Disclaimer – The Ace Attorney series and all its characters are owned by Capcom, this is merely a fan-work based off of it. I claim no ownership of the series whatsoever.

A/N – I also claim no ownership of Ace Attorney Investigations 2, which at the time of this publishing has not been released or is planned to be released locally. As an Ace Attorney fan, this is one of many reasons I am currently boycotting all Capcom products. Aah, forgive me; I seem to have left my soapbox up here. In spite of that, I can still enjoy the series I have already bought. Therefore, I present:

Brew

A one-shot fanfiction by,

TheEndOfTomorrow.

Fill, brew, pour, drink.

Making coffee was its own microcosmic cycle of life – the pure, life-giving water colored and then stained with the ground coffee, like the innocence of a child freshly tainted to the critical mindset of an adult. The drink was gradually siphoned away and used up, until naught was left but an empty cup.

Diego still remembered thinking that cup tasted especially strange. It was as if the specter of Death itself had specially prepared that cup for him – and within moments of his lips kissing the side of the porcelain mug, the same lips that had kissed 'her' mere hours before - Diego Armando died.

It was pouring rain outside. Godot sat by the window, the red light from his mask casting a crimson pallor over the otherwise dark room. It was his own apartment, but he needed no light – the Prosecutor Godot had no room in his life for light after five years ago. Chilled air from the outside drafted through the window, amplified by the persistent thrashes of wind and rain pelting the glass. Godot welcomed it with a small grin. For all its effort to cause misery, the weather merely made his coffee even more enjoyable. Newspapers were spread out on the table in front of the man – every single one either headlining or mentioning a certain spiky-haired defense attorney.

It was all Godot could do not to slam his fist down upon a particularly large picture of Phoenix Wright, sitting in court with a sheepish grin plastered over his face as though he had freshly dodged a bullet. A surge of bubbling hate brewed within Godot's chest simply staring at his photo, idly wondering why the stupidest people seemed to be graced with a divine mote of plain good luck. Luck was all Wright had - gripping his mug tightly, Godot downed another gulp of Blend #86 – the heat merely seemed to interlace into his veins, amplifying the anger broiling within.

Wright had let her die. Wright had taken her place. Wright had let Mia Fey become a memory. Unable to contain himself, Godot sneered – slamming his drink down hard onto the table, breaking the mug in two. What remained of the dark brown liquid within crept over the newspaper, staining Wright's visage. The sight made the prosecutor smirk, somewhat symbolic of his plans for the attorney. He would prove to Wright, beyond a shadow of a doubt, just how inferior he was to Mia both as an attorney and as a person. Godot had everything planned out – he would save Maya Fey from her aunt Morgan's insidious plot without Wright's help, show Wright how badly he had failed Mia – and then sully Wright's court career with a series of defeats.

"Maybe then you'll understand, 'Trite.'" Godot spoke out loud to the darkness – staring again out the window. Without his brew, the chill managed to sink deeper into his body, but the man couldn't bring himself to care. It was nothing compared to the cold chill of his heart – something no scalding hot cup of coffee had been able to thaw since he returned to life months ago. That accursed day – Godot still wasn't sure quite what had 'saved his life', though he hardly considered it as such. Had it been a quick response to his poisoning? Was it plainly and simply the will to live? When he awoke, and Diego Armando heard the news of Mia Fey's own passing a few years prior, the man then had his answer: Death had brought him to the brink, and played the cruelest cosmic joke possible on him.

Further research revealed to Diego everything. How Mia had gone on to convict Dahlia Hawthorne, saving Phoenix Wright – the man who would eventually become her understudy, the man who would fail to save her in Diego's stead. In those early days, when Diego first donned the mask, thoughts of Wright, blissfully unaware of his extreme failure dancing through his mind – that was the moment Diego Armando truly ceased to exist. 'Godot' rose from the ashes...with every intention of being Wright's greatest foe; sharing with the defense attorney a small sampling of the painful hand Godot himself had been dealt.

Godot knew court from the other side as Diego – with a combination of that knowledge and the barrier of ice he had encased himself in, he easily made his way into the Prosecutor's office. Step one. The second step had been to follow up on Wright's case against Morgan Fey – and lo and behold, Godot had discovered another one of Wright's failures in the making. Mia's sister was being targeted, and Wright remained ignorant. Godot took matters into his own hands...and now, he was on the cusp of his first trial versus Wright. The old defense attorney buried within Godot almost felt a bit for the defendant, because whether truly innocent or guilty, there was only one verdict Godot sought after. That verdict would sentence Wright to a taste of the prosecutor's own shackles of pain.

Godot finally released the handle of the crushed mug, not realizing he had still been gripping it in his hands. The white-haired prosecutor stood up, facing the window. The rain outside was the perfect backdrop, he reasoned. The cold drops of water falling from the night sky above, forming swift rivers of runoff along the sides of the road – the street devoid of all life, anyone who had been on the street so late had since disappeared with the onset of the storm.

"Ha...!" Godot laughed out loud, that anger broiling within keeping him from growing cold just at the sight of it. After all, the entire image was a grand analogy for everything that had transpired since his transformation. Night had fallen on his life, the street on which he stood was empty save himself – and although physically he was no longer capable of crying, the free-falling teardrops of the sky illustrated exactly what he felt like inside when not enthralled in his hatred of Phoenix Wright.

Godot turned sharply away, briefly running his hand over the sodden newspaper – before deciding to allow 'Trite' to soak in the spilled brew overnight, simply not caring enough to clean up properly. "But a lawyer can't cry...until it's all over." He muttered to himself, those words the only thing that were keeping him going.

Outside, the rain slowed, as if honoring his request. The prosecutor made for another mug – pouring himself another cup, the very last of his coffee pouring into the waiting mug. He raised the drink to his lips, drinking in a great gulp – the heat scalding, as if reminding him he were still living in his personal cage of torment. "Aah...bitter." He remarked, grinning a bit. Truthfully, every cup had been especially bitter with Mia gone. Since she had left his life, every drink seemed as if spoiled. The grin widened, taking on an almost feral edge – he could not cry, and thus Godot's only other out was anger. It was only fitting that the pot was empty – besides the hot rage and coffee coursing through him now, Godot had absolutely nothing else.

The prosecutor raised his mug a bit, as if in tribute to something or someone unseen. "I'll drag you down with me…welcome to my hell, Trite."

A/N – Godot is, I suspect, a favored character by many among the Ace Attorney fandom. He certainly left an impression on me so much that I felt like writing a character sketch about him. While I realize this added nothing much to the overall story and the concept has probably been done to death, I wanted to try my own take on Godot and see what I came up with. I've determined my own results, and now the duty lay with you the reader to formulate your own as well. How did I do? Please do let me know, either by review or otherwise. I always seem to learn something new with every piece I write or publish, a trend I do not suspect will ever end. Hearing the opinions of others is certainly valuable as well.

Until next time,

Take care, Dear Reader.

-TheEndOfTomorrow.