He didn't know what was happening, which said a lot, because he knew what was happening beforehand.

It just felt so unreal, like it wasn't happening. He was too tired to even scream from the pain in his chest. He felt warm liquid seep through his clothes and astronaut suit, and as much as he wanted to, he couldn't lift his arms up to remove the cold metal blade.

He felt tears brimming up in his eyes. He had been warned something like this might happen, but he had clung onto the sliver of hope that maybe, just maybe, he would make it out of this alive. This was supposed to be his big day. Not his big day as in the day his death was announced, but his big day when he finally fulfilled his life-long dream, to finally go to space to see the planets and stars and moon in all it's glory.

But the launch wasn't happening today, he had known that since the start. But even that didn't matter. He didn't tell anybody what was happening, and heck, didn't even say his last goodbyes. Well, true, he told his father he was going to be gone for at least a few months, if not forever, which his father had taken as a joke, and Starbuck wasn't supposed to know about this anyway, but Apollo knew nothing-

Oh Nova, Apollo.

How was he going to take the death of his best friend?

Apollo had no family, and he admitted it himself that Clay was the closest thing he ever had to one. Clay knew the pain of it, his mother had died when he was still a child, but it was different. He still had his father then. Apollo would have nobody.

Suddenly he felt a pang of nausea in the pit of his stomach. Urk, no good. His vision was almost completely gone now. He felt numb all over, he knew it was the end.

Were dying people supposed to see everything as blue hue with white sparks, though?

Nobody answered him, and he wouldn't had been conscious enough for anybody to do so anyway.

Clay woke up-

Wait a minute.

He shot up from the bed immediately, looking at his hands and feeling his hair and just basically checking to see if he was a physical body. And he was.

What?

"Clay? What's that noise? Are you okay?" He heard a familiar voice call from outside. His father? What?

"I-I'm fine-" Clay made a frustrated and confused noise before plopping back down onto the bed, "Argh, stuff that! I don't know!"

A few moments, and the door creaked open, revealing Clay's father standing at the doorway, looking at his son and holding a mug of coffee in his hand, which he passed to Clay. Clay touched the handle of the mug with the tips of his fingers, unsure if they would just slip through his fingers like he didn't exist.

"What's wrong? You're acting like you've never touched coffee before." His father half-smiled in a joking manner. Shrugging his shoulders, he took the mug. If this was a dream, might as well live with it.

"I just-I don't know what I'm thinking anymore. I think I've gone insane." Clay stared at the steaming black liquid in the mug, before raising it to his lips to take a sip.

"There's no need to be so nervous, my son!" Clay's father sat down beside him, setting a hand on his further shoulder. "I know your launch is tomorrow, but-"

Clay spat out his drink almost comically at that, probably burning his lips and making them sting as his head immediately shot to his father.

"The launch-Is-Is-WHAT?!" Clay spluttered.

"Wh-Whoa there! What's wrong?" His father's body had immediately withdrawn itself from Clay, staring at him in wide eyes. "I thought you always remembered the date of the launch! It's your big day, you know!"

"My launch is...Tomorrow?" Clay repeated, stunned and in wonder. But there was no way it should be possible, he was taking his final dying breath at the Space Center a few minutes ago...

"Yup, tomorrow." His father's gentle smile had returned on his face, "Hey, you should be going. The Space Center decided to let you have a free day today, since you'll be leaving tomorrow. Take care, alright?"

"Yeah...I will." Clay was still dazed. Had time just rewound? Was he getting a second chance to reverse this? Was this all a joke? No, strike that last one out, it can't be a joke if I'm still alive after dying.

Clay exited the building to take a nice, deep breath of air. He still found it hard to believe. Time had just gone backwards, he had just went back in time.

"I wonder if I could do it again..." Clay thought out loud, holding out his hands in front of him to inspect them. It would be an awesome power to have, if he could control it. He concentrated a little bit, thinking about his time travelling powers. Sure enough, he saw a blue mist emit from his hands, as well as a few small white sparks shooting out. At that moment, his focus broke as he felt his mobile phone vibrate in his pocket, and he took it out and swiped his finger to unlock the screen.

[ Hey, Clay, your launch is tomorrow, right? Do you want to meet up with me one more time? -Apollo ]

Clay stared at the message on his phone. Even if the contact wasn't shown, he would've instantly registered it as Apollo. Only one person on the face of earth used such perfect English, even when texting their best friend.

