A/N: I do not own Phoenix Wright, Miles Edgeworth, Maya Fey or Pearl Fey; they belong to CAPCOM. The plot, Claire and the names of Maya's & Pearl's husbands and children are mine. :D
An elderly Phoenix reflects on his life after Miles' death three years earlier and hopes that this Christmas they can finally be reunited. Angst aplenty.
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At last I have this done! It's very difficult, I've found, to write angst when you aren't feeling particularly angsty! :sweatdrop: Ah, well... I have it done and that's the main thing! :D
Anyway, this story is the sequel to "Requiem" and the title is the name of a Richard Marx song, "Right Here Waiting" and it was, and still is, one of my favourite songs when I was a teenager in the 80's. Interestingly enough, I wrote the short opening for this story long before I started writing "Requiem" but finished the latter first! Go figure... This is also a song fic and the very first one I've ever written so I am a little nervous about posting it. Anyway, I hope that the emotions come across as intended in this AU piece!
A few things. There is no such place as Marguerite d'Youville Hospital that I know of although there is a St. Marguerite d'Youville Pavilion [Nursing home & Residential Care Facility] in Lewiston, Maine which is named after a Canadian born saint, Marguerite d'Youville [1701-1771] and one of my favourite saints. There was a Youville Home-renamed Spaulding Hospital Cambridge after its purchase by Spaulding Rehabilitation Network; the new name went into effect as of November 15, 2009-in Cambridge, Massachusetts. It's interesting the things you can find out with a simple Google! :D
I searched the 'Net but I was unable to find who is/are the author(s) of this quote: "A great man has passed; we shall not see his like again..." anywhere after multiple searches; however, I have seen the first half pop up in obituaries all over the place in varying forms. The second half, minus the first, has also popped up on the 'Net in obituaries as well but the two halves are never-as far as I can see-quoted together. I don't know who was the first author(s) of the first and second halves of the ending quote so one could reasonably conclude that both halves are popular obituary sentiments although the author(s) remain unknown and I've simply mushed them together. Miles' dialogue is in bold italics.
The various places and tourist attractions are from the following websites: London, England, Scotland, Wales & Ireland: Tourist Information UK (www(dot)tourist-information-uk(dot)com) and the rest are from Planetware(dot)com.
In reference to Phoenix's fluctuating mood swings between happiness, indifference and depression, this isn't uncommon to those who have lost long-time partners. While he may already have one foot in the grave, as it were, he doesn't really care all that much about life and living and longs to be reunited with deceased Miles. It would be an extremely difficult adjustment to make after being together with Miles for sixty-five years and that's putting it quite mildly! So it really isn't surprising, nor unexpected, that he would have mood swings in varying degrees of severity; who could really blame him for that?
Hope you all enjoy this piece!
Thank you to all my readers: those who have commented, read, reviewed, favourited/story alerted my stories and thanks also to those who have author alerted/favourite authored, as well! I appreciate it very much! I am glad that you are enjoying my stories and I hope that you will continue to enjoy them in the future! :)
Thank you to my betas, ShadowSuzaku [past] and Midnight-hunter [present] for all your comments and insights! I really appreciate it! :)
Extra Special thanks go out to my beloved husband, DezoPenguin, for all his encouragement, love, concern, advice, nagging (when necessary), keeping me grounded during the writing process so that I didn't end up tearing my hair out and for reigniting the fire within me to write! Love you, honey, and MANY, MANY, MANY, MANY thanks!
As always, comments and suggestions are welcomed and much appreciated!
Rated Teen, AU, male/male relationships, Comfort/Hurt, Phoenix & Edgeworth
Song: Right Here Waiting
Artist: Richard Marx
Lyrics taken from lyrics(dot)com
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October 24th, 2089
Marguerite d'Youville Hospital
Intensive Care Unit
Los Angeles, CA
6:55 P.M.
