"Miles?" Phoenix Wright stood outsides his roommate's door. "Miles, are you in there?" he received no response. Sighing, Phoenix called, "Miles, I'm coming in now, so if you're doing something you don't want me to see, stop it, okay?" still nothing, but Phoenix was tired of waiting, so he pushed the door open anyway.
The sight that met his eyes stopped him in his tracks. Miles' room was neat; it always was, with everything in its proper place. But that wasn't what took Phoenix's breath away. Miles was lying across the floor; his eyes closed…and blood flowing freely from a long cut across his forearm.
"MILES!" Phoenix shouted, panicking. He ran to his friend, grabbing him in his arms. For a second, Phoenix thought that he was dead, but then Mile's eyelids fluttered and he opened his eyes, staring up at Phoenix, confused and in pain. Frightened…
"Ph- Phoenix?" Miles asked, his voice weak.
"Miles." Phoenix breathed, "What? Why?" he asked, not able to form a proper sentence through his shock. But this made sense. Know he knew why Miles always wore shirts with long sleeves, even in summer. Looking closer, Phoenix could see other marks on Mile's arms, pale scars, picked out against barely darker skin.
"Phoenix," Miles repeated, his voice still soft, "I didn't want…you to know…I'm sorry…" He closed his eyes.
"Miles, its ok." Phoenix murmured, "I..I've known for a while now." He brushed a few strands of hair out of Miles' eyes, then examined the cut. It was deep, but obviously hadn't severed anything vital, or Miles would have been dead by now. Just thinking this sent a chill though Phoenix. He couldn't imagine a world without his snarky, but still adorable best friend. But now he had to concentrate. Panicking wasn't going to help Miles. He needed to keep a clear head and to think about things rationally.
He got up and fetched a clean wash-cloth from the linen cupboard. He returned and pressed it to Mile's arm, stemming the flow of blood. With that done, he quickly went through the 1st Aid box and gathered a bandage and a few other things. He returned and laid his supplies down in the bathroom, before coming back to Miles' side. Miles looked like he was barely not fainting, but Phoenix helped him into the bathroom and sat him down on the edge of the tub.
Phoenix began cleaning out the wound, using a saline solution. Next he covered the wound with a dressing and wrapped the whole lot in a bandage. Through it all, Miles was silent, although he didn't seem so weak. When Phoenix was done, Miles just looked back at him, then struggled to get up. Phoenix slid an arm around Miles' waist and helped him up, leading him back into his room. He helped Miles into bed, the turned off the light and sat down in the chair in the corner.
"You're an idiot, you know that." Phoenix muttered under his breath. He had thought that Miles was already sleeping, hadn't known he'd heard, but a low, humourless chuckle emanated from the bed next to him.
"You would say that." Miles said darkly, "but then again, you don't understand. You'll never understand."
END