Make note: this fic contains spoilers forPhoenix Wright:Justice For All. If you haven't played the game yet, you might want to reconsider reading it.
Oh, and let it be known that I do not own these characters. They belong to Capcom. If I owned these characters...let's just say the term "world domination" may have had cause to be used at some point...Mu-hahahahahaaaa...
(P.S. - this is my first submission, so please tell me what you think! )
Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth chooses death.
It had taken nearly a year for Phoenix to admit to himself just how deeply the words on the brief note had shaken him, but he had, and he'd even managed to get over the tragedy, to some extent. Now…
Edgeworth looked great, and everyone else was almost acting like he'd never been gone in the first place. It wasn't fair, and seeing his face again brought back all of the memories of the near breakdown he'd had when he thought that his rival, his childhood friend, had ended his own life, and it was hard, so hard not to just haul off and deck him in the company of Maya and Pearls and all of their other friends who had come to celebrate the prodigal Prosecutor's return.
Their celebratory dinner was thankfully smooth. Maya, Pearl and Gumshoe supplied enough conversation and entertaining antics to keep Phoenix from having to make many contributions of his own. He got away with it by feigning tiredness – though only half of it was an act. The case had been upsetting enough to warrant it, what with Maya's seemingly imminent murder hanging over his head.
"Hm?" He looked up from his plate, vaguely aware that someone had asked him something.
"I was just wondering what you're gonna do, now that the case's wrapped up." Gumshoe asked, grinning lopsidedly. "You look like you could use a vacation, pal."
"I'm just going to go home and sleep for a week." Phoenix replied, to the general amusement of all. It was true, though. He wanted nothing more than to just shut himself up in his apartment, but his real motives ran more along the lines of avoiding Edgeworth and all of the things that had come back with him. The only person at the table who didn't laugh was the Prosecutor himself, but Phoenix didn't particularly care. It felt enough like there was a ghost at the table that he could just pretend that what he was looking at out of the corner of his eye was nothing more than the memory of a scowling face seen across a courtroom aisle.
It wasn't all that late when they left the Hotel. He'd been able to use Pearls as an excuse to cut the dinner party short, she and Maya were leaving for Kurain in the morning and even with all of the excitement she had been all but falling asleep at the table. They were staying at Mia's old apartment, and Phoenix escorted them by cab rather than bus. It wasn't much of an extra cost, and more than worth it to make sure that the tired girls actually made it back home in one piece, but he didn't bother telling the cabbie to wait. He needed the walk.
It was a little chilly, but if anything the cold only helped to clear his head. By the time he got back to his apartment he was genuinely tired, and he fell asleep on the couch as soon as he sat down, only to awaken to the sound of his cell phone alarm, reminding him that he had to meet Maya and Pearl at the train station for their final farewell.
Phoenix waved until he was positive there was no way for either Pearl or Maya to see him standing on the platform and just stood there for a while, watching the train. He sighed deeply, a sudden pang of loneliness tightening in the pit of his stomach. Now there was no one around to bother him about going for an early lunch. No odd insights into people or places. No one to complain to about the Steel Samurai poster that was still holding pride of place on the wall of his office. And, quite possibly worst of all, no more surprise visits from Mia.
"So, they're gone?"
Phoenix spun on his heel to stare at the speaker, having nearly jumped out of his skin at the low sound of his voice. He didn't trust himself to respond right away, and Edgeworth looked away awkwardly.
"Yeah. They're headed back to Kurain." Phoenix finally managed to say, clearing his throat loudly. "Maya's going to be the next Master of the Channeling Dojo up there and she can't stay here if she's going to get the training she needs."
"I'm sorry I missed them." Edgeworth said, sounding genuinely disappointed.
"They'll probably be back for a visit sooner than later."
Phoenix had no idea what the silver-haired prosecutor was up to, trying to make small talk. He felt like he was standing on thumbtacks, and this was turning into quite possibly the most uneasy conversation he'd had in a long time. Talking to Edgeworth about Maya and Pearl's departure made him think of when he'd left, and Phoenix wasn't ready for his old school buddy to know how much that abandonment had hurt.
"Wright…"
"I'm really sorry, Edgeworth, but I can't hang around any longer." He said curtly, only making the slightest effort to look at the time on his cell phone's display. "I have some errands to run." Almost against his will, he felt the corners of his mouth tug upwards in an uneasy grin.
"Oh, yes. Of course. Please don't let me keep you, Wright." Edgeworth replied, his carefully cultivated disinterested expression cracking just enough for Phoenix to see a deeper twinge of disappointment. Phoenix strode away before he lost control and either started shouting or punched his old friend in the mouth. He wasn't feeling patient enough to play along with whatever stupid game Edgeworth was trying to push on him. He did manage to do one errand before he gave up entirely, dropping by his office to pick up a couple of folders of paperwork and water Charlie; however, the brief exchange had made him less than willing to mingle with the general population, and a week's worth of sleep meant that he wouldn't even have to think about Edgeworth's return from the dead. He scribbled a hasty note to stick on the office's door in case anyone came looking for him and caught the bus outside the building. He got back home, sat on the couch, and after a brief moment of absolute silence, retreated into the kitchenette to retrieve a glass and the lone bottle of bourbon that he'd received from Grossberg, untouched since it had found its way into his home some time around New Years.