I sat beside the bed holding Miles' clammy hand in my own, tears filling my eyes as I watched him taking deep, tortured breaths. His fingers tightened around mine as he struggled not to cry out, trying to keep back the coughs that wracked his frail and wasted body but it was useless as another coughing spasm raced through him. He clenched his teeth desperately trying to silence the scream that threatened to burst from him but I could hear the muffled sound come through and it struck me to the heart. I bit down on my own lip hard to keep myself from crying out with him though I could feel my hand shaking as Miles clutched it. He was dying... and he knew it.
Tears trickled down my cheeks as I felt him struggling against this disease that slowly ate away at him. He'd been fighting the cancer that was now in its final, terminal stages for six years. Six years of hope that he would finally be able to beat the disease that was sapping his strength and six years to try everything medically possible to eradicate the aggressive cancer that refused to entirely disappear.
He had accepted the final verdict with courage when, at last, the doctor told him that there was no hope, that the cancer would eventually kill him and that he had a year, at the most, to live. I managed to appear outwardly composed and, after the doctor had left, I broke down in tears. Ironically enough, it was Miles who comforted me when I should have been comforting him.
I couldn't bear it and refused to accept this final prognosis. I tried to push for more tests and tried to convince Miles to begin a new, aggressive round of chemotherapy but in the end I bowed, but not graciously, to his wishes to not seek any additional treatment. He wanted to die with dignity and, as he rightly pointed out, it wouldn't do him any good anyway; he was too far gone for that and he knew, and accepted, that he was now facing the final year of his life. Of the two of us, I was the one who was having trouble accepting that this was the end.
Like it or not, I had to accept that, too and, the sooner I did, the better it would be for all of us. I wanted the final year of Miles' life to be filled with love and not with sorrow for the tears would come soon enough after he died.
I threw myself into doing just that with a vengeance. We traveled through Europe, stopping by in Germany to see Franziska and Adrian for a brief visit before moving on to England, Ireland, Scotland and Wales. We traveled through France and Belgium, The Netherlands and Spain, Greece and Macedonia, Italy and Switzerland before wrapping it up in Austria and flying home.
Every stop was precious and we both enjoyed our European tour immensely, talking and laughing over a hundred little things as we continued our trek that made the trip quite a memorable one: standing in the Eiffel Tower in Paris at night and looking over the spectacularly lit city; the ruins of what was once a monastery in England as well as taking in the sights of the British Museum and attending a play at the Globe Theatre; taking a guided tour of Newark Castle in Scotland; going through Cardiff Castle in Wales and touring Kilkenny Castle in Kilkenny, Ireland.
We also took in flea markets and Burgess House in Antwerp on our trip to Belgium; took a very solemn tour of Anne Frank's house in Amsterdam; had a good time on our visit to the Picasso Museum in Barcelona and visited the ruins of both Byzantine and Early Christian fortifications in Toroni, Macedonia. We took a second tour of the Parthenon in Athens-we'd come here for our honeymoon trip after our commitment ceremony-and wrapped up our tour in Austria with a visit to a stalactite cave in Alland, doing some shopping in their fine marketplaces and enjoying some of the local cuisine.
It had been an amazing three months and both Miles and I really enjoyed ourselves traveling across Europe and I knew that I would never forget this precious time with him as long as I lived. I felt a twinge as I thought of it but I shook it away impatiently, not wanting to waste this precious time that I had left with Miles. After all, he was the one who was carrying the burden of a terminal illness and there was no need to add to it with my sorrow.
Nine months after our arrival back home, Miles had to go to the hospital since he had a nasty cough that he couldn't seem to shake and was having trouble breathing. My heart was in my throat as Marcus Fey, Maya's eldest son, came over right away when I called and rushed us both to the hospital. I held onto Miles' hand tightly all the way to the emergency room, praying that this wasn't the day I had been dreading.
