A/N: I don't own Phoenix Wright, Miles Edgeworth, Gregory Edgeworth or Manfred von Karma; CAPCOM does. The plot, however, is mine. :^)
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Events have come to a head and Phoenix races to Miles' side, all the pain he caused him washed away to be replaced by genuine worry and concern. Can they iron things out? Phoenix is determined to try for he loves Miles...
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The final chapter! I hope that you have enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it! :^) Happy endings ROCK! :D

*The Stygian-in Stygian blackness-refers to the river Styx, in Greek mythology, by which the gods and goddesses swore oaths. In some versions Achilles' mother, the goddess Thetis, is said to have held her son by his ankle and dipped him in the river Styx, thereby making him immortal... except his heel, where she held him. The boat was piloted by Charon, the boatman who ferried the souls of the dead across the river to the Underworld.*

Thanks to all of my readers for your reading, reviewing, favouriting and alerting! I really appreciate it very much and I hope that you will continue to enjoy my stories!

Thank you to Midnight-hunter, my beta, for her enthusiastic support and critiquing! :) I appreciate it a bunch! :)

Extra Special thanks to my beloved husband, DezoPenguin, for his unfailing love, support, nagging (when necessary), for reigniting the desire to write within me and for helping me to stay grounded during the writing process so I don't end up tearing my hair out. Love you, babe!

I hope you enjoy it and, as always, comments and suggestions are appreciated and welcomed! :)

Rated T, Humor/Romance, Phoenix & Edgeworth
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Phoenix Wright & Miles Edgeworth Residence
Library
6 A.M.

I held Miles close to me, kneeling on the hardwood floor in front of the mahogany grandfather clock, watery sunlight flowing over the both of us as the sun rose. I could hear him babbling "Thank God!" over and over and, while I wasn't quite sure exactly why he was, it was a relief to me that he seemed to have gotten over his pique.

I let out the deep breath that I had been holding, relief spreading through me like a wildfire. Thank heaven for small favors!

I knew what Miles could be like when he lost his temper and, as last evening had so eloquently, and disastrously, proved, I was very glad that he wasn't angry anymore and that we could move on from here.

I held him for quite awhile, stroking his sweaty grey hair tenderly and whispering words of comfort into his ear, trying to soothe him and quell the violent shaking of his body. Miles never had the shakes that bad unless he was extremely upset and I hated to see him this way. He may have been a jerk the night before but I was also to blame for what had happened and all I cared about right now was soothing and calming him, letting him know in actions, rather than in mere words, that I loved him and that I would always be here for him.

I knew that he was scared that events had gone too far for us to be able to repair the damage done and I couldn't blame him for feeling that way. I was scared, too, just as much as he was but I had determined that I would at least try to make things right with Miles and had headed for the library. When I had heard him moaning and crying behind the closed doors in the library, I didn't think twice. I broke into a run, racing to his side without a second thought, practically breaking down the door in the process when I burst through it and ran to him, gathering him in my arms.

When he started to struggle and tried to break free from my grasp, I admit that my heart was in my throat until I realized that he was still in the throes of his daymare; I thought that, once he fully came out of it and recognized his surroundings that he would be all right.

Thankfully and to my great relief, I was not mistaken in my assumption and that's exactly what did happen a few minutes later; once Miles recognized the library in our home, he knew immediately who it was that was holding him and stopped struggling, his body going limp in my arms. I held him tightly to me, stroking his head and murmuring soft words of comfort into his ears, pressing my lips tenderly to his sweaty skin, trailing kisses in my wake.

My heart had nearly stopped when I burst in through the door to see him on his knees, his hands clapped tightly to the side of his head, his fingers digging into his hair with sorrowful keening pouring out of his mouth. All I could think of was rushing to his side to comfort him. I didn't care if he'd just chewed me out some hours earlier; I didn't care if he was still angry with me for my clumsiness; I didn't care that he'd thrown some pretty hurtful words at me that cut me to the heart; I didn't care that he was being unfair because he'd had a horribly bad day. Miles was in pain... and he needed me. That was all I cared about at this moment.

I propped my chin on the top of his head, my right hand tenderly stroking his face with my fingertips while my left arm was wrapped around his shoulders and holding him close. I could feel his frantic breathing start to slow once he'd come back to himself and I felt my own fear begin to drain away, flooding me with heartfelt relief.

