Archive of Our Own ^beta

Apollo thumbed through a case file at his desk, looking over it one last time before storing it away with the rest of his closed cases. Even though he’d already gotten his client released after three nail-biting days in court, he always liked reviewing the full case. He saw the false premises that led him astray in the beginning of investigations and made notes in the margins for his own future reference, then put them away neatly into his filing cabinet, organized by the type and severity of the charges (a disturbing amount of first-degree murder, honestly), verdict, and then alphabetized by client.

It was a vastly difference process from Mr. Wright, who threw his case files into a pile under his desk until he eventually got around to stuffing them into folders with the client’s last name hastily written on the front. Athena put her cases onto Mr. Wright’s shelf of half-sorted cases and kept track of them only with a small sparkly notebook on her desk where she wrote down where she’d stuffed each folder and “helpful titles” to remember them by, such as “Courtroom EXPLOSION” or “Jinxie’s dad got framed”. One day, Apollo was finally going to snap and actually organize all of the Agency’s files, if only to save himself the headache of Athena and Mr. Wright yelling across the office about lost papers.

It was a thankfully slow day in the office of the Wright Anything Agency. Christmas was only a few weeks away, and they didn’t have anything lined up to disturb the holiday, unless Mr. Wright planned on solving another Christmas Eve murder (“See, they thought it was a Christmas murder, but the radio said ‘almost Christmas’. I honestly can’t believe Larry’s testimony ended up useful,” Mr. Wright had told him no less than five separate times).

“Apollo!” Athena yelled from her desk, breaking him out of thoughts about filing and proper pre-investigation preparations. “I need help!”

She didn’t sound distressed, so Apollo took the time to put the file in its place before crossing the office to her desk, stepping across the debris of Trucy’s latest experimental tricks.

“What’s wrong? Another paperwork emergency?” He leaned against her desk and poked at one of her GYAXA bobblehead astronauts.

“No! This is much more serious.” Athena gave him a stern looked as she turned her laptop to face him. A picture of a large bird wearing a colorful knit sweater took up most of the screen. “Do you think a sweater for Taka is a good Christmas gift for Simon, or is that Taka’s gift and I should get Simon something else?” Apparently, not buying the sweater wasn’t an option.

Apollo took a moment to imagine Prosecutor Blackquill’s hawk swooping down onto him in court, complete with an eye-searing sweater. He doubted it would make Taka’s talons any less sharp.

“I think you may be the only person on the planet who could get away with giving that to Prosecutor Blackquill,” he decided. “He might even use it if you get the samurai-themed one.”

“Naturellement. He may be a big cranky loner, but he loves two things: Taka and swords.” Athena grinned as she added the sweater to her cart. “It’s his first Christmas out of prison and I’m gonna make him happy if it kills him.”

Apollo’s mouth quirked into a smile in spite of himself at the image of Blackquill being bombarded by the concentrated might of Athena spreading Christmas cheer. “Good luck with that.”

“Oh! Are we talking about Christmas plans?” Trucy’s voice rang out from the hallway, and she emerged a moment later, followed by Mr. Wright, who was laden down with a massive bundle of shopping bags.

“Daddy and I just finished our Christmas shopping!” she announced as Mr. Wright groaned and dropped the bags onto the last free spot of the barely-functioning couch. “Papa’s throwing a big family dinner with Aunt Franziska and Aunt Maya and Pearl.”

“Mia might even drop in at some point if Pearls is up for it,” Mr. Wright added, as if it was totally normal to have a ghost over for a family dinner. He stretched and his back cracked loudly. “Ugh, I’m getting too old to be lugging this stuff around. Apollo, mind moving it into my office? I’m hiding it here so Miles won’t see it around the house.”

“Sure thing, Mr. Wright,” Apollo said, grabbing a few bags. There sure were a lot of them. Must be nice having such a big family to bring together for holidays. He was pretty sure he saw a whip sitting inside one of the bags, and decided not to question it. By the time he was done with the bags, Athena and Trucy were excitedly sharing holiday plans.

“And then I’m gonna ask Aunt Franziska to teach me how to use a whip because I have this idea for a trick—” Trucy cut herself off as she saw Apollo approach and waved him over. “Polly! What are you doing for Christmas?”

Apollo throat closed for a moment. He usually spent Christmas with Clay, watching old sci-fi and eating junk food. This would be his first year… without him. He’d been enjoying the general air of holiday cheer, but he’d actively avoided thinking about what he would do on the day itself. “I don’t have any plans yet.”

He couldn’t help but notice the way Athena tilted her head. Hopefully the discord in his voice was small enough that she’d just let it go.

“You should come to our Christmas dinner, then!” Trucy said, clapping her hands together. “You and Papa always get along when you’re at the Prosecutors’ Office. I’m sure he’d love having a real conversation with you! And he’s a great cook, too!”

“Yeah, we’d love to have you,” Mr. Wright added with a warm smile. “Just try not to get Miles too into his rants about law. He’ll give you the entire history of at least seven foreign countries’ law practices and how they compare to ours. We try to keep work talk to a minimum at family parties. Maya’s rule.”

“Oh, that’s very nice of you,” Apollo said, his face suddenly feeling warm. “But I really couldn’t intrude.”

“What? You wouldn’t be intruding, Polly.” Trucy grabbed onto his arm in the way she did when she was begging him to be her assistant for magic tricks.

“It’s your family thing. Really, it’s fine.” Apollo tugged his arm uselessly. Trucy’s grip wasn’t tight, but it wasn’t budging one bit.

“But you could be part of our family.” Trucy pushed her lower lip out in a pout. “You shouldn’t be all alone on Christmas.”

Alarm bells were starting to ring in the back of Apollo’s mind. This was not a conversation he wanted to get into. He wasn’t sure how long he’d last before saying something he’d regret. “Trucy, I’m not…” He didn’t know how to finish.

“It really wouldn’t be an intrusion,” Mr. Wright saved him from having to complete his sentence, only to deepen his discomfort: “I mean, I consider you kids to be like family already. I’d invite Athena too if she didn’t have plans.”

Apollo opened his mouth only for nothing to come out. Mr. Wright was trying to be nice, he knew that, but that didn’t change the cold feeling coiling around his heart. Trucy tugged on his arm again and it felt like she was pulling his entire world sideways. If he didn’t get back on his feet, he’d fall right off of it.

“I really can’t,” he said once more. Maybe if he kept repeating it, everything would be fine. He was fine.

“Why not?” Trucy whined, leaning against him. She was putting on a show, the way she always did when she wanted Apollo to do something. He’d never figured out how to say no to her when she pulled out the crocodile tears, but he’d have to figure it out, fast. “Come on Polly, name one good reason you can’t come!”

His heart stuttered, not just because of Trucy tugging on his heartstrings, but because an answer was already formed in the darkest corner of his mind, and it was desperately clawing its way forward. He pushed it back down where it belonged, but not fast enough.

“Apollo?” Mr. Wright’s voice was soft. It was the voice he used with clients that were scared and lonely and needed someone to be there for them. Apollo couldn’t meet his eyes, but he did see that Mr. Wright’s hand had drifted to his pocket, the one he kept his magatama in.