[ K, when and where? -Clay ]

[ I was thinking at that field we usually go stargazing at, maybe at 5.00PM? -Apollo ]

Stargazing. Suddenly, Clay was reminded that his mission and death would be in less than twenty-four hours. Suddenly, he was desperate to talk to Apollo, feeling panic at the thought of losing any more time with him.

[ Actually, can we meet there now? -Clay ]

[ What? I thought you'd be busy? Besides, isn't this the time you usually just wake up? -Apollo ]

[ Now. Please. -Clay ]

He didn't even bother to look at Apollo's reply. He pocketed his phone and dashed off to the field. He needed to see Apollo, he thought he felt panic gripping at his chest. Knowing you have less than a day to live does not make you feel great or anything, a documentary by Clay Terran.

Clay reached the field long before Apollo. He tapped his foot on the ground, arms folded, and eyes darting around to try to find that twin-horned red-clad lawyer. He didn't quite know why he was feeling so anxious, but he needed to see Apollo.

"Clay?" His head shot up and turned to the direction of the voice. Sure as day, his friend was running up to him. Clay also ran up to Apollo, grabbing his wrists.

"Apollo." Clay breathed, feeling cold sweat run down his face. He felt his grip tighten, he knew his knuckles were white even under the gloves he wore.

"Clay? What's wrong?" Apollo asked gently, ignoring the painful grip on his wrists. He gently took a step back to have a better look at his friend's face.

"Apollo. Oh Nova, Apollo." Something in his mind snapped, and suddenly he released Apollo's wrists, and instead bowed down and wrapped his arms around his friend's neck. "A-Apollo. T-Tomorrow, the launch isn't happening." Clay buried his face into Apollo's shoulder. "I'm going to die, Apollo. I-I'm going to get k-killed."

Apollo didn't say anything, instead wrapping his arms around the crying wreck of his best friend.

Clay didn't know exactly how much time had passed, but soon his cries were reduced to tiny hiccups and sobs. Apollo was the first to pull away, which Clay complied to.

"Apollo...Sorry, I guess I kind of lost it." He let out a tired chuckle, "But...Promise me you won't tell anybody else, okay? Please?"

"I won't." Apollo's face was serious as he nodded. They had parted ways after that, Apollo returning to the Agency he worked at, and Clay returning home to get some rest. He felt like a tonne of iron had been lifted off his chest, finally opening up to somebody and letting them know just how truly scared he was about the whole mission. He was told he had the possibility of dying, he did die.

But he finally felt free, free of all the burden of fright he had to carry.

Okay, to the moon with whatever the heck poetic "feeling so free" or "no more worries" thing he said yesterday.

Standing in the Space Center, dressed in his astronaut suit and helmet in his hands, he knew he would be dead in a matter of hours.

He had already done it, he had drugged Starbuck, so he was currently in a daze. If only he could control his magical time-travelling powers, maybe he could go back in time, find the person who was doing this and murder them-

Wait. That would just make things worse.

With a sigh of frustration, he bonked his head onto his helmet. Ow, that hurt.

He was sitting alone in the visitor's lounge, which was currently empty. After all, the launch was soon, so it was pretty natural that it would be empty.

Clay heard the sound of doors sliding open, and his entire body tensed, his head shot towards it in a sudden surge of paranoia, afraid that he might see the person who murdered him.

"Apollo?" Clay's body relaxed as he let out a sigh of relief. Before he asked again, "Wait, how'd you get here? I thought visitor's weren't allowed in here yet."

Clay didn't have the sharp eyesight or magical all-detail-seeing powers his friend had, but he could tell something was off about Apollo. The way his eyes darted left and right, the way his body was tense and he wouldn't stop fidgeting, the way the aura he was radiating told Clay something was bad and just so wrong.

"They let me in." Apollo said simply, his voice sounding solid as if nothing was happening, "After all, I'm your best friend."

Clay nodded a little, "Wait, you didn't tell anybody, right?" Upon seeing the shake of Apollo's head, Clay let out another sigh of relief. He thought he saw Apollo start to move his arm, but it jerked to a stop. He was hesitating to do...Something, that was for sure.

"Clay...Could I tell you something?" Something in Apollo's forced monotonous voice made Clay feel like shrinking back and saying no. Nevertheless, he motioned for Apollo to come over, which he did.

"Yeah, Apollo? What is it?" Clay prompted once the brunette was standing in front of him. He felt it again, the nervousness that practically radiated from his tiny figure. He gently placed a hand on Apollo's shoulder, which caused him to jolt. Apollo was hesitating again, for what reason, Clay still didn't know.

