A/N This will be the last full chapter, though I plan to finish the story with a small epilogue.

-Hickfield Clinic-

Edgeworth had been caught off-guard by Trucy's unabashed display of affection. After she disappeared nimbly out the door with that Apollo kid trailing behind, Miles crossed his arms protectively over his chest and stared at the empty spot she had occupied. His face was quickly heating up.

He could feel Phoenix's unbearably smug grin beaming on him from over his hunched shoulders.

"You don't look like that when I kiss you," Phoenix quipped.

"Wright..."

Phoenix broke into laughter. Miles stiffly turned around to glare at him. The ex-attorney was still lounging back in his hospital bed, hands buried in his jacket pockets. Turning to face him only served to make Phoenix laugh harder. Miles sighed, unfurling himself.

He never could stay mad at him for too long, anyways.

"Remind me why I married you again?" He moved to take one of the chairs set up for the visitors that Justice had been previously occupying. It was only logical to make himself more comfortable now that they were alone.

Phoenix calmed his laughter enough to hold a cocky smirk.

"Because I'm so pretty."

Phoenix dissolved into snickering again. Miles rolled his eyes, dragging the chair to rest beside Phoenix's bed.

Phoenix was laughing so hard this time that he withdrew one hand from his pocket to cover his face in an attempt to quell his fit. Once he had, a pained look dawned on his face and he sobered up instantly. Miles reached for him, worried, though he wasn't exactly sure where to grab. He had completely forgotten that the idiot was injured.

"Phoenix, what did you do?" It was more of a command than a question.

Phoenix groaned and shifted in the bed, presumably to find a more comfortable position. "There was a car. I got hit."

"I figured out that much," Miles said. Phoenix was going to confess. Now.

Phoenix shrugged, his usual relaxed behavior returning. "I'm fine, really. The pole broke my fall. Well, really my head did, but the pole helped."

"WHAAAT!?" Miles stood up. Phoenix got rammed by a car and flew into pole? Head first?

How was that even possible?

Then again, this was Phoenix Wright they were talking about. If he could survive plummeting forty feet off a burning bridge onto a frozen ravine and walk away, a hit and run was probably nothing. But still, just how badly was he hurt? Were there bandages hidden underneath that beanie? Nothing looked swollen... He was still breathing, obviously, but that did nothing to subdue the wave of fear that crashed into Miles as his mind spiraled through all the possible injuries Wright could have suffered.

"Calm down, Miles." Phoenix reached up and took the prosecutor's hand with the one free from his jacket, which looked rather difficult from his position on the bed. It was warm and strong and not broken. "I just twisted my ankle."

Miles felt a numbness creep over him. He wasn't sure whether he should be relieved, frustrated, or impressed, and all three was at once was giving him an unpleasant sensation in the pit of his stomach. Heavily, he sank back down into his chair, hand going limp in Phoenix's grip.

"You could have said so sooner," he said breathlessly.

"Yeah," Phoenix was smirking again. He had obviously planned to leave Miles in the dark about the extent of his injuries. Jerk. "I could have."

Not funny, Phoenix.

Miles didn't have the energy to work up a decent glare. He did, however, manage to lift his head up. "And you still don't think you should have called me?"

Phoenix grimaced. "I'm the one who's supposed to do all the worrying." He gave Miles' hand a reassuring squeeze. "Besides, you had a case."

So that was what this was all about? Miles doubted it. He shook his head. "That's not important."

Phoenix grinned. He was up to something, again. "So I'm important?"

Edgeworth could tell that he was fishing for compliments, but Miles returned the pressure on Phoenix's hand anyways. This was serious. Phoenix could have been honestly hurt. Or worse. Miles thought that Phoenix of all people would understand how terrifying a thought that was to him, given all the people the other man had lost over the years.

"Yes," Miles said steadily. "You are. So I'd appreciate being informed in the future. You're not alone here, Phoenix."

Phoenix clicked his tongue and tried to pull his hand away, likely preparing to change the topic, but Miles held fast. "Miles..."

