, Klavier heard words spoken by other people’s voices. Voices he didn’t recognize.
What kind of man has everything, yet feels as if he has nothing? Klavier flinched. You’re aimless. Klavier felt himself closing his eyes, but the ceiling stayed in perfect view. He tried to breathe, but he had lost his lungs.
You do nothing but cause everyone trouble. You are nothing but a burden. The thoughts were clearer now. A voice he didn’t recognize. Your image is nothing but falsehood. What are you trying to hide? Klavier reached in the dark for his mind, but could find nothing. Do you really think you’re prominent enough to matter? Crucial enough for your life to matter?
A voice he recognized.
You’re such an ungrateful brother.
Klavier blinked. The world returned with such intense speed, he felt the shock all through his body. His lungs burned with wheezing, and…
Tears?
Klavier felt tears running down the side of his face. He had yet to move, so they began to pool below his ears, leaving his sprawled out hair and sheets damp.
His arm burned.
Where Klavier found the energy, he wasn’t sure, but when he found it, he reached for his phone. He knew just what to do in this situation: distract himself. He opened the contacts on his phone and scrolled. An agent, An agent, another celebrity he knew barely anything about.... The former gavinners drummer, who no longer spoke with him, Detective Skye, another gavinners member that he stopped speaking with, who played keys.
Daryan.
Kristoph...
Klavier had stopped scrolling, watching as the phone began to shake in his grip. He felt dread crawling in his bones, pulling at his consciousness, and tried hard to push it back. He focused on how badly the screen’s light burned his eyes, and not on the burning in his arm, as he continued to scroll.
Apollo.
Klavier steadied his breathing. They barely spoke either. And yet… they were closer than anyone on his contact list, he supposed. Anyone free and living, anyway. He used all of his willpower to press the call button.
Ring… Ring…
Klavier held his breath. He was suddenly confronted with the horrific reality that if Apollo didn’t pick up, if it went to voicemail, it would just be him. Him, alone in his house. Acheing bones and arm and all.
Ring… Ring…
Klavier’s thumb hovered over the ‘end call’ button, wondering if he might find dignity in pulling his hand back before he found no other person reaching out to get him. He hesitated.
Ring… *click* “This is Apollo Justice from the Wright Anything Agency, how can I help you?”
He was blending the sentence together like he’d been waiting for a client to call, and forgot to breathe in his anticipation. Klavier bit back his words. This must be the wrong time. But now that Apollo had picked up… Klavier had to try.
“Herr Forehead,” he greeted with false confidence, trying to mask how tight his throat was. “Have you forgotten to check the Caller ID?”
“Oh, Prosecutor Gavin.” He sounded relieved. Lighter. It made Klavier just a little less heavy in return. “Yeah, sorry, it’s just… my phone was across the room, and I had to look for it to find it. I was too panicked to check the ID.” A break separated their call, one that neither of them mended for a while. “So… why did you call?”
“What are you doing?” Klavier asked. He held his breath, praying he wasn’t being intrusive. “Oh, working.” Apollo tapped his pencil loud enough for the microphone to catch it. “Well, pretending to. I don’t actually have anything to do. I’m really bored.”
“Ja,” Klavier huffed, “I know the feeling. Hey… can I drop by the agency?”
“Any particular reason?”
“None.”
The silence that followed was deafening. “What’s up with your voice?”
Klavier’s breath hitched. He tried to relax his throat. “Nothing. Nothing, uhm…” he mustered a few coughs, as genuine as he could manage. “Allergies, I think.”
Klavier could practically see Apollo fiddling with his bracelet like he always did when Klavier lied to him. It brought a little ease to Klavier’s mind. The idea made him a little giddier than he’d like to admit. “Come over,” Apollo said. “Company would be nice.”
Klavier let his eyes flutter closed. This whole interaction had felt like a chore; his body wanted to give out on the bed, and his arm burned hotter by the minute. “Expect me in a little while, then. I’m a bit lazy myself.”
“Yeah, of course, take your time. It’s gonna be late soon.” It was? Klavier looked at the time on his phone. 6:43. Huh, it was. “The office closes at 8, so you may not be able to stay long… but it’s probably enough time for Trucy to convince you to see a magic trick.”
Klavier laughed, thinking about the young girl who stayed at the office during the day, and all of her fun antics. “Herr Forehead, you underestimate how much I love those magic tricks.”