Then he wasn't quite sure what happened because, heck, this wasn't in the script. One, two, action!- Stop, cut! You aren't supposed to swing your fist at the astronaut! Too late, smack, everything went black.

Ouch, he was going to go blind with that light.

Wait...Why was it so bright in the GYAXA Space Center?

Clay's half-opened, blurry eyes were rudely greeted with a blinding white light overhead. The smell of disinfectant suddenly hit his nose with the subtlety of a hurricane. Hold up a tick, the Space Center didn't smell like this.

And AAARGH, the left side of his head hurt like he had collided with space debris (Not that it had ever happened, but it had to be painful to get a facefull of rocks). He tried to blink out the dancing black spots in his eyes. His hands felt like pins and needles and freezing cold, he tried to recollect his thoughts and remember what had happened.

"...ay Terran?"

That was when he was vaguely aware of a voice calling...His name. Was that Apollo?

"Clay?"

No, that wasn't Apollo. His voice sounded nothing like the manly voice he was hearing.

It was then did his stupid vision finally decide to clear. He turned his head to the side to see some people sitting on chairs and looking at him.

Spiky black hair, funny front-ahoge, blue suit, Phoenix Wright, Apollo's mentor.

Really long orange hair, yellow jacket, weird blue digital necklace with smiley face, Athena Cykes, Apollo's junoir co-worker.

Blue top-hat, blue cape, everything screams magic, Trucy Wright, Apollo's assistant.

Clip board, white coat, spectacles, not Apollo, probably doctor.

Where's Apollo?

"You might want to give him some time before talking. He has mild smoke inhalation from the explosion, after all." The Doctor said, before exiting the room.

"So, you're Clay Terran, right?" Athena asked. Clay nodded a little, before forcing himself into a sitting position, gently rubbing the left side of his head.

"Are you okay?" Trucy looked concerned when she saw Clay wince upon touching the wound - How'd he get that there anyway? - on his head.

"I'm fine! I just...Hit my head, maybe, probably." Clay replied. The room went silent for a while, the three visitors looking at each other with a certain look in their eyes...Sadness? Pity? Remorse? Clay was never good at reading emotions.

Phoenix was the first one to speak, "They found you unconscious in a room which was locked from the outside, so they rescued you and brought you to the hospital. You also had a bruise to the left side of your head..."

"Hold up a tick." Clay stopped Phoenix short, "Where's Apollo?"

The silence returned once again, though this time it felt heavier.

Then it was broken by the sound of a sniffle, and then Trucy threw her arms around Athena, who returned the hug. Phoenix kept his gaze on Clay, a solid, serious one which made shivers go down his spine, but there was also a kind of pitying, tired look in his eyes.

"That's...Part of what we came here to tell you." Phoenix finally answered. Suddenly, the wall opposite from Clay looked particularly beautiful to him, because he averted his gaze from Clay and refused to look at him in the eye.

"Well? Where's he, then?" Clay prompted. What was so wrong that they couldn't tell him where Apollo was? Did he get hurt in the two explosions that occurred in the Space Center? Did he go missing for some reason? What-

"He...Was found in the visitor's lounge." Phoenix's voice was strained as he choked out those words. Clay raised his eyebrow for a moment, not understanding what he meant, but then it dawned upon him.

Found in the visitor's lounge.

"Y-You're lying." Clay's eyes widened as he felt the colour drain from his face, bile rising in his throat. "You're lying! YOU'RE LYING! THAT'S NOT TRUE!" Clay grabbed Phoenix by the lapels of his suit, forcing the two to face each other. Apollo couldn't have just died in his place. He couldn't.

"Polly...He told us to give this to you." Trucy finally spoke up, her voice still quiet and shaky, as she gently placed a small, brown box beside Clay, who eyed the box as he slowly released his hold on Phoenix. "We weren't allowed to read what was inside...Maybe you should read it..."

At that moment, the door opened once more to reveal his father. He said nothing as he slowly walked over to his son's bedside, sitting down on the bed beside him. Clay leaned back in the bed a bit to look at his father.

"Tell me Apollo isn't dead. Tell me they were all lying." Clay demanded shakily the moment the older man sat down. His father only sighed, and shook his head.

"I'm...Really sorry, Clay. I know he was a good friend of your's." Clay felt his stomach plummet.

"So, it's real, then? Apollo's...Gone? Just like that?" Clay subconsciously grabbed the box and clenched it in his hands.

His father's arms wrapped around him was the only answer Clay needed, but didn't want.