"I'm serious, Phoenix. Ever since you lost your badge, you think you have to do everything on your own." Miles looked down at their hands, unable to continue eye contact with Phoenix as the conversation grew heavier. His was pale and cold, where Phoenix's was warm and tan. Both were bare. He laced their fingers together. "You don't."

This time, Phoenix sighed. He pulled his other hand, his left, out of his pocket with some difficulty. On it was a soft gold band, worn from years of wear. Phoenix covered their laced hands with his ringed one, the precious metal surprisingly warm from being in his pocket. Miles shifted in surprise. So he did wear it when the prosecutor wasn't around. The one in Miles' pocket was something he was suddenly too aware of.

He felt a little guilty.

Neither of them looked up from their clasped hands for a while. They sat quietly together. Miles was too touched to say anything and he supposed Phoenix was tired of staring at his bowed head.

"I knew you would come running back here if I told you, so I just didn't, okay?" Phoenix said finally. It was a fair point, because it was exactly what had happened when Miles had found out. "Let's just drop it, please? You're already here so there's no use fighting over it."

Miles tightened his grip on Phoenix's hand. He didn't want to keep lecturing Phoenix, but he wanted to make sure that they wouldn't be in this situation again. Ever. Especially because next time could be a lot worse.

"All right," Miles started, being the first to look up. Phoenix was using his left hand to draw nervous circles on the back of Miles' own, likely waiting for this conversation to be over. It was turning into something agonizing for the both of them. "As long as you promise to inform me next time any rogue cars jump you, hm? I won't have to come all the way over here if I know you're still breathing."

Phoenix laid his hand flat again. "Okay," he agreed, turning his head up to smile tentatively at Miles.

Miles felt himself relax now that that was settled and Phoenix was smiling again. Any other expression just didn't look right on his face. Well, maybe panic did, but only in the courtroom. And those days were over, anyways. Now that all his anger and worry had been relieved, Miles felt his long trip and sleepless night starting to catch up to him.

"Good. We can finally have some time to ourselves." To punctuate that he didn't mean it in any suggestive way, he leaned back tiredly against his chair. Phoenix winked at him nevertheless. Miles figured that rolling his eyes would be a wasted effort. "You know what I mean."

"Unfortunately," Phoenix pretended to be disappointed. "But I suppose you actually being here for once is good enough."

That was... a low blow. But Phoenix wasn't going to gain anything from it. This was a hospital, for crying out loud!

"You look tired," Phoenix continued after it became apparent to him that Miles wasn't biting. "Long trip?"

Miles scrubbed his face with his free hand. "Too long," he agreed. "All turn overs and delays. You're lucky you weren't answering your phone or I might have snapped on you."

"Hmm... Well, you need to catch up on your sleep. You're already falling behind in your duties, but your health? Can't have that." Phoenix scooted over in his bed, taking one hand off the pile and gesturing to the space he had made.

"Absolutely not," Miles said. Oh, it was tempting, but-as Phoenix seemed to keep forgetting-hospitals were public building.

Phoenix gave their intertwined fingers a tug. "Come on, Miles. You're exhausted."

"Not on your life. I know what you want and it's not going to happen."

"I promise not to do anything." Phoenix continued pulling. "You look like crap, anyways."

"You're too kind." Miles knew that Phoenix would take this as consent. He had practically pulled the prosecutor out of his chair already, so there was really no point in resisting. And the offer was very appealing.

"Hold on a minute," Miles said, standing the rest of the way out of the chair. He detached his hand from Phoenix's and removed his jacket, slinging it as neatly as he could across the back of the chair. There weren't any hangers in sight, nor any places to hang them if there had been. Next, he worked on unbuttoning his waistcoat. If he was going to do this he was at least going to get comfortable first. Phoenix tried to sit up and help him with the buttons, but Miles pushed the other man away when Phoenix paled at having jostled his ankle again. Idiot.

After kicking off his shoes, Miles climbed into the bed beside Phoenix. Before he was fully settled, two hands suddenly came up and grabbed Miles' face, making it impossible to recoil when Phoenix pulled him down and planted a kiss on his lips.