I remember pacing up and down the waiting room area. Marcus did his level best to try and calm me but I refused to be comforted and continued my trek back and forth across the room until the doctor came out to tell us the news. I was relieved that it wasn't anything more than a chest cold that had settled in for the long haul; as the doctor himself commented, seeing as how Miles was ninety-seven years old, he had never seen a man that old being in as good a shape than he was and that we shouldn't worry. They simply wanted to keep him overnight for observation and saw no reason why Miles couldn't go home home first thing in the morning.
We took Miles home the next morning and I held his hand tightly in my own as we traveled across the city to where our home was located, silently giving thanks that Miles was spared once again. I knew that our time together couldn't last forever and that we were, and had been, on borrowed time but I continued to hope against hope until the very end that Miles would somehow rally and beat, once and for all, the cancer that was steadily sapping his life.
In the end, Miles beat the odds predicted by the doctor; he lived nearly two years after his final prognosis and they were the most memorable and precious of our sixty-five years together and ones that were crammed full of family, friends and colleagues coming by to pay their respects and frequent visits from our grandchildren and great-grandchildren.
I was especially glad that Claire, Miles' Shadow, as I called her, was the one most often by his side. She was a very pretty child with curly chestnut brown hair, beautiful green eyes, an impish grin, a wonderful sense of humor coupled with a grave and quiet demeanor and a depth and maturity that I had rarely ever seen in a child of seven.
It shouldn't have been all that surprising since she was Maya's great-granddaughter and, like the rest in that line, a spirit medium like her great-grandmother, her grandmother, her mother and countless others before her down through the ages.
I would see both Claire and Miles often as they sat together on the couch in the living room, their heads huddled close together as they talked about this and that, sharing private jokes and laughing over the silly stories of Grandpa Nick's misadventures in Europe that, to my chagrin, Miles was only too happy to share with her.
She was so like him that it was sometimes unnerving to see them together but she was the one great-grandchild who spent every summer with Miles and I at our home and the three of us became very close over time. Although she could be stubborn, unbending, mischievous and somewhat sulky at times when she didn't get her own way-much to the chagrin of her loving parents-she was one of the most even-tempered, giving and loving children that I knew. For all her faults, she was a very good child.
She was a perennial favorite of both Maya's and Pearls' extended families as well and they adored her and Claire returned their love fourfold although she never seemed phased or overly affected by it. She was a joy to have around and both Miles and I enjoyed her company, both of us always eagerly looking forward to her annual summer visit.
They spent many hours together in the final weeks of Miles' life, talking of many things: Claire's new puppy, how she was doing in school now that she was in the second grade, cases that Miles and I had worked on together and of the trip that we had taken with Claire and her sisters to the zoo.
As I listened to them talking, I was happy that she was bringing him such comfort at a time when he really needed it. It comforted me as well and it helped me to prepare, as much as possible, for the inevitable which came two months later in Marguerite d'Youville Hospital on October 24th at seven-fifteen that evening. I was by his side when he drew his last breath, holding his hand tightly in my own and I didn't let it go for some time after he'd passed on. I leaned over to press kisses against his mouth, choking back tears as I whispered how much I loved him and that I hoped it wouldn't be too much longer before I joined him.
I wept for what seemed like hours on his shoulder, burying my face in his neck, stroking his cold skin tenderly for some time before they came back to take him away. I watched them in silence as they transferred his body to a gurney, tears flowing down my cheeks like rain, trying to hold back the sobs that threatened to burst from me as they wheeled him out. I managed to keep my composure until after they had left, sinking down in one of the chairs that had been beside the bed and wept until I had no more tears left to shed. I felt so empty inside and more alone than I ever had in my life.
As I sat there, numb and heartbroken, my thoughts whirling chaotically over another, it was at that precise moment that I realized he really was gone... and I was all alone.
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Three years later...
December 25, 2092
10:45 P.M.