“Good,” Apollo stressed with a chuckle, “because she loves to perform them, and no offense meant to her but… I'm getting a bit bored with them.”
“You are?!” came a surprised voice in the background. Klavier suppressed a laugh as Apollo stuttered out an excuse and apology. Moments after the conflict was resolved, he was suddenly faced with the responsibility to end the conversation.
“So,” he murmured, “I’ll be there in a bit.”
“Okay.”
“...Bis Später.”
“Yeah.”
Klavier hung up, running a hand over his face. He groaned as he tried to move, arm still burning at the sensation of movement. He tried to make himself as presentable as he could: despite his lack of energy, he had managed to change into clean clothes, and brush his hair. Still, he didn’t do much other than that.
He grabbed his motorcycle keys from the table beneath his mirror, and stumbled through the door. He approached his hog with hesitation. It already felt like the world was spinning, and he wondered if the high speed ride would make it worse. He didn’t feel like taking his car though, so he hopped on his motorcycle, and steadied himself. The helmet felt heavy in his hands. He stared back at his reflection in the faceguard.
Donning the helmet and gripping the handle bars, he pushed off into the street and sped off to the Wright Anything Agency.
Upon his arrival, there was already a small girl sitting on the steps, watching for him. When she saw his motorcycle, she leapt up and waved her arms frantically. Klavier smiled. He stopped the motorcycle by the sidewalk, next to a red bike he assumed was Apollo’s. Klavier set his foot on the ground and tugged the helmet off of his head. He looked down at Trucy, who had made her way over to him.
“Prosecutor Gavin, you’re here!”
“You were waiting for me,” he stated. He wanted to question it: You were waiting for me? Me? His mind could hardly let himself believe anyone felt content waiting for him. Everything felt too slow, and how nobody else was as aggravated as he was baffled him.
“Sure was! Get inside, it’s cold out!” Trucy grabbed his arm to tug him inside, and while the childish act might have brought a grin to his face on a different day, a bolt of lightning ran up Klavier’s arm, and all of his attention honed in on the feeling. For a second, he couldn’t quite get himself to smile.
Once he was inside, he sat himself down on the couch. Apollo was nowhere to be seen, but Trucy was already rummaging through the props piling high in the office, looking for something. “Polly said my usual act was getting boring, but I think you heard that.”
“Ja, I did.”
“So, I’m gonna whip up something that’ll knock his socks off, and I need your opinion!” She gasped, and let out a triumphant “A-ha!’ once she found what she was looking for: a bird cage with a white lily at the bottom.
“Oh, you don’t need my approval, Fräulein-” she sat the cage on the table in front of the couch with a large thump, cutting Klavier’s sentence short. “I really do! I’ve been practicing this for a while, but I want to unveil it now! I've gotta do it right for an audience before Polly can see!”
She stood proud in front of the couch, and Klavier saw no reason to complain or fight with her about it, so he just sunk into the seat and watched carefully.
Trucy held her hands out, palms facing Klavier, fingers spread. With a flick of her wrists, two white handkerchiefs appeared in her hands, draping themselves over her thumb. She tossed the handkerchief in her left hand and caught it with her right. Balling up her fist, she pressed it extra tight with her other hand, and when she opened her hands, a dove- a live dove- sat there in her palms.
Klavier shook his head. A shocked noise escaped his throat involuntarily. Trucy smiled, opening the cage and setting the dove inside. She took the white lily from the cage, and closed the door. “Here,” she said in a whisper, “You can do it to.”
As she approached the Couch, Klavier’s brows knit together in confusion. She held out the lily for him to take, so he reached out and grabbed it gently. Her gloved hands gripped his, guiding them into a cupped position. Klavier watched carefully as she pressed his hands together.
“Open them,” she said, a wave of excitement held behind a verbal dam. Klavier turned his head away from his hands, but kept his eyes trained on the spot. When he opened his hands…
A dove sat in his palms, tilting its head and staring back at him. Klavier blinked at the dove, dumbfounded. ‘How did…” He couldn’t get the rest of his sentence to leave his throat. Trucy took the bird gently from Klavier’s cupped hands, which fell down to his lap. Trucy set the dove inside the cage, smiling to herself.
“How did you do that?” Klavier finally managed to find the ability to finish his sentence. Trucy picked up the bird cage and brought it to the back of the room. As she bent down to set it next to a shifting cabinet with 3 compartments, she turned to him, and raised a finger to her lips, grinning ear to ear. “A magician never reveals her secrets!”
