Title: Channeling Absolution
Author: Midgetnazgul
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: No, the Ace Attorney series isn't mine, contrary to popular belief. So don't sue me.
Summary: Edgeworth is left shaken by the events of the trial for Misty Fey's murder. What will he do, knowing now that the Kurain Channeling Technique that he despised and rejected for so long is indeed real?
A/N: There are far too many people to thank here properly in just a paragraph. Most of all I need to thank those in charge of the Phoenix Wright Big Bang on LJ for providing me the impetus to actually finish this story. Beyond that, my betas meraniimassacre and shychloe, my artists sleepyartist and takumee, and my mixer apephobia from the Big Bang all deserve the greatest accolades for bringing this story to life in other media! They all worked fantastically. ^_^ Also, to betas and friends in the past who have provided me their input and help over the two years it took to write this, thank you so much. :D
All fanfiction are labors of love, but this one in particular was difficult to bring myself to finish. This story was forged and has evolved over time from my own experiences during what was arguably three of the worst years of my life. It has provided something of a sounding board whenever I was particularly upset, and as such I will miss it. I mention that not to be melodramatic, but merely to underline the soul I strove to integrate into the narrative. I hope that it manifests in the same way for you. Thank you for reading, especially if you've come back after reading the original first two chapters here.
There will be eight chapters in total, and the last three are near-finished.
Miles Edgeworth had never been one to believe in the supernatural and fantastic. In his mind, that which could not be proven with direct evidence didn't even warrant his attention. This was especially true of ghosts, spirits, and whatnot. Since most of his livelihood revolved around the factual and tangible, he had always been surprised and mildly disturbed by the ease with which Wright accepted such ideas.
That is, until this case.
He had become intimately acquainted with the logistics and secrets of the Fey clan's method of succession throughout the proceedings of Iris' trial, but he had regarded it as little more than petty internal family feuding for ceremonial importance. So, of course, it had come as quite a shock to him, in more than one way, to learn that the Kurain Channeling Technique was not only real, but had been a large part of the threat to Maya's life while she had been missing.
Even after watching the quasi-exorcism of Dahlia Hawthorne's spirit mid-trial, he not only still found it difficult to believe what he had seen, but violently so. Some part inside of him rebelled against it, almost as if it would cause him physical pain to admit to the Fey clan's supernatural ability. The feeling disturbed him so much that it had persisted long after court had been dismissed and into the dinner that was part of the post-trial celebration.
He had deigned to drive his whip-happy sister and barely-competent subordinate to the restaurant Larry had previously mentioned. Luckily, the excuse of needing concentration to drive relieved him of the burden of having to listen to the abusive ramblings of Franziska and Gumshoe's meek responses. Instead, he puzzled over and attempted to reign in his suddenly tempestuous feelings.
The car flew down the road, passing a small Asian-themed restaurant as they went. A pair of large stone lanterns stood near the entrance, reminding him of another, fateful lantern of similar stature. With sudden blazing clarity, he was mentally pulled back to the conversation he had shared with Wright the previous afternoon regarding Dahlia Hawthorne. He recalled that back then, he had also taken a rather vehement stance against Phoenix's claim that it wasn't only possible for Dahlia to have been involved in a murder posthumously, but she may have been an instigator of it. Recalling the memory made him realize he had felt a similar emotion to the one he was experiencing now, and he guessed that was what had led to such an extreme outburst against his friend.
But, what reason could there be for it? He was not one to rise to anger openly. Wright, however, seemed to understand what he did not. After Edgeworth's insistence of disbelief, Wright had not been angry, nor did he even attempt further to persuade the prosecutor. He had simply stared at Edgeworth with a sad, perhaps pained, but sympathetic eye as if he had expected this response and knew the source of it.
Where have I seen that look before? Edgeworth pondered as he parked the car and entered the gaudy establishment.
Then, somewhere between the car and the table, realization hit.
It had happened more than two years ago, when DL-6 had been dragged into the limelight once more, and the wounds left by his painful past had been laid bare for all to rub salt into. That was where he had seen that particular look before. Once Phoenix had come to understand all that had happened to Miles leading up to his sudden disappearance from school, he would sometimes fix the prosecutor with that look when they discussed it during the trial. It had always made Miles feel uncomfortable, yet at the same time, he had been drawn to the obvious sympathy and worry characterized in the arc of his admittedly strange eyebrows and unspoken emotion of his body language. The times he had been closest to breaking during that painful period had been the points after these conversations, when Phoenix had finally broken gaze with him to go back to business. The distant and awkward comfort given by the man had been torn away so suddenly, and the weight of reality had rushed back in with such cold ruthlessness that he wondered how he had handled all of it for so long.
