Goodbye

by Crescend

Miles had been frantic with worry after he'd disappeared, but if Phoenix knew anything, it was that Klavier Gavin was not the type to let anything drive him to the point of becoming suicidal.

He hoped, at least.

The boy's luck had gone from bad to worse in a short span of time, and every time Phoenix looked at him, he could see just how much he'd been a part of that destruction. Despite Edgeworth's caring, despite the friendship that Trucy and Apollo seemed to attempt to provide, it was all a reminder.

He'd been torturing Klavier Gavin for all this time with that very reminder that these were the very people involved with taking away everything the young prosecutor had known for most of his life.

He knew he oughtn't have cared, but it wasn't like him to not care. It wasn't like him to look away when he saw the younger man who really was as much a tool in this entire turn of events as he'd made himself, sitting there in that corner with his face buried in his hands where he thought no one could see him.

And it certainly wasn't like him to not go up and offer a hand on their shoulder, when that person, while being a major part of who he was now, was doing his best to keep from shaking at the latest bit of information they'd learnt-- the appeal had fallen through, the execution date was set.

Klavier hadn't said anything to him that suggested he didn't want him near. He'd been around them after that fateful case those two years ago, he'd been trying to make amends, only to get punished for them again. And now Phoenix realised he wanted to say he didn't deserve it, but it was far too late.

So he drew the younger prosecutor close until he could move his face into his hair, seated next to him with his arm around him in an awkward embrace-- not the kind he'd give Trucy, not the loving hold with which he'd touch Edgeworth, but one that he hoped would convey his own sympathy. He gave him that much trust, and it was more than what he could ask for and in a soft voice, he whispered, "I'm sorry."

And when Klavier's hand came and covered the hand that Phoenix had drawn to his cheek, he hoped that he wasn't going to draw it away. But all Klavier did was hold on, his hold growing tighter until he couldn't hold on any more.

It was all they had left after everything else they'd let go of, anyway.