Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Phoenix Wright doesn’t remember when he finally started going back to the office each morning, actually opening the firm. April? May? He's not even sure what today is, only that it’s raining. How dreary. And fitting.

The defense attorney drags his feet over the threshold, his eyes cast to the floor instead of the pristine “Wright & Co. Law Offices” sign on the door. After dropping his briefcase on his desk, Phoenix walks to the blinds, shifting them open. The room doesn’t get much brighter.

He watches the raindrops trickle down the glass, briefly hidden behind each and every slat. The wind periodically shoves small waves against the windows, furious that anyone could escape it to the protection of the indoors.

With a shake of his head, Phoenix turns to flip on the lights, making up for the lack of the bright sun best they can. He finally decides to glance at a calendar he keeps nearby his workspace and his eyes widen. When did it become June? Let alone the middle of it. Despite wondering, he doesn’t answer himself, content to avoid the reasoning for his lack of general awareness.

Before he realizes it, a man has walked in the office. His heavily greying brown hair lies mashed to his head, a few stray beads of water dripping to his glasses. Splotches mar the chocolate suit, no doubt the pleasant shower’s doing as well. As expected, the supposed new client immediately begins complaining about said weather. Phoenix resists rubbing his temples.

He manages to learn why this doctor, Turner Grey, has sought him out and is surprised at hearing Maya Fey's name.

Phoenix readily accepts to travel to Kurain Village, happy to see his spirit channeling friend after so long, even more so to run away from the foggy, dim loneliness settled over him.

What is hilarious in the not-actually-funny sort of way is that instead of things going better for Phoenix, everything gets a whole lot worse. He really doesn't need this.

Dr. Grey is now dead. Maya is, once again, taken away to the detention center. Phoenix is left dumbfounded, overtaken by worry, fear, and confusion. He’s stuck at Kurain unable to do anything for the night while Maya is likely questioned until the sun comes up. He ends up passing out against the wall of the meditation room.

When he awakens, Phoenix rushes back to town, hoping Maya would be allowed visitors by now. Phoenix breathes a sigh of relief the moment he walks into the detention center and is allowed to see Maya; now he can focus on figuring out exactly what happened.

He sits in front of the familiar glass, waiting for his dear friend to be escorted across from him. The feeling of déjà vu doesn’t escape his notice.

When the slight creak of the distant door reaches Phoenix’s ears, his heart clenches. A young girl, her entire body deflated with trails of dried tears staining her face, walks in with a guard following behind her. The guard shuts the door and assumes his usual position, blocking the way out.

Maya, ever in her purple Kurain robes, sits across from Phoenix, whose chest tightens even further. She smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes at all, “Nick!”

“Maya….”

“I’m sorry we’re in this situation again,” Maya chuckles with disdain. “I never imagined something like this would happen.”

“Don’t you dare apologize, Maya. How are you holding up? What the heck happened in there?”

Maya takes a deep, shaky breath as she fidgets with one of the beads in her hair. With as steady a voice as she can muster, Maya recites the events up to the murder, or at least what she can remember. Phoenix listens intently, never averting his eyes from her. He consistently needs to remind her she isn’t at fault for any of what happened; she consistently ignores him. By the time she finishes, his hands are clenched. He may not have much to go with, but it’s a start.

Phoenix straightens up and flashes Maya a grin, “All right, I suppose I should do some further investigating. I’ll be back later, but in the meantime, please make sure you prepare it, Maya.”

She looks confused, “Huh? ‘It’? What do you mean, Nick?”

“The document requesting me to be your attorney, of course.”

He sees the doubt and worry in her eyes, “I...but….”

“What is it, Maya?”

“Are you sure? I mean, I’m guilty! I’m a murderer!” Maya slams her hands down on the counter in front of her, incredulous.

Phoenix inhales and exhales slowly, “No one’s decided that yet.”

Maya stands, her chair screeching along the concrete floor, “But I did! I killed that person...with these...two hands…!” She brings her jittery hands towards her face, staring at them with wide eyes.

Phoenix closes his eyes, willing the panic rising beneath his skin to ebb. He pushes away a blurred image of long ago fighting to the forefront of his mind, “That’s enough, Maya.”

“It’s hopeless! If you defend me, you’ll lose, I’m sure-”

The image sharpens, now in full focus. A young man of his own age sits across from him, sitting in the same place Maya currently occupies. His silver bangs obscure his crestfallen expression as he refuses to look Phoenix in the eyes. He spews the same lies as Maya is now. He had given up, but Phoenix wouldn’t take no for an answer. Phoenix supported him despite his objections. He saved him once. And then he failed to save him again. And now he’s gone.

“ Stop it! ” Phoenix yells out, standing up so fast his chair crashes to the floor. He throws his eyes open to look at the poor girl in front of him now, watching as her eyes fill with tears.

“Help me...Nick, help me...I’m scared….”

Once again Phoenix catches his breath and collects himself, “Don’t worry, I will.”

Before Phoenix leaves the detention center, Maya hands him some magical charm called a Magatama, telling him to talk to her younger cousin for help with it. He would be skeptical if not for all the spiritual miracles he’s witnessed up to this point already.

He gives his friend a gentle smile as he walks out, determined to learn as much as he can before the trial tomorrow.

Immediately heading to Kurain Village once more, Phoenix rushes into investigating. Before long he also finds Pearl Fey, who readily opens up once he presents the Magatama to her. The young girl “charges” it before returning the charm and Phoenix is still left wondering what power it’s supposed to hold. Phoenix doesn’t have time to dwell on those particular mystical powers at the moment. He returns to the meditation room with Pearls in tow to continue his search where he bumps into Detective Gumshoe.

After a brief conversation about the details of the case, Phoenix decides to ask the detective about the trial, to which he responds, “Well, I’ve got two pieces of news for you, pal. ‘Bad news’ and ‘even worse news.’ So which do you want to hear first?”

Phoenix sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, “I don’t care either way at this point…it doesn’t change the fact I’m not going to like it.”

“Alright, pal. Well, the prosecutor for the trial is Prosecutor von Karma.”

Suddenly Phoenix sees red as his voice seethes, “ What?! Von Karma?!” Gumshoe can’t possibly be referring to Manfred von Karma. Phoenix sways on his feet, the horrible aftertaste of the evil Von Karma force-fed him rising in his throat, “Wait. Didn’t Von Karma stand trial and-”

“That’s where the other piece of bad news comes in. The Von Karma you’re facing tomorrow is actually his successor. His kid.”

“His successor…?”

“Yeah. Became a prosecutor real young...like 13, and hasn’t lost a trial since. That’s what they call a ‘prodigy,’ pal.”

“W-what? 13? Wouldn’t I have heard of someone like that?!”

“Oh, no. The kid was born and raised in Germany, pal. A great country to develop a person’s talents.”

Phoenix nods. That makes sense. He closes his eyes and puts a hand over them. Even hearing the name “Von Karma” gives him terrible flashbacks. Again he’s remembering that case so long ago.

The silver-haired man’s clouded eyes stare at him through tempered glass.

The man’s mouth curls down in a hardened frown as his hands grip hard on the wooden stand in front of him.

Phoenix catches himself, Stop it! Get over it, Phoenix! That person is already gone….

He jolts when a hand rests on his shoulder, “You okay there, pal?” Phoenix removes his own hand from his face and looks to Gumshoe. The detective’s brows are furrowed in worry.

“Y-yeah. Just thinking about the case,” Phoenix sputters. “I suppose I should go for now. Gotta run to the office. I’ll be back here a little later, detective.”

Gumshoe nods, confusion and worry still evident in his expression. Phoenix hurries away to board the train. The whole way back, stormy eyes haunt his mind.

Chapter Text

The moment the office door clicks shut behind him, Phoenix runs to the bathroom and hunches over the toilet. He can feel the bile rising along with the memories. The pain. The guilt. Right, this was a reason he avoided taking a new case. Why he avoided thinking too much. Why he avoided thinking about him.

Miles Edgeworth.

It’s been about four months since he “left.” Six months since that wretched case that first sent Edgeworth spiraling down. Phoenix still can’t look at the prosecutor’s office without feeling ill. Without getting flashbacks of the night he failed to protect Edgeworth from himself. Without seeing the note left over the fallen red king of Edgeworth’s chessboard.

Why? Phoenix has asked himself this question almost as often as the myriad of “What-if” scenarios. He still has no answer. No body was found. No trail was left. No answers.

Wiping his mouth with a trembling hand, Phoenix stands. He moves to the sink and attempts to rinse away the putrid taste of failure. It’s still there. He grabs a bottle of mouthwash and tries again. Better, but still lingers. As good as he’s going to get right now, Phoenix supposes.

As he leaves the bathroom and returns to the main room, a newspaper clipping catches his eye. Right, he needs to bring this to Gumshoe. He needs to focus on this case so he can save Maya. He shoves all the agonizing thoughts of the past back to the usual deep corner of his mind. He needs to solve this case. He can’t afford to fail.

The rest of the day’s investigating seems to lead to more questions than answers and Phoenix is left to toss and turn in bed until he finally nods off to sleep.

Phoenix stares at a familiar nameplate: High Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth. He feels his hand tighten on a door handle, turning it. The door cracks open an inch. Two inches. Three. Then the door slams against the wall, Phoenix stumbling blind into pitch black darkness. This isn’t right. Where is Edgeworth’s desk? His sofa? His chessboard?

The chessboard. Phoenix blinks and it’s there. The pieces appear to be moving on their own, a silent battle. What the hell is going on?

He walks closer, one small step followed by another and another. When he reaches the board, tears spring into his eyes. A blue pawn sneers down to the loser at its feet. Is that blood? Why does it look like the red king piece has been stabbed through? His stance wavers and Phoenix grabs the table to steady himself. A few pieces clatter to the floor, echoing in the darkness.

Something is wrong. Phoenix lifts his hands to see them more clearly. Red. Dripping. He screams.

He turns to run, but bumps into something--no, someone. Empty eyes stare back at him. Matching, colorless hair frames the pale, haunted face of a familiar man. The man claws at a spike buried in his chest, crimson seeping through his white button-up.

Phoenix screams again.

“ Miles! Miles, no! ”

Panicked, Phoenix reaches for Edgeworth’s hands, but the moment he touches them, the man vanishes. Phoenix blinks. Still gone. He blinks again and spins around. Nothing but blackness.

“Why…? What…? Please don’t…” Phoenix collapses to his knees, crying into his bloodied hands.

“What are you doing here, Wright?”

Phoenix jerks his head up and suddenly he’s sitting on the prosecutor’s tacky office couch, Edgeworth looking at him with a furrowed brow, “Wha-how-why am I here?”

“That’s what I’m asking you, Wright,” Edgeworth sighs, shaking his head. “I’m about to head out…” Phoenix doesn’t miss how he hides a piece of paper behind his back.

“Wait, no! You can’t! Please, not again….” Phoenix tugs at the arm that holds the note, grasping Edgeworth’s tightened fist. “Please, let me see. Let go.”

“What on Earth are you-”

“Miles, please !” he watches as Edgeworth’s face shifts to one of anguish, the man’s hand loosening. Phoenix yanks the slip of paper out of it and tears it to pieces.

“You weren’t supposed to find out, Wright,” Edgeworth’s voice sounds strange now. Different. Eerie.

“But I did! Why don’t you listen? Stay! Don’t go!” Phoenix’s voice cracks, sobs escaping between words. His hands find their way to Edgeworth’s shoulders, afraid to let go.