I'm so glad that you're all right, Miles, I thought, closing my eyes and swallowing hard, I was so afraid that you'd reject me for being such a clumsy fool and, for one terrifying moment, I thought you had when you struggled briefly in my arms. My grip tightened on him, planting a solid kiss in the middle of his head, my right hand cupping the side of his face tenderly as if he were a fragile glass ornament. I wonder if von Karma was on his mind again; it usually happens whenever he's had a bad day is simply under stress, it doesn't matter from where. I could feel tears beginning to form in the corners of my eyes but I blinked them away impatiently. I could shed tears later; Miles needed me now and that was, by far, much more important to me. My poor love... what I wouldn't do to take this burden from you! I wish I could!

I don't know how long we knelt there on the hardwood floor; I could feel Miles move his head and I assumed that he'd gotten his eye level above the slope of my shoulder since his face was buried in my neck.

"What a beautiful sunrise," I heard him murmur and, once I had lifted my head and looked up at the watery rays of the early morning sunshine filtering through the window glass, I had to agree.

"Yes," I said softly, lifting my eyes to look out the window and then back down at him as he clung to me, "it is." I gently stroked the back of his head with my fingertips and closed my eyes once again, breathing in his scent, my lips curving upward in a smile as I did so.

After some moments of silence, Miles spoke, his voice thick with tears and regret.

"I'm... sorry."

"Hmmm?"

"I'm... I'm... sorry, Phoenix."

My eyebrow raised as I sat back and gently put him from me and looked at him, a confused expression on my face.

"For what?" I asked, puzzled. He had such a sad look on his face that my heart ached and I couldn't help but wonder what was going through his head as he said it.

"For … everything..." he said at last in a sorrowful voice, looking down at the floor.

What?!

I stared at him in disbelief.

"Miles-" I began but he cut me off, shaking his head sorrowfully, taking deep hitching breaths. I could feel his body trembling and I wondered what on earth was going through his head although, when I tried to ask, he kept cutting me off. After a few minutes of this, I was beginning to get annoyed, not to mention scared.

"Miles!" I snapped, my annoyance and fear coming through my voice while he stared at me, his white, drawn face shocked. His mouth worked but no sound emerged as I looked back at him. "Stop it! Just... stop it!"

I put my hands on his shoulders and looked right into his eyes. I'd had enough of this nonsense and I was determined to get to the bottom of what was bothering him and why he kept on interrupting me. I could see the sick fear that was plastered all over his face and, once again, it cut me to the heart. What on earth was going through his head as he sat there looking at me, his eyes wide with fear, his face a sickly, pasty white color and trembling like a leaf?

His lips trembled and he clutched me tightly to him; I could feel his body shaking violently with the depth of his anguished feelings and I held him tightly to me, wishing that I could take this burden away from him or at least have him open up to me about what was bothering him since obviously something was.

"Miles..." I whispered gently, not wanting to alarm him by raising my voice since he looked like he was ready to bolt at any moment; I could feel his muscles rippling underneath my hands and I knew that, if he succeeded in his endeavor to escape, he'd run and that was the last thing I wanted. He'd run from me three years before and I couldn't forget the hurt, the pain and the anguish I suffered for the next three years, believing him to be dead. I hadn't forgotten what I had felt then and I refused to let him run for a second time.

I set my jaw stubbornly as I held him, my grip like iron on him. He wouldn't be going anywhere without me and I wouldn't let him go. I knew that we could work things out; all we had to do was face the problem head on and work it through together. Neither of us would be alone.

You and me, Miles, I thought, closing my eyes once more and breathing in his dizzying scent, it's just you and me against the world... the way it should be. I love you and I know that you love me; together, we can face anything that comes our way and neither of us has to be alone to wrestle with his demons.

I gently put him from me, my hands like iron on his shoulders as I looked squarely at him. He looked so haunted that my heart ached for him and I wondered anew exactly what it was that was bothering him since I had a feeling that it was more than I had first thought. His garbled, strangled words had told me at least some of what I needed to know but I wanted him to tell me the rest himself.

You'll only be free if you tell me what's troubling you, Miles. I want to help you but I can't help you if you don't open up to me. I want more than anything to help shoulder your burdens because that is what people who are in love do; they're there for each other, no matter what. Let me help you and I'll prove to you that you can trust me, that you can trust what we have and that the love we share is real!