So that was it. DL-6. He sighed inwardly. How long would this continue to hound him? Up until now, he had believed that he had finally managed to set all that behind him and move on.
After the initial shock, denial and fear of the truth to DL-6, the knowledge he had gained from his own trial for murder had assisted him in putting the past, even his time with von Karma, behind him. His nightmares had stopped, but apparently some deeply hidden subconscious roots remained.
It shouldn't have surprised him, really. Initially, he had not been angry with what had happened in the wake of DL-6. He simply hadn't been old enough to understand anything beyond the horrifying fact that his father was gone, and the judicial system that same man had so cherished had failed to bring him posthumous justice.
He hadn't come to fully understand the significance of the spirit medium, Misty Fey, who had called forth his father's soul, until his teenage years. He had been well into his legal education, and it had further appalled him in both a legal and personal perspective. Yes, Hammond had indeed gotten Yogi off for the murder most people had believed he had done, but to think the police and the prosecutor's office would rely on such shoddy, transparently thin evidence? They had brought that verdict upon themselves!
Edgeworth had solemnly sworn to himself to never use such methods, no matter how desperate his case may be. He had never truly hated Misty Fey or the Fey clan itself, merely the idea and superstition that was their trade. It had been just another one of the many things that had failed him in the wake of DL-6.
"….iles….dge…" He was abruptly pulled from his thoughts.
"Miles Edgeworth! Are you intent on eating in such a foolish position? Honestly, little brother, you are quite the fool when you wish to be."
Franziska? Right, but….what was he doing?
Looking down, he realized that Franziska was sitting at one of the tables inside the restaurant, across from Gumshoe, farther away from her than in the car but still within whipping range should the need present itself. Somehow, Edgeworth remained standing. One of his hands rested on the back of a half pulled-out chair, forgotten, most likely, because of his earlier realization. How long had he been standing there? He had no recollection of ever entering the restaurant. Not one to show how flustered he was by his faux pas, he silently finished pulling out the chair next to Franziska and seated himself in one cool, fluid motion. Apparently, that was not enough to stop their confusion and curiosity.
"Are you alright, sir?" Gumshoe asked abruptly.
"Indeed, little brother, your behavior is…less than characteristic," Franziska added, though her accent had added a sharp tone that made Edgeworth wince inwardly as if he were being scolded. Suddenly, her eyebrows rose at the thought of what he could only guess was some sort of imaginative explanation for his odd actions. "Certainly you aren't still foolishly brooding on the fiasco with the defendant yesterday?"
I certainly feel more stupid now, Franziska. Thanks.
Like he hadn't been brooding enough already, and then she had to add that back onto everything. With a massive mental shove, though, he pushed all that to the back of his mind so it wouldn't show on his face.
"Of course not. And I'm fine, today has simply given me a lot of information to absorb," Edgeworth stated with an impatient roll of the eyes for effect. The subject needed to be changed, and quickly. "However, that's not the reason why we're here tonight. Hopefully, Wright will be back before long, and with good news."
It worked. Franziska turned her gaze down to the table, and Gumshoe appeared to absorb himself in whatever level of deep thought he was capable of. Probably worry for Pearl. The stocky officer knew a lot more about her than Edgeworth himself did and, curiously enough, seemed to care about her nearly as much as Phoenix and Maya did. Glad for the respite from his companions' potentially embarrassing questions, he resumed his thoughts.
Obviously, this wasn't going to just go away over time, but he simply didn't want to wait for that. He wanted, perhaps even needed, to be proactive about it. What was he supposed to do, then? It wasn't as if he could simply amputate these feelings from himself like a diseased limb. He replayed the end of the trial over again in his mind, but nothing presented itself. The moment of Dahlia's departure from this plane had simply come and gone too quickly for him to comprehend in such a state of surprise. If only he could see it again in a more personal setting…
That was it! See it again. Well, not Dahlia Hawthorne, obviously, but a spirit channeling in general.
