The initial draft of this LITERALLY made me have a panic attack. XD
A paragraph got cut because of it, but fortunately, it was quite crappy and pretentious anyway. Trying to sort of... emulate a panic attack and apparently, went a little too far into my own head with it.
Yes, Doctor Stiles is THAT Doctor Stiles. Even though that Doctor Stiles is a surgeon and not a GP or psychologist. I DON'T CARE.
I illustrated the sexy apron. :P If you're curious. .com/art/Bikini-Babe-Edgeworth-121622159 Enjoy.
Ace Attorney characters belong to Capcom, Doctor Stiles belongs to... ummm... Rising Star games, was it? Well, whoever did Trauma Center.
I own... ummm... the writing. I guess. And I think I own the nurse... SWEET. Might be Angie though... well, crap, I don't know.
Furious. Absolutely furious.
Miles couldn't tolerate himself. His weakness. To allow himself to get in that state. Over a person. Over him. Why him? Maybe he wasn't the problem. Miles was his own problem.
He ran away from life. Then hoped nothing would change. Everything changed. It was his fault. Entirely his fault.
He hated himself. Loathed himself. Wanted to punish himself. He deserved it.
He grabbed a vase. Smashed it against a wall. Picked up a shard. Clenched his fist.
Watched the blood drip. As if he couldn't sink any lower. He felt weak. He fainted.
He woke up to find himself lying on the couch, with that girl looking down at him.
"Huh...?"
"I'd forgotten my purse so I ran back and there you were," she explained, "Looks like you broke a vase too."
He glanced around the room. The vase was spread in pieces across the floor. He slowly raised his hand to find he was still gripping the shard.
"Oh my gosh!" she gasped, "