Turnabout Innocence

by the Legendary Armor

Chapter Three: Cherished Riposte

"I can feel his approach, like fire in my blood..."

The uneasy silence that followed was broken by the judge clearing his throat, remorse evident in his voice. "I hate to ask, but when would Mr. Justice be able to testify? Whatever information he could give us would be vital to this case..."

Ema's expression grew darker, more angry; not at the judge, but at the world. "...If he makes it... maybe in a few days, I don't really know. He told us a few things before he fell unconscious--he's named Bryan Reeve as the killer, Vincent Solomon as an accomplice and Mira Decano as innocent." She glared at Klavier, though her usual hatred was somewhat lessened with sympathy. "The last thing he said before he lost consciousness was that he wanted to see you, for some reason. God only knows why." Turning, she looked back at the judge. "We've captured Bryan Reeve, and the forensic team is searching the area for evidence as we speak."

"...I see. Then we have no choice but to postpone the trial until we receive word on the defense attorney's condition, upon which it will be decided if he takes the stand as the prosecution's final witness. Court is adjourned!"

Trucy walked sadly out of the dimly lit room, clinging to her father's arm. "Daddy, we can come back to visit tomorrow, right, like the nurse said? Since he's going to be fine...?"

Smiling down weakly at the magician, Phoenix nodded. "Of course." He walked her through the quiet hallways of the clinic, wishing the heaviness on his daughter's heart could be taken onto his own burden. A shred of guilt floated into his thoughts; he was glad Trucy had gone to the office before Apollo left the courthouse, glad that it was the attorney instead of the little girl that got hurt. He rationalized it by thinking of Apollo's strength; if this had been Trucy instead, she would have already died, or worse. The very thought of it sent icy shivers down the pianist's spine. And yet he still wondered if he should have allowed Trucy to come anywhere near Apollo yet... the defense attorney was not looking his best, to put it nicely.

Klavier Gavin was about to see for himself.

As Phoenix and Trucy made their way through the clinic's doors, they passed the blond prosecutor, who was heading inside. He walked quickly, and his eyes were dulled with the madness of savage worry. Looking behind her shoulder for a moment at the man rushing through the doors, Trucy said quietly, "Daddy, I think that Prosecutor Gavin is suffering even more than we are."

He caught her gaze, and asked slowly, "Why is that?"

She looked up at the sky and replied, "Because he likes him even more than we do, and he hasn't even gotten to see him since court yesterday." She looked back to her father, and said,

"After all... Apollo made him smile when nothing else could."

Shadows clung to the corners of the sanitized room, but that had no place in Klavier's thoughts. Rather, he sat gingerly in the chair by the single bed within the area, clasping his hands together in front of his face as he stared mournfully at the current owner of the various machines hooked up to his body. Apollo slept quietly, and the peace on his face disturbed the musician more than he liked.

His face... the left side was swollen and purpled. He could see various bruises and a few small scrapes along the younger man's arms, but the rest of his body was carefully covered with a white sheet. The silence in the room was broken by Apollo's slow, steady breathing, and Klavier's, which was slightly more erratic. Resisting the intense urge to touch the attorney's hand, he simply sat there, watching the bedridden brunette and thinking to himself.

Quietly, sleep began to take him as he sat there, and his lids grew heavy with weariness.

It was not the voice of a nurse that woke him, nor the footsteps of a passerby. It was the gentle, questioning touch of a hand upon his leg. Tired blue eyes opened slowly, blinking in the light. The sight before him left him suddenly much more awake... and relieved.

Apollo watched him curiously with lively, if weary eyes. A slight smile graced his lips as his vision focused. "Y-you... came," he whispered, his voice strained but delighted. Tears brimmed at the corners of his eyes as he gazed into the musician's stare. "I'm so... glad..." His hand, which was somewhat paler than usual, found itself warmed by Klavier's own palms.

Heart swelling with emotion at the words, Klavier smiled beautifully. "It's nothing, you know that... How are you?" Concern etched into his features. "I heard them say the most terrible things about you yesterday." I don't think my heart can take so much, he thought to himself.

Chocolate eyes darkened with fear so recently tasted that it still lingered inside of him. "I feel... a lot better now." He paused, as though struggling to find the words. "I didn't want... to die. I-I... never gave up, but I was... I just wanted... to see your face."

"But of course. Who wouldn't?" The teasing, which Apollo was so used to, made him smile a little more despite the fading terror in his eyes; it was from the memories of the previous night, the musician was certain. "Listen, Herr Forehead... The judge wants you to testify, as my final witness. As soon as you can--" He stopped, curious as to where the sudden little smile on Apollo's face had come from, the faint blush on his unbruised cheek, the laughter in his medicine-dulled eyes. "Is there something I've said to make you flush as though you think of kissing me?"

Classical fluster came back to Apollo's expression, injured as he was. "I wasn't... no. Nothing," he replied, his voice still too quiet and weak for Klavier's liking.

"You're a sad liar, and an even sadder one when your thinking is slowed by pain medications, ja?"

Apollo's gaze flickered back to Klavier's. "Well, it's just... you said I was... your final witness..."

"Yes?"

"...'My Boyfriend is the Prosecution's Witness'," he said softly, blushing.