Oh no, he had Psyche-Locks, didn’t he? That was fine. He was fine.

Trucy immediately pulled away from him, her playfully heartbroken façade fading away as quickly as it had come on. “Polly?”

He had to answer. His mouth wouldn’t cooperate with him. The longer he stayed silent, the longer they would think things aren’t fine. Which wasn’t true, because Everything. Was. Fine.

“You don’t have to hide anything from us, Apollo,” Mr. Wright said. “You know that, right?”

“I’m not your family.” His voice was too soft, but he couldn’t make it any louder. He was completely abandoned by his Chords of Steel. “We aren’t family.”

“That doesn’t matter.” Trucy furrowed her eyebrows. “You don’t have to be related to us to be family.” Her touch returned to his shoulder, but it was different this time. It didn’t demand his attention, pull and prod and persuade him to go along with Trucy’s plans. It was gentle and solid, easy to escape but never shying away from him.

There was no way to explain the panic buzzing around in his head. It didn’t make sense. There were no words for how much he loved and feared exactly what she was trying to convince him of. Half-formed memories came to him unbidden, and he pushed them down before he could even comprehend what they were.

“I don’t want—” he tried, but his voice gave out.

“You don’t want family?” Athena spoke for the first time in a while. Her expression was strained, and she covered Widget’s face, though Apollo could see the blue light peeking out between her fingers. Whether Widget was reading his or Athena’s emotions, he wasn’t sure.

“No, that’s not…”

“You don’t feel that way about us?” Trucy sounded like she was trying not to cry, and it almost made Apollo collapse on the spot. “That’s—that’s okay, Polly. You don’t have to—”

“No!” He grabbed her hand on his shoulder before she pulled it away. “I just…!”

“Why don’t you want us to be your family?” That was just like Mr. Wright, cutting to the heart of it with unexpected insightfulness. His gaze was soft but calculating. There was no lying to him when he was like this. He could be goofy and a little bit oblivious at the best of times, but when it came to things that mattered, he could always tell what was true.

“Because…” Suddenly, Apollo was ten and stomping his foot in the living room of his third foster home because they were sending him away again and it was unfair. “Because it’s you and it’s being my family and…”

My family always leaves me.

“I can’t… I’m not good at family.”

I’m never enough for them to stay.

“Polly, we love you.” Trucy’s hand tightened around his shoulder for a moment, then relaxed. “You’re great at being a part of this family already.”

Apollo shook his head vehemently, like he was trying to will the entire office away. “This isn’t a family. I care about you and you’re all great but it’s not family and it doesn’t help to pretend.”

“We’re not pretending,” Mr. Wright said. “It’s okay to let people care about you, Apollo. We won’t leave.” There he went again, pulling the exact thread that unraveled the deepest knots hidden within Apollo’s heart.

“Exactly!” Apollo’s voice suddenly decided to give him back his usual volume, growing high and hysterical. He didn’t want to be hysterical. “Every family I’ve had has fallen apart and so this can’t be a family!”

I don’t want to lose you, too.

Trucy was speaking at his shoulder, but his ears had started buzzing too loud to hear. He couldn’t look at the three concerned faces that pinned him to the ground, so he stared at his shoes instead.

“I can’t join a new family! It would either feel like I’m pretending or like I’m just waiting for you to leave.” He wasn’t sure when he had started crying, but his cheeks were wet. He finally forced his head up. “I care about you, but I’ve been left behind by every person who called me family and you can’t change that. I’ve learned to live with it. I’ve been doing it for years. It’s fine.” He smiled and shrugged his shoulders, and tried desperately to ignore the way Athena winced and brought a hand up to cover one of her ears. Only a truly terrible amount of discord caused her pain these days.

“Oh, Apollo,” Mr. Wright stepped forward, reaching for Apollo’s free shoulder. “I had no idea you felt that way.” His face was unreadable, a million hidden thoughts behind his intelligent eyes.

“It’s not your fault.” Apollo’s throat felt tight. Then, his bracelet felt tight. Confusion momentarily overtook the turmoil of other emotions swirling around in his head.

Mr. Wright was twisting his wedding band around with his thumb. He hadn’t spoken, so how was he lying? He looked up into Mr. Wright’s face and saw his eyes on Apollo’s bracelet.

“So, what’s my tell?” he asked with a sad smile.

“No…” Apollo felt a phantom of Mr. Wright’s jaw against his fist, a reminder from a small, dark part of his mind that Mr. Wright had taken advantage of his trust once before. It whispered that he should’ve known better, that he’d trusted a liar once again and was going to pay the price.

“I’m not abandoning you,” Mr. Wright said with a firm squeeze to Apollo’s shoulder. His bracelet went slack, a small comfort. “I just… There’s something I haven’t told you. I was waiting for the right time, but if I knew you were feeling this way, I would’ve done it much sooner.”

Apollo’s entire body went numb, bracing for some disaster it always knew was coming. He’d gotten too close despite his best efforts and everything was going to crash down around him.

“I think we should all take a seat,” Mr. Wright continued. He pushed a large plush bunny off the couch and onto the floor, making enough room for two to sit. Apollo let himself be lowered onto the couch as Mr. Wright sat next to him. Trucy sat on the floor in front of them and Athena dragged her desk chair over.

No one spoke, and Mr. Wright folded his hands in front of him, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. He was staring at a point on the floor, that same look of a million different thoughts flitting across his eyes.

“I’m not sure if there’s a good way to say this,” he started, “but you deserve to know. I know who your mother is.”

Apollo blinked a few times, trying to make the words make sense in his head. “What? How…?” He suddenly remembered Mr. Wright’s earlier words about waiting for the right time. “How long have you known?”

Guilt flashed across Mr. Wright’s face. “That’s not a simple answer.”

Apollo’s cheek grew warm, anger starting to prickle at the back of his neck. “What do you mean?” he demanded. “Of course it is! How long have you known?!”

Mr. Wright sighed. He turned to face Apollo with that same soft kindness that now grated against his nerves. “I had a… suspicion for a long time. The day I first saw you at Gavin Law Offices, I had a hunch… But I didn’t really know until shortly after the Misham trial.”

Apollo stood abruptly. “The Misham trial? You knew since the Misham trial?!” His breath came fast and uneven. Hot tears pricked at the corners of his eyes. “What… What is this even supposed to mean now? Knowing who left me isn’t going to change anything!”

Mr. Wright didn’t break eye contact or flinch at Apollo’s raised voice. He just sat there, calm and collected, and that made it so much worse. “Because she was Thalassa Grammarye.”

Trucy’s gasp broke the tense staring match between Mr. Wright and Apollo. “Mama…?”

Forget falling off the side of his world, Apollo’s world had completely disintegrated beneath him and left him utterly directionless. He stared at Trucy, uncomprehending.

“Then… Do you know…?” Trucy hesitated as she looked up into Mr. Wright’s eyes. “Grandpa always said ‘gone’, never ‘dead’… Is she…?”

