This was initially about six times as long… it jumped around, from the Christmas Eve incident at Gourd Lake all the way to the end of the trial, and then my brain exploded so I had to cut some. *shrugs* Once I got into narrating for Edgeworth, I guess it was too much fun. Anyway, here it is.

~~11.2 Bring Me To Life~~

He wasn't really sure what to expect when Wright grabbed his arm and hustled him aside. His eyes still watering from the bright flash and his senses still somewhat dazed from the rapid end to the trial—and the enormous revelations that had come with it—he didn't immediately hear what the other man was trying to tell him.

"Come again?" he said, feeling irrationally irritable, but immediately guilty.

Wright took away his hand, if a bit slowly. "Well…" The others were still babbling, hugging one another and gesticulating wildly. At points confetti randomly rained down from somewhere, and everyone laughed incessantly. "It's just that…"

Now that he could actually be heard, it seemed to make him hesitant. Edgeworth wanted to smack him, yell "Spit it out!" But somehow that wouldn't even have been appropriate at a time when Wright hadn't just saved his life. Finally he said, "Is this something about the trial?"

Obviously somewhat relieved, Wright managed to shrug and nod at the same time, looking sheepish as usual. "Yeah. Sort of. I just wanted to… I guess apologize."

Edgeworth gaped at him for a moment. "For what?" It occurred to him that after the long, self-revelatory conversation they'd just had in front of a near-stranger and Larry, this had to be something really good, for Wright to pull him aside like this.

He could barely speak when Wright said, "About von Karma. Sorry." It was almost like a punch to the midsection. That horrible scream flashed through his mind again, the sensation of suffocating, his father's face drawn in fear… He blinked, feeling as if he really might faint at any moment. It hadn't really hit him yet, he supposed. Vaguely he was able to imagine that his mentor… the man who'd taken him in fifteen years ago, who'd raised him, given him a sister, had taught him everything he knew… that von Karma had only done it to avenge himself on Edgeworth's father for some stupid penalty in court. It would probably leave him in tears in the middle of the night sooner or later, but for right now there was a faint glaze over everything.

Wright was still talking, hardly making sense. "I just know that… that when Mia died, it was the worst thing I could have imagined. Worse than when I was accused of murder one time. I could hardly accept that she was gone. So I guess what I'm trying to say is that even if I don't really know how you feel, I'm sorry for having… you know. Caused it."

The poor, stupid, well-meaning idiot: he was trying to apologize for catching the real killer, because it made his friend feel awful. Edgeworth was sorely tempted to laugh, and had he not been so close to hysteria as it was, he might have. But that wouldn't have been fair to Wright, either.

It further occurred to him that the other man was having a fair amount of success guessing his emotions. For someone who sometimes acted and appeared so clueless, Wright had amazing insight. Edgeworth was almost startled to find that… could it be? yes, he was actually relieved, though perhaps he would never tell that to the other man. Finally, someone who could actually understand…

Taking a deep breath, he managed to shove down the mental images and speak quite calmly, though each one was trying to force itself up to make him ill. "Wright, you don't have to apologize." He wanted to say that Mia Fey's death hadn't been in any way like the betrayal of his mentor… but he knew it was. He'd worshipped von Karma, had loved him in a different way than his father, but being so close with Franziska had made it somewhat easier to forget that he hadn't always been a part of their family. He'd never doubted that he wanted to be just like von Karma… until someone came along who proved him utterly mistaken.

Wright was finally looking up at him now, and their eyes locked as he continued. "I appreciate your concern, but you were only doing your duty." Damn! Why was this coming out so stilted and formal? He cleared his throat and tried again. "That is to say, I'm more grateful to you than words can express… the painful truth is always better than a soothing lie."

That wasn't what he'd meant to say, either. But Wright seemed to understand, and it was better than nothing. The other man suddenly grasped his hand: it was like an electric thrill. "Okay. Edgeworth, just please… please say you'll be all right. Even if you don't want to ask for help, you'll know you could anyway, right?"

His immediate reaction should have been to try and extricate himself from Wright's grasp: there were half a dozen other people nearby, and the cold little High Prosecutor's voice inside him was murmuring that he might later regret this. But somehow, Edgeworth just didn't care. Something in him was rising, a warm and extremely vulnerable wish to repay someone who'd gone all out, to coin the phrase. His blood was pounding in a way it never had, and for the first time in years, he knew for a fact that someone cared what happened to him: not just physically or in terms of a career, but emotionally. Wright truly seemed to invest himself in whether Edgeworth would recover, and just that was enough to unfreeze his lips, allow him to unleash some of his real spirit.

"I'll be all right," was all he could think to say, but he knew that for once it didn't sound either cold or arrogant. Wright's eyes were still fixed in his own, and he could feel that the other man understood. The future was going to be different, now that he'd been unfrozen, brought back to life.

A little hand startled them both by wrapping itself around Wright's chest. Their hands flew apart. "Well! Let's go!" Maya Fey exclaimed, dark eyes beaming at them both. "You still want to, right, Mr. Edgeworth?"

"Of course," he answered automatically, then repeated it louder, more assuredly. "Yes, of course. Let's go." Before someone started berating him with an exclamation mark and "pal" dropped between every sentence, that was.

As they rejoined the others, Edgeworth couldn't help but glance over at Wright, whose attention was now being wholly claimed by his assistant and surrogate younger sister. The grin on his face seemed genuine, and Edgeworth found himself ever so slightly envious for a moment. He was about to brush the feeling away… when he thought better of it. Perhaps letting himself go… having petty emotions for once… would be good for him.