"You said you wouldn't do anything." Miles reprimanded, precariously balanced in Phoenix's lap.

Phoenix shrugged from under him. "Hey, my daughter already stole your first 'welcome home' kiss. I just wanted my share."

Miles shook his head. Phoenix still had that stupid hat on. He pulled it off before Phoenix could protest.

Phoenix made a grab for it. "Hey-"

"I like your hair better like this," Miles said. He tossed the beanie aside onto one of the side tables, mindful of the DVDs still towering on it.

Phoenix ran a hand through his revealed spikes. They were droopy from being compressed under that hat all day, but Miles didn't doubt that they would perk back up given enough time. Without the beanie, Miles could also fully see Phoenix's forehead and eyebrows. He looked more... complete without it.

Miles realized he was smiling wistfully at Phoenix.

"I have hat hair, don't I?" Phoenix ducked his head.

"A little," Miles consented, taking a chance to play with Phoenix's hair himself, trying to put the spikes back into place. "But I apparently 'look like crap', so-"

Phoenix kissed his again. Nothing was holding Miles this time, but he gave in anyways. Phoenix's kisses were warm and soft and a little desperate after their time apart, which was always too long.

Phoenix tugged on his cravat. "Are you going to keep this on?"

"Don't want you getting any ideas." This time, Miles pulled Phoenix back into the kiss, fingers still playing with his disheveled hair.

Miles pulled away before letting it get too passionate. The last thing they needed was for Trucy and Apollo to come bouncing back in to find them making out like teenagers. Not that that particular activity wouldn't happen later, but for now Miles was still exhausted and in desperate need of some sleep. It was a small bed, so Miles almost fell off the side as soon as he tried to get comfortable. Phoenix caught him and rolled the other man onto himself, letting out a pained hiss when Miles' foot knocked into his injured ankled.

"Sorry."

"You're fine," Phoenix reassured, though his voice was a strained. "Get some sleep."

They finally settled with Miles lying mostly on top of Phoenix, head resting on his chest. Phoenix started stroking lazy patterns on Miles' back. He sighed contentedly in response.

"How long are you staying?" Phoenix asked, his chin coming to rest on Miles' head.

"Sunday," Miles answered shortly, his eyelids already getting heavy. Phoenix was close and firm and smelt like laundry detergent, since he could never convince the man to invest in cologne.

It was all that Miles wanted.

"But it's only Tuesday." Miles felt Phoenix sit up a little confusion. "You're taking the whole week?"

Miles wished Phoenix would stop asking questions and just let him rest. "I think I've earned enough vacation time. The office owes me." Hearing that Phoenix was in the hospital had scared Miles, so he had jumped the gun with taking time off. And just maybe he had missed Phoenix a little too much and was going to use this incident to his advantage. Maybe.

Miles felt Phoenix nod, seemingly storing the information away. He continued to rub circles on Miles's back. They stayed like this for a while, Phoenix occasionally moving his hand from Mile's back to run through his hair. Miles had definitely been gone too long if he was actually enjoying all this attention, but he also figured that Phoenix must have missed him as well if he was content just lying together like this. He was just drifting off when Phoenix spoke again.

"Hey, Miles?" The stroking stopped.

"Mmmmm...?" Barely aware of what Phoenix was asking.

"What's in your pocket? It's killing my leg." Phoenix shifted underneath him as if to emphasize his point.

Miles was a little more awake now. "Take it out," he ordered, not appreciating being disturbed.

Miles felt Phoenix's hand slid down to his waist. He lifted himself up just enough so that Phoenix could slip the hand inside his pocket. Phoenix withdrew a moment later.

"Better?" Miles murmured after settling back down onto Phoenix's chest.

"Yeah," Phoenix replied vaguely. Miles was awake again because of all the moving around. Awake and sensitive to Phoenix's change in tone, an ability he had acquired from their long time apart with only phone calls for communication.

"What was it?" he asked. He was still tired from the trip and he did want to get some sleep, but not quite yet.

He got no reply.