“Alive,” Mr. Wright said breathily, like it took all the air he had.

“Then where is she?” Apollo said, his voice low. “Why isn’t she here?”

Mr. Wright met his eyes again, and the guilty expression returned. “I can’t tell you that.”

Apollo’s shaking hands clenched into fists. Dried tears sat forgotten on his cheeks. “What?” His voice was on the edge of a growl.

“She has secrets that aren’t mine to tell. For a long time, she didn’t know you were here, and when she found out, she had things she needed to do on her own before she came back. She promised to return and explain everything, and as long as I believe she will keep that promise, I can’t tell you.”

“Then what is the point of telling me anything!” Out of the corner of his eye, Apollo saw Athena shrink back in her chair. “Now instead of just being left behind as a baby, I know she doesn’t even want to come back now!”

“That’s not—” Mr. Wright started.

“What am I supposed to feel? You just proved my point about not being good enough for a family and lied to me on top of it!” He was shouting over Mr. Wright now, who only continued to look at him with concern and empathy. It made him want to scream.

“I don’t expect you to forgive her. Or me, though I hope one day you can understand why I kept it to myself as long as I did. And maybe when she returns, you can hear her out, too.” Mr. Wright ran a hand through his hair, his usually pristine gelled spikes now in disarray. He looked more like the Phoenix Wright that Apollo first met, lost and jaded. “I told you because you needed to know that you do have family that has stuck with you no matter what. Someone who has never pushed you away, and tried to make you feel loved and bring you closer into her family.”

Mr. Wright looked away from Apollo, and he followed his gaze to see Trucy on the floor. Realization was dawning on her face as she met Apollo’s eyes. There was something fragile in her eyes, a look he had only seen once before in the Detention Center when she thought she might have been responsible for Mr. Mistree’s death.

“Polly?” Her voice was unsure, like she was asking permission to speak.

Holy Mother, Trucy was his sister.

He took a step back, and Trucy’s hands shook. He felt like he’d just been dunked into cold water. There was no way that Trucy’s sharp eyes couldn’t see the confusion and distress on his face. She bit her lower lip and Apollo wanted to both run to her and disappear.

“I don’t…” His mind spun, everything around him a blur aside from Trucy’s slowing wavering expression. “Truce…”

Trucy stood and took a tentative step closer to Apollo. She swallowed and picked at her gloves. “I-it’s okay, Polly… You don’t have to… do anything you don’t want to.”

He couldn’t think. He needed air. He stumbled backwards another step and hated the way Trucy’s eyebrows knitted together as she concentrated on not crying.

“No, Truce, it’s not that I don’t want…” He reached forward towards her, but then pulled back. “I just need to think about this. I’m not upset about you. Everything is just… too much right now.”

Trucy nodded, but her eyes shone with unshed tears. Mr. Wright stood and put a hand on her shoulder. She leaned into his side and clutched his suit jacket. Apollo was still half-furious at him beneath everything else, but he was at least grateful that someone was there for Trucy while he attempted to stop his brain from spiraling too far out of control.

He moved towards the door, passing Athena on her desk chair. She stood and opened her mouth to say something, but Apollo shook his head at her. “Not now.”

She backed away and let him grab his coat and head out into the gray afternoon. He didn’t even grab his bike at the front of the office, instead breaking into a run through the freezing mist. His crystallized breath mingled with the thin white frost layered over the city. His feet pounded on the pavement as he dashed further downtown.

There were few people out on such a cold and dreary day, so he didn’t have to worry about running into anyone as he clumsily tore through the streets. All of the pent-up energy swirling around in his brain was released as his muscles began to ache. He wiped the tears off his cheeks before they froze to his face.

His foot caught a slick patch of ice and he went down hard, hitting his elbow against the sidewalk and sliding a few feet before collapsing onto the ground. He curled up against the cold concrete and clutched the sides of his head.

Old wounds opened up along with new, twisted feelings. Every time he’d been left or forgotten or sent away multiplied into a torrent of anger and fear and loneliness. He choked on a sob.

For several long minutes, he let the pain wash over him in waves. He kept muttering to himself, so softly that he was mostly just mouthing the words, “I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m fine. I’m Apollo Justice and I’m fine.”

When he had finally calmed enough to feel the chill in his bones, he pushed himself into a sitting position. The raw emotions had died down, and left him with a cacophony of questions. Many were about his mother and her secrets, but the most persistent were about the past few years and how much of them he spent knowing less about himself than he could have.

He stood unsteadily and began to walk aimlessly as he turned over every event since the Misham trial in his mind. Even before then, there was so much that could’ve changed if he had only known about Trucy. And if Mr. Wright knew for sure after the trial, did that mean she was here in the city at the time? He could’ve confronted her, told her that no matter what she had going on, it was no excuse to just leave two kids not knowing whether she was dead or alive.

His walking pace picked up with his thoughts, as his mind dug deeper and deeper into his past with each question. He connected dots and pulled them apart to reconnect them in new ways. Hundreds of possibilities formed before him as he shuddered and pulled his coat tighter around himself.

He looked up to see the building his feet had unconsciously brought him to, one burning question plaguing his mind. He must’ve looked awful as he strode inside purposefully: shivering, red-eyed, and smudged with dirt. It took several long minutes to get through security and enter a place he never thought he’d want to go to: Solitary Cell 13.

Kristoph Gavin sat in the cell, looking as pristine and unbothered as he always did at his desk at Gavin Law Offices. A few loose strands of hair stuck out in odd directions, a looming shadow of his break at the Misham trial. He looked up in interest as the guard opened the cell door and let Apollo inside.

Kristoph’s eyes met Apollo’s, and he raised a delicate eyebrow. “Mr. Justice? Well, this is a surprise.”

“Did you know?”

Kristoph took a moment to regard him. Apollo shifted uncomfortably in place, absurdly aware of his wreck of an appearance. It was remarkably similar to standing in Kristoph’s office, desperate for approval and searching for every sign of judgement from his mentor.

“You’re going to have to be more specific, Mr. Justice.”

Apollo swallowed. “When you hired me, did you know who I am?”

“Ah, you’re referring to being Magnifi Grammarye’s grandson? Of course I knew. I kept a close eye on everyone relevant to the Grammaryes.” Kristoph idly twirled a lock of hair around his finger.

It took all his effort not to sink to his knees right then and there. It was only the thought of Kristoph seeing him collapse that kept him upright.

“Did Wright only just connect those dots?” Kristoph asked with a light laugh. “I suppose I gave him too much credit. I thought that bracelet of yours would’ve given it away much sooner.”

Something in Apollo’s face must’ve shown his heartbreak, because Kristoph tilted his head in interest as his placid smile grew sharper.

“Oh, that’s interesting. He knew for some time, didn’t he? And he kept it from you?” Kristoph’s laugh had a cruel edge this time. “It seems rather than giving him too much credit, I actually underestimated him. Who knew he could be so underhanded?”