"A-Apollo...No...H-He wasn't meant to die! It's my fault! I'M SORRY!" Clay yelled in despair as he buried his face into his father's shoulder. He felt more arms wrapping around him, and that only made him want to cry even more, but he had no tears. His eyes were all dry. He didn't deserve comfort from any of the Wright Anything Agency members, he didn't deserve comfort from anyone or anything at all.

No more words were exchanged until visiting hours were over. Trucy was still wrecked with sobs and hiccups, Athena was as well. Phoenix looked even more tired than before, and his father could only offer a sympathetic look.

He stared at the box in his hands, then looked around. Nobody else was around, he might as well open it.

The top was closed and carefully taped shut. Deciding to at least show some respect, he opened the box as slowly as he could in an attempt not to ruin the box (Which he failed, but give him some credit, he tried).

Clay's heart stopped short.

Inside the box, Apollo's bracelet was neatly tucked inside, along with a folded piece of paper.

With trembling hands, Clay plucked the paper from the box and opened it, reading it's contents.

After reading that note, his tears finally fell, and he cried more than he ever did in his entire life.

"Are you sure you don't want to go back yet, Clay? It's kind of late." Phoenix asked the younger man in concern. Clay simply shook his head, offering a small smile.

"Bye, Clay." Trucy gave him a small pat on the back, before the Wright Family, along with Athena, who had followed them, left the cemetery.

"...Hey, Apollo." Clay sat down in front of the grave. He stared at the bunch of flowers he had placed there earlier - Red roses, and sunflowers. Those two were always Apollo's favourite flowers.

"This...Is kind of pathetic, isn't it? A year later, and I'm still not over the whole thing..." Clay smiled at the grave, fiddling with the petal of one of the sunflowers. "I know I told you at least four months ago, about how I had those powers...I tried them again today, but like before, they didn't work. If only I could bring you back, huh?" He was answered with silence, and Clay moved his hand from the flowers.

"I've been taking care of your bracelet, if that's what you were wondering." He continued, his right hand rubbing right under his left wrist, "I hope you don't mind me wearing it...It's really cool, and it reminds me of you, in a good way."

He took out the small folded piece of paper that was always in his pocket, no matter the circumstance. The final note Apollo had written to him.

"It's kind of a tradition how I always read this note out loud to you, huh?" Clay asked the gravestone. Clay gave a small grin, "Well, here I go again..."

"Hey, Clay.

"If you've gotten this package and you're reading this note, that probably means I'm...Well, gone.

"You're probably confused and mad, so let me explain.

"You told me you were going to die on the day of the launch, and you broke down and cried. I'll admit I didn't believe you at first, and it sounded pretty weird, but seeing you cry hurt me. I knew you were scared, so I knew I had to save you.

"How I got into the visitor's lounge was no lie, though. They let me in since I was your friend. And I'm really sorry I had to knock you out, it was probably the quickest and safest way. And I'm not too sure how I managed to lock you in that room, either.

"I stole your space suit and helmet and put it on. Although our faces and voices are a bit different, nobody knew the difference, and that was all that mattered.

"I'm honestly not sure if I'll die, like you said you would. To be honest, I'm scared, too. But thinking that what I'm doing is for you, I feel braver and more determined.

"If I do get killed, then I'm sorry. I'm really sorry I left you.

"You deserved better, you didn't deserve a lousy friend like me, but this was the best I could offer to you. Take this as an apology, and a thank you.

"I'm sorry I had to leave you. You were always there to pick me back up on my feet each time I fell. I'm sorry for being a burden you had to carry throughout the course of your life. You were always the one supporting me, and I didn't do very much on my part to help you. I'm sorry I sound like such a huge wimp right now, but oh my God, Clay, even as I'm writing this, the clock's ticking. The launch is soon, too soon. I didn't even tell you my final goodbye.

"I want you to know how much I really love you, Clay. In fact, I would die a thousand times if it's to save you from feeling any pain at all.

"Final farewell,
Apollo Justice."

"And Apollo...I hope you know I love you too."

Author's notes: Trying my hand at superpowers/AUs...I failed HAHAHA...Agh, sorry.

This is going to be one of those stories I really regret posting. I've had this in my Doc Manager for MONTHS.

I'm pretty sure the Visitor's Lounge of the Space Center wasn't empty, but shhHHHHhHHHhhhhHH I NEED THIS TO WORK.

I know the starting is absolute garbage. Actually, scrap that, the entire thing was absolute garbage.

Please R&R. And please don't kill me.