A heavy pause, before Klavier said with amusement, "You consider yourself to be my boyfriend, Herr Forehead?"

"N-no, that's not... I mean..." Suddenly, Apollo found himself very interested in the drip of his IV. Drip, drip, drip. Wow, just look at it go--

"Oh, but I think that is what you meant." Klavier squeezed Apollo's hand without realizing it, and the brunette felt a calming warmth inside firmly take hold even further at their current situation. "Or, at least, it's what you want." He smiled disarmingly. "Why don't you visit me after the trial is over?"

Looking confused, the attorney asked, "Visit you...?"

"You'll need help recovering as it is, and I'm certain that my place is much nicer than yours."

"You make it sound as if... you want me to stay for a while..." Apollo whispered. "That's... not exactly a visit."

Klavier laughed, for the first time in a while. "Whatever you want to call it, Herr Forehead, I won't take no for an answer. I can't let you out of my sight; you have the most amazing tendency to get yourself into trouble."

"T-this is the first time!" he objected weakly.

"It was bad enough to count for a million times. I want to make sure you heal," the prosecutor replied sadly. "Just say yes. It'll save me the trouble of convincing you."

Smiling weakly, the attorney replied, "I wasn't... planning on saying no, anyway."

"I call the prosecution's decisive witness to the stand--Apollo Justice!"

As seriously as Klavier had tried to say it, quite a bit of the courtroom broke out into giggles. Looking confused, the judge inquired, "What on earth is so funny about Apollo Justice testifying for the prosecution?" More giggles. Apollo stood from the bench behind Klavier, who helped him limp to the stand.

He stood, ready, though he was certainly worse for wear. It had only been four days since he'd been hospitalized; bandages decorated his visible skin. He wore his usual suit, and a determined expression; an expression decorated with fading bruises. As the testimony began, his courage never wavered.

"After meeting Bryan Reeve outside the courthouse, I followed him back to the warehouse in the slums. It was there that he knocked me out with a punch to the face." It was certainly believable; even after several days, the mass of purplish blue was still moderately fresh on the entire left side of his visage. "When I woke up, he was angry. Very angry. A while had passed; I'd been unconscious for several hours, from the looks of the clock he had on the wall. He started yelling about how I was going to ruin his life, telling me what happened with Mira and Lynn was none of my business."

"Did he tell you anything about the case?"

"I prodded him, and he told me the whole story. He said since I was going to die anyway, it didn't matter; that it would be better, since I'd be tormented with knowing the truth would never come to light before dying." The attorney shifted uncomfortably. "He kept hitting me once in a while, as he spoke. After he wore himself down, he tied me up a bit, locked all the doors and went to bed."

"What did he tell you about the case?" Hursting asked.

"Mira and Lynn Decano were walking home when they saw him shoot a man; his name was Deryl, if I recall correctly. Bryan panicked and shot Lynn, and then decided to use Mira for extortion; he was going to blackmail her for what little money she had, as well as... favors. But then, someone called the police. Bryan told Mira to take the fall, or he'd kill her parents and five-year-old brother. She agreed to the deal."

"When the rescue team showed up, what happened?" Hursting asked. "We understand that they broke down the door, and you started running. Is that right? I thought you said you were tied up."

"My hands were, behind my back. I was a room away from them when I started running; Bryan's first shot missed, and the second hit me in the right leg. After that, a member of the force began firing shots, and Bryan dropped his gun when one hit him in the arm. A member of the rescue team slung me over his back and ran with me out of the building; they already had an ambulance waiting."

"They retrieved Bryan's gun from the scene," Klavier quipped, "and the rifling marks of the bullet pulled from Apollo's leg match the gun, as well as the bullet that ended Lynn Decano's life. Bryan Reeve's fingerprints covered the .22 caliber, and no one else's." Smiling wickedly, he added, "And these notes that were sent to me, as well as our dear attorney's badge? The fingerprints all belong to Bryan Reeve."

"That'll do," the judge announced, ringing his gavel. "I believe there is sufficient information for the jury to come to a decision."

The decision was both quick and unanimous.

Mira Decano: Innocent

Bryan Reeve: Guilty

Right after the trial, Apollo had spoken to Trucy and Phoenix about staying at Klavier's for a month or so until he recovered. After sly comments and a fit of giggles from the pair, the defense attorney and prosecutor left--thankfully in Klavier's car instead of his motorcycle. It had taken them a while to get to Klavier's room once they got to the house; the place was large and extravagant. Apollo stood from his wheelchair, shakily, and nearly stumbled. Catching him, the musician smirked before pulling him into a light embrace from behind. "Must I hold onto you to keep you from falling?"

"Uh... N-no... I mean, not that I mind--" Klavier took him by the arm, helping onto the bed. He took a few books from the bag on the back of the wheelchair, then set them on the dresser next to the bed, grinning as he looked at a few of the titles.

"You read interesting fiction, Herr Forehead. And a sketchbook? I never knew you liked to draw."

"I just doodle a bit. It was a gift from Trucy."

Laughing a little, the musician sat on the edge of the bed, right next to its first occupant. "I hope you'll like it here, Apollo." The brunette started a bit, and blushed at the use of his name, but nodded.

After all, Klavier thought to himself, I doubt I'll ever want you to leave.

To be continued in Chapter Four