I sighed as I looked into those beautiful grey eyes swimming with unshed tears, my fingers tightening on his shoulders. My mouth trembled but I didn't know what to say to comfort him since my mind had gone utterly blank when faced with the terrible depths of Miles' despair; any word of comfort that I could have given him would have seemed paltry, indeed, when faced with the Stygian blackness confronting Miles.

It was the second time this morning that I felt helpless and I was tired of feeling that way. I had to help him but I couldn't even begin to until he opened the gate to himself and let me inside to confront the ugliness that was the residue of his younger, formative years that still haunted him all these years later. Once again I hoped that Manfred von Karma was burning in Hell for what he did to Miles and what he had tried to do three years earlier.

I couldn't believe the coldheartedness of the man and it never failed to amaze-or sicken-me the depth to which that man would have sunk in order to hang Miles and would never have thought twice about it. He would give all he had in order to avenge himself upon Miles' late father, Gregory Edgeworth. In a single stroke, not only did he deprive Miles of his beloved father but he also set in motion a hideous plan of revenge; I could only imagine, and that, thankfully rather dimly, of what life in Germany with von Karma must have been like when he was growing up. I couldn't help but shudder at the thought.

Damn him to the lowest hells! My fingers tightened on Miles' shoulder once again but loosened when he let out a gasp of pain and I realized that I was squeezing him much too tightly. Damn his perfect record and damn him! What he did wasn't worth the pain and suffering that Miles had to endure and, if he weren't already dead, I'd kill him!

I had to calm myself; I wasn't going to be any good to Miles unless I did. I took many deep, ragged breaths, trying to control the fury I could feel welling up inside of me and, after some minutes, I managed to calm down. I looked into Miles' pinched, unhappy face with compassion, my heart aching to see him like this.

The thought came, unbidden, into my mind. I wish I could take this all from him. I wish that I could make everything better and erase all those terrible memories but I can't... and I feel so damned helpless on the face of it. I sighed again with a mix of frustration and anguish, scrunching my eyes tightly shut. Miles, I wish you'd trust me a little... I can help but you have to give me a chance! I can't fix everything but I can listen and help you with your burden which I would do happily because I love you more than anyone else in the world!

"I-" Miles began again in a choked voice but I shook my head, trying to keep the tears I could feel welling up in the corners of my eyes from spilling down my cheeks. I felt awful about the whole rotten situation and the knowledge that I had contributed to his unhappiness, even if I wasn't fully to blame for what had happened, stuck in my craw like nothing else did.

"No... you don't need to say anything; you have nothing to feel sorry for or apologize for. I was being as much an idiot when I unthinkingly trashed any peace of mind you may have been seeking and I am sorry for that."

Miles shook his head stubbornly.

"No, you don't understand," he began, his voice starting to crack with overwrought emotion as he struggled to break free of my grasp, the expression on his tear-stained face desperate and pleading, "I was wrong! I was wrong to say what I did, Phoenix, and the knowledge that I hurt you tears at me like nothing else does!" He lowered his head as his shoulders began to shake and I could see tears beginning to trickle down his face in steady streams. "I'm so sorry... I didn't mean what I said..."

My fingers let his shoulder go, my hand sliding over his shoulders and down his back, gathering him in a warm embrace and drawing him closer to me, cradling his head on my shoulder. I could feel his face burying into my neck, felt the wet trails of tears on his face, felt his arms quiver like a taut harp string as they wrapped around me in return, felt his hands grab handfuls of fabric and close into fists, trembling with unhappiness and emotion.

"I know," I whispered soothingly, my hands making wide, slow circles on his back, "I know. I don't hold it against you, Miles; I know you didn't mean it and that it was only the anger, and not you, personally, talking." I closed my eyes, nuzzling the side of his head tenderly with the tip of my nose.

"I'm so sorry, Phoenix," he whispered brokenly and I wondered if he had heard me, "I'm so very, very sorry..."

"I know." I was amazed at how calm I felt when I was a maelstrom of roiling turmoil on the inside. "There's no need to apologize."

He shook his head again. "No... I'm also sorry that... I'm not... perfect..."

Not. Perfect. The words crashed through my consciousness like a jackhammer and I started, my eyes flying open and staring in shock at the wall behind Miles' head, my limbs beginning to tremble and my stomach churn.

"What does that matter?" I returned harshly, my voice so choked that I could barely get the words out without considerable effort. "I don't care if you aren't perfect, Miles; that's never been something I've ever sought!"