Klavier hummed in delight- he loved Trucy’s magic tricks. Suddenly, a knock came from a door near the back of the Agency. “Can I come out yet?”
Trucy skipped into the hall as she answered, “Yes, Polly, i’m done!” Klavier sat up taller on the couch. So that’s where Apollo went. Klavier tapped his feet as he waited for the defense attorney to appear.
Trucy hopped through the office, Apollo trailing behind her. When he saw Klavier, an emotion passed through his features that Klavier couldn’t quite pinpoint. Klavier wasn’t sure if it was a good emotion or a bad one.
“Prosecutor Gavin,” he greeted, “Nice to see you.”
“Please, Herr Forehead, this isn’t the courtroom. Call me Klavier, won’t you?”
Apollo seemed a bit stunned at the forwardness, but he recovered. “Alright… Klavier. Uh, welcome to the Agency. Mr. Wright is out right now, so it’s just the three of us.” He made a roundabout gesture with his finger, pointing to himself, Klavier, then Trucy.
“Ja, well… Three is a party, Four is a crowd.”
Trucy tipped her head, her hat sliding to the side with her. “I don’t think that’s how that saying goes.”
“Doesn’t matter.” Klavier shrugged, sinking back into the couch.
Apollo stood straight, hands held politely in front of him. “What did you come over here to do, anyway?” Klavier stared ahead blankly. What to do? He wasn’t sure what to do. ”Uhh, something or another. Just wanted to hang out here. No particular reason.” He fiddled with a strand of hair on his shoulder, looping it around his finger.
Apollo stared at him, and his hand shifted up his wrist to fiddle with his bracelet. He turned to Trucy. “Hey Trucy, can I talk to Klavier alone for a second?”
As she nodded, getting up to leave, Klavier felt his blood freeze. If he had less will power, he might have started to cry, but he swallowed back the strain in his throat and tried to keep calm. Once Trucy was gone, Apollo sat on the couch next to Klavier. Klavier scooted over to make room for him, and turned to face him.
Apollo turned his head, examining Klavier. Being observed with so much scrutiny made Klavier feel small. Finally, he spoke. “I’ve never seen you without your hair styled before.”
Klavier welcomed the diversion. “Ooh, ja, i’m just trying something new." He twirled a strand around his finger. “I thought I might just… wear it like this today.” Apollo nodded, leaning back on the arm of the sofa. “And,” the defense attorney continued, “it’s very helpful. For me, anyways.”
“How so?”
Apollo raised a hand, twirling his finger, mirroring Klavier’s actions. “You curl your hair around your finger when you’re nervous. When you’re not telling the whole truth.”
Klavier bit down sharply, barely missing his tongue (small mercies). He hummed through gritted teeth. Tugging the hair he was previously playing with, he looked down at his feet. Apollo crossed his arms, and Klavier didn’t have to look up to know his face was smug. “So, why are you here, really?”
Klavier’s arm burned. He tried to push the sensation away, lock it up in his mind. “I really didn’t have a reason.”
“You must have,” Apollo suggested, “if you’re still so nervous.” Klavier’s arm burned even hotter, and hotter, and it felt like a bolt of lightning ran through his veins, shocking his muscles into contracting. The impulse sent Klavier off the edge. He turned to Apollo, glaring.
“Do you ever wonder if people lie to you because they don’t actually want to tell you the truth, or do you like feeling cool for ratting them out on it?” His words were cold as ice, and as soon as he said them, he regretted it. He didn’t know where that came from, he just felt cornered and got defensive.
Apollo stared back, wide eyed. Letting his hands fall to his sides, he made an expression like a dog with its tail between its legs. “Okay, you’re right. That was super intrusive of me. I’m… sorry, Klavier.”
Klavier raised a hand. “No, it’s alright, really. I’m sorry for snapping, I know you were just curious.” His heart ached with guilt. He hadn’t meant to upset Apollo.
Apollo swatted the air, looking away. “It’s cool. It must be personal, so I won’t poke at it anymore. You can just chill here if you want.” Klavier swallowed nervously. On one hand, he longed to tell Apollo about all of his woes, but on the other, he knew he couldn’t find the words if he tried.
So instead, he just sunk back into the couch. “Thank you, Herr Forehead.”
The remaining hour of his time spent at the office was uneventful, which made Klavier nervous. It’s been years since an attempt to distract himself made no dent in his temptations. A sickening, cramping feeling ran through Klavier’s arm the whole time he was there. It eased up some times, and worsened other times, but was always present.