His cell phone woke him again, but this time it was for a call, rather than an alarm. The Steel Samurai ring tone Maya had downloaded onto it sounded unnaturally loud, but then it didn't help that he had a massive hangover. He managed to snag his phone off of the coffee table on the second try and hung up without looking at the caller's number. They'd leave a message, and in any case he reasoned that he was in no shape to answer them. The light from the screen needled into his skull, and he stuffed his hand, phone and all, under the couch cushion he'd been sleeping on. He was happy for the first time that week that he was so alone. No one would miss him if he didn't get up and go out. No one would care if he just lay on his couch and slept his headache off.
His phone, however, had different ideas. Even muffled by the cushion, Phoenix could hear it ring. His thumb was already over the End Call button, so he just hit it, but by then he was awake enough to feel his body forcefully reminding him about urges that were only natural after one finishes three quarters of a bottle of alcohol by oneself, so he hauled himself gingerly off of the couch and tottered in the direction of the bathroom, leaving his phone sitting on a couch cushion. A hot shower and some aspirin helped ease his headache, and by the time he'd changed clothes and put his hair to rights he was feeling almost human. He had heard the ringer go off a couple of times while he was getting changed, but hadn't felt any urgent need to answer. He wasn't interested in taking any cases yet, and anyone who knew him well enough to call him on his personal phone rather than at his office had been told his intentions of sleep at the dinner.
Things were, however, getting a little stupid. The ringer went off again as he was digging some takeout out of his fridge, and he stood in the kitchen, staring at the thing lit up in the dark for a while.
Why the heck would anyone need me that badly? There's no way it's about the trial, and Maya and Pearls only left yesterday morning.
He wasn't even finished eating when he heard a commotion in the hallway. It sounded like a track team was marching up the corridor, and while Phoenix was standing in the dark, wondering who in their right mind would be making that kind of noise, the door to his apartment flew open with a splintering crash and his living room was suddenly rather full of very noisy people, and they were all looking for him.
"What in heaven's name is going on here?" He shouted over the cacophony, stalking out of his kitchen just as someone flicked on the lights in the living room.
The somewhat cluttered, rather small room was currently filled with the last group of people Phoenix ever expected to see. Gumshoe and a rather charmingly civilian-looking Maggey Byrd were standing by the window, like they'd been checking to see if it was open or not. Will Powers was standing by the couch with a handful of the papers Phoenix had taken from his office, and beside him, Larry Butz was standing with the nearly empty bourbon bottle in his hand and an expression like he'd just seen a ghost on his face, and Lotta Hart was frozen in the act of – oddly enough – inspecting the wastepaper basket. Strangest of all, though, was the sight of Miles Edgeworth hovering in the doorway like he was afraid to come in. His expression, more than any of the others, seemed terror-stricken.
"Next time we all have a party at my place, would you mind terribly if you tell me first?"
"You're alive!"
The manic babble that followed Larry's original outburst was deafening. Phoenix was transfixed, take out box in hand, and everyone seemed so happy to see him that he was completely unprepared when Edgeworth's fist sailed in seemingly out of nowhere to catch him square on the chin. Phoenix fell back into the kitchen, landing on the linoleum and skidding far enough to hit the top of his head against the cabinets. He didn't have enough time to pick himself up before he was hauled off the floor by the front of his shirt, brought face to face with an angrier Edgeworth than he'd ever seen in court.
"What the hell kind of stunt were you trying to pull, Wright?" Phoenix winced a little, Edgeworth's bellow grating on his still present headache.
"I'd love to answer, but I have no clue what's going on."
"This."
It took him a second to register the scrap of paper. Edgeworth was holding it so close to his face that the handwriting was a little hard to read…
Defense Attorney Phoenix Wright is gone.
Phoenix blinked, surprised. That was the note he'd left on his office door, but it fell drastically short of explaining why everyone thought he was…
"Oh."
"Yes, 'oh'." Edgeworth shook him roughly by the collar. "We've been trying to get a hold of you for the past three days, Wright."
"Three days?" Phoenix racked his brain, but for the life of him he had no idea how long he'd slept after his bourbon-fest. It might explain why he'd felt like he'd been run over by a garbage truck when he woke up, though.
The full weight of the situation finally crashed down on him. They were all here for the same reason many of them had swarmed Edgeworth's house and office…because of a note, and a lingering doubt…
Any other time it might have struck him as funny, but the hurt fury in Edgeworth's eyes only made him angry.