A smirk spreads across the other man’s face, “Excuse me? Did you really think you could change anything? Did you really think you could save me again? Did you ever think that you coming here would seal my fate?”

“W-w-what? But I don’t-but why wou-”

“You just don’t get it,” Edgeworth shoves Phoenix’s hands away from him before standing. He reaches into his pockets and pulls out a handful of...is that paper?

Suddenly all Phoenix sees are words: Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth chooses death.

“Thank you for helping me finally decide,” Edgeworth’s voice fills his ears. “Phoenix.”

Phoenix feels a weight fall into his lap. Wetness pools over and down his legs. He doesn’t want to look down. He doesn’t want to see.

But he looks.

Phoenix jerks awake with a shriek. He crashes to the floor, a twisted leg still on the bed from being caught in his bed sheets. His chest heaves. A hand grips the front of his shirt so tightly he’s unsure if it’s his own from being so numb. He can feel beads of sweat mingling with the goosebumps prickling his skin. Tears flow freely as he lies pinned on his back.

Why did he have to have such a horrible nightmare now? The bad dreams had started to dwindle. They haven’t been this strong for months. Again Phoenix is reminded of why he feared taking cases again. But it’s not just that, is it? It’s because of that name coming up again: Von Karma. He couldn’t help all the memories flooding back full force. No reprieve.

Phoenix wills himself to relax, releasing his shirt and taking a few deep breaths. Once his breathing returns to normal, he reaches up to detangle and free his leg. He sits up and massages it, testing its movement. When he’s certain he’ll be able to stand, Phoenix does so. He glances at the clock on his nightstand. Ten minutes before his alarm was set to go off. Of course.

Phoenix throws himself into morning preparation, desperate to suppress any thoughts of Edgeworth and the nightmare. He reviews the case notes multiple times mostly because he continuously had to restart them to absorb anything.

Already emotionally drained when he reaches the courthouse, he dreads needing to tell Maya about the prosecution. He does so anyway.

Maya reacts just as Phoenix expects her to, loud and incredulous, “Whaaaaaat!? Prosecutor von Karma? You mean...”

“No, it’s supposed to be his successor this time.”

“Oh, his successor. I see,” Maya pauses as a sad look crosses her face, “Manfred von Karma. He was a really sinister man. He pulled all sorts of nasty tricks; all so he could win.”

Phoenix cringes, wondering what sort of person this successor will turn out to be.

Maya continues, “It’s no good…”

Phoenix is thankful when Pearls bursts through the doors. Him and Maya greet her, surprised she managed to travel here on her own.

The relief is short-lived when Maya speaks up again, “Um...I’m really scared...What if Von Karma tries to do something to me? At least I know Mr. Edgeworth would be nicer to me than Von Karma!”

“Mr. Eh-ji-werth? Who is that?” Pearls asks, confused.

Maya beams enthusiastically, “Oh, um, he’s Nick’s rival...Well, he’s also a friend.” She goes on to describe their courtroom dynamic, but Phoenix’s mind is gone.

His eyes glaze over, his mind reliving the moments Maya paints for Pearls. Phoenix’s mind is cruel, however, and blots out the images of Edgeworth smiling with those of him crying like the last night he saw him. Images of a broken man. Images of a dead man.

Phoenix cries out, his voice harsh, “Maya! Please don’t mention that name ever again…”

“Huh? But why, Nick?” Maya’s eyes grow wide, her body rigid. Phoenix can’t look at her.

“I’m...I’m sorry, Maya. I forgot you don’t know. He...He’s…” Phoenix can’t bear to say it, “He’s gone…And he’s not coming back…”

Again Maya shrieks, “Whaaaaaat?! W-w-wait...Wait a second!! What’s that supposed to mean?”

When the court bailiff interrupts, Phoenix is grateful for yet another interruption, especially a much longer one this time, “Let’s go. Now’s not the time to talk about that anyway.” Phoenix ignores the concerned utterance of his name from Maya as he moves to enter the courtroom.

Franziska von Karma is just like her father; Phoenix can’t say he expected much else. She easily gets away with using a whip in (and likely out of) court and has the judge under her thumb. She’s haughty and worships perfection. Definitely a Von Karma.

Overall the trial goes as well as Phoenix’s usually do. He manages to unveil a critical flaw in the prosecution’s case and buys another day. If Phoenix were to say he doesn’t enjoy Franziska’s meltdown after the Judge’s decision to extend proceedings, he’d be lying.

“I don’t care what I have to do...I will get my guilty verdict!” she had said between gritted teeth. Like father, like daughter.

When Maya asks Phoenix to take Pearls home, he doesn’t hesitate to accept; he wants to investigate more anyway.

Once they arrive in Kurain village, Phoenix takes the opportunity to talk to the young, obviously sheltered girl. Pearls tears into Franziska rather quickly, upset at her treatment of Maya especially, “Why was that woman bullying Mystic Maya?” For someone so young, Pearls has quite the piercing glare.

“Well, she’s the opposite of a lawyer--a prosecutor, so her job is to prove people guilty. They don’t care if someone’s innocent. All they care about is if they win,” Phoenix explains, his tone flat.

“Th-that’s terrible! B-But...she’s really a good prosecutor with a heart on the inside, right?”

“I’m afraid not, Pearls. It’s especially unlikely for someone like her...but he also studied under Von Karma so maybe….”

“‘He’? Who are you talking about, Mr. Nick? Is it that person Mystic Maya was talking about? Mr. Eh-ji-werth…?”

Just his name sends a spark of pain through Phoenix’s chest, “That was a long time ago. He’s not around anymore…”

“Huh?”

Phoenix musters up enough effort to keep his calm, “I’m sorry, Pearls, but I can’t talk about it right now. Maybe some other time, okay?”

“O-oh...okay,” Pearls hesitates as she nods, chewing on her thumbnail.

Thanks to Pearls being the sweet girl she is, Phoenix moves the conversation along smoothly, well, other than finding out that Pearls is hiding something. He’ll figure that out as the day goes on, just like he has to puzzle out everything else.

By the time Phoenix returns home, he feels he has a solid hold on the case. Mostly. He rummages through the case notes while he eats a small meal. His stomach churns in protest, but he forces the cheap food down anyway.

Every so often his attention drifts, his eyes focusing on nothing. Images spill from the corner of his mind, hints of magenta covering his vision. Phoenix gasps, pulling himself back to the present, and shakes his head harshly. He gulps down the rest of his water and moves to his couch, spreading all his files on the coffee table.

He needs to focus. For Maya. For himself .

The morning comes too soon for Phoenix, who awakens, half-buried in papers, to his phone alarm. He certainly prefers this awakening to the previous morning’s, though.

Once again, the trial proves stressful, Phoenix working his way through each and every hurdle. He soon squares his shoulders and exclaims that he will definitely show and substantiate a motive for the witness, Ini Miney. To his surprise, Franziska agrees to let him do so and the judge calls for a quick recess.

What Phoenix doesn’t understand is Franziska showing up in the defendant lobby to parade her confidence in his face. He’s thankful the break is short.

Before long, Phoenix reveals the truth, proving Maya really didn’t kill Dr. Grey. He grins at the look on Franziska’s smarmy face and can’t help but throw some snark back at her. Unfortunately for him, she whips him into unconsciousness, causing him to miss the verdict declaration. At least he gets to see the reunion between Maya and her sister, Mia, whose been channeled by Pearls all this time.

The knowledge that he’s saved Maya spreads much-needed relief through his veins. As he escorts both Maya and Pearls back to Kurain village, their cheerful aura imbues him with peace--such a foreign concept to Phoenix over the past few months. Now knowing that Kurain village is so much closer than Maya originally made it seem, he feels much less alone. And for now, that helps him sleep better at night.

Chapter Text

The end of the year approaches and Phoenix refuses to acknowledge the current date when he arrives at the office. He needs to clean. At least that’s what he intended until Maya calls and throws his plans out the window.

He meets up with Maya at the detention center to accept the case to defend Maximillion Galactica, a popular magician for the Berry Big Circus. Of course Maya would insist on taking Max’s case, she’s a big fan of his. He just recently took Maya and Pearls to that very circus, after all.

As usual, Phoenix jumps immediately in to investigating with Maya in tow. They soon run into a familiar detective, who seems to be in low spirits for a change. Phoenix can imagine one reason why and thus decides to rip the band-aid straight off, “Do you know who will be the prosecutor in court tomorrow?”

“Of course. It will be Ms. von Karma.”

Just as Phoenix thought, as he watches the other man's shoulders slump, “She isn’t gonna hit me with her whip again, is she?”

“What do you have to worry about? You only have to see her in court! When she shows up at the precinct, the sound of that whip never ends, pal,” poor Gumshoe mutters with downcast eyes. Definitely has to be one reason for his sour mood, Phoenix is sure.

Maya interjects, “Detective Gumshoe...That’s enough about Von Karma. What about that guy?”

Phoenix winces. He’s dodged so many of Maya’s questions since she’s returned. When things cooled down after the Dr. Grey murder case back in June, Maya cornered Phoenix at his own office right after they had closed the place one evening.

“Alright, Nick, spill it,” Maya crosses her arms, her back pressed against the front door to Wright & Co. Law Offices. She had just turned the open sign to closed.

Phoenix finishes locking the back room door before he focuses on her, “What are you talking about, Maya?”

“Mr. Edgeworth! I’ve been back for at least a month now and you still haven’t said anything about him!”

“I told you not to say his name around me, didn’t I?” Phoenix feels his nails dig into his palms. He moves to the front desk to busy his hands with straightening papers that he already straightened fifteen minutes ago.

“Come on, Nick! You can talk to me, can’t you?” Maya brings her fists close to her face, her cheeks puffed in agitation.

Phoenix grabs his briefcase, “Please, Maya.” He moves towards her, keys in hand.

She stomps a foot, “Nick! Did you guys have a fight? Did he get fired? Did he quit? Where did he go? Why are you so upset over it? Give me someth-!”

The look in Phoenix’s eyes silence her. He’s directly in front of Maya now, glowering down at her, “Move.” A mix of fear and worry splashes on Maya’s face. Phoenix knows he’s never acted in such a way towards her before, and he can imagine her shock matches his own.

She hesitates, obviously debating a retort, but must decide against it as she casts her eyes to the floor and lowers her head; she steps aside.

A pang of guilt sucks the air out of Phoenix’s lungs and he deflates, suddenly exhausted. He opens the office door and waits, side-eyeing Maya. She rushes through the opening, her eagerness to put a bit of space between them enhancing his remorse.

Phoenix quickly locks the office and turns to see Maya hovering by the top of the stairwell, glancing at him as if wondering if she should wait. They usually do walk out together, after all.

He hurries to her side and she resumes her way down the steps, keeping her eyes averted from him. Silence stifles the air between them. Even as they walk out of the building, Maya stays quiet.

Phoenix sighs and clears his throat, “I’m sorry.” Maya finally looks to him then, and he sees the conflict in her eyes. He places a hand on her head, ruffling her hair, and he gives her a weak smile, “I get that you’re worried.” He pauses and his smile wavers, “And curious. Just please let it go for now. Okay?”

The concern remains in Maya’s eyes even as she breaks into a smile, “Fine, fine, but to make it up to me, you’re taking us out for burgers!”

“W-wh-Right now?” Phoenix’s eyebrows raise at her smooth change in demeanor.

“Of course right now! Come on, let’s go!” she latches onto his arm and starts dragging him away. Just like that, the tension is gone and Phoenix lets her order even more than usual.