It’s been years.
He’d begun to float away from himself towards the end of his visit, but a well-timed shout snapped him back to reality. He looked around, trying to take in his surroundings, and breathe.
“Klavier? Klavier, we’re closing shop. Mr. Wright already came to pick Trucy up.”
Apollo squatted down in front of the prosecutor, waving a hand in his face. Klavier blinked, staring back at Apollo. “Apologies, Herr Forehead, I was spacing out.”
Apollo grinned. “I realised.” Klavier felt his face grow warm when he looked at Apollo’s face, smile brighter than the L.A. sun. ”C’mon, big guy, you gotta get home.”
Klavier hummed. “Big guy? Are you sure you aren’t just short?” As he stood, towering over Apollo, he felt a playful smack on his arm. “I’m not short, you’re freakishly tall,” Apollo argued.
They left the building together, Apollo turning the lights out and locking the door on his way out. Klavier approached his motorcycle, grabbing the handle bar. A small, weak wave of pain ran through his arm, and up his spine. This, he decided long ago, was worse than any pain: this subtle awareness of his limb’s existence.
This sudden realization that the pain was just a phantom, but oh so plausible for the future.
It made Klavier sick. He hadn’t felt like this in years.
In years.
“Klavier?”
Apollo’s voice made Klavier jump, and he turned his head to look. He stood, staring at Klavier with concern. It was an upsetting emotion to see on the man’s face. Klavier stared right back at him.
Apollo shuffled nervously, but continued looking at Klavier with sympathy. Pity, his thoughts cried. Klavier ignored them. “Are you alright?” Apollo took a considerate step forward.
Klavier felt his throat tighten. They both knew the answer, but only Klavier knew the gravity of it. He felt no words in his mind, and no air in his lungs to say any even if there were. He shrugged instead.
That’s all Apollo needed. “If you don’t wanna go home yet, you can… stay at my place for a little. If you want.”
Klavier only had a moment of hesitation before he nodded. “I would like that.” Apollo nodded in return. He got onto his bike and turned back to cast a glance at Klavier over his shoulder. “I know I'm way slower than your motorcycle, but my apartment isn’t far. Follow me.
They both set off into the late autumn night on their rides.
Apollo stopped in front of a small apartment complex. Klavier parked his hog carefully next to Apollo’s bike. He walked up to the front of one of the doors where Apollo stood, waiting. With a turn of his key, Apollo opened the door wide for both of them. “Welcome to Casa de Apollo,” he said awkwardly.
Klavier looked around the little apartment, taking in it’s cozy atmosphere. There was a living room with a big couch and a TV, and next to it was a Kitchen. The two rooms were only separated by a counter that jutted out from the wall. There was also a hallway that (Klavier assumed) lead to a bedroom and bathroom, possibly among other things.
He walked further in. “It’s nice,” he murmured more to himself than to Apollo. If Apollo happened to hear, that was fine by him. He meant it.
Apollo shut the door and took off his vest. “Oh, it’s only a cheap little place, but it does the trick.” He folded his vest over his arm, and strode towards the hall. “Be right back, i’m gonna change into something more casual.”
Klavier sat down on the couch, taking in the living room. There were a few photos on the walls of Apollo with a boy Klavier didn’t recognize: a boy with black hair, a visor, and a bandage on his nose. He looked… fun? Klavier didn’t know him, but if he knew Apollo, he must be nice. Apollo attracted a good crowd.
Klavier jumped at the unexpected feeling of fur swishing against his shoulder. He looked to his left to find he’d been brushed by the tail of a cute calico cat. Klavier didn’t know Apollo had a cat. He held out his hand for the kitty to sniff, and she pushed her head against his hand, lifting it up onto her. Klavier smiled, caressing the cat’s head and neck slowly.
Klavier heard Apollo’s footsteps from behind, but didn’t acknowledge him. “Ah, Calico likes you. I’m not surprised, she likes people a lot.” Klavier reached an arm over the sofa. “Calico? Hardly an original name…”
He let his mouth stay open when he saw Apollo in a white shirt with a red jacket, and snug jeans that bunched at the bottom. Casual meant casual, huh? Why was Klavier so stuck on this outfit? It just seemed a bit… odd, not to see Apollo in that all red court suit.