His thoughts were once again interrupted, this time by the arrival of Wright with both Maya and, thankfully, Pearl in tow. They sat down at the table, and the mood instantly lifted. Everyone, even a reticent Franziska, began chatting amiably enough with each other. Edgeworth, satisfied that he had come to a reasonable conclusion, felt much more at ease and allowed himself to take part in the celebration. Despite the crappy food that Très Bien had pretty much become famous for (a fact which earned Gumshoe a nasty whipping later on), dinner passed without incident, and everyone enjoyed the company immensely after such a harrowing week. Before long, bills were paid, thanks were exchanged, and preparations were made to leave. Phoenix, in particular, looked anxious to leave, no doubt out of concern for Maya. The sidelong worried glances he kept making at her were obvious all throughout dinner. Edgeworth couldn't help but smile inwardly at his colleague's constant empathy for others.
The smile was quickly broken, though, by apprehension. He wanted to approach Maya about his request as soon as possible, but was now truly all that prudent? Regardless of what one believed had caused it, she was very obviously drawn from the past few days' experiences. However, there was no knowing how long she would remain in town and, though it was difficult to admit, he would only become more and more reluctant if he let it wait. His appendages seemed to make the decision for him, for he suddenly found himself directly behind her previously retreating back and with a hand on her shoulder. Maya turned in surprise. Wright, sensing the lack of her presence behind him, also turned.
"Miss Fey, er…"
Wonderful, Miles. Absolutely wonderful.
"Mr. Edgeworth! What is it?"
"If…if I might have a word, for just a moment? I have…a request."
There it was again, that look. He could feel it boring into him somewhere between his right ear and eye. Wright's "all-knowing" gaze. It took a lot not to look over at him. He didn't have time to play that mental game with himself right now.
Surprisingly, Maya was not put off. That, or she just hid it well.
"Uh, sure. I don't mind."
She glanced back at Phoenix, who nodded after a moment. Together, prosecutor and spirit medium stepped a few paces closer to the door of the restaurant they just had left for a little more privacy. Nowhere in his memory could he recall speaking with Maya personally like this. Being faced with that fact only made him more uneasy.
"I apologize for delaying your arrival home, Miss Fey, but I didn't know if I'd have another opportunity to ask…" Edgeworth drifted off as he felt the previous tense emotion bordering on physical pain rear its head again.
"No, it's okay, really. Nick's just being a worry-wart. And you can call me 'Maya', you know," she replied easily. "So what do you need, especially from me?"
"I wish to…see you channel a spirit, personally. For a long time, I have…held something of a grudge toward you and your family's ability, and after today, I…well, I just think it will help me continue to put my past behind me. Please understand, I don't mean to be unkind-" he added hurriedly, afraid he would upset her with his last careless statement. The prickly-haired defense attorney would be furious with him.
While she didn't appear to be mad at him, her reaction did at first confuse him. Something of a shadow passed very briefly over her face, leaving Edgeworth wondering if he had even seen it at all. Whatever had happened, it was immediately replaced with her usual chipper demeanor. Had he indeed said too much regarding his feelings about the Fey family?
"Oh, I get you!" she said finally. "Don't worry, I understand what you mean. I'd love to, but I really just can't do it tonight…"
Miles relaxed. I see. She is simply exhausted.
"Heavens, no! I never…this need not be done immediately, but whenever you have recovered. Like I said earlier, I only bring it up now because I didn't know when else I would be able to approach you."
"Right, okay! Well then…hmm. How about a week from today? That'll give me plenty of time to feel better and get what I need to perform the ceremony."
Ceremony…? He wondered, but pushed it aside.
"Alright then, that's fine. Do I…need to do, or…bring something?" he suggested brokenly. What did he know, after all?
Maya grinned, clearly amused. "Nope, that's all my and Pearly's job. But, I do have to ask, who do you want me to channel?"
That caught him off-guard. He had been so focused on getting to talk to Maya about the subject at all that he hadn't thought that far. An unbidden image flashed across his mind, and he suddenly knew exactly whom he should channel. He was only acquainted with one deceased person, after all. But, did he have it in him to do that? The very thought shook him to the core.
Well, this did start as an attempt to put the past behind. There isn't a much more effective way to do that.
The logic was irritatingly sound. What sort of "changed man" would he be if he didn't follow through completely?
"W-well, I…" he started, but couldn't finish for some inexplicable reason.