“Don’t pretend you didn’t do the exact same thing,” Apollo said through gritted teeth, but he didn’t feel the indignant rage he had before. His insides were hollow and frozen, and not just from the frost still gathered on his clothes.

“And why would I have told you? When you were under my employ, you had never heard of the Grammaryes. You had no connection to them, so it was utterly irrelevant.” Light flashed in his glasses as Kristoph tilted his head, revealing a predatory smile. “Phoenix Wright, on the other hand, adopted your sister and involved you in multiple cases relating to the Grammaryes. At that point, being a Grammarye would have actually meant something to you.”

Apollo’s shoulders shook. “So, what? You’re a better person because you were only interested in keeping an eye on me? That’s why you hired me?”

“Oh, heavens no. Obviously that was an added advantage to having you in my office, but I would never have tolerated an unwanted employee simply to have easier access to your family. It was merely a pleasant bonus to being your mentor.”

Apollo wished his bracelet would tighten, that Kristoph would adjust his glasses and reveal Vera Misham’s dreaded devil, but nothing happened. He was telling the truth. “That’s supposed to make me feel better? I was a good employee as well as a useful pawn?”

“You were a promising young lawyer. And you had the Grammaryes’ sight.” Kristoph tapped the side of his glasses. “If your record is anything to go by, I’d say you’ve made good use of it. I may not have contact with the outside world, but I am allowed the occasional newspaper, and I’ve seen your progress.”

“Grammaryes’ sight…?” Apollo touched his bracelet. If it was really left by Thalassa Grammarye, and if Trucy had a similar power to his… “That’s what my ability is?”

“Wright didn’t even explain that?”

Apollo bit his lower lip. He didn’t try to explain how quickly he had left. Instead, he simply braced himself for whatever snide comment Kristoph would make next.

Kristoph, as always, was loathe to be predictable. “That is why I hired you, Justice. You were already a smart, dedicated law student. On top of that, you had the unique ability to draw truth from the stubbornest of individuals. Anyone with any sense would have seen that you could be a truly excellent attorney.”

In spite of himself, Apollo flushed. It was not often for Kristoph to give out such high praise, and even knowing what kind of person he truly was, Apollo couldn’t help but feel a light flutter in his chest.

“How could I resist being the one to mold that potential? In my own way, I cared about you.” Kristoph’s face turned gentle and nostalgic, like he was thinking fondly back on their time at Gavin Law Offices. It quickly killed the fluttery feeling in Apollo’s chest.

“You didn’t care about me,” he said without venom. It was simply a fact. “You cared about how I could improve your image. A successful protégé makes for a competent mentor.”

“Personally, I don’t see the difference,” Kristoph said flippantly. “I cared about your success and did what I could to advance your skills and career. Is that not the same outcome as your precious new mentor, Wright? Or are we still in question over whether he truly cares for you?”

“That has nothing to do with you.”

“Then why are you here, Mr. Justice?” Kristoph stood, and Apollo was very suddenly reminded of how tall he was. It was easy to look down at him and throw accusations in his face, but he was only now realizing that he was in a very small room with the man who had murdered Trucy’s father—his stepfather? Mr. Wright hadn’t quite gotten to that part—with a single blow to the head.

“Clearly you’re still invested in my opinions, otherwise it wouldn’t matter to you whether or not I knew who you were,” he continued. “Perhaps you were just looking for an excuse to come see your first mentor, and as soon as Wright sufficiently lost enough of your faith, I became the best option.”

“You are not my mentor. I don’t want anything to do with you.” His shoulders curled in defensively, and Apollo hated how weak his voice sounded. Yelling at Mr. Wright was easy, but being around Kristoph somehow just killed something inside of him. He wasn’t sure if he could raise his voice if his life depended on it, which was a particularly chilling thought in the prison cell of a killer.

“Tell me, does that bracelet of yours react to the lies coming out of your own mouth?” Kristoph leaned forward, looming over him. Apollo’s feet felt like lead blocks, and even the movement it took to look up at Kristoph felt sluggish and difficult.

“You’re an ass,” Apollo managed, but couldn’t find the strength to argue further. His voice was only just above a whisper.

“And you are as much my student right now as you were before I was in this dismal cell. You just don’t want to admit that everything you’ve built lies on the foundation I gave you. It’s a fruitless effort to pretend otherwise. Honestly, I’m proud of how much you’ve accomplished because of me.”

“You can’t take credit for any of my accomplishments. All I got from you was nightmares and paranoia.” Apollo wiped under his eyes, remembering too many nights of bolting upright in terror, throat burning with a phantom pain. He still had trouble accepting a coffee he hadn’t brewed himself, even at the Wright Anything Agency.

“And the groundwork for everything you know about being a lawyer.” Kristoph stepped closer and every muscle in Apollo’s body froze. He wiped his thumb across Apollo’s cheek and examined the dirt that came away. “If only you picked up hygiene half as well as everything else that I taught you.”

“I didn’t pick up anything from you. I am nothing like you.” He could barely breathe with Kristoph so close, those calculating eyes piercing right through him and seeing the naïve, eager-to-please, stupid boy he used to be. The one he still feared lived in the core of him. It was too painful to look directly at his face, so Apollo chose to stare instead at the empty space on his lapel where his badge once was. This close, he could see the pinprick hole worn into the fabric where the pin had been pushed through over and over.

Out of the corner of his eye, Kristoph raised a single, disbelieving eyebrow. “Really? You’re organized, driven, and highly knowledgeable. In fact, all of my plans began to unravel when you did something I never expected you to be capable of: you presented forged evidence. I would never have been caught without that fake ace of yours. The teacher fails when the student surpasses him.”

“I didn’t know…!” Shock pulled Apollo’s face up to look at Kristoph’s, but the cold, steady gaze of his former mentor only made his stomach do flips and caused the protest to die on his tongue.

“You knew it would never be admissible if you admitted where you got it from. You knew there was no proof it was from the crime scene, even if it had been real. Without that ace connecting me to the murder of Zak Grammarye, there wouldn’t be an arguable motive for me to kill the Mishams.”

He paused before delivering the final blow: “If you weren’t like me, I’d be a free man.”

Kristoph brushed dirt off the shoulder of Apollo’s coat and straightened his tie. It was a familiar gesture, reminding him of mornings rushing to work and having Kristoph patiently explain to him how important appearances are in a professional setting as he smoothed the wrinkles from Apollo’s unruly vest.

“Oddly enough,” Kristoph said with a soft smile, “if you weren’t like me, you’d still be working for me.”

Kristoph’s hands lingered on his tie. When Apollo swallowed, he felt the tie press against his throat. A serial murderer’s hands were essentially around his neck. He gasped and jerked back, his elbow bumping into the small table and sending it clattering to the floor. Kristoph allowed the tie to slip through his fingers as Apollo escaped his grasp.

“You really needn’t be scared, Mr. Justice. I just admitted to caring for you, did I not? Hurting you would do me no good. At least with you out succeeding as a lawyer, my legacy is preserved.”

“I’m not your legacy…” Apollo’s voice shook. Staying on his feet suddenly took concentrated effort. “That evidence… It was a mistake. It might’ve caught the real killer, but the ends don’t justify the means. I shouldn’t have done it.”