Maya waited until after their last case to ask Phoenix again. It’s as if she hoped not everything returned when he recovered from his amnesia. That maybe he had forgotten their previous exchange a few months prior. He hadn’t. She wasn’t happy. Phoenix tried to keep his patience and temper in check, especially when Maya convinced Pearls to slip small questions in their conversations.

This past month neither she nor Pearls have asked anything. It had finally seemed like she had given up pestering him. I guess this is why she’s asking Gumshoe now. Great. She continues, “What is he up to?”

Gumshoe looks as confused as ever, “That guy?”

“What happened to Edgeworth? You know! The Edgeworth that’s Nick’s rival! What in the world happened when I went back home!?”

“M-Mr. Edgeworth…” Phoenix could feel Gumshoe side glance at him, “You haven’t heard what happened to him?”

“Nick won’t tell me!” Maya huffs.

“Well, to be honest...I’m not at liberty to tell you either. Let’s just say he’s not around anymore.” Ah, yes. The response Phoenix had continued to get whenever he pressed for more details from the man. Or from the police department. For so long he hoped Edgeworth would be found alive rather than dead. Problem is he was never found at all, or so he’s been told.

Maya sounds more frustrated and shocked, “He’s not around!? Nick! What does he mean Mr. Edgeworth isn’t around?!”

This girl is trying Phoenix’s patience and his reply is curt, “Exactly what he said. He’s not around. Edgeworth is gone...Don’t say his name again, okay?” Despite telling her multiple times, she really doesn’t give up easily. He hopes for the sake of his sanity that she’ll listen this time.  

The three stand in awkward silence for a moment until Phoenix clears his throat and asks Gumshoe about the crime, business as usual once more. He can feel Maya’s inquisitive stare, but ignores it. Just like he ignores the thoughts threatening to overflow the roped off corner of his mind.

The rest of the day flies by, which Phoenix is grateful for. When he and Maya part ways to go home, he pretends not to see the lingering worry and curiosity written all over her. At one point she opens her mouth without saying anything and Phoenix nearly hugs her for not asking again. Instead he gives her a tired smile and a “good night” and she responds the same.

The couch calls for Phoenix the moment he steps through his apartment door and he readily answers. Now draped across the moderately comfortable haven, Phoenix fumbles to turn on the television. He flips through a multitude of channels and gives up on finding anything almost immediately, leaving it on some crime show.

He should go over some of the case notes tonight to prepare for the trial tomorrow. He definitely shouldn’t be lying here, staring through the TV, letting his mind wander. Unwelcome images begin to filter through the blockade. No, he needs to get up.

Phoenix groans as he hauls himself to the kitchen, grabbing only a glass of water, his appetite absent. He succeeds in skimming through a few case files before he drags himself to bed. He can’t concentrate right now. Hopefully he won’t have an issue doing so at the trial tomorrow morning. Maybe if he can avoid a certain name until the trial.

He awakens with tear stains on his face, and he wipes them away, grateful he doesn’t remember what caused them. He spends extra time combing over the case files before heading to the courthouse since last night was a bust. This time the words settle within him comfortably, focus coming much easier to him now. Good.

The trial goes rather well, all things considered. For better or worse, Phoenix leaves the court puzzled over how the murderer “flew” away from the crime scene and gains another day of investigation.

Phoenix and Maya leave the courtroom circus to once again visit the Berry Big one in search of answers. The two are stonewalled by Gumshoe when they hope to talk to the other witness, the acrobat. Franziska von Karma is busy with him, of course.

After running around every other lead, they return just as Franziska is heading out. Immediately she flaunts her superior standing, managing to stare down her nose at Phoenix despite their height difference.

Being the ever nosy and protective friend she is, Maya confronts Franziska, “Why do you keep giving Nick the evil eye?! It doesn’t matter if you prove the defendant guilty tomorrow. Nothing will be able to bring your dad back! I know you miss him….”

Franziska scoffs, her hand on her whip, “When did I ever bring up my papa’s name in this, or any other conversation…?”

Phoenix can’t hide his confusion, “Then...then what’s this ‘revenge’ thing you’re talking about?”

“You wouldn’t understand, Mr. Phoenix Wright. I have to see ‘him’ again, one more time. I’m sure you know to whom I refer...Miles Edgeworth!” Phoenix leans back when Franziska shoves a finger in his face.

“Edgeworth?! Mr...Edgeworth?!” Maya nearly screams.

Phoenix can barely utter the man’s name, stuttering through it, “Miles Edgeworth...Why would you even bring him up?!”

“You haven’t forgotten, have you? Do you know who it was that trained the gifted prosecutor, Miles Edgeworth? Manfred von Karma. My papa. Miles was like a little brother to me.”

“‘Little brother?’ Aren’t Mr. Edgeworth and Nick the same age…?”

Phoenix barely hears any further exchange between Maya and Franziska. The thoughts he’s been pushing away tumble forward once more, tormenting him. He sees Edgeworth’s face the moment he broke down. The moment Phoenix gave him a panic attack.

“Mr. Phoenix Wright!” Franziska once again points directly in his face as she addresses him, snapping him back to the present. “It’s your fault he’s gone.”

It’s your fault he’s gone.

The words echo in his head. Each repetition sounds louder. And louder. Deafening.

“It’s the truth, isn’t it Mr. Phoenix Wright?” Franziska sounds so smug, her words so piercing.

“I...I…” He can’t speak. Phoenix briefly wonders if the other two can see how badly he’s shaking.

“Nick! What does she mean?!” Maya’s voice sounds so far away. “...Nick?”

It’s your fault he’s gone.

The words he’s told himself numerous times poison him all over again. He could have stopped him. He tried to stop him. And he failed. It’s his fault.

He forces his eyes to see the woman in front of him. Has Franziska been talking?

“...and all that fool left was a foolish note, ‘Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth chooses death.”

“Mr. Edgeworth...He’s dead?” Maya asks in a small voice.

Franziska clicks her tongue, “I don’t believe it. He’s still alive. I’m sure of it...Somewhere in this world, he’s still alive. ‘Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth chooses death?’ Of course he did!” She takes a step closer to Phoenix, her eyes glaring, “You ruined his reputation as a Prosecutor! You effectively killed the Prosecutor in him. Just like your victory muddied the honorable name Von Karma! I’m going to find him. Then I’m going to teach him th-”

Before he realizes it, Phoenix is shouting, “He’s not like you! You have no idea what he was going through! You have no idea and I-” His voice cracks and he sinks to the ground, his knees meeting the freezing snow. He doesn’t feel it.

Maya immediately moves to his side, “N-Nick? What’s wrong?! Nick?!”

Franziska readies her whip, her brow furrowed, “E-excuse me?! What foolish nonsense is that foolish mouth of yours foolishly spouting?! How dare you yell at a Von Karma in such a manner! Explain yourself!”

Phoenix forces himself to speak, “I’ve had about enough of you.”

Recollecting herself and turning away from Phoenix, Franziska huffs, “Hmph. This dog is all bark and no bite. You must be the one who has no idea. Regardless, I have nothing to inform you two of today. You best recollect yourself because tomorrow will be the greatest courtroom battle this country has ever seen!” As she leaves, Phoenix sees her cast him one further glance, a hint of a perplexed expression on her face.

Maya puts a hand on Phoenix’s shoulder, “Nick? Are you...okay?”

“I just...just give me a minute. Please don’t say anything else about this. I’m sorry, Maya.”

Once Phoenix regains control over his emotions, everything swept back into the corner of his mind, he stands and gives Maya a faint smile and a nod. He can tell she desperately wants to ask him for more clarification, but she’s keeping to his request. He gives her shoulders a small squeeze as they head up to talk to the acrobat.

Now that he’s back on track, the distraction of the investigation helps him stay that way. By the end of the day, Phoenix is certain he’s made valuable connections that will lead to the truth in this case.

As Phoenix waves goodbye to Maya for the evening, he sees her pause, biting her lip, “Are you going to…”

“I’m fine, Maya. I’ll see you in the morning at the courthouse,” Phoenix, already situated on his bicycle, pulls away from her, giving one final wave over his shoulder.

Fixated fully on the case, Phoenix breezes through the trial the next morning. At the end, one thing truly saves the verdict: Franziska’s surprise search of Acro the day before. Because of this, when Phoenix confronts the man, the murder weapon is found on him, on his wheelchair. What confuses Phoenix is Franziska’s reaction--she’s pounding the desk and muttering about her loss and failure. Something isn’t quite right, but he doesn’t have time to dwell on it.

The defendant’s lobby is rather packed after the trial and once Phoenix helps console Regina Berry, he decides to step out while they patch things up with Max and discuss the next steps for the circus.

Now that the case is over, Phoenix fears being alone with his thoughts, but he needed to step away from the lobby. He wonders if can handle moving past the resurfaced pain of Edgeworth again. As he walks aimlessly, his ears catch his name and he rounds a corner to see Gumshoe on the phone.

“You mean Mr. Wright?”

Phoenix doesn’t mean to eavesdrop, but hearing his name leaves him curious.

After a long pause where he must be listening to whomever is on the other end of the call, Gumshoe responds, “Yes, sir! I’ll be waiting for you! Goodbye, Mr. Edgeworth!”

Wait, what? Mr. Edgeworth? Phoenix’s vision dims. What was Gumshoe saying? He couldn’t be talking to Edgeworth. He couldn’t be, but...there’s nothing else that could mean. Franziska was right, wasn’t she? He really is alive. Alive and Phoenix didn’t know. Maybe Franziska actually knew and was just being purposefully cryptic. Gumshoe obviously knows, too. What if Phoenix is the only one who didn’t know?

Did Edgeworth do it on purpose? It couldn't have been planned from the start, right? No, the emotions he saw from him that day were definitely genuine. Was it something he said? Or did? Why? Why?! Why?!

But he's alive.

Phoenix leans his full weight against the wall, his eyes unfocused and unseeing. Anger and relief fight within him. Confusion and betrayal bolster the fury. All the guilt melts into a torrent of disdain.

But he's alive.

"Nick? What are you doing?"

Maya's voice wakes Phoenix from his inner debacle. He notes the empty space where Gumshoe was standing as he turns to the younger girl. The effort of reigning in his emotions drains any energy left in him after the trial, and his shoulders slump, "Just, you know, getting some air."

"But this is just the hallway."

"J-just a figure of speech, Maya. I'm exhausted. I think I'm going to go straight home and deal with paperwork tomorrow. Maybe we can celebrate then instead?" Phoenix realizes he's speaking too fast but can't seem to stop himself as he starts moving away from her, "Feel free to go home too, of course. Good job today and I'll see you tomorrow!"

He knows she's likely standing back there dumbfounded. He knows he'll likely get a call from her; he silences his phone.

He petals home so vehemently his legs burn as he stumbles into his apartment, fumbling to lock the door behind him. He throws his briefcase onto his couch where it bursts open, and Phoenix curses. Papers scatter, a few slipping under his coffee table. A clink catches his attention. What was in his briefcase that would make such a sound hitting the table?

A small keychain stares up at him from the carpet, the blue Signal Samurai glaring at him. Thump. Phoenix’s heart contorts as his blood runs cold. He forgot. After that incident so many months ago, Phoenix couldn’t bear so much as looking at the thing hanging from his phone any longer. He stuffed it in a pocket of his briefcase, unwilling to throw it away even if he wished to hide it away.

Now there it lies, taunting him.