"Phoenix?" Miles opened his eyes when he got no answer still. He rolled his head on Phoenix's chest until he could see the other man's face. Phoenix had one cupped hand drawn close, his thumb fiddling with whatever was being held in his palm. When he realized Miles was watching him, Phoenix snapped his hand closed.

"...Nothing. Spare change."

"Oh. Keep it." This conversation was going nowhere. Phoenix could probably use some money, though. Miles made himself a mental note to sneak some into Phoenix's wallet before he left. He felt Phoenix slip the change into his jacket pocket. Afterwards, Miles let his hand drift over until he found Phoenix's. He drew it to himself and tried to get comfortable again.

"...Phoenix?"

"Yeah, Miles?"

Miles laced their fingers together from where he was holding them against his chest, his fingers fitting around the warm metal of Phoenix's ring.

He let his eyes drift closed again. "Let's not have any more run-ins like this in the future."

"Eh." One arm wrapped around Miles as Phoenix rested his cheek in Mile's hair. "You should have seen the other guy."

"The other guy was a car, Phoenix."

"Yep." Miles wondered if that beanie was cutting off the blood supply to Phoenix's brain.

Sometime before he fell asleep, Miles thought that he heard the opening theme of the Steel Samurai start playing.

-Hickfield Clinic-

Miles was a goner. Phoenix could tell because the other man's tight grip on his fingers had loosened considerably. Not discounting that Miles didn't even stir when he resumed play of the Steel Samurai, and it had taken some tricky maneuvering to get the next disk in without disturbing him. Gently, Phoenix removed his hand from between his and Miles' chests.

Miles remained breathing quietly.

Yep, he's out cold.

The blood started rushing back to Phoenix's hand. He shook it to speed up the process, not enjoying the pins-and-needles sensation.

Jeez, Miles. You need to loosen up.

His work must have been running him pretty hard. Phoenix hadn't seen him in months with all the back to back cases Miles had been taking on, always on the brink of cracking something big. Phoenix was used to the excuses. But if Miles wanted to sleep through his whole visit, Phoenix was okay with that. Just being able to assure himself that the prosecutor was getting any rest at all was enough to make Phoenix happy. Miles would run himself into the ground left alone, so Phoenix vowed to help him take a load off as long as he was here.

Phoenix continued to play with Miles' hair and stare blankly at the television. He wasn't really watching it, since he had accidentally popped in the wrong disk and didn't have heart to try to fix it since it would risk waking Miles. Phoenix contented himself with the knowledge that Miles was near and safe and not seemingly forever and a day away. The current distance between them was much better, in Phoenix's opinion. On the side table still sat his beanie. With Miles completely vulnerable, Phoenix saw an opportunity he couldn't pass up. He snagged the hat once feeling returned to his hand, carefully so as not to alert the unsuspecting prosecutor.

-Hickfield Clinic-

"Polly, it won't take it!" Trucy said in exasperation as she tried to shove yet another crumpled bill into the vending machine. It sucked the money out of her hand, only to spit it back a moment later.

"That was the last one, wasn't it?" They had been standing here for the better of five minutes going through every dollar. Every dollar that wasn't German, that was, and Apollo doubted those would be of much help.

"Yep." Trucy took the rejected dollar from the machine and held it out to Apollo dejectedly. The pile of failures that he was holding had grown sadly large in his hand. "What do we do?"

Apollo took the last dollar from Trucy. Honestly, at this point he would have just given up, but Trucy had been so excited.

And he feared what Miles Edgeworth would do to him if they returned empty-handed.

Think, Justice. Perceive.

Apollo pocketed the useless bills and scanned the lobby. If only they could find some quarters. Coins couldn't be bent out of shape. Well, usually. Apollo wasn't going to put it past Trucy to try of they found any, knowing her ability to turn anything into a magic trick. The lobby was quiet except for a nurse at the admission desk stamping some files.

That would do.

"Hey,Trucy? Let's go see if that nurse has any change on her." Apollo suggested, starting off in her direction. Trucy made a sound of agreement and followed behind.