How the hell does he get off being mad at me for this? Especially when he was so calm about just pretending to die and actually disappearing for real
He suddenly found himself returning Edgeworth's gaze glare for glare and swatted his hand away from his shirt.
"Well, you can all go home now. I'm not dead." He said, trying his best not to let them see how angry he was. It wasn't their fault that Edgeworth's hypocritical paranoia had lead to this. Enough of his feelings were translated, though, that they cleared out almost as quickly as they'd entered. Phoenix noticed for a second that Larry had taken the bourbon with him, but didn't really care. He'd looked shaken enough to deserve what was left.
When Edgeworth tried to stalk out, however, Phoenix grabbed him by the shoulder and shoved him back towards the couch.
"You aren't going anywhere, buddy. I want a word with you."
Phoenix waited until the door shut behind his last unexpected houseguest and dragged a chair from his kitchen table over to it to keep it closed. When either Gumshoe or Powers had put their shoulder to it the deadbolt had torn right out of the old door frame, just one more thing for Phoenix to deal with. The chair also served as a bit of a barricade. It would by no means keep Edgeworth from leaving if he wanted too, but it was a rather visual way to put across the idea that Phoenix intended to have this little chat regardless of the Prosecutor's feelings.
Edgeworth opened his mouth to say something, but Phoenix cut him short with a glare, waving his finger meaningfully.
"No. I'm going to do the talking. I've heard enough out of you for a while, and I figure it's time for you to get your own earful."
Edgeworth looked at him for a minute, but took a seat on the couch.
At least he's willing to listen now
"I think I've figured out what this, at least," Phoenix gestured around at the ransacked room, going back to fetch the other chair from the table so he could sit across from Edgeworth, "is all about." He set the chair down with a dull thump, taking a seat and leaning forwards. "You seriously thought that I was going to do something drastic, and when you broke in here with the rest of them and saw me just standing there instead of hanging by a noose from the rafters, you thought I'd done it on purpose to get back at you." He crossed his arms over his chest, frowning deeply. "Pretty egotistical of you, Edgeworth, thinking everything I do revolves around you."
"Dammit Wright…"
"Oh, you have an objection do you? Go ahead; tell me what's going on if that's not it. Come on, you don't have any problems telling me what to think when we're in court."
"Why is it that you always have to be so goddamned stubborn?" Edgeworth growled, running a hand distractedly through his hair and glaring off into a corner of the room. "Even Butz will give up eventually, but not you. It wasn't until you represented me that I actually allowed myself to admit you weren't taking the impossible cases on for the prestige, but once I figured that out, I suddenly found myself out of my league. When I wasn't feeling miserable because I was sure that I'd killed my father, I was feeling miserable about the fact that you actually believed that I hadn't done it. When I found out that the whole time you'd taken those cases because you really trusted your clients…when I finally witnessed first-hand just how much of yourself you sacrificed because you really believed that they were innocent…" He shook his head, still refusing to meet Phoenix's eyes. "When you told me that Engarde was crooked, I thought you were going to have a breakdown. Your entire career was made up of defending clients that you believed in, and now you were being forced to get a guilty man an acquittal, or be responsible for Miss Fey's murder. At first I just worried about what a false innocent verdict would do to you, but when I realized that you actually couldn't let the bastard get away with it I didn't know what to think. You'd undoubtedly blame yourself, even though it was the right decision. I…I didn't know what you'd do if the plan hadn't worked."
"That still doesn't explain the unexpected house party. Maya's fine. We got Engarde."
"I...was worried, alright?" Edgeworth shouted, his frown deepening. "I owe you too much to let you go off and do something stupid. I haven't had a chance to pay you back yet."
Phoenix groaned, clapping his hands over his face and leaning back in his chair.
How the hell do you stay mad at this moron? He must be a sadist. He just can't take "pro bono" for an answer. Or, apparently, "you're my friend; of course I didn't think you could do something like that."
"You've been a jackass in the past, but this really takes the cake." He didn't move his hands, but the silence from Edgeworth told him more than a good look would have. "Well, consider the door part of your payment. Part. One of these days, I'll ask you for a big favor, and then we'll be even."
Edgeworth was smart enough to take that as a dismissal, and the sound of him evicting the sofa was a welcome change. Phoenix sat up and looked back in time to see the prosecutor pull the chair away from the broken door, and was more than a little satisfied to see a somewhat guilty look on his face.
"Hey, Edgeworth. What time is it?"
"Four thirty pm."
"Great. Swing by around six. We'll go out for dinner."
"What?"
Somehow Phoenix managed to keep from grinning, even when faced with the best expression of utter confusion he'd seen in ages.
"Larry walked off with the last of my booze, and I figure that if I'm going to try this again, you'd better be just as far gone as I am. Just…don't leave any notes lying around."
Author's Note: Man, did I have problems submitting this thing... But there you go! My first fanfic! Cheers :)