Leaving the mess untouched, Phoenix staggers to the kitchen to dig through a cabinet. Sleeping pills. He needs some sleeping pills. He hasn’t had to use them for a few months and doesn’t usually like relying on them, but he can’t be conscious right now. He swallows a couple quickly, not even checking the dosage, before he hurls himself into his bedroom.

Phoenix strips his suit off down to his boxers and collapses onto his mattress. He curls in on himself, repeating the same few words over and over until sleep takes him: Don’t think about him.

Chapter Text

Falling. The sensation sends waves of panic and confusion through Phoenix. What happened? Where is he? 

He forces his closed eyes to open; an endless abyss greets him, stretching its maw to swallow him whole. Color doesn't exist within. Light barely peeks from crevasses of the beast's throat, leaving deep shadows pointing to the black depths. 

Screaming. He hears himself as his limbs flail, hoping to reach stability. He can't. He doesn't. 

Images start forming on the ever extending walls around him and like a film reel it plays a memory. Miles Edgeworth with a tear-stained face, his mouth spewing soundless anguish. Phoenix himself taking the other man's hand. The press of their lips together, desperate. Aching. Edgeworth recoiling across the room, a mad grin cutting across his features. Laughter. 

Wait, that's not right. Edgeworth didn't…. 

Splash.

A flood forces its way in when Phoenix gasps, leaving him gurgling. Even as he tries to propel himself to the surface, he sinks. Pressure around his ankles sends shocks of pain up his legs and Phoenix can't help but look down. 

Slender, pale hands grip him. He can't see the face of the person they belong to, but he realizes he sees color again. Just one, familiar: magenta. 

Phoenix shouts to them, or rather he attempts to. All he manages are some bubbles and more water in his lungs. 

The being starts tugging Phoenix down further, its hands traveling up his body, until they are face to face. 

The color he saw wasn't what he thought. Fire red burns around them, surrounding a twisted face that pains him still, "Doll-Dahlia?" He's able to speak again, though it feels as if he choked the name out. 

The young redhead, still as he remembers her from years ago, releases him and flips her hair, "Of course. Do you not recognize your old flame? The one your precious mentor helped send to death row? You won't call me the way you used to?" 

Phoenix watches as she steps back and lowers herself to perch on a nearby couch. 

When was that there? Where did the water go? 

The sofa appears faded, not in the sense of old age, but more as if it's out of focus. Blurred. Whereas Dahlia is as sharp as he learned he tongue was. 

"Why are you here?" Not that he knows where "here" is. Phoenix tries to swallow and when he can't, he fears all the water he swallowed and sucked in must have frozen within him. His body feels heavy and stiff, muscles barely responding. He's not sure if he's even breathing.

Dahlia chuckles, "To remind you, of course."

"R-r-rem-" Phoenix's teeth chatter. He's cold. So cold. He manages to move only one foot closer to Dahlia. A warm glow surrounds her, inviting. 

"Yes, remind you…" she stands back up and takes a step towards Phoenix. Then another. Slowly. Until he expects to feel the wave of heat radiating from her, craving it even knowing he never wants to be close to her again, except he's freezing. But there's nothing. Nothing but cold - in the air, in her eyes, in her smirk, in her hand brushing the side of his cheek. 

"Feenie…" 

"Wright…" 

"What a joke you are."

"W-wha? How-Mi-Edg… Nng," Phoenix closes his eyes and grips his head as two voices overlap and the hand slips from his face. 

"Honestly, how can - anyone ever count on you for anything?" 

Phoenix doesn't understand. One voice is gone. Dahlia's voice is gone so why can he still hear…why does it sound like…. He opens his eyes. He looks back at the person in front of him. 

Oh. 

Through a grey curtain of hair, empty eyes stare at him. Dull, but accusing. They are getting closer. And closer. Until Phoenix feels a crash against his lips, all too familiar. Warm. Finally. The other's tongue plunges into Phoenix's mouth, his body pressing them close, flush. And, all too familiar, the feeling is gone.

An icy, pale hand clamps over Phoenix's mouth instead, pushing him back. Cold. Again. Now Phoenix can see a deep sneer on the other man's face, the crimson of his overcoat reddening his grimace. 

Edgeworth's voice echoes, guttural and vicious, "You disgust me."

And Phoenix wakes up. 

Chapter Text

Maya Fey is worried. 

She knows something terrible happened regarding Mr. Edgeworth while she was away, though she still has no idea what. Maya is used to Nick avoiding the topic and long gave up trying to get information from him directly in that regard. 

She's noticed how Nick's smiles and laughs over the past however-long since she's been back don't always reach his eyes like they used to. She often throws in extra stupid jokes in the middle of cases in hopes to relax those tense shoulders of his. It works sometimes, especially when Pearly is with them and winds up confused, leaving Nick chuckling trying to explain. 

Maya's come to terms with how Nick's been, opting not to meddle. Much. Or at least, that's what she thought up until after Max's case some odd weeks ago. 

Nick's demeanor changed. He's been trying to hide it, of course, but it's all too obvious to Maya. It's as if he went from slumping into himself like jello to a rubber band pulled taut, about to break. 

About a week after the end of the circus case, Maya cornered Nick in the office, "Okay, look, I know you never wanna tell me anything, but what has been stuck up your butt these days?" 

Having just taken a sip of whatever's in the mug he's holding, Nick sputtered, "Excuse me?! Wha-?" 

"Nick, you look like you've been gritting your teeth so tightly for days now that I'm surprised they haven't been ground down!" Before he could respond, Maya pushed a finger to Nicks's forehead, "You've had permanent wrinkles between your eyebrows even when you thought you were smiling! Come on!" 

Nick swatted her hand away, shaking his head, "It's just this time of year. I'm fine."

"Is that why you're avoiding Gumshoe?" Maya crossed her arms. 

"Wha- I'm not avoiding him! What do you ev-" 

"So when he stopped by yesterday to drop off some paperwork you left at the courthouse, you just so happened to have to use the bathroom? Despite having just gone ten minutes before then?" 

"We-well it must've been something I ate!" 

"You hadn't eaten yet." 

"Then maybe that's why!" 

A drawling sigh filled the room, "Okay, Nick. Nevermind." Maya barely caught an expression of guilt on the man's face as she turned around to continue tidying the office. She pretended not to hear the faint apology behind her. 

Now Maya sits with her cheek in her hand at the reception desk, staring into nothingness. Nick is in the back room doing some much-needed reorganizing but no, he didn't need her help and she should watch the front in case a client came in, anyway. 

She's bored. Nick is still being a stick-in-the-mud. And they haven't had a case since the circus. 

Maya sighs, but chokes on her exhale when the office phone rings. She fumbles to pick it up, "Hello, this is Wright and Co. Law Offices, Maya speaking!" 

"O-oh, hello Ms. Fey. This is-" 

Maya stands up, slamming her free hand down onto the desk, "Will Powers?!" 

"Y-yes, it's me. I'm calling because I wanted to invite Mr. Wright, a-and you of course, to the upcoming award ceremony for-" 

" Yes, yes! I've been so excited for it! Are you saying we could actually be there?!" 

"That's my intention. I wanted to do something more for all you've done and-" 

Maya cannot sit still nor resist cutting the generous man off again, "You're awesome, Mr. Powers! I'll make sure Nick's schedule is free!" 

The back room door creaks open, "Free for what, exactly? Geez, Maya, you're being just a bit loud, don't you think?" 

Maya grins and tells Powers to hold on as she covers the phone's receiver, "Nick! It's Mr. Powers! We're invited to the award ceremony, this is so amazing, I accepted so we have to go and you have to make sure you're open that day!"

She watches Nick run a hand down his face and take a deep breath, "Slow down, Maya! What ceremony? For what? When? Don't just accept without consulting me!" 

Maya waves his words away as she turns around to resume the phone conversation, "Sorry about that, Mr. Powers! As I said, we gladly accept!" 

" Maya!" 

"I-is Mr. Wright there? Is he alright? He sounds a bit upset…." 

"Oh he's fine! So about the details… Oh! It's it okay if I bring Pearly?" 

"Pearly…?" 

"Oh, right! My little cousin! I've been wanting to get her into these series and she'd be so excited!" Maya dodges a few of Nicks's attempts to swipe the phone from her. 

"Oh o-of course! I'll send an extra ticket. Along with the details. If you need a ride or anything comes up, let me know, okay?" 

"Absolutely! Thank you so much, Mr. Powers! I'll call you when we get the stuff! Bye!" Maya hangs up without waiting for a response as the receiver is snatched from her hand. She peeks at Nick's face. He's glaring. 

"Maya, care to tell me what that was about?" 

"We get to go to the Hero of Heroes Grand Prix!" 

"The…what?" 

Maya sighs, "I've only been talking about it all month! I know you’ve been out of it, but honestly! Do you listen to me anymore?”

Nick scratches the back of his neck and glances away, “Oh yeah, I do remember that actually. I suppose after the third time you brought it up, I started tuning you out...sorry.” Maya puffs out her cheeks and he continues, “Okay, fine, when is it again?”

“March 20th!” she grins, “This is so exciting! It’ll be good for you to get out, too, Nick! I bet there will be amazing food there too! Free food, Nick!”

“Well I suppose I can’t argue with free food…” Nick mumbles in front of her.

“YES! I have to call Pearly! I can’t wait!” Maya bounces on the balls of her feet as she calls home in Kurain to tell Pearly the good news. She watches as Nick shakes his head and sighs, but delights in the small genuine smile that crosses his face. This event is just what he needs as a pick-me-up and that’s not just Maya’s bias speaking. Or so she thinks.

Chapter Text

A familiar tune wakes Phoenix. He groans and paws for his phone on the end table, answering when he finally locates it, “Hng, who is it?”

“Nick! Wake up! Mr. Powers is going to pick us up at the office in only thirty minutes! What are you doing?!” Maya’s shrill, scolding voice startles him awake. He thinks he hears a faint “Hurry, Mr. Nick!” in the background from Pearls, too. 

“Oh, crap. Alright, I’m coming. Be there soon,” Phoenix hangs up before Maya can yell at him any further. 

He sets his phone back down where he found it, next to a nearly empty bottle of sleeping pills. He's been taking them like a bedtime snack for weeks now. Maybe he grabbed more than two the previous night so he slept through his alarm. Or he forgot to set the alarm in the first place. Maybe both. 

Either way, Phoenix hauls himself out of bed, dresses and hurries out of his apartment to make the meet-up time. 

When he turns the corner and sees Maya and Pearls still waiting outside the office with no ride in sight, Phoenix relishes in slowing his biking pace. He sits fully back in the seat and coasts the final distance, stopping behind the two girls. 

"Finally you made it!" Maya says as Phoenix exchanges hellos and quick hugs with Pearls. "We thought you were going to make Mr. Powers wait after he's being so generous!" 

"Yeah, yeah. I got here in time anyway," he huffs, locking his bike in front of the building like usual. Just as he turns back to face the street, he hears someone pull up. Barely in time, even. 

After excited pleasantries upon seeing Powers, they all pile in the van the actor must have chartered them. Phoenix elbows Maya when she not-so-quietly grumbles about hoping for a limo. 

Maya's eyes are all sparkles the moment they enter the venue, though, all disappointment about the mode of transportation gone. She grabs Pearls by the hand and leads her or, more accurately, drags her further inside to explore. 

"Hey! Don't go too far or bother anyone! The show starts in -" Phoenix turns to look at Powers for the answer "-only thirty minutes! We need to be seated in-and she's gone." He sighs and smiles sheepishly at his host, "While I expected this may happen, I'm still sorry." 