They reached the desk and, though the nurse was not too happy at being disrupted from her work, she was able to give them a handful of quarters in exchange for some of the dollars. To be completely honest, she was probably just so unfriendly because Apollo had accidentally handed her one of the German bills first. Oops. Apollo gave the change to Trucy when they got back to the vending machine and she started counting it.

"Hey, Polly? You know, there are lots of tricks I can do with these."

I knew it...

"Do any of them involve the quarters disappearing? Because we kind of need them," Apollo said.

"Oh, right," Trucy looked disappointed. Then, she suddenly perked up and picked up one quarter. She held it between two fingers. "But I can also bend-"

"We also need the unbent!" Apollo interrupted.

"Fine. Hey, Polly? Anyone ever tell you that you're a spoil-sport?"

Thanks, you're too kind.

"Let's just get your juice…" Apollo said, deflated.

The quarters worked much better than then the dollars had, since the machine actually recognized them. Soon the pair was walking back to Mr. Wright's hospital room, Trucy precariously balancing several boxes of grape juice and a bag of Snackoos.

"Why did we buy those again?" Apollo asked, pointing to the offending snack. He really didn't want to remember being pelted with them by a certain detective.

I hope Trucy isn't planning to take any pages out of her book...

"I wanted to try them," Trucy said. "That detective lady looked like she was really enjoying them so..."

Apollo nodded. At least she wasn't going to start throwing start throwing them at people.

When they reached Mr. Wright's room for the second time that day, Apollo hesitated before opening the door. Had they been gone long enough to give Mr. Edgeworth and Mr. Wright some privacy? The whole vending machine ordeal had taken longer than he had anticipated, but still. Apollo could hear voices faintly coming from the other side of the door. Maybe if he just told Trucy he had to go to the bathroom or something...

"Hey, Trucy...?"

Trucy made up the decision to open the door for him, seemingly having no inhibitions about intruding on the two men. She stacked the bag of Snackoos in her one hand on top of the grape juice boxes in the other and made a grab for the door handle before the whole pile toppled over. Then, she gave him a push.

Stepping just inside the door, Apollo froze. He should not be in here. Mr. Wright was still in his bed, but now Mr Edgeworth had joined him. The two men were... were... cuddling!

Apollo ducked and threw his arms defensively over his head, expecting to be accosted by all sorts of jibes from Mr. Wright for catching him like this. Silence. That wasn't a good sign. Or was it? Apollo peaked out from behind his defenses to discover that Mr. Wright was... completely asleep.

And snoring. With his mouth open.

Okay...

Less terrified now, Apollo was able to take in more of the situation. Mr. Wright was out cold. The television was playing more of that kid's show from earlier, and it looked in the middle of an episode. Some funny-looking samurais in masks were yelling at each other. That would account for the voices he had heard. Mr. Edgeworth was also asleep, on top of Mr. Wright. Apollo didn't let his mind dwell on that fact for too long. His face was already red enough. Some of Mr. Edgeworth's clothes were slung on the back of a chair. In all, Apollo felt like he had just walked into something dirty.

On the other hand, Mr. Edgeworth and Mr. Wright didn't appear to have been doing anything bad, despite the number of layers Mr. Edgeworth had lost. Even Mr. Wright no longer had his beanie, much to Apollo's surprise, but Mr. Edgeworth just seemed too stuffy to ever loosen up. Or at least to loosen up around company, as he appeared to be plenty comfortable around Mr. Wright. It suddenly struck Apollo how strange the two men looked together. Mr. Edgeworth in his cravat and shirt entangled with Mr. Wright in his jacket and sweatpants. They made an... odd pair.

There was one piece tying to duo together, though. On Mr. Edgeworth's head was Mr. Wright's beanie. It looked funny paired with his whole formal ensemble, squashed over his neat hair. It wasn't even really on his head, just kind of sitting on top of it.

Apollo heard Trucy shuffling behind him. He turned around to look at her. She was smiling gently at the two men on the bed. She almost had a matronly look in her eye, like she had been planning this all along.

Sometimes Trucy looked too mature for her age.

"Come on, Polly. Let's go eat these in the lobby."

Apollo backed out of the room and shut the door as quietly as he could behind him.