I sat at the window, lost in my own thoughts as I looked out into the moonless Christmas night and at the softly falling snow that drifted to the ground. The candle burned brightly on the window sill and my elbow rested in the space beside it as it cast its soft light around the room, casting dancing shadows across the far wall.
My face was cupped in my hand, my mahogany cane leaning against the inside of my right leg, memories flowing over me as I stared out into the night. My eyes drifted briefly over to where the photograph of Miles and I stood on the night table by the bed in a teak wood frame before slowly going back to the window and the snowy night beyond the pane of glass, my heart aching as I thought of him.
Taken in happier times at the 56th anniversary of our commitment ceremony party, we stood in the elegantly decorated banquet room underneath an arch decorated with white roses, dressed to the nines in black tuxedos with bright smiles on both of our weathered faces. My eyes misted as I drew my fingertips slowly and reverently across the glass, remembering the wonderful surprise we'd both had when we were escorted to the banquet hall of one of the finest hotels in L.A. and seeing quite a crowd had gathered there in order to help us celebrate, including close family, friends and colleagues. It made our special day even more memorable and we really enjoyed the dinner and dance that followed.
We may have had more wrinkles and pure white hair but it didn't matter since Miles was still as handsome as the day I met him all those years ago and age and time hadn't diminished this fact one bit. If anything, he grew more handsome as the years passed and not a day didn't go by when I wasn't grateful to have had him for as long as I did.
It had been three years since Miles had died and I missed him terribly this evening. It was the snow falling that brought that fact into stark focus once again and I felt the familiar pain in my breast as I thought of it. We had always loved the snow and Christmas but, now that I was alone, it just brought back all the memories of the past.
I rubbed my eyes gently, feeling more tired and worn than usual tonight. I wondered when my time would come, how much longer I would walk through this world alone without the love and support of the man I had loved, and continued to love, so much.
We'd been together for sixty-five years; now that he was gone, it felt like a part of me also died with him. I felt incomplete and lost without Miles by my side and, truth be told, I couldn't bear the thought of another holiday without my beloved to share it with me since it just wasn't the same without him.
I'd borne the holidays as best I could for the past three years and I had no desire to pass a fourth; my feelings of loss were sharpened for some reason this year and all I wanted was to join him. I'd had enough of life without him and I longed to be with him again.
This, I fervently hoped, would be my last Christmas without Miles.
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The radio was playing softly when I was aware of the world again and I was surprised to find myself bent over, my arms crossed on the windowsill with my head lying on top of them. I sat up slowly and painfully, my back protesting as I did so and, when I lifted my hand to my face to push back some hair that had fallen into my eyes, I was surprised to feel that my cheeks were wet.
I sat there for some time in silence, my mind whirling. I'd had no idea when I had dropped off and this disturbed me, particularly when I discovered that I had no conscious memory of doing so. Ishook my head as I looked out of the window into the pitch-black night, every now and then a stray white flake falling into view before disappearing into the darkness. Let's face it, Phoenix... you're old and this just confirms it.
I sighed again as I turned to look at the radio sitting on the coffee table. It was old-Miles and I had bought it thirty-five years earlier-and I was amazed to find that it still worked. Soft music was playing and I leaned back in my chair and closed my eyes, letting it wash over me like a soothing balm, my thoughts drifting back to times long past.
I remembered our first Christmas together: the music, laughter, the scent of lemon, orange, cloves and cinnamon wafting through the kitchen where Miles was busily preparing Christmas sugar cookies and wassail, humming softly to Christmas carols playing over the radio that was plugged into the wall beside the stove. I could almost smell the cookies baking in the oven and Miles admonishing me that I could have only one so as not to spoil my dinner and then the sour, petulant look he had when I took a handful that only disappeared when I gave him a quick buss on the mouth and that cheeky, lopsided grin he was always so fond of.
I swallowed hard, the growing lump in my throat threatening to choke me and I tried to focus my thoughts in a much more pleasant direction but I found it increasingly difficult to do when I felt so lost and alone without him.