"Oh it's no problem, Mr. Wright. I'm sure they're used to kids poking around," Powers hunches just a little as he watches after the two girls running off. "They're good at keeping important things closed off." 

"I wonder…" Phoenix trails off, but smiles to himself. Perhaps this was a good idea to come. 

To Phoenix's surprise, Maya and Pearls are at his side when Powers ushers them to find seats. He's almost certain they teleported. 

As the show finally starts and the heroes are introduced, Phoenix can hear Maya whispering all sorts of extra information about them to Pearls. The younger girl looks like her head is spinning, but she's nodding and listening intently, her eyes shining in awe all the while. He chuckles to himself, finding the two more entertaining than finding out whatever kid's show hero wins the prix. 

When the Nickel Samurai steals the stage, Phoenix almost climbs over Powers to avoid Maya's flailing cheers. He certainly has to put a finger in his ear to even slightly muffle her shouting. 

They soon find themselves back in the hall, Maya still babbling on about the winner and some other rival hero. While Phoenix enjoys seeing Maya happy, he can't say he cares for the subject matter. 

Phoenix doesn't realize he's zoned out until Maya starts pushing him towards the lobby, where a stage show and press conference she mentioned previously is about to start. "Okay, okay, we're going!" 

A number of attendees already swarm the lobby, eagerly awaiting the after-show. Chatter halts the moment an announcement addresses the crowd. Canceled. Unforeseen circumstances. 

"D-did they just say police?" Phoenix sputters. He just can't go anywhere. "What in the world happened?" 

He almost wishes he didn't ask when he hears a familiar voice prevent him and Powers from investigating. Wendy Oldbag. Why she's now a security guard here at this venue is beyond him. He barely listens as she prattles on, only continuing the conversation out of courtesy. He knows he won't get much information from her, but something she says soon makes his blood run cold. 

Phoenix stays silent as Oldbag explains some asinine tale about that man. He wishes he didn't hear Maya repeat the name, emphasizing it in his mind. His hands hurt from clenching them at his sides. He hates that Miles Edgeworth's face forms in his mind so easily. 

Maya grabs his attention, calling his name almost too loudly. He's grateful for the wake up call, though he's unsure if she could tell he was fuming, especially when she leans in close and suggests they sneak off to investigate. Same old Maya. 

Despite his subtly upturned lips, Phoenix tries to refuse, not wanting to go against police orders. Of course it only takes a minor amount of goading to convince him otherwise. A necessary distraction.

Once back in Viola Hall, where the initial show let out, they don't get to look around at all before someone approaches Maya. Apparently she has a call from Kurain at the front desk. Phoenix watches her walk away, briefly wondering how long the call will take and if it's really all right to let her go. At least the police must already be here and watching the place. 

Phoenix and Pearls continue to the hallway with the restroom at the end, where he's certain he hears a commotion near the actors’, Matt Engarde and Juan Corrida, rooms. He instantly regrets it when they get closer. While he didn't want to see him, he expected to run into Gumshoe, but he never expected to run into the reporter, Lotta Hart. 

Upon being noticed, the two arguing bombard Phoenix with questions they don't give him time to answer. Lotta runs off and Phoenix is left face to face with Gumshoe, the man who aided in letting him believe his dear friend was dead. Or who once was a dear friend, anyway. A dear something. 

Even though Phoenix knows Gumshoe was likely pushed into silence, he can't help feeling deceived by him, too. He pleaded with the detective many times to tell him anything in the few months after that man's disappearance. Gumshoe kept saying there was no new info. And then he started to flat out refuse, simply feeding Phoenix the classic line of "if we find anything major, I'll let you know." That was obviously a lie unless the good detective doesn't consider finding out Miles Edgeworth is alive to be "major". 

"Mr. Wright? You in there, pal?" 

Phoenix blinks and finds himself staring at Gumshoe's hand waving in front of his face. He grimaces, "Yes, detective. I was…thinking. Momentarily." 

He feels a tug at his side, "Are you okay, Mr. Nick?" 

"Yes, Pearls. I'm fi-" 

"Did you even hear a thing I said, pal?! I started to think I was talking to a wall! Other than the little miss here, of course!" Gumshoe huffs and then mumbles under his breath, "It's bad enough you've been avoiding me, but ignoring me right in my face? Come on, pal…." 

Phoenix glosses over the (accurate) accusation, "I'm sorry, just been a busy night and now this. Can you tell us what happened?" 

"That's what I was trying to-! Augh, yes. Only a bit. Can't have any leaks right now." 

Phoenix learns of the victim, Juan Corrida and the suspect, Matt Engarde. Unfortunately, he isn't given much else, so he bids Gumshoe farewell for now and returns to the lobby with Pearls. 

He immediately updates Powers and he's given a strange transmitter, which only moments later beeps for attention. 

Maya…has been kidnapped? 

Phoenix barely hears Pearls crying as his vision dims in and out. In and out. This can't be happening. He hears Maya's screams for help behind the kidnapper's flat voice; he talks as if he's negotiating any old business transaction. 

"You only have one chance. One chance, Mr. Wright," the cold voice says. 

How? How can he win this in a single trial day? But he has to. To get Maya back from this kidnapper. This De Killer. 

The transceiver goes quiet and Pearls's sobs take its place, "It's all my fault! Mystic Maaayyaaaaa!" 

Phoenix grits his teeth and pulls Pearls in for a hug, patting her back, "No, Pearls. Don't worry. We'll get her back." He should have gone with her, but neither him nor Pearls could have known. But he still should have gone with her, "It's not your fault." Phoenix is a hypocrite. 

When Powers mutters something about the police, Phoenix tenses and shoots him down, "We can't! Maya could…" 

"W-what about that detective man from before?" Pearl manages to squeak out between hiccups. 

Gumshoe. Phoenix closes his eyes and bites his tongue. He's likely their best shot, even if he isn't happy about it. It's for Maya. For Maya. 

"Pearls, stay here. I'll go talk to Gumshoe," Phoenix nods to Powers before running back to the hallway, hoping the detective will still be there. 

Phoenix swallows his aggravation with Gumshoe's betrayal as he explains the situation, trying to keep Gumshoe from screaming at the top of his lungs in shock, "Do you want to alert the whole building?!" 

Unfortunately the situation looks grim with Matt Engarde swimming in evidence against him. The very man he was told to acquire a complete acquittal for is being framed. Or is he actually guilty? With Maya's life at stake, does it really matter? 

For now Gumshoe tells Phoenix he'll be unable to move around while the police investigate so the next day Phoenix can begin his own search. He hopes morning comes quickly. 

A couple sleeping pills and a number of hours later, Phoenix reconvenes with Pearls at the office, still restless. Despite the heavy worry frantically ripping him apart, one look at Pearls's face reminds him to stay strong. He'll have to let her do the crying for him, for now. 

First things first, Phoenix heads to the detention center with Pearls. He needs Matt Engarde to officially ask for his defense, otherwise how would he get him an acquittal? All it took was utterance of the name “De Killer” for Engarde to relent; Phoenix tries to ignore the twisting of his stomach at the possible reasons why.

Pearls tugs on Phoenix’s sleeve and he leans down to hear her whisper a reminder of the magatama. Of course! All he has to do is ask Engarde directly.

“Just so we’re clear, dude, I didn’t kill anyone, and that includes Juan Corrida, okay?”

No chains, no locks, nothing but relief. Phoenix smiles at Pearls who nods in return, finally with a small smile of her own. Matt Engarde is innocent. 

Soon Phoenix’s notes are filled to the brim. Every so often he stops investigating to recollect himself in a conversation with Pearls. They stop for a bite to eat and he gets to keep her mind preoccupied as well as his own. He needs to run back and forth between people, breaking through their lies, reorganizing evidence upon gaining new information. Again and again. Phoenix almost feels numb, trying to avoid dwelling too much on Maya’s situation, knowing he needs to focus on the trial for her sake. 

With everything from the past day swirling in his mind, Phoenix forgets to be upset with Gumshoe and wholeheartedly thanks him instead. The man has been true to his word, keeping Maya’s kidnapping a secret while assisting best he can. Phoenix honestly feels terrible when Franziska catches them talking in Juan Corrida’s room and whips Gumshoe senseless. 

After further head-scratching investigation, he returns to criminal affairs, hoping Gumshoe has better news for them. He doesn’t. On top of that, Franziska once again sees them together and promptly dismisses Gumshoe. 

“You can’t seem to stop allying yourself with the enemy, can you? I don’t need a traitor in my midst. Scruffy, you have thirty minutes to get out of here. You are no longer needed. Good bye.”

Gumshoe’s face pales and Phoenix’s hands ball into fists. She doesn’t know about Maya. Even if she did, though, would that change anything? She’s a von Karma, after all. Thanks to Gumshoe’s good nature and Franziska’s desperation for victory, the detective is being fired? What kind of bull is this?

A voice cuts off Franziska’s fretting, sending a chill down Phoenix’s spine. He turns to the source and his mouth runs dry, “E-Edgeworth?!” 

“It’s been a long time...Wright.”

The world lurches and Phoenix clutches a nearby desk for support. He stares at the man in front of him, speaking so nonchalantly to Franziska von Karma as if the past year and some months never happened. As if their exchange right before he left never happened. As if he’s not even standing here right in front of him. 

A burning slash across his arm snaps his attention back to Franziska for a brief moment, still unable to process the words she spews at him before stomping out of the building. He watches her go, dazed, until Edgeworth clears his throat.

“Should I not have hoped for a little more of a ‘warm welcome’ for someone you haven’t seen in over a year…?” Edgeworth wasn’t looking at him. Not directly. 

“Why the hell are you here?” Phoenix hears himself say. That was his own voice, wasn’t it?

“Did you not hear my conversation with Franziska? It’s certainly time for me to return to the prosecution.”

So it was for her? After all this time, all this pain and confusion and Edgeworth still hadn’t given him a second thought? Didn’t think to tell him anything? Still doesn’t think to explain anything? How can he speak to him this way? Who the hell is standing in front of him right now? 

“Wright?” Edgeworth finally looks Phoenix in the eyes and reaches out a hand towards him. Phoenix slaps it away and takes a step back. He ignores the lingering sensation spreading from the clipped touch. 

"I see. I get it,” Phoenix shakes his head. Whoever this man was before him now is no longer the one he once knew. The man he thought he knew. 

"What on Earth are y-" 

"Stop," he squeezes his eyes shut, trying to will away the pain in his chest. He still looks like the man Phoenix knew. 

A slow, hesitant step taps on the floor in front of Phoenix and the voice he's longed to hear sounds closer, "Wright, I-" And he knows he has to shut him up, the voice coiling through him a danger. He still sounds like the man he knew. 

But he's not. He can't be. He must be a stranger; what else could justify such betrayal? A stranger. He’s just a stranger. 

This Miles Edgeworth is a stranger.

Phoenix snaps his eyes open and sees the man in front of him freeze in place, closer than before. 

A stranger.

The defense attorney numbly extends his hand, “Phoenix Wright of Wright and Co. Law Offices. Nice to meet you, Prosecutor Edgeworth."

Chapter Text

Miles feels the corners of his lips curl upwards as he hears the boisterous laughter. He looks over his shoulder and startles, seeing a young, spikey-haired boy catching up to him. Miles sputters a laugh and picks up his pace, rounding a thick tree at the edge of the park.