“So it was just a fluke, hm?” Kristoph’s smile didn’t falter. “Then perhaps you can explain to me why my dear brother was here not too long ago demanding I tell him just how I was ‘messing with your head’?” Air quotes were an unusual look on Kristoph. They were overly casual, and Kristoph despised casual.

“What?” Apollo tried to think back on the last time he had contact with Kristoph. He never visited him in jail, and the Misham trial was too far in the past to be what he was referring to.

“I was confused, too. Especially when I heard my sweet young protégé had testified against his friend in a murder trial and told the whole court, ‘Evidence is everything.’ Perhaps we ought to add ‘ruthless’ to our list of similarities, hm?”

“It wasn’t like that.” His voice broke on the last word. He sounded childish and whiny, and for some reason that made him feel ashamed, like he was still striving for Kristoph’s respect despite everything.

“How many more examples do you need? Just take a look at the evidence, Apollo.” The use of his name stung more than anything. Kristoph rarely ever used his first name alone, and when he did, it was always because Apollo had done something well, and even then, only at the end of the day when they were out of official work hours. When he finally earned his attorney’s badge it was “Congratulations, Apollo,” and a firm hand on his shoulder outside of the office. When he went to his first case as Kristoph’s counsel it was “An excellent job, Apollo,” and a warm smile in the parking lot of the courthouse.

Tears wet his eyelashes, as if he hadn’t cried enough today. He couldn’t think of a single thing to say.

“Now, now,” said Kristoph soothingly. “There’s no need to be upset about it. You’re a fine lawyer, just as I promised you’d be when I hired you. Wright is a hopeless idiot bumbling into other people’s business, just as he always has been. Everything is exactly as it should be.”

“You’re in here. Was that part of your brilliant plan of how everything ought to be?”

Kristoph’s face twitched, and Apollo saw a glimpse of the man behind the mask, the man who revealed himself in the Misham trial. It sent a chill up his spine.

Kristoph grabbed his wrist and Apollo squeaked. The grip felt like it could snap his bone clean in two, but was barely restraining itself. Apollo turned his head towards the cell door, but the guard wasn’t in eyesight. There was a security camera in the corner of the cell, but that wouldn’t do him any good right now.

“Justice,” Kristoph growled low in his ear, and Apollo snapped his full attention back to him. In that moment, he felt like he truly understood wild animals that chewed off their legs to escape a trap. If it had meant getting the rest of him out of there immediately, Apollo was pretty sure he would let Kristoph have the hand and never look back.

“Mr. Gavin…?” He hadn’t even thought of Kristoph as ‘Mr. Gavin’ in a long time, partly because ‘Gavin’ usually meant Klavier in his head now. Perhaps it was some long-forgotten instinct that pulled the name from his lips in a pathetic plead. Part of him was grateful that he sounded so pitiable. He wasn’t sure Kristoph had ever really felt pity, but if he truly believed he cared about Apollo in whatever twisted way he did, then maybe it would be enough to at least let him walk away from this conversation alive.

“You should be very careful around caged tigers. It takes so little to get them to lash out.” Kristoph’s voice had returned to its usual chilling calm, but the look in his eyes remained manic. “I may have lost my freedom, but I will maintain my pride. I urge you not to test it.”

Apollo nodded vigorously. He didn’t dare speak.

Kristoph sighed and loosened his grip. “That was always your biggest failing, you know. No pride to speak of. You thought yourself so worthless that it took the barest hint of praise to motivate you. Useful in a pawn, but I wanted you to be so much more than that. May it bring you some solace that we differ in that.”

Without the death grip around his wrist, Apollo wanted to argue, but he had nothing to say. Both agreeing and disagreeing made him feel dirty and nauseous. Either he was like Kristoph, or he was too useless to be. Or worse, there was a grain of truth in both answers.

“I do wonder how that will end for you,” Kristoph murmured softly, as if to himself. “My pride made me meticulous and clean. I could’ve done so much worse if I hadn’t wanted to keep my image. Imagine what you’re capable of without it.”

Apollo gasped as if all the air in the cell had suddenly evaporated. Forget speaking, he couldn’t breathe. His eyes and lungs burned with so much confusion and pain that all he was capable of was shaking in Kristoph’s grasp.

He never got the chance to pull away, because Kristoph let him go. He sat on his uncomfortable-looking gray cot and gave Apollo a familiar, warm smile. “Don’t be a stranger, Mr. Justice. I look forward to your next visit.”

Apollo just stared at him for what felt like an eternity. Kristoph offered no further words, or even a change of expression. Finally, Apollo turned and called for the guard, who rounded the corner back into view and let him out of the cell.

It was raining outside. A freezing rain so cold that it burned as it soaked through his clothes, only just warm enough to not be a sleet storm. And here he was, standing alone and muffling hiccups and sobs outside a prison without even his bike to get him home.

His wracked breaths paused long enough for him to laugh. Of course he’d end up like this. Holy Mother, he was so stupid. Why did he think visiting Kristoph was a good idea? Why did he ever think he could get away from him, when he had chased Kristoph’s approval so ardently for so long? Of course his shadow was still over him, blanketing every move he made.

Soaked to the bone, Apollo headed for the one place he could think of that was close enough that he might get out of the rain before he got seriously ill. It was an ostentatious little house, tucked into an odd corner of downtown with rose bushes defining the perimeter of the property. The roof was a loud, bright purple that matched the trim on the numerous tall windows, most of which were blocked from the inside by silky-looking black curtains. The door held an ornate silver knocker with a sharp stylized ‘G’ as the handle. Apollo would’ve rolled his eyes if he hadn’t felt so miserable.

The porch was shielded from the rain, so he took a quick moment to take a breath and try to appear somewhat in control before ringing the doorbell. A melody he vaguely remembered from the Gavinners’ concert played loudly behind the door.

Just as he was second-guessing coming and about to turn and get away before anyone saw him, the door swung open. Klavier’s hair was tucked into a messy bun and he wore a faded Gavinners hoodie. An acoustic guitar was strapped over his shoulder, a fact that mildly surprised Apollo because he didn’t think Klavier was capable of playing anything at a less than ear-splitting volume.

“Herr Forehead?” Klavier’s eyes widened in surprise. He wasn’t wearing his usual subtle makeup, making his whole face look a bit softer and paler. “What are you doing here? Mein Gott, you’re soaking wet!”

Apollo meant to respond, but instead he was seized by another sob as fresh tears fell from his eyes. He couldn’t seem to form any comprehensible words.

Klavier tensed immediately and opened the door wider. “H-hey, it’s alright! Whatever happened—it’ll be fine. Come in, let’s get you out of those wet clothes before you get sick. Scheisse, how long have you been out here? Come on.” He ushered Apollo into the house, his hands fluttering nervously over Apollo’s shoulders. Every time it seemed like he was going to touch him, he pulled away and gestured in the air instead to lead Apollo inside and towards a bathroom.