I shifted uncomfortably in my chair, my eyes still staring out into the snowy darkness. I'd thought of him daily for the past three years; not a day went by when I didn't think of him and I found myself living more and more in the past, recalling all the good times we'd had together in our sixty-five years when the pain of losing him became too much for me to bear.
The days seemed to blend together into one continuous lump and I was having trouble remembering what day it was since they all seemed the same to me. Maya and Pearls were worried and tried to convince me to talk to someone but I would simply shake my head and tell them that I preferred to be alone with the ghosts of the past than in the world of the present. They plainly didn't like that but I was past caring; it was nothing more than the plain truth and it wasn't something designed to hurt them in any way although they did manage to wrangle out of me a promise that I would at least let them visit at least three times a week during the holidays to which I grudgingly agreed.
They left sometime later, satisfied that they had at least my promise to visit more often and I couldn't really begrudge them that, once I'd stopped seething and sat down to think about it. I'd become more of a hermit in the past three years and no longer went out or visited as much as I used to; I just didn't have the heart for it anymore.
I preferred to spend my days alone, casting longing glances at the photograph of Miles and myself on the night table beside the bed, hoping that each Christmas that passed would be the last and that we would be reunited soon. I'd lost all interest in life... and living.
It was, with a mix of relief and disappointment, that three years had passed and I was still here: a relief because it was nice to see another sunrise and sunset and a disappointment because I wouldn't be reunited with Miles that year. As time went on, it became increasingly clear to me that I hoped that each Christmas that came and went would be the last and, when it turned out it wasn't, I couldn't help but feel let down; I no longer wanted to reside in this world but with Miles in the next.
I took a deep breath and exhaled, leaning forward on my cane and rested my head on top of my crossed hands, closing my eyes. I let my mind drift as the music changed, dimly hearing the DJ announcing the next song, Right Here Waiting by someone named Richard Marx.
I blinked, frowning as I lifted my head, tilting it a little to the right, my eyes narrowed in concentration.
That sounds very familiar...
I knew that I had heard the name somewhere before and I searched my memories until I remembered one day fifty years ago when, on a whim-this station wasn't one we normally listened to-Miles and I had been listening to the radio station that played hits from the '80's and 90's.
Both Miles and myself had been hooked from the opening synthesizer rift and listened to it often many times in the years since; it had a hauntingly beautiful melody that had captured our attention and it quickly became a great favourite of ours.
Now, as I sat in that lonely chair by the window, tears fell down my face like rain as the music washed over me like a healing balm.
Oceans apart, day after day
And I slowly go insane
I hear your voice on the line
But it doesn't stop the pain
If I see you next to never
How can we say forever?
I was lonely: lonely for Miles' comforting presence, lonely for the joys of our life together and lonely for his warm presence next to me. The pain of losing him had nearly killed me; I often wished that it had so that I would have been spared this constant agony, having to deal with the ache inside me that never went away no matter how much time passed, that hollow feeling inside that was my constant companion.
Wherever you go
Whatever you do
I will be right here waiting for you
Whatever it takes
Or how my heart breaks
I will be right here waiting for you
I miss you so much, Miles! I thought as I wept, the lump in my throat becoming so large that it nearly choked me, my hands reaching up to cover my face and leaning forward until my elbows touched my knees, my shoulders shaking. I'm trying to be brave but I just can't go on without you! It's too much for me to bear alone! I just can't do it anymore! My fingers tightened against my skin. I'm tired, I'm lonely and the pain of losing you becomes more and more difficult to bear with each passing day!
I took for granted, all the times
That I thought would last somehow
Memories of our years together flooded my mind: our first date, our commitment ceremony, our first years as a legally bound couple; our honeymoon trip to Athens where we toured the Parthenon and spent wonderful, lazy days in the sun; Maya's and Pearls' weddings where we both proudly gave them away and the birth of Maya's first child a year and a half after her marriage with Pearls' first following the year after that.