As he comes full circle, he runs straight into Phoenix, who now wears a striking blue suit with a red tie. He's grown up, as has Miles. 

Although confused, Miles smirks, "I suppose you have caught me, Wright."

"And what good has that done me?"

"W-what?" 

Miles retreats a step as Phoenix shoves himself into his space, "Don't act surprised." 

He watches as tears well in Phoenix's eyes, his face pressing closer.

Wait.

Something is wrong. Those aren't tears. 

Is his face melting? 

Miles stumbles backwards, his back scraping against bark. He squeezes his eyes shut, shuddering when he hears a disturbing, distorted sound. Another rambunctious laugh, underlaid with a hiccuping sob. 

Miles Edgeworth stirs. He squints his eyes open against the light filtering through his bedroom’s curtains. 

His bedroom. 

Miles rolls onto his back and drapes an arm over his eyes, heaving a deep sigh. He’s been back in his own home for around three months now, but he’s still not accustomed to it. One would think many years living in a place would outweigh the year away, but he supposes when said time spent across the world was surreal, it would leave a heavy impression. While gone, he worked to be a new person, a better person. A better prosecutor. Now that he's here, back in his home, would he relapse? All the reminders of who he once was exist in past day to day routines. Routines he's falling back into.

Not to mention the dreams. 

Miles huffs out a sigh as he gets out of bed and prepares for a long day. Last night he heard from Gumshoe about a murder in the Gatewater Hotel, where a certain award ceremony had taken place. He's only a little sour he couldn't attend. "A little" only because of the crime committed afterwards. He would never admit how much he had sulked earlier that day. 

The detective also told him that Wright attended, presumably invited by Will Powers. Maya Fey and her younger cousin, he believes he was told, also tagged along. 

Now Wright is defending the accused and Gumshoe sounds as if he's hiding something. Miles is always concerned when the good detective withholds important information, but usually he isn't doing so on purpose. This time, however, Miles can tell and he can only deduce it has something to do with Wright's involvement. 

Phoenix Wright. 

Fully dressed, Miles sits with a cup of tea in hand and stares through it. He intends to assist in the investigation of the Corrida case, especially since Franziska is heading it, just as he did her last one. This time, however, he will be here in person; he has no doubt he'll run into Wright. 

What will he say? How will Wright react? Sadness? Anger? Apathy? 

How does Miles want him to react? In no way that he expects, of course. 

Miles knows Gumshoe tried a few times early on to persuade him into informing Wright about his disappearance. At the time, Miles could only bear to focus on himself, looking inward. He consistently cut the detective off before hearing full details, merely saying that Wright will be made aware "soon."

Gumshoe gave up asking after the first couple of months. 

Then "soon" turned into over a year. And now, he'll be forced to meet Wright in person. Miles wants to see him. 

He's still afraid.

"I'll think about this later," he mumbles aloud, moving to take another sip of his tea. There's none left. He sets the cup onto its saucer and carries them both to the kitchen. 

He grabs his suitcase and keys, glancing around to ensure he has the necessary belongings before locking his front door behind him as he leaves. Easing himself into his red sports car, Miles pushes the key into the ignition and his eyes linger on the red signal samurai swaying from the motion. Ever since the incident over a year ago, he felt it pertinent to keep a reminder of Wright, and the words that saved his life, within sight, especially while driving. His keyring seemed fitting enough. 

Ironic, then, that Miles kept the man himself far out of reach. He has yet to acknowledge the reasons.

The prosecutor's office building soon comes into view as Miles arrives safely. He immediately buries himself in work, learning everything he can about the Corrida murder case and compiles all his notes. 

Hours later, he soon realizes he needs to explore and acquire certain evidence he doesn't have access to in his office; he'll have to go to criminal affairs. 

Upon entering and making his way further into the department, Miles hears a commotion. He instantly recognizes the harsh reprimands of his sister. The responding whimper can only belong to one person: Detective Gumshoe. 

When Franziska outright fires the man, Miles picks up his pace. Despite his own troubles with the good detective and regular threats to his salary, he never intended or even wanted to relieve him of his position. 

"W-Wait...please wait, sir! If I don't get this month's pay, I'll star—" Gumshoe is quickly cut off.

"Quiet! If it weren't for traitors like you—"

Miles reaches them, clipping Franziska's own statement, "'I would've won.' Is that what you want to say?"

Miles barely hears his sister's questioning squawk. His eyes slide to Wright as the man speaks.

“E-Edgeworth?!” 

“It’s been a long time...Wright.” Miles swiftly studies Wright's expression. His mouth hangs open. Brows knit. Blue eyes wide, though wavering. He catches a flicker of something passing over his gaze, but forces himself to turn back to Franziska. He barely even registers the small voice coming from beside Wright.

"What am I going to do with you? Still blaming others when things go wrong? You haven't changed a bit, Franziska."

"Y-You…how dare you show your face to me without a shred of shame upon it!? You've soiled the Von Karma name and dragged it through the mud. Run away with your tail between your legs like the ill-bred dog you are!"

Miles fights to keep the hurt from his face lest she grasp ahold of it. Despite not showing it, he is indeed ashamed, even if not for the reason she assumes, and he most certainly did run away. In some ways he still is, isn't he? Fleeing. Afraid of the man in the corner of his eye drilling a hole into him with his gaze.

He steels his voice, "Are you talking about the Von Karma family creed? 'To be perfect in every way.' Then let's hear it, Franziska. How are things going? I hear you are having a rough time maintaining perfection in this country." He lets a smirk slide on his face, knowing his sister needs to learn what he finally accepted. "You seem to be getting crushed under the weight of it all. That's why I came back." 

He knows that last statement was only partially true. 

"Keep your assumptions to yourself! I... I haven't given in yet! I won't lose! This case is mine! I'll never hand it over to you! Never! Mr. Phoenix Wright! I will see you tomorrow. In court. It will be a clinical lesson on the meaning of 'total victory!'"

Miles watches her storm off. 

With a sigh, Miles turns back to Wright. The man looks tense yet absent as he's now staring towards Franziska's retreating form. 

After a brief hesitation, Miles clears his throat. Once Wright tilts his head in his direction, Miles speaks, trying to ignore the hardening glower, “Should I not have hoped for a little more of a ‘warm welcome’ for someone you haven’t seen in over a year…?” Miles finds he cannot help but avert his eyes as he grabs one arm with the other. 

He had known the chances were low, but he could not help the miniscule ray of hope that built up deep within him. 

He was a fool.

“Why the hell are you here?!”

Miles recoils at the venom lacing Wright's voice. 

It's alright. Again, he expected this. He takes a deep breath to calm himself before replying, “Did you not hear my conversation with Franziska? It’s certainly time for me to return to prosecution.”

Miles watches as Wright's face morphs. Again his eyes grow large before squeezing shut. His entire countenance tightens. Lips pull back into a sneer as his hands curl into fists at his side. Even when he reopens his eyes they remain mere slits of fury. Or is that grief? The man's brow quivers, confused over whether it wants to pinch up or down. Is he shaking? 

“Wright?” Miles moves closer and feels the need to reach out to him. Comfort him. Explain and apologize. Why is he reacting this strongly? It doesn't make sense. Does it?

He extends his hand, but Wright slaps it away and takes a step back. Miles feels the sting in more places than one.

"I see. I get it,” Wright shakes his head. His voice is a quiet rasp. Miles is unsure if he was meant to hear it.

"What on Earth are y-" 

"Stop," Wright screws his eyes shut again, refusing to look at him.

He feels his chest constrict, his heart shrinking away from the sharp coils snaking around it. 

Why did he not think this through?

Why did he wait so long?

A loathing, guttural voice rings in Miles's mind, You know exactly why, don't you? Coward.

He runs a hand through his hair as he shakes his head. He refocuses on Wright and takes a slow step in his direction. He fails to keep his voice from shaking, "Wright, I-"

Miles is just about to place his hands on Wright's shoulders when the man's eyes wrench open. Stabbing. Accusing. Hatred? Miles freezes. After a beat, he jerks his arms back to his sides.

Before Miles can open his mouth, he watches Wright extend his right hand and speak without emotion, "Phoenix Wright of Wright and Co. Law Offices. Nice to meet you, Prosecutor Edgeworth." 

"Wright, what-" 

The defense attorney snatches Miles's hand and grips it in a firm shake. When Wright lets go, Miles brings it to his chest defensively, feeling a slight throb. He's unsure if it's from his fingers or his heart. He stares with his mouth agape. 

Wright turns to walk away, but talks over his shoulder, "The Miles Edgeworth I knew wanted me to think he was dead. So you and I? We've only just become acquainted. Now if you'll excuse me." 

No. No, this is not what was supposed to happen. Yes, Miles knew that Wright would be upset. Furious, even. But this? What even is this? 

"What even is this?" Miles finds himself voicing his last thought. He watches as Wright's shoulders tense but the man keeps walking away. 

If Miles doesn't stop him, what will become of them? Complete strangers outside of the courtroom? No, no he doesn't want that at all. 

Miles's hand is already reaching for Wright's shoulder, grasping it to turn the other man around. The shock on the man's face is more preferable than the blank stare he was given before.

"What the hell-" Wright starts.

"Phoenix Wright. Join me at my office. Now," Miles didn't intend to be demanding and yet he fell into familiar speech. He adds on a quiet "please."

"Prosecutor Edgeworth, you're making a scene. What gives you the right to make demands of me? I don't have time for this!" 

Wright tries to shove the hand off his shoulder, but Miles tugs him closer, "If it's because of the case, I have details regarding it that we could discuss as I'm not the acting prosecutor." Miles can feel the desperation oozing from his voice, "Please come to my office, Phoenix." He feels a hint of victory when Wright's face softens for the briefest of a second and then feels self loathing for knowing he called him by name purely in hopes to lower his guard. Even more so because it worked.

"Fine. But not until after I take Pearls back to the village." 

Miles assumes "Pearls" is the young girl that has been staring daggers at him with puffed cheeks from behind Wright. Setting aside any thoughts of the angry child, Miles responds, "Good. I'll be waiting."

Wright's neck creaks forward in a brief nod before the man pulls out of Miles's grasp. He heads out the door, his hand tugging his young companion out with him.

Now Miles just needs to figure out what he'll actually say.

Chapter Text

"Mr. Nick, please slow down!"

Phoenix halts and flinches when the small girl following him runs straight into his legs. He puts his hands on her shoulders, steadying her, "Oh, I'm sorry, Pearls. I didn't mean to…I'll walk more carefully."

Pearls rubs her nose before biting her thumbnail; Phoenix dreads that look. He knows she must be about to question him. He needs to prevent that. Grabbing a hold of her hand, he says, "Come on. Let's get to the train station."

"Please wait, Mr. Nick!" the young girl plants her feet and Phoenix feels the jolt up his arm. "I can't go back! Not until…until…."

"Pearls…" Phoenix turns to her and kneels down, looking at her directly. "I know, but I shouldn't keep dragging you around like this. Plus, I…I need to talk to Mr. Edgeworth alone. I can't take you with me there."

"Then! Then let me stay at the office! You've let Mystic Maya stay! I won't be trouble!" Pearls pleads, her fists tight at her sides.

Phoenix sighs, briefly closing his eyes, "Alright. Okay, fine." He runs a hand through his hair and stands up, "Then let's go."

Phoenix holds out his hand again and squeezes Pearls's when she takes it. 