"How could you ever love someone like me?" he continued, his voice cracking with the strain of his emotional melt down. "I'm not perfect; how could you love me? How can you stand even being around me?" He clung to me. "After all I've done and what I may have done had you not saved me, how can you still... love... me?"

I felt that familiar feeling of helplessness rush through me like a hurricane and, try as I might, I couldn't fight off the newest onslaught completely and it scored me with a wound that was deep and painful.

How could I get through to him? I thought in despair, my arms holding him so close to me it seemed as if we were one person instead of two. How can I convince him that perfection doesn't matter to me and that only Miles does?

Von Karma's gloating face appeared in the back of my mind and I felt disgust pour more salt on already raw and painful psychic wounds, Miles trembling so violently in my embrace that I was afraid that he would try to break free and run. In whatever else he tried to do and failed, von Karma had been overwhelmingly successful in messing up Miles so badly emotionally it was a wonder that he ever broke free of his malign influence at all.

Bastard. I set out at once to try and soothe him again, ignoring my own pain as I sought to ease his, whispering gentle words of comfort, assuring him of my love. He's been dead for over three years and that bloody bastard is still living in both of our collective memories.

I could hear the apparition muttering nonsense in my ear and I did my level best to ignore it. I don't care what von Karma thinks, my sweet love; I don't trust perfection and I certainly don't want some mindless automaton! I pressed my head closer to his. What I do want is Miles in all of his imperfect glory, in all of his beautiful, sweet and flawed humanity. I don't want perfection; I want him. I love who he is, not what he could be. So who cares if he isn't perfect? Big deal! How can I convince him of this?

I could feel Miles shift slightly to the left and I squeezed my arms shut quickly, before he'd had a chance to bolt. I knew that he had been preparing to run, and the dirty look I could see him giving me out of the corner of my eye confirmed my suspicions. There was no way I was going to let that happen a second time. He'd run three years earlier and I'd be damned if I was going to allow that to happen again.

Not this time, Miles, I thought grimly, not this time.

I heard Miles' strangled voice ask, "Why?" and I knew immediately, without having to ask, what it was that he was referring to. I could feel his fingers tighten once again and I winced a little as he grabbed skin underneath the fabric though I did my best not to let on.

"Because I love you, Miles," I said simply, pulling back a little and cupping the side of his face in my hand, my thumb tenderly stroking his tear-stained face, "and I really couldn't care less if you're not perfect; I love you as you are."

Miles was silent for a moment.

"How-how... could you... love... me...? How...how...could... anyone?!"

I kissed the top of his head tenderly, sliding down to sit against the front of the mahogany grandfather clock, pulling Miles down with me. I settled him in comfortably beside me and cradled him against my chest, my fingertips stroking the top of his head absentmindedly.

"I don't trust perfection, Miles; I never have. " I put him gently back from me, my fingertips cupping underneath his chin and pulling them up so that his scared eyes met my blue ones, my mouth creasing into a soft smile. "I love you for who you are, good and bad, not for who you could be or think you should be. Your 'flaws' appeal to me; you're a human being, Miles, and sometimes humans make mistakes but they ultimately learn from them." I smiled at him, tucking a piece of gray hair over his ear. "It's not something to be ashamed of; everybody has their off days now and again. You just have to accept it, make amends when and where you can and then move on."

Miles looked at me, a stunned expression on his face.

"But-" he started to say but I cut him off ruthlessly by pressing my mouth hard against his, effectively silencing him. I could feel him shiver, his mouth trembling uncertainly underneath my own but I refused to pull away, deepening the kiss when I felt him try to pull back.

I did this for the next twenty minutes and, I must say, that I was indeed enjoying myself and Miles, though initially not happy about it-he hated to be interrupted when he was trying to talk-did as well after awhile. I could feel him responding eagerly as he melted into my arms and my heart soared as he did so.

Finally.... finally, I'm getting through to him!

After we had parted-rather reluctantly-I could see that the expression on his face was one of quiet wonder and of understanding.

"Do you understand now why I love you?" I whispered, kissing his mouth again tenderly, my thumbs gently caressing his cheeks.

Miles nodded.

I smiled. "Good."

I could see the ghost of a smile form on his face as he snuggled closer to me as we settled in for the next while in each other's arms.

You may not be a knight in shining armor, Miles, but you'll always be the one I love...

An image of Miles in grey and dented armor rose in my mind and I chuckled. Miles looked curiously up at me and I shook my head, promising to tell him about it later. He looked slightly confused but nevertheless clung to me as we sat there, watching the sun rise.