My heart felt lighter than it had in some time as I sniffled, reaching into my pocket and pulling out a handkerchief. I dried my tears, smiling softly as I remembered their children's weddings; the births of grandchildren and great-grandchildren and the emotion that Miles and I both felt at being designated "Grandpa Nick & Grandpa Miles" although Miles did have to get used to that title a little; holidays spent together with Maya and Pearls' families and at our home...
Each one burst forth like the birth of a new sun into my tortured mind, light flowing through me and chasing away all the dark memories that threatened to entrench me in a miasma of despair, feeling somewhat at peace with myself for the first time in a very long time.
I hear the laughter, I taste the tears
But I can't get near you now
I knew that there would come a day when either Miles or I would pass on but I was content to push that thought to the furthest reaches of my mind at that time. I enjoyed the all too quickly passing years with him but the realization that I was soon to lose him crushed me more thoroughly than anything ever could.
He'd tried to prepare me, God knows he did, for the inevitable but I couldn't accept it, even at the end. I hadn't wanted to face that possibility, just as I didn't want to face the finality of Miles' prognosis, and was content to lock it away in the deepest recesses of my mind. Now that he was gone, all the pain, despair and heartache that I hadn't wanted to face all those decades ago now came in with a vengeance and I could feel my happy mood slowly beginning to slip away.
I'd visited his grave yesterday and I stood there for what seemed like hours, remembering all the times, good and bad, that we had had together. I'd had him buried beside his father and there was another plot beside Miles' that was waiting for me when my time came. I only hoped that it would be sooner rather than later.
It was a bitterly cold day with a chilling wind blowing but I didn't care as I lost myself in the past, my eyes misting as I recalled our many decades together: the cases we'd solved; all the things we had survived, including the attacks of two insane men, one of them being an old adversary from Miles' past; the love we had for each other that only grew stronger as we grew older; our first real home that we'd purchased for ourselves and spent a few weekends fixing up; moving day when we moved everything we had into our new home, among others.
Each memory brought a tired smile to my face that the weather could do nothing to diminish as I stood there, my hat clutched in trembling, gnarled fingers. The wind whipped my trench-coat in a frenzy about my legs and the chilling cold began to seep slowly into my bones but I wasn't aware of it at the time, so lost was I in the memories of yesterday. After some time, I finally leaned over and planted a kiss on the top of the granite headstone before I turned to leave, shuffling wearily back to Marcus Blackstone's car that was waiting for me at the cemetery gates.
Marcus looked concerned as he got out of the car and opened the passenger's side door for me but I merely waved my hand as I made my way over to the other side, thanking him but politely refusing his offer of help as I slowly got into the car, wincing slightly as the ache in my legs became more pronounced. I sighed with relief once I had settled in and buckled my seat belt before reaching over and closing the door.
Marcus got in on the driver's side and began to talk about his day but I barely heard him as I stared out into the cemetery, my thoughts with the sleeping dead that lay buried there. At some point, he realized that I wasn't responding and the conversation dwindled to a trickle before stopping all together as he pulled out of the cemetery and on to the main highway, my eyes never once leaving the cemetery gates until they were lost to sight.
Oh, can't you see it baby
You've got me going crazy
"Miles..." I murmured softly.
Wherever you are
Whatever you do
I'll be right here waiting for you
Whatever it takes
Or how my heart breaks
I'll be right here waiting for you
I sat up straight and reached out to the photograph of Miles and myself that was sitting on top of the night table, my eyes misting as I wrapped my fingers around it, lifted it and brought it over to me, staring down into the happy faces that looked back out at me from across the years.
I still remembered the day well when this picture was taken and I closed my eyes, a soft moan emerging from my throat and tears trickling down my cheeks.
I wonder how we can survive this romance
But if in the end I'm with you
I'll take the chance
I pressed the photograph to my chest with trembling hands, biting down on my lip to silence the cry that threatened to burst from me and struggling to keep some kind of control over my emotions but it was becoming increasingly difficult to do.