Before long the two walk into Phoenix's office and he brings Pearls to the back room, "Stay back here and ignore any knocks at the door. If anything happens, use the phone to call the police. And me. I don't know how long I'll be, but I'll try not to take too long. We have more investigating to do, don't we?" He gives the young girl a soft smile.

"Yes! Thank you, Mr. Nick! I'll be just fine here!" Pearls pulls up her sleeve, determined.

With a nod and another small smile, Phoenix leaves the office, locking it firmly behind him. 

He catches a bus to the Prosecutor's Office, his mind also barreling down the road at great speeds the whole way. 

Why is he even entertaining this? He's furious. There's nothing this stranger can say. 

Is there? 

It's still Miles Edgeworth. Despite everything, he knows that was really him. Of course it is. Just seeing him took Phoenix's breath away. Everything he'd felt over the last year overflowed in that moment.

Guilt. Sorrow. Torment. Longing. Relief. Anger. Betrayal. Fury.

Phoenix shakes his head. It was almost too much. 

Tears prick the corners of his eyes, but Phoenix reigns them in. He's not about to cry on public transit. Already he's noticed a few fellow riders side-eyeing him. Can they read his thoughts or has he been muttering aloud again? He bites his lip.

His heart can barely handle everything. He still has to save Maya, for God's sake! 

Right, that's what he should do: focus on the case. Only talk business with Edgeworth. Prosecutor Edgeworth. Get the information the man claims to have and then leave. 

Phoenix almost misses his stop, hopping off the bus moments before it takes off again. 

He soon finds himself in front of Prosecutor Edgeworth's office door, his fist raised, shaking. He can't seem to swallow and beads of sweat creep from his brow. He takes a moment to wipe it off before attempting to knock again. If he merely brought his fist a little closer, the shaking would undoubtedly knock for him. So that's what he does.

The knocks are short and spastic but must be enough as immediately a voice calls out from within, "Enter."

He struggles to turn the handle, rattling it. Phoenix curses under his breath. He hears stirring from within the room and Prosecutor Edgeworth muttering.

"I am quite certain I left the door unlocked."

Taking a deep breath and steadying his hand, Phoenix manages to open the door before the other man reaches it. He instinctively pulls out an excuse, "It-it felt a bit stiff at first."

The prosecutor lets the flimsy bluff go as he gestures for Phoenix to enter further. Phoenix hears the click of the door and stiffens, but keeps quiet. His eyes slide across the familiar room. Too familiar. Uncomfortably so considering the last time he was here was over a year ago when he thought…when that event took place.

"Wright?" 

"Huh?" Phoenix is torn from his memories as Edgeworth steps in front of him, his face scrunched in what might be a look of worry.

"Please have a seat if you need."

The thought of sitting down on that couch turns his stomach. A flash of tears. Of a kiss. Of pain. No, he'll stand, "I'm fine here."

Edgeworth's brow pinches, but he nods. He opens his mouth to speak, but Phoenix doesn't let him, "You told me you have details of the case you can share, Prosecutor." He watches the other man's face twist and a sense of satisfaction creeps up Phoenix's spine, but the tightness in his chest opposes.

"Ah, yes, I did say that. And I do," Edgeworth turns to his desk to grab some files. He pats them as he faces Phoenix once more, but when Phoenix reaches out, Edgeworth pulls back, "But first. First, we need to talk, Wright."

Phoenix feels the sneer on his lips, "There is nothing to discuss, Edg-Prosecutor Edgeworth." 

"You can hardly keep up this farce. You have the right to be angry, but this is ridiculous," Edgeworth clenches his teeth in defiance. 

"Ridiculous? Ridiculous you say?! Are you trying to toy with me again? I've said before, I have no time for this! I've gotta save Ma-my client from a guilty verdict and you are impeding my investigation."

"Toy with…? Wright-"

"So are you going to show me those files or should I leave and stop wasting my time?" Phoenix holds his hand out, his eyes flickering to the files clenched in Edgeworth's grip.

Phoenix watches the prosecutor's throat bob, his mouth twitch and his face settle into resignation. 

"Here, then. Take them."

Phoenix nearly drops both files thrust into his hand, a page of the first fluttering to the ground despite his efforts. Shit. 

When he picks up the escapee, Phoenix's eyes widen, "Suicide? Oh, regarding Celeste Inpax." 

"You would do well to view the second part, too."

Unable to ignore his curiosity, Phoenix flips to the second file and gasps, "Attempted suicide? By…Miss Andrews."

Edgeworth nods and flatly relays extra details, as if on autopilot. Despite the tension, Phoenix listens intently, apt to absorb any and all knowledge he can regardless of who it's coming from. Court case discussion comes more easily. To both of them. 

The topic, however, looms heavy over Phoenix. He doesn't want to think about suicide or any form of, yet he must if he wants to confront Miss Andrews and better understand this trial. He needs to set aside his feelings. For Maya's sake. For Maya’s sake. For Maya’s sake.

For Maya’s sake.

"I think I have enough to go on now to talk to Miss Andrews. Thank you for the information," Phoenix tucks the files under his arm and turns to leave. Professional. Detached. He grimaces when Edgeworth calls out to him.

"Wright. Please do not leave in this way. I-"

"This is all I need for now. If I have more questions, I'll stop by again, Prosecutor Edgeworth." Phoenix flicks open the door latch and rushes out of the room, nearly slamming the door closed.

He can't take the time to process what Prosecutor Edgeworth might want to say to him. He can't let the thought, curiosity nor desire consume him. He has a witness to confront, a case to solve, and a dear friend to save.

————

The moment his office door stops shuddering from the force of Wright fleeing, Miles whirls to slam a fist on his desk.

"Scheiße!"

He rounds the desk and drops into his chair. Placing his elbows on the polished wood, Miles leans forward and shoves both his hands into his hair, grasping it and tugging.

"Verdammt noch mal!"

Miles still feels the cold, icy chill from Wright's obstinate glare. Such an accusatory stare. He could feel guilt slithering across his body, constricting his chest, biting his throat. 

He still remembers the warmth in Wright's gaze when he comforted him, pleaded with him. That time was over a year ago now. Miles did not trust in that warmth then. He was scared of it. Ran from it.

Now he longs for it.

Miles keeps reminding himself that he expected this reaction. 

But not to this extent.

He knew Wright would be upset with him.

This isn't just upset. This is so much more. Anger. Loathing. Hatred. 

Deserved.

Miles shakes his head, loose strands breaking free from his grasp to curtain his eyes. He sits upright and forces his hands to relax, resituating his hair before settling his arms across the fine wood of his desk. 

He inhales and holds. Exhales. Inhales. Exhales. He continues in this way for a few minutes. 

Once he's a bit calmer, Miles gathers a number of papers and files that were left astray into a pile in front of him. He sets to organizing them as he reads and rereads important documents and notations. 

He will go over all aspects of the Engarde case he has in hand and anything that is discovered throughout the rest of the day. 

He will compile everything needed.

And then later he will pay a visit to a certain lawyer's office and bribe his way in with information if he must, assuming said man will be there. If he isn't, Miles will simply wait. Be patient. Be persistent. 

Be desperate.

But for now, he has work to do.

Chapter Text

The first time he drives past Wright & Co. Law Offices the lights are off. Miles reasons Wright must still be investigating; it's still afternoon, after all.

The second time Miles checks Wright's office he almost crashes into a pole when he veers to a side road. The other man had just exited his office in what looked like a hurry and instinctively Miles did not want to be recognized. He realizes how strange that is considering he intends to confront Wright, but it needs to be on his terms. He catches a glimpse of a young girl hurrying behind Wright. It seems she did not return home as Wright mentioned earlier. Curious.

Now the sun just recently set and he hopes by this time he can finally catch Wright inside his office. So when Miles approaches the office for the third time and finally sees the lights on, he sighs in relief. 

He parks along the street and takes a deep breath before climbing out of his car. Halfway out he curses and drops back onto his car seat to reach for the briefcase he almost left behind. He cannot go while leaving his bribe behind now, can he?

As he nears the entrance on the second floor, Miles tenses. When in front of the glass door, his brow tightens. Something isn't right.

Inside, he can see Wright pacing with what looks like some kind of radio. A transceiver? His arms are animate and his face is scrunched and upset. The young girl behind him looks as if she's crying. What is going on?

Without regard for tact, Miles tests the door and it opens readily, unlocked. Immediately he hears a fuzzy, but familiar voice erupt from the device in Wright's hand before it cuts off. Was that Miss Fey?

"Sis? What did she mean by…?" he hears Wright say as the young girl behind him transforms directly before his eyes into an older woman. A familiar woman. Has he not seen Miss Fey look similarly in the past? What was it again? Ah, yes. Spirit channeling. He could never forget the term and yet still cannot accept the reality in front of him, even when her eye catches his.

"Phoenix. Before we talk, turn around," the young woman presses her lips together and tightens the hold on her own arms.

"Mia this is no time for waiting! Tell me Maya is okay!"

That's it, Mia was her name. Mia Fey.

"Phoenix! You have a visitor," she points directly at Miles. Wright huffs and finally spins around.

His face. Wright's face looks panicked and pale. There's a slight glistening on his forehead. His eyes are blown wide and vulnerable. Is he trembling?

"Edgeworth? Why the hell are you here?! Get out!" Wright roars. If he wasn't shaking before, he certainly is now.

"Wright, what's-"

"Phoenix," Mia clamps a hand on Wright's shoulder. "Calm down." Before Wright can snarl a response, she looks to Miles, "What are you doing here and what did you hear?"

"I…" Miles clears his throat, "I came here to speak with Wright. I do not know what you fear me knowing, but I only heard what sounded like Miss Maya Fey's voice. Coming from what Wright has in his hand."

"I see." Miles watches Mia as she studies him. She must find what she's looking for as she turns back to Wright, "Phoenix. I think we should tell him. So please, both of you listen to me."

He hears, but cannot understand, quiet arguing between the two. A consensus must be reached as Mia clears her throat and begins explaining.

Miles's head spins with new information. Maya Fey was kidnapped and is so far safe but in bad shape. Her kidnapper is still unknown, but it happened after the award ceremony. If only she could have seen more. 

"But wait. He says he is an assassin and that he wants what? A full acquittal? For Matt Engarde?"

Wright still won't look at him directly, "Yes. So I have to win the trial tomorrow. Tomorrow is the deadline!"

"Wright, can you not see the problem with this? Surely you can ascertain the reason this assassin would demand such a thing? If he is actually the one who killed Juan Corrida then his client must have been-"

" No! I won't believe it. Engarde said he didn't kill Juan! He has to be telling the truth!"

"He was not the one who killed Juan Corrida, the assassin did! Not to mention people lie, Wright!"

The other man freezes. He finally looks Miles in the eye, "Yes. Some do." The words sting as if Wright shot him. Is he suggesting something? Accusing him of anything? Before Miles can deduce the answer, Wright continues, "But Engarde couldn't have been lying. It wouldn't make sense!"

"Because of the psyche-locks?" 

Both men turn to look down at the young girl where Mia once stood. That is incredibly jarring. Besides that, what is she talking about? Wright seems to understand as he merely nods in agreement.

"I have no idea what the two of you refer to, but nevertheless this assassin must have a client. And that client is most likely Matt Engarde. My question to you now is: did the assassin give you his name?"

Miles hears Wright mumble something heated under his breath before he replies, "I-I think it was de Killer."

"What?! Are you certain?!"

"Yes, I'm pretty sure. Is—does that mean something to you?"

"How strange. He always leaves a calling card so how was there not one near Juan Corrida's body?" Miles shakes his head, "Regardless, this means we need to put together a rescue party immediately."