“Hey, it’s not like it’s an inaccurate name.” Apollo walked around to the side where Calico sat, and reached out to pet her head. She purred sweetly, and Apollo squished her face lightly with both hands. Once he let go, the cat hopped onto the floor with grace, and ran off in a mischievous stride, tail high in the air.
Apollo leaned against the arm of the couch in Calico’s absence. “I was gonna make myself instant noodles for dinner, but if you want some, I can get you some.” Klavier leaned further into the couch. “Don’t make me food if you feel like you have to.”
“Have you eaten today yet?”
Klavier eyed Apollo’s fingers as they lightly brushed his bracelet. “... I had an everything bagel for breakfast.”
Apollo nodded, pushing himself off of the arm of the sofa. “Yeah, I'm making you dinner. Stay there.” he walked into the kitchen and opened the cabinet. Klavier shifted on the sofa so he was laying down on his stomach, leaning against the arm and facing the kitchen as he watched Apollo work.
He fell into a trance as he watched the dull routine of making instant noodles that Apollo somehow managed to make into the most interesting thing in the world. The way his eyelashed fluttered when he blinked, and how he tapped his foot and traced his fingers on the counter waiting for the microwave to finish, it captivated Klavier’s attention. The gentle sway of Apollo’s hips as he crossed the kitchen floor struck Klavier’s heart with adoration.
He sat up as he thought about it, opting to stop himself before he went overboard. He took a few careful breaths, but with a lack of anything to focus on, the phantom feeling overtook his arm again, spreading through his fingers and down to his wrist and forearm.
Apollo was a welcome distraction. He set the cup of instant noodles on the table in front of Klavier. “Hope you life beef. It’s hot,” he warned. Klavier looked up at him and forced a smile, nodding in thanks.
They ate their noodles in silence, and Klavier’s arm continued to bother him. This was a special event, he thought. His first visit to a colleague and/or friend’s house. A nice night in with instant noodles and a friendly aura. There was absolutely no reason for his arm to be bugging him this much. He’d driven the feeling away with worse.
Once they were finished, Apollo yawned with an intensity that made his whole body contract, then slumped on the sofa. “I’m pooped,” he muttered. He stood up and walked around the couch, leaning against the back right behind Klavier.
“You can leave if you want, but if you want to stay the night, that’s cool too. Just say the word and i’ll fetch a blanket for you.” Klavier tilted his head back to look at Apollo. He blinked very slowly as he took in the offer. Maybe he needed a good night’s rest to distract himself? It worked before, but never when it was this bad…
He supposed it was worth a shot. “Ja, alright, i’ll stay.” Apollo turned to walk down the hall. He opened a thin closet door and pulled out a black felt blanket. He set it on the back of the couch for Klavier, and Klavier gratefully took it. “I’m turning in for the night then,” he said. “Let me know if you have any complaints.”
Klavier laughed nervously. “I wouldn’t want to wake you,” he said. Apollo held a hand up. “If you need to, i’m not gonna be mad. You’re the guest, remember?”
Klavier shrugged. “If you say so…” he stared down at the blanket and ran his thumb over the fluffy material. “Guten nacht, Herr Forehead.” Apollo nodded at him, and retreated down the hall to his bedroom.
Klavier pulled the blanket over his frame, and struggled to get both his head and feet on the couch. He really was too tall. Still, the blanket was just large enough to cover his feet and come up to his chin, which was pleasant.
He closed his eyes and tried to drift off. When it didn’t work, he wasn’t disappointed. He’d expected it.
He was back at square one. Staring up at the ceiling, a burning pain in his arm. Only this time, he didn’t dissociate. Depersonalization was the least of his problems now. He tossed and turned, trying to ignore the feeling of discomfort trailing up his arm.
The feeling didn’t go away at all, but didn’t quite worsen. It did, however, become more specific. Less like a hazy cloud of smoke, and more like localized patched of fire. The bottom of his thumb felt like it was shaking. The tendon in his wrist itched on the expanse of static plaguing his forearm. The lines in his skin ached.
He could deny it no longer. He needed this aching to stop, and if he had to settle it in the dead of night, then Verdammit, he would.
He got up from the couch and slunk into the kitchen. He could look for a box cutter of some kind, or a letter opener, but with such an obvious tool in his sight, the search felt worthless. He grabbed the first handle he could reach in the block. and pulled it out.
It was a stout little blade: only about 3 inches long, with an inward facing hook. Klavier couldn’t help but notice how it curved to the shape of his arm. He leaned against the counter of the kitchen, and held the handle in his shaky grip.