I was so immersed in my own misery that I didn't notice the photograph beginning to glow with a soft, white light that steadily grew brighter as the minutes ticked by; when I finally did notice some moments later, it was burning with the intensity of a newborn star, my eyes opening wide in stunned amazement and speechless wonder.
After a few moments of silence, I regained my composure and gently put it away from me, looking at the photograph as it shone brilliantly, my lips moving but with no sound emerging. I couldn't believe what I was seeing but, no matter how many times I closed my eyes or for how long, when I opened them the light was there, burning more brightly than it had before.
"Miles..." I murmured softly, his name on my lips before I could stop myself. A soft, white mist had begun to congregate by the door and, when I looked over in that direction for some reason that I couldn't fathom, I was surprised to see it there, a small cloud twisting and writhing.
As I sat there in stunned silence for the second time that evening, the cloud slowly began to move toward where I was sitting, clutching the frame to my chest. I watched as it made its way over to me, dancing and twisting and I noted, with equal parts of amazement and fascination, that the closer the cloud came, it slowly began to take on a slight human shape...
Wherever you go
Whatever you do
"Miles?" I could feel hope rising in me as the shape twisted and writhed, turning in on itself over and over, pulsing with a radiance and life all its own until I could begin to make out a more distinct human form. "Is... is that... you?"
Stony silence was the only answer to my entreaty and I felt foolish for even asking the question in the first place although I saw, with amazement, that the cloud was still present. It continued to twist and dance, becoming much more recognizably human as the minutes continued to pass. After what felt like an eternity, a form stood in front of me, glowing with white-hot intensity like a pillar of light bursting forth from the darkness. I gasped in surprise and dropped the framed photograph and it bounced twice with a clatter before it came to rest on the floor beside the chair.
"Miles...?" Shaking with emotion, I began to slowly rise from my seat, my eyes as wide as saucers at what I saw taking shape in front of me, my heart skipping a beat when I saw that it was, unquestionably, Miles Edgeworth.
I'll be right here waiting for you
Whatever it takes
Miles stood there, glowing like a young sun, his smile dazzlingly brilliant as he looked tenderly at me. This was the Miles that I remembered before the disease so cruelly took him from me. With a cry of pure joy, I reached out to him, feeling his hand take mine in his own, bringing it to his lips and planting a soft kiss on the back of my hand.
"Miles... Oh, Miles!" I burst out as he pulled me to him, wrapping his strong arms around me and holding me tightly against him. Miles pressed gentle kisses on my mouth and cheeks as his hand crept up my back, his fingertips ghosting over the back of my neck as he tangled his fingers in my snow-white hair, pulling my mouth even closer to his, muffled moans echoing in the silent room.
After we had parted, his loving grey eyes looked deeply into mine, his hand cupping the side of my face before I leaned in, pressing my head against his shoulder, feeling his fingers gently sliding down my face.
:Phoenix...: he breathed, his voice soft yet surprisingly strong and hollow in the stillness. He was still glowing with a white-hot light although it didn't seem as brilliant as he had when he first appeared but I was grateful nonetheless as we stood there, holding each other close.
"Miles..." I replied softly, my voice hitching with the overwhelming emotion I felt, feeling his hand gently stroking my hair.
:I've missed you, Phoenix.: He chuckled as he stepped back a bit, leaning in and rubbing the tip of my nose gently with his own. It may have been because of the light that surrounded him but Miles beamed, his face soft and supple as it was in the years before his body was ravaged with the terrible marks of cancer.
"I missed you, too, Miles," I replied quietly, tightening my hold on him. "Never a day has gone by in the past three years that I haven't thought of you and prayed I would see you again..."
:I know.: He kissed the top of my head. :I've been waiting for this moment for a very long time.:
I lifted my head to look at him, tears shining on my cheeks, my lips trembling. I couldn't believe my ears and I tightened my hold on him.