"Who am I kidding? It's your dad, isn't it?" Maya asked kindly. She had beaten him to the punch, and he wasn't exactly ungrateful for it, either.
"I s-suppose….yes, that is the most likely candidate." He grimaced at his reluctance.
Maya smiled gently at Edgeworth. While she was often exceedingly loud and scatterbrained, but there was no doubting her sincere care for her friends. But was he truly a friend in Maya's mind? Their "relationship" had not started under the greatest of circumstances. After their first meeting in court, they had settled into a separate existence, with Phoenix being the only real connection between them. At least, that was how Edgeworth had seen it. Apparently, Maya didn't feel the same way, judging from the ease with which she extended the figurative hand of friendship to him.
"Okay, sounds good. I guess…I'll have Nick call you the night before so I can give you an idea of when to show up. Does that work for you?" she asked.
"Yes, of course. I…look forward to it," he added lamely. He really didn't know what else to say.
Maya smiled wider, saying: "If you have any questions or are worried about anything, don't be afraid to get a hold of me anytime this week, okay? I can't imagine having to get in contact with a parent…like this…" she faltered at the end of the sentence. The shadow he had thought he had imagined earlier returned, this time clearer than ever.
It took Edgeworth a few puzzled moments, but he soon realized that he and Maya now shared a common thread in having a murdered parent. The memory of her sullen rejection of the Fey family after she had regained consciousness in the courtroom hit him like an errant two-by-four to the face. His outright selfishness and disregard appalled him, and it was all he could do not to completely destroy any attempt at a coherent sentence. All of his usual poised composure left him.
"Oh, Maya, I had completely…I'm such an idiot! How could I ever…Christ, I can't believe, after everything that you learned and said today-I'm so, so sorry. Fuck!"
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Maya look up at him in what he guessed must be shock. It was very rare indeed for Miles Edgeworth to be so flustered as to fall into using expletives. He ran a hand through his long bangs in frustration and chanced a glance at what he expected to be an upset Maya.
Instead, she was smirking, though the ghost of her sorrow still shadowed her face.
"…what?" he demanded, dumbfounded.
"Well, for one, you sound really funny when you swear like that. And you finally called me 'Maya'," she replied with the very smallest of chuckles. "But Edgeworth…" Her face became serious. "Don't worry about that."
"But in court-"
She waved her hand to stop his rebuttal. "Don't. What I said today…it…that shouldn't…" she sighed in exasperation. "What I mean is, that is completely different from what you want me to do. I couldn't…I don't want to… turn you down. What happened to you is just another way my family has hurt other people in the past, and if I start to fix that, as well as help you…" She looked even more faint now. Miles compulsively put a hand on her shoulder, afraid she would begin to waver on her feet. It was definitely time to wrap this up.
"Alright, Maya. As long as you are completely comfortable with it, I would sincerely appreciate your assistance. If it can help you, too, that's all the better. But please, I have stolen enough of your time and strength as it is." He couldn't keep a note of pleading out of his voice.
"Yeah…it's okay, really. I'm happy you trust me enough to do this." A genuine smile returned to her face, and she turned to leave.
He didn't know what to say that, so he just smiled self-consciously and gave her shoulder a small squeeze before letting her go. That seemed to be enough for her, for she turned to look behind her one last time to give another reassuring smile before rejoining her younger cousin and spiky-haired guardian.
Miles finally allowed his eyes to meet Phoenix's. The prosecutor burned with embarrassment under his age-old friend's gaze, but Wright didn't seem particularly perturbed with what he had seen of their exchange. He gave no indication of having actually overheard his conversation with Maya, considering that he looked intensely curious as to what had transpired. Maya wasn't giving any hints, thankfully, for Miles heard her exclaim with relish over her desire to sleep in an actual bed, and began to herd Phoenix and Pearl back around the corner and out of sight. Watching her do so gave him a new appreciation for Maya's ability to subtly disguise her intentions with a cover of over-the-top zeal.
That left Edgeworth alone on the street, Gumshoe and Franziska long forgotten and departed. He could feel the doubt and dread of his decision lurking in the back of his mind, but if he allowed all that to present itself now, he would never get any sleep tonight. After the experiences of the week, he needed it desperately. Using a mental technique he had perfected during his days being raised by von Karma, he locked away the dark shadows of doubt and began to make his way home.