He pressed the knife into his skin, and hesitated. He hadn’t done this in years. (Years.) This was going to hurt more than he thought, since he wasn’t used to it much anymore. He pressed a little hard, and winced as he drew the knife across his skin. He looked at his arm carefully. Though the wound stung, and grew red and puffy, there was no blood.
Oh, how funny. You’ve been wanting to do this all day, and you couldn’t even draw blood. Some catharsis, huh?
Klavier shoved the antagonizing thought into the back of his mind. He wanted catharsis? He was gonna give himself catharsis. He pressed the knife into his arm again, digging the hooked tip in, and dragging. It left a clean cut, but not much blood. Klavier felt his whole body begin to shake.
One cut after another, Klavier kept going. He went down his arm, then up to the top, then farther down again, in no order, no rhyme or reason. He chose the locations as he went, almost like it was some fucked up painting: A cut here, a cut there… In his blind frustration, Klavier hadn’t noticed how bad the cuts actually became; blood was beginning to drip down his arm in considerable amounts due to the mere amount and condition of the cuts. He barely noticed he’d begun to make quite a bit of noise with all his hissing in pain.
Klavier did notice, however, the sound of a door opening.
The arm was pulled tightly to his chest, likely getting blood all over his shirt. He didn’t care in his panic. What were you supposed to do when someone went on a self-harm spree in your own home, with your own knife? Klavier felt second hand embarrassment for Apollo. He felt fear at what his response would be.
Klavier felt his breath come into his lungs rapid and shallow. His teeth chattered together as his whole body trembled. He barely noticed Apollo round the corner. He heard his voice clearly in his ears though.
“Klavier? Klavier!” Apollo slid down onto the floor in front of Klavier, eyes full of the same fear Klavier was feeling.”What’s happening? Why are you freaking out?”
Klavier didn’t know what to do. His throat wouldn’t open, the tears were already falling. All he wanted to do was apologize for putting Apollo in this situation.
“Why did you put me in this situation?”
Klavier pulled the hoodie sleeves tightly over his arms. He hadn’t meant for Kristoph to see the scars on his arm. His sleeves had just slipped down his arm, and before he knew it, his brother had stormed right over.
“Why did you do this to yourself?” His voice was stern and crude. “You know this solves absolutely nothing? What changed because of this? What did this make better?”
Klavier felt tears pooling in his eyes. “I don’t know. I don’t know.”
Kristoph grabbed Klavier’s arm and rolled his sleeves up. He pressed a thumb to one of the fresh cuts, making Klavier wince. Kristoph muttered to himself. “I just don’t get it, Klavier. You’ve got a wonderful education, a wonderful home, secure finances… you have no reason to be doing this.”
“I’m sorry,” Klavier sobbed. He pulled his arm away from Kristoph, hugging it to his body. “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry!”
Kristoph glared. “You know, people would kill to have your life. Why do this, after everything i’ve done for you? Everything i’ve sacrificed to get you this far? Why hurt yourself?”
Klavier backed up, digging his knuckles into his eyes, “I don’t know! I’m sorry!”
Kristoph sighed in annoyance. “Clean yourself up. I’ll be collecting all harmful items in the house. You aren’t to be allowed around another razor until this behavior ceases.” He turned to exit the room, grabbing the door handle and swinging it open. He paused in the doorway, and murmured to himself, something Klavier wasn’t supposed to hear.
“Ungrateful brother…”
“Klavier!”
Klavier was pulled back into reality, where everything changed, bar the tears afflicting his eyesight and the sting of fresh injuries. Apollo held a hand in the air between them, patient and respectful of Klavier’s space. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
Klavier’s labored breathing kept him from speaking, so his answer was to slowly raise the knife in his hands. Once it was in Apollo’s view, his eyes opened wide, and something reflected how Klavier felt within them.
Panic.
“Klavier, did you hurt yourself?”
Klavier couldn’t open his mouth to respond, his jaw was clenched shut, so he just nodded. Apollo opened his hand, reaching out. “Let me see.”
Klavier flinched, pushing himself as far back against the cabinet as he could, wincing as he pressed his wounded arm closer to his chest. Apollo drew his hand back, assessing the situation. “Can you put the knife down?”
Klavier stared at Apollo, then down at the knife in his hands. There were still traces of blood on the tip and edge. He set it down shakily on the floor. The moment his hand returned to cradle his injured arm, Apollo took the knife and got up to set it in the sink.