"Are... are you-" I could barely get the words out. "Are you...going to... leave... me...?"
He nodded solemnly and I could feel my heart breaking within me.
No! You can't leave me again! I... I won't permit it! I struggled against the overwhelming despair I could feel starting to crush me in its iron grip. You.. you can't...! Exactly who was it that I was railing against in my mind?
Or how my heart breaks
:Yes-: he silenced my cry of horror by pressing his index finger gently against my lips-:but this time, you're coming with me...:
I opened my mouth to say something but I snapped it shut as the full import of what he had just said at last registered in my brain. My heart leaped with excitement as I realized that, while he was going to leave, he had come to take me with him and his dazzling smile confirmed my wildest hopes.
What? You... you've...
Joy rose in me as the meaning of his words sunk in. At last, at long, long last what I had wished for and dreamed of for three years was finally going to come true. Miles had come to take me home... and I was more than ready, and willing, to go.
I'll be right here waiting for you
He looked tenderly at me. :Let's go home, Phoenix...:
Yes, Miles, I thought with happiness as the light around him pulsed with life and began to slowly encompass us both, the music beginning to wind down to its end, let's go home....
Waiting for you...
He smiled at me and I at him as we looked toward the tunnel that had opened up in front of us, linking fingers and walking together into the light...
The photograph, mute witness to all that had taken place, lay on the floor beside the chair. The faces in the photograph glowed with a bright light for some time before it gradually began to dim and, a few moments later, it vanished, plunging the room once again into darkness...
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From the obituary page of The L.A. Sun
December 27th, 2092
Ace Attorney Phoenix Wright Dead at the Age of 100
Phoenix Wright, of the Wright & Co. Law Office and attorney of the L.A. Area for over sixty years, passed away at his home at approximately 11 P.M. Dec. 25th at the age of 100 years. He was living alone in his home at the time of his death from natural causes and was found by his grandson, Marcus Blackworth, and his four children the morning of Dec. 26th when they came for their weekly visit.
He leaves to mourn his long time assistant, Maya Fey Blackworth; Maya's cousin and Mr. Wright's longtime friend, Pearl Fey Stone; grandchildren Marcus [Georgianna] Blackworth, Alison [Greg] Hart, Martha [Jason] Beeson, Mark [Lori] Blackworth, Martin [Jessie] Blackworth, Neil [Helen] Blackworth, Bethany Stone Preston, Lana [Bob] Masterson, Charles [Katherine] Stone, Henry Stone, Mathilde Stone and Philippa [David] White and their extended families.
Mr. Wright was predeceased by his parents, Leonard and Rosalie Wright in 2015, maternal grandparents Mark and Louise Worth in 2017, paternal grandparents Mason and Shirley Wright in 2019, Maya's husband, Gregory Blackworth, in 2070, Pearl's husband, Michael Stone, in 2072, beloved husband and companion, Miles Edgeworth in 2089 and Mr. Edgeworth's father, Gregory Edgeworth, in 2001.
Mr. Wright's funeral will be held at Collins Funeral Home, 54th street West, Los Angeles on December 30 at 2 P.M. Burial is to follow at Meadow Gardens Cemetery, five miles outside of Los Angeles on Highway 51, at 4 P.M. Friends, family and colleagues, please accept this as your invitation to attend.
In lieu of flowers, the families of Mr. Wright request donations to either The American Cancer Society, The American Heart Society, The American Red Cross, St. Jude's Hospital, Marguerite d'Youville Hospital Trauma Center, Starlight Children's Foundation, The Humane Society or the National Trust For Historic Preservation in the United States in his memory.
The families also appreciate the respect in regards to their privacy during this difficult time and express their sincere thanks to all those who have sent donations, flowers, messages of sympathy, online messages on various websites and notes. They are grateful to one and all.
"A great man has passed; we shall not see his like again..."