"Edgeworth, you didn't answer me—wait you can't! He said he would kill her if the police got involved!" 

A realization sparks within Miles, “But you told Detective Gumshoe?”

Wright sputters, “How did you-”

“Before you get upset any further, he did not inform me. I merely deduced as much considering the good detective has obviously been hiding something from me. Now his fumbling tight lips make sense.” Miles sighs, “I understand that you are worried, but de Killer is a professional assassin and one we have been after for quite some time. With Miss Fey in danger, we should waste no time in organizing a team to reclaim her.”

“We don't even have a hint as to where she is being kept. If de Killer finds out the police are searching for him, he'll…” Wright bites his lip. 

“You said that already, Wright. I assure you that a special force has been trying to track down de Killer for ages. They will be the ones to handle Miss Fey’s rescue.” Miles puts a finger to his forehead, massaging his furrowed brow, “We also cannot avoid bringing de Killer to the court’s attention at the very least. Although, again, I am perplexed by the fact there was no calling card. Without that, we cannot prove the assassin's involvement unless he deigns to speak for himself.”

Wright crosses his arms, his voice still shaky, “As if he would agree to that. But wait, you said a card? You know, this may be nothing but I noticed Adrian Andrews twirling a card in her hand when I spoke with her earlier. It had some kind of shell on it.”

Miles’s eyes go wide, “That is precisely what de Killer’s calling card is. That must be it, but why would Ms. Andrews be in possession of it?”

“She said she wasn't sure where she got it from, but what if she was his client?” Wright starts pacing, “If that's the case then Matt truly is innocent!”

Miles frowns, “Why would she remove the calling card from the crime scene if she knew what it meant? Wright, think clearly. I know you wish for Mr. Engarde to be innocent, but you must see the truth. Can you truly let a guilty man free?”

Wright stops pacing and turns a glare on Miles, “The truth is that Maya is in danger! The only way to save her is getting an acquittal. Besides, Adrian is a possibility! I will pursue this in court tomorrow if I have to.”

“Wright, I learned a multitude about being a prosecutor during my time away. I believe that what you are doing now, blindly believing in your client, is clouding what you should be doing as a defense attorney.”

“Are you really lecturing me right now?” Wright’s lips curl into a snarl, “What right do you have?” His hands squeeze into tight fists, “A dead man has no right to stop me from saving Maya’s life! Crawl back into the hole you came out of!”

Miles recoils. He regrets the timing of his words, but he recollects himself and his resolve despite the hatred Wright is emanating, “I know you are frightened, but we-”

“There is no ‘we,’ prosecutor. Get the hell out of my office!” Wright steps forward, moving into Miles’s space. He pauses after a mere moment, however, and Miles blinks at him in confusion, having expected to be shoved out the door. 

He watches Wright look behind him where the young girl is holding onto the fabric of Wright’s jacket. The poor girl that the two have been ignoring for a while now. 

She speaks quietly, “Mr. Nick, I don't really get everything you were saying, but,” her eyes shimmer, “wouldn't more help for Mystic Maya be good?”

Instantly Wright’s face falls and he kneels next to the girl, “Oh, Pearls. I'm so sorry for this display.” He sighs and places a gentle hand on her head, “Maybe you're right. I'm just worried about what might happen.”

“I am too,” Pearls bites her nail. “I just want to save Mystic Maya.” 

“I would like to assist. Please give me that chance, if only for Miss Fey,” Miles says softly. 

Miles watches Wright close his eyes and take a deep breath. He exhales slowly before standing back up. 

The other man turns to Miles, his eyes still sharp, “We have no leads at all as to where Maya is being kept, other than the barest description Mia gave us. Anyone can have a wine cellar.”

“I understand that it sounds grim, but the sooner I form a rescue party, the higher the chance they find her. I will ensure they scour the hotel for any signs of where he may have taken her. Let me make a phone call, Wright.” He pulls his phone out, but looks to Wright, awaiting his permission.

Wright runs a hand through his hair, further messing up the strands, and sighs, “Okay. Okay, fine.”

Miles gives a small smile, hoping to be reassuring. Based on Wright’s face, it did nothing to help. He turns away and moves towards the sofa in the room. He sets down the briefcase he has been holding before easing himself onto the cushion next to it. He makes a number of calls, first to Gumshoe, who was more than happy to assist now knowing that Miles was aware of the situation. Then he takes care of the special division and investigators to set up the rescue as well as combing the hotel for any information related to de Killer. The entire time, he feels eyes staring at him, but refuses to look else he may get distracted from the task at hand. 

Once all calls have been made, Miles puts his phone away and finally looks over to Wright and Pearls, “There. I have contacted who is necessary and plans are now in motion.” He turns to his briefcase, unlatching and opening it. “Now, I have here information on the case that we know up to this point. With what we just learned, much of this evidence is questionable and nonsensical. Since the trial is tomorrow morning, perhaps we should go over this together now to better prepare. I will also need to inform Fransiska of the assassin, but I feel that I should wait until we have a better understanding of what happened so that I can discuss it with her in full.”

Wright has his arms crossed and his eyes averted. The young Fey looks between the two of them, lost. 

A few beats of silence pass before Wright turns and looks down at the young girl, “Pearls, it’s been a long day. Go into the back room and get some sleep on the couch. I’ll wake you up when we can go back to my apartment…assuming I’m not here all night. Either way, I’ll be here if you need me, but please try to get some rest.”

Pearls bites her lip, but nods up at Wright. Before heading to the back room, however, she walks up to Miles, “Mr. Eh-ji-werth, right?” Miles is caught off guard but confirms her question. “Please help Mr. Nick find Mystic Maya.”

Miles widens his eyes a bit, but softens and gives Pearls a small smile, “I will do my best, young Miss Fey.”

Pearls smiles back at him. She turns to Wright and gives him a quick hug, mumbling a quiet “good night.” She then gives a small wave as she enters the back room, closing the door behind her. 

Wright watches the door for a few moments after Pearls leaves, presumably giving her enough time to reach the couch and lie down. The soft expression on Wright’s face drops as he looks back at Miles, “You actually intend to walk through the case with me?” His voice is like ice.

“Yes, now come sit down.”

The other man’s face twists, unsure of what expression to settle on, “And how is Prosecutor von Karma going to feel about this? This is her case.”

Miles shrugs, “Hence the reason I can be loose with information. This is not my case.” He of course leaves off his intention of bribery just so Wright will actually talk with him.

Wright shakes his head, “She won’t be happy.”

Miles smirks, “She rarely is with me.” He gestures next to him, “This will be easier if you sit.”

After a moment of hesitation, Wright walks over to the sofa and sits on the other side of Miles’s briefcase, keeping it between them. This does not go unnoticed by Miles, but he doesn’t speak of it. Instead he grabs some papers from the case and looks them over, “Without the witnesses themselves, this will be a tad difficult, but we must make do with what we have. Currently there is a list of evidence the prosecution and detectives have found as well as some witness testimonies. I also have anything that may be relevant to the case that I am aware of, including the reports I showed you earlier. Finally, I’ve put together some notes for myself as a means of putting ideas and conclusions together.” He hands the evidence list to Wright, “Here, look this over.”

The defense attorney grabs the list and mechanically does as asked. His brow furrows, “Why is there so much to implicate my client when we know the assassin is the one who killed Juan?”

Miles smirks, glad that Wright caught one of the main issues immediately, “That is certainly one curious observation. I have a theory, but I do not have a clear motive behind it.”

“Besides Matt himself, only Adrian Andrews had access to the knife. And then there’s the button which she could have planted.” Wright shuffles through a few papers, “She’s even the one who found the body.”

“Correct. You catch on quickly. Still, we have no reason why she would do such a thing without being able to ask her.”

“One witness even said she saw Matt himself leave the room?!” Wright runs a hand down his face. “How can that be?”

Miles hums in thought, “As I said, there are quite a few confusing aspects to the case that I may have been able to explain away before knowing of the assassin.”

“Of course you could’ve…” Miles hears Wright mutter under his breath. 

For a while the two go back and forth, comparing evidence with witness testimony and going over Miles’s notes. Miles feels a small sense of relief at the exchange, feeling as if they are back in the courtroom together. 

Then Wright sets down all the papers he was holding and leans his head back on the sofa, “Why are you doing this, Edgeworth?”

Miles looks to him and watches as Wright tilts his head, ensuring his eyes are fixed on Miles’s own. Miles shifts uncomfortably, “What do you mean?”

Wright closes his eyes, “I do not understand you. Why would you potentially compromise the prosecution’s case by sharing all this with the defense attorney?”

Miles laces his fingers together and leans forward, his face pointed down in his lap, “I-”

Want to make it up to you?

Thought to bribe you just to get you to talk to me?

Want to explain myself to you?

Want to apologize?

“There is more to being a lawyer than winning the verdict. I learned that from you. I learned even more from studying abroad. Working together is necessary to find the truth.” 

“The truth, huh?” Wright lets out a humourless laugh, “What would you know about truth?”

Miles jolts and looks back over to Wright, who is now leaning towards him over the briefcase, a finger pointed at his chest. 

Miles doesn’t get a word in.

“You kept the truth from me, letting me believe a lie for over a year ,” Wright’s voice is strained as he keeps it to a low level, “ I don’t know what you are up to or why you are doing this, but you better not be playing me again. Not after what you did and not when Maya’s life is on the line.”

Miles grabs Wright’s wrist, “Listen to me when I say this. I have a lot to answer for and I want to explain when I can, but at the very least please believe me when I say I merely wished to help you. I will do what I can for Miss Fey and for you.”

Wright yanks his hand back from Miles’s grip and holds it close to his chest, “You’re damn right you have a lot to answer for.” Miles can see the other man’s eyes glisten as he thinks he hears Wright mumble something along the lines of “I want to believe you, but…” when Wright turns his head away. 

A long silence passes.

“Perhaps I should go. It is late and you should get some sleep for the trial tomorrow.” Miles wants to stay. He wants to talk things through with Wright, but he knows now is not the time. He needs to call Fransiska before she ends up bombarding his phone with inquiries when news reaches her. He starts to recompile all the paperwork and place it back into his briefcase. Wright stays quiet through the process, still not looking at Miles.

Miles moves to stand, but as he does so he feels a tug on his sleeve. He turns and sits back down when he sees the look on Wright’s face. His eyebrows are drawn up, his deep blue eyes are swimming with unshed tears, and his mouth is slightly parted. He looks so vulnerable, such a contrast to being guarded all night. Miles wonders how much of that was to stay strong for Pearls and how much was to show his disdain for Miles himself.

He waits for Wright to speak. 

“I know how I’ve been acting and I’m not sorry but I-” Wright slowly lets go of Miles’s sleeve, “but I still have to thank you. For doing this. And for trying to help Maya.”

Miles softens, “Of course, Wright.” He slowly reaches out a hand towards Wright before he realizes what he’s doing. When the other man’s eyes widen, Miles stops just short of wiping away one of Wright’s tears. Miles closes his hand and quickly pulls back, mumbling an apology. “I will be watching the proceedings tomorrow and I will be keeping in close contact with the team searching for Miss Fey,” he clears his throat and stands up, grabbing his briefcase. When none of his clothing is tugged and no words are said, Miles starts to walk to the front door of the office. 

He looks over his shoulder, “Goodnight, Phoenix.”

As he heads out the door, he thinks he hears a very small, “Goodnight, Miles.”