He turned next to Klavier. “Stay right there, okay? Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”
Once Apollo was gone, Klavier felt immediately more panicked. Where was Apollo going? What was he doing? Scouring the house for every letter opener, every shaving razor, every pencil sharpener, every tac? Was he going to call Edgeworth, and tell him Klavier hurt himself? Was Klavier going to be fired for his emotional shortcomings?
The thoughts kept coming until Apollo returned only half a minute later. He had a first aid kit and a bottle of hydrogen peroxide in his hands. He sat down in front of Klavier, putting his things on the floor.
Again, he held out his hand, farther from Klavier’s space. “Can I please see your injury?” Klavier just stared at Apollo, not knowing how to act. Apollo tilted his head down, scooting just a hair closer. “I need to clean and dress it. It could get infected.
Klavier stared at Apollo’s hand, and he raised a trembling arm up for Apollo to see. Shame rose in Klavier’s heart as Apollo hissed at the sight: roughly 20 cuts were spread out across Klavier’s entire forearm, focused towards the top mostly. The blood was smeared from being pressed to his chest, but still running.
Klavier expected his arm to be yanked forward for a better look at the disaster, but Apollo’s touch on the inside on his wrist was very gentle. He guided Klavier’s arm forward, and held it in place.
Apollo reached down into the first aid kit to grab a sterile cotton pad. Uncapping the hydrogen peroxide, he pressed the pad to it and tipped the bottle on its side. Apollo set the bottle down, and returned to gently touching Klavier’s wrist. “This is going to sting, so fair warning.”
Klavier hissed as the cotton was pressed to his arm. Apollo wiped the cuts clean carefully, making sure not to press down too hard. He had to stop and get a second cotton pad after a while, since the first was so covered in blood it was unusable.
After the cut was clean, Apollo took wrapping bandages and started at the base of Klavier’s arm. At this point. Klavier’s tremors were beginning to calm down, but they were still present enough to make it a little bit difficult. It was slightly calming to watch the bandages go around his arm, one layer, then another, just for safety.
Apollo used a piece of bandage tape to keep the wrappings together, and once it was done, he held Klavier’s arm in place. Klavier’s breathing was still labored, and he looked up at Apollo’s face. He met his eyes, a warm brown full of concern and care.
“You wanna talk about this?” Apollo asked. Klavier shook his head- speaking was still so difficult. Apollo nodded. “Okay. You good being on the couch still?”
Klavier thought back to how he felt, staring up at the ceiling, tracing every aching part of his forearm. The ache was gone, but at what cost? He finally opened his mouth to speak. “I don’t wanna be alone.”
Apollo bit the corner of his bottom lip, and nodded. “Alright. You need help getting up?” Klavier nodded. His body still felt like he was in an earthquake, and any wrong step may send him toppling over.
An arm reached around Klavier’s back, supporting him and he stood up with Apollo. They walked together like that out of the kitchen, and down the hall to Apollo’s bedroom.
Klavier clung to the arm that wasn’t wrapped around his shoulders, and Apollo clung back. Apollo helped Klavier sit down on the bed, and Klavier felt a little better after sinking into the mattress.
Klavier made himself lay down, still holding his own arm close to his chest. With his other hand now free, Apollo making his way to the other side of the bed, Klavier traced his bandages. This was more clean up than he usually did after he hurt himself.
The bed sunk with Apollo’s weight, and the corner of a blanket was tossed around Klavier. He gripped the blanket tightly with one hand, pulling it over him. The tremors and panic were gone; now, he just felt exhausted and ashamed.
Apollo turned on his side to brush Klavier’s arm. Klavier couldn’t take it. He shifted forward and pressed himself into Apollo’s frame. He felt like if he had the energy, He’d be crying fountains of tears again.
After a moment’s hesitation, Apollo pulled Klavier closer. He rested a hand on Klavier’s head, petting his hair soothingly. Klavier sighed, and whether it was from exhaustion or content, Klavier felt a lot better afterwards.
He moved his injured arm carefully, wrapping it around Apollo’s back, and resting it on his shoulder. He felt the weight of the day’s struggles crushing him, but instead of floating away to escape it, he focused on what he knew was real; Apollo’s hand softly caressing his head, threading his fingers through his hair, frazzled with emotion, in an attempt to calm Klavier.
Klavier allowed his eyes to be pulled close, letting Apollo’s warmth lull him to sleep.