Klavier pulled towels out of a cabinet and put them into Apollo’s arms. “Here, I’ll grab you something dry to wear. A-and then I can get you something warm to drink. Coffee or hot chocolate or something.” Apollo didn’t need any special eyesight to see the anxiety coursing through each of Klavier’s movements. He kept looking at Apollo and quickly tearing his gaze away like he was trying to be there and give him privacy at the same time. He rushed out the door to grab the clothes and Apollo was left alone in the bathroom.

The towels in his arms were soft and fluffy and had a gold ‘KG’ embroidered into the corner. The countertop was marble and the porcelain sink matched the giant clawfoot tub against the wall. A truly impressive spread of beauty products and makeup lined the mirror that took up the entire wall behind the counter. This bathroom alone was probably worth more than Apollo’s crap apartment.

He ran a towel through his hair. His hair gel had been washed out in the rain and left him with an unruly mop of hair that fell into his eyes and refused to lie flat against his head. Klavier returned shortly, guitar gone, with a stack of dry clothes including sweatpants and a faded band t-shirt, which surprisingly did not feature the Gavinners, but some band Apollo had never even heard of.

“They might be a bit big, but I think these will work, at least until we can dry your clothes.” He placed them onto the counter without making eye contact. “I’ll wait in the kitchen and make us something to drink. When you’re done…” He looked over into Apollo’s eyes, worry etched into his face. “We can talk, if you’d like. Or just sit. Whatever you need, okay?”

Apollo managed a nod and Klavier slipped out of the bathroom once more, this time closing the door behind him. Apollo peeled the soaking clothes away from his skin and let them fall onto the polished tile floor. He sneezed and shivered as the warmth of the room clashed against his freezing skin. He toweled off the remaining rain water as quickly as he could before turning to the dry clothes. He caught a glimpse of red in the mirror as he reached for them.

A long, shallow scrape ran from his wrist almost to his elbow. His fall on the ice must’ve been worse than he thought. He pulled the sweatpants on and went to the sink to wash out his cut. He hissed through clenched teeth as the water ran over his broken skin. He used his free hand to rub away the bits of dirt and gravel that had stuck to him. Finally, he pulled Klavier’s t-shirt over his head and wandered out of the bathroom. He held his injured arm gingerly, more worried about dripping blood in Klavier’s house than the small sting of pain.

The smell of freshly-brewed coffee was easy enough to follow into the kitchen. Klavier, brow furrowed, was hovering over two steaming cups as he mixed cream and sugar into them.

“Klavier…?” Apollo’s voice was still weak, but at least he had stopped crying. He raised his arm to show the cut. “Do you have some bandages?”

Klavier paled and pushed the coffee away from himself. “How did that happen? I mean, yes, of course. I’ll get them.” He pulled a first aid kit from beneath the kitchen sink and walked past the counters into a living space beyond the kitchen where he sat on a plush couch and began to unpack a few items from the kit. Apollo tentatively approached him and sat, feeling strange and vulnerable.

“Did you wash it out?” After a quick nod from Apollo, Klavier pulled out disinfectant and dabbed it onto a bit of cotton. His fingers were light on Apollo’s wrist, more guiding it into position than actually holding him. Apollo gasped involuntarily at the sting when Klavier pressed the disinfectant against his cut.

“Sorry,” Klavier muttered, wincing himself at the noise. He wrapped the cut in bandages. When he finished, he paused with his hand still on Apollo’s wrist. “You feel freezing. Here, take this.” He leaned back, away from Apollo, and pulled the Gavinners hoodie over his head. Before Apollo could protest, Klavier had already pushed it into his arms.

He hesitated, but he still felt frozen to his core and there was a cozy warmth to the fabric from Klavier’s residual body heat. He pulled it on, rolling up the cuffs of the sleeves thrice before they finally rested at his wrists.

Klavier returned to the kitchen and brought back the two mugs of coffee, standing next to the couch and hovering just over Apollo. He held one mug out to Apollo and he gratefully took a long sip, steam warming his face as the liquid thawed his insides. One cream and two sugars, exactly how he liked it. He’d gotten coffee a couple times on investigations, but was surprised Klavier remembered how he took it. It brought a warmth to his cheeks unrelated to the hot steam in his face.

“What happened, Apollo?” Klavier’s voice was soft, cracking on the edge of heartbreak. His eyes were misty as he looked over Apollo, who, to be fair, did look like a wreck. He shifted uncomfortably on his feet.

“I visited Kristoph,” he said bluntly, staring into the mug in his hands.

“What?” Klavier’s expression immediately darkened. “Why on earth would you—?”

“Trucy’s my sister.” Apparently, he was all out of tack for the day. He turned his face up to watch the confusion run across Klavier’s features. He opened his mouth a few times, but couldn’t seem to decide on what to say. Apollo figured he owed him a bit more of an explanation. “We share a mom. Mr. Wright knew for a long time. Kristoph knew, too.” The shaking in his shoulders was no longer due to the cold.

Klavier exhaled slowly, and sank down to sit on the floor. Apollo looked down at him from his seat on the couch, feeling a bit guilty about the fact that he was glad he wasn’t the only one who seemed to have no idea what to do.

“Did he do that to you?” Klavier gestured to Apollo’s arm.

“No.” Apollo gripped the injury through the thick fabric of the hoodie. “I tripped on some ice. He didn’t hurt me. At least…” He looked away from Klavier.

“At least not in the way that leaves marks,” Klavier finished for him. Apollo hated the certainty in his voice, like he was speaking from experience.

Apollo placed his mug on the low glass coffee table before him, his stomach too twisted to drink any more. “Am I like him?”

“What? No!” Klavier leaned forward so fast that he spilled coffee on his sleeve. He muttered a few choice words in German as he wiped at the burning liquid. He set his mug next to Apollo’s before continuing. “You are nothing like him. He’s—!”

“Organized, driven, and highly knowledgeable?” Apollo felt sick just saying the words. “The one who taught me how to be a lawyer?”

The fire in Klavier’s eyes flickered and died. “Oh, Apollo… Is that what he said to you?”

Apollo’s silence must have been enough of an answer for him, because Klavier sighed heavily and flopped backwards onto the carpet. Apollo watched him with curiosity, his hair slightly unraveling around him, his eyes tired.

“He always needs to be the reason everyone else succeeds,” Klavier said, staring up at the ceiling. “I don’t know how he does it, but it’s like he can twist everything you’ve ever done around until it was all a part of his plan all along.”

Apollo lowered himself onto the floor and laid down near Klavier, facing opposite directions so that their heads were next to each other but Klavier’s face now looked upside-down from his perspective. He joined Klavier in staring at the ceiling, where an ornate glass chandelier sparkled in its own light. “But I am like him sometimes… You thought I was like him at Athena’s trial.”

Klavier was silent for too long, but Apollo couldn’t bring himself to look over. He might see something in his expression that confirmed his worst fears.

“He told you about that.” It wasn’t a question.

“You weren’t wrong.”

“You did the right thing in the end. He never would have."

Apollo closed his eyes. Everything seemed so still here with Klavier, not like the chaos of fighting with Mr. Wright or the constant pressure of visiting Kristoph. It didn’t feel better, necessarily, but it did give him more room to breathe.

“I hurt her. I was hurting and at my worst, and I wanted the person who killed Clay to hurt, too.” He heard Klavier move next to him, but didn’t open his eyes. “Even if I did support her in the end, I’m capable of being like him.”

“Everyone’s capable of being terrible when they’re hurting. You chose not to, and that’s what’s important. Trust me, I’ve spent enough time blaming myself for helping him.” Klavier’s voice held the same hollow resignation as Apollo’s.

Apollo shook his head, finally opening his eyes when tears began to gather in them. “I know we’re different. I know I wouldn’t do the things he’s done, but… We are similar. And I’ve learned so much from him. The way I think in court, the way I approach investigations… He’s there in the heart of it. It’s scares me.”

“I still cook the way he taught me to.” Klavier’s voice was barely a breath. “When I try to write music now, I still hear Daryan in it.”

“That’s not…” Apollo said on instinct, but wasn’t sure how to finish without sounding hypocritical.

“I love Kristoph’s beef stew. I love the way Daryan would always hold his high notes steady before going into the vibrato.” Klavier swallowed. “I loved them. I still love the things they’ve taught me. Kristoph got me interested in law in the first place.”

“You don’t hurt people,” Apollo said, strained but soft, like he was afraid of breaking the stillness between them.

“I have. I hurt Herr Wright.” He silenced Apollo with a stern look before he had even opened his mouth. “And don’t say it’s not my fault. I know that. But I still hurt him, the same way you still hurt Athena.”

Klavier rolled over onto his side and propped himself up on his elbow. He leaned over Apollo, a stray curl of blonde hair hovering an inch above his cheek. “I fall into bad habits, sometimes, because of them. I hide the things that upset me and I make mean jokes when I’m angry. Those are things I’m not proud of, that I work on to try and stop.”

Klavier’s eyes softened and Apollo looked up into them as if he were in a trance. He couldn’t look away from Klavier’s sad eyes and sadder smile if he tried. He always walked such a thin line between being genuine and wearing a mask, it was a little impressive. He said the things he meant with such conviction, but always needed to distance himself from them with a persona. It was rare to see him completely himself.

“But the things I love that came from them,” Klavier continued, “those are mine. They hurt sometimes, occasionally so much so that I can’t bear them, but they’re still mine. If I purged every single thing they touched from my life, I’m not sure I’d recognize the person that came out of that. So I have to take those back, and accept where they came from and who they remind me of.”

“How?” Apollo asked, his voice raw. “How do stop thinking of it as theirs?”

Klavier laughed, a small breathy thing. “Because of something you told me, Herr Forehead.” At the nickname, Klavier tapped one finger on the center of Apollo’s forehead. Normally, Apollo would’ve been irritated and pushed him away, but now a surge of fondness flooded through him.

“Me?”

“At the Misham trial,” Klavier explained with a smile. “You told me to remember what was important to me. The truth. So it doesn’t matter if Kristoph got me interested in law, because what’s important to me about law is finding the truth, not pleasing my brother.”

Klavier brushed Apollo’s hair away from his eyes, his fingers light but steady. It was a nice change from the jitteriness that had overtaken him earlier. “And you are organized, driven, and highly motivated because it’s how you help people, not how you live up to a cruel, delusional man’s ideals.”

For the first time in a while, a smile pulled at Apollo’s lips. “You’re kind of amazing, you know that?”

Klavier’s eyes widened and a blush colored his cheeks. “Was? Wh-what brought that on?”

“I’ve been driving myself mad about all of this, and there you are,” Apollo gestured up to Klavier’s face, his hand brushing against the loose curls hanging down, “just ready with a perfectly reasonable explanation.”

Klavier’s face returned to that small genuine smile. “I’ve had a lot of time to think on it. And some amazing people helping me through it. I should be thanking you, really.”

“You just seemed like you were in so much pain.” Apollo remembered Klavier’s face when Kristoph had walked through the courtroom doors. “I wanted you to be okay.”

“And that’s why you don’t have to worry about being like Kristoph. And if you ever do, I’m always here to talk.”

Apollo sighed and let some of the tension out of his shoulders. He felt like he’d run a marathon. He couldn’t believe a few short hours ago he had absolutely no idea about any of this. More than anything, he wanted to fall asleep and stop thinking for a while.

“Do you think I could crash here for the night? I’m not sure if I’m up for a night alone with my thoughts yet.”

“Ja, of course. It would be my pleasure, Herr Forehead. I’ve got a guest bedroom you can use. And I’ll put your clothes through the wash.”

“Danke,” Apollo said with a smirk, falling into the familiar pattern of teasing Klavier for throwing around unnecessary German because he thought it sounded cool, though this time Apollo was sincere about the thanks.

“Bitte,” Klavier echoed the smirk on his face. He stretched and stood before offering Apollo a hand up.

They slipped into an almost-normal banter for the rest of the night. Klavier made dinner and Apollo curled into the too-large hoodie as he waited. They were quieter, more subdued than they usually were, but they had also never spent a whole night alone together without even a case to discuss.

He received a worried text from Athena, who’d found his bike still at the office and wanted to know if he’d gotten home alright. He sent a vague but reassuring reply, saying he would talk to her more later. She sent a number of different emojis that he didn’t have the spare brain power to decipher, but chose to take as an attempt to be reassuring. While he had his phone out, he also texted a neighbor in his apartment to ask them to feed Mikeko. The poor cat shouldn’t go without dinner just because he was having a crisis across town.

At night, Apollo felt that he might toss and turn for hours, but exhaustion and the frankly unbelievably comfortable mattress had him falling asleep the moment his head hit the pillow.

It took him a good minute to remember where he was when he woke, and the all the events of the previous day filtered in. A heavy weight settled on his chest, and he focused on the memory of Klavier’s face above his, gentle and supportive. It was enough to give him the strength to get up out of bed and wander out of the guest bedroom into the kitchen. The smell of bacon and eggs was already drifting through the air.

Klavier whistled a tune that sounded suspiciously like The Guitar’s Serenade as he made breakfast. His hair was down, but not styled yet, loose curls resting over both shoulders. Apollo perched on a stool and watched him for a few moments.

“Morning,” he finally said.

“Guten Morgen, Herr Forehead.” Klavier waved with a spatula. “Did you have a restful night?”

“Surprisingly, yes. I’ve got to say, rich people do have something right when it comes to mattresses. Décor notwithstanding, of course.”

Klavier pursed his lips in a mock pout. “How rude, and after I offered you my lovely home. I’ll have you know this is very classy interior design.”

“I’m not sure you’ve ever been classy a day in your life, Klavier. Class demands a subtlety you completely lack.” It was nice, trading jabs with Klavier. He could almost ignore the twisting of his gut.

Klavier sighed dramatically. “Well, if you’re done insulting me, your clothes are over on the couch.”

“Thanks.” Apollo collected his things from the living room and went to change, returning to two plates of freshly cooked breakfast.

“So…” Klavier started, and Apollo could see the way he nervously twirled his fork on his plate. “You are Fraulein Wright are siblings?”

Apollo nodded. “It’s… really weird to think about,” he admitted. “I love Trucy, but…”

“But?” Klavier echoed.

“I’m worried I’m going to mess it all up.” It was somewhat relieving to finally say it out loud. “I don’t exactly have a good track record with family. I lost my parents as a baby, lost Dhurke twice, and Nahyuta and I… well, we’re okay now, but it’s nothing like it was, and he actually hated me there for a while. Now I’ve sort of lost my mom again and Trucy… What if I can’t be a good brother for her?”

“Fraulein Wright is very tough,” Klavier said, as if Apollo didn’t know that. “She’s lost her own share of family and always come through. If anyone understands what you’re feeling, I’m certain it’s her.”

Apollo buried his head in his hands. “I left her so suddenly after I found out. I don’t want to be another family member that lets her down. She’s amazing and she deserves amazing family.”

“Apollo.” Klavier reached across the table and touched his hand. Apollo let him lower it from his face and hold it between them on the table. “You love her. You’re going to be an amazing brother because you’ve already been doing everything you need to. You look out for her, make her smile. I mean, have you seen the way she lights up when you give her attention? Just be honest with her about what you’re feeling. Everything else will come naturally.”

Apollo sighed. “You’re right. I need to go talk to her.”

“You can do it, Herr Forehead.” Klavier squeezed his hand, then let go.

“Think you could give me a ride to the Agency?”

“I never thought the day would come when you asked to be on my motorcycle,” Klavier said with a sly grin. “My magnetic charm is stronger than I even thought.”

Apollo laughed and shook his head. “Just eat your eggs so we can go.”

By the time Apollo made his way into the Wright Anything Agency, Athena was pacing up a storm in what little free space they had. Mr. Wright was watching her wearily, and Trucy sat on the couch, going back and forth between twirling her hat around her finger and tapping the brim with it clutched to her chest.

Athena was the first to see him enter. “Apollo! Are you okay?”

Apollo took a moment to let the question settle. It wasn’t an easy answer. “I’m getting there.” He crossed the room and sat next to Trucy, clearing his throat with some effort. “Hey, Truce…”

“Hi, Polly.” Her smile wasn’t quite convincing.

Come on, Apollo. Just be honest, and the rest will come, he reminded himself. “I’m really sorry if I scared you yesterday.”

“Why would I be scared, Polly?” Trucy let her hat rest on her lap. “It was surprising for sure, but nothing was scary.” Her smile wobbled a bit.

Apollo twisted his bracelet around his wrist, his own nervous tell. “I wasn’t the only one who found out something big and possibly painful yesterday. And I left you. I didn’t want to abandon you, but I was confused and scared and not ready to face you yet.” He looked into her eyes. “But I am ready now. You are a really amazing person and I was scared that I wasn’t good enough to be your brother. You’re strong and talented and you always do your best to make everyone around you feel good.”

Trucy blinked a few times, and Apollo could see the beginnings of tears start to form in her eyes.

“There is no one in the world that I would rather have as my sister, and I’m going to do everything I can to be the best brother I can be. Because you were right about us being a family. Even if we weren’t related, I’d still love you and be there for you whenever you need me.”

Trucy sniffled and the first few tears finally spilled over onto her cheeks. “Polly!” She threw her arms around him and buried her face into his shoulder. “You’re amazing, too! The best brother anyone could ask for!”

Seized by a rush of fondness and a protective instinct, Apollo wrapped his arms tightly around her and pressed a firm kiss into the top of her head. There was something so natural about it, like a piece of himself had finally clicked into place when he hadn’t even noticed he’d been missing it.

“I was so worried you didn’t want to be a part of a family,” Trucy mumbled against his shoulder. “I thought maybe it would just be painful for you to be around me.”

“Never,” he said, and squeezed her tighter. “I could never, ever think of a life without you in it. I promise, I’m not leaving you.”

“I’m not leaving you, either.” Trucy pulled away enough to look at his face, a defiant shimmer in her red, puffy eyes. “I promise, you’re never gonna worry about not having a family ever again.”

This time when tears overwhelmed him, they were out of joy. “I believe you,” he said, because for the first time in many years, he really did believe in a family that would not leave.

Finally, the world around him expanded enough that he saw Athena aggressively wiping her eyes, Widget a bright green around her neck, and Mr. Wright with a fond smile that turned uncertain as Apollo met his eyes.

“As for you,” Apollo said, pointing at him angrily. Mr. Wright raised his hands and Apollo only took a little joy in the fact that he genuinely seemed nervous about Apollo’s anger. He paused and let Mr. Wright simmer in the uncertainly a moment longer.

“I’m still mad at you,” he finally said. “And I’m not sure if I consider you family, even if you’re Trucy’s dad. But… I care about you. And when I’m less mad, I expect a very long conversation with you about all of this. After that, we’ll at least be… I don’t know, ‘friends’ sounds weird when it’s my boss, but you know what I mean. Okay?”

“I can live with that,” Mr. Wright said, giving him a fond look that was usually reserved for Trucy. Apollo was uncertain how he felt about it, but for now filed it away in his head with the very long list of things he was going to have to consider in the coming days.

“And,” Apollo said, steeling his nerves. “If you’ll still have me, I think Christmas is probably a good time to start working on exactly how this family fits together.”

“Yes!” Trucy exclaimed, hugging him tightly once more. “Of course we’ll have you!”

“You know,” Athena chimed in, “Simon and I may have plans to spend Christmas together, but we haven’t decided on where yet. I don’t suppose you have room for two more?”

“Absolutely! Right, Daddy?” Trucy opened one arm and Athena wasted no time in joining the hug on the already-full couch, catching Apollo’s ribs with her elbow.

“The more the merrier,” Mr. Wright said. “Do I get to join the group hug, too?”

Athena and Trucy looked to Apollo simultaneously. He sighed.

“One condition,” he said.

Mr. Wright raised an eyebrow in surprise. “Okay, hit me.”

“There’s someone else I think could use a little extra family this Christmas,” he said, remembering Klavier staring at the ceiling and talking about both Kristoph and Daryan. “I want to invite Prosecutor Gavin.”

Mr. Wright seemed surprised, but not displeased. “Well, we’ll be a regular courthouse this Christmas. I don’t know if Maya’s rule about no law talk is gonna hold for too long under that.” This seemed to be fine with him, though, because he came over and flopped onto Trucy’s spare cloak, crushing a bundle of handkerchiefs and a pack of card on the overfull couch. Apollo wheezed as Mr. Wright wrapped his arms around the three of them and leaned forward, putting his weight onto them and making Trucy giggle.

“This is the best family ever,” Athena said from somewhere over Apollo’s squished face. Trucy and Mr. Wright hummed in agreement, and Apollo finally felt the last bit of tension he’d been holding in his body release.

“It is pretty great,” he said, his voice muffled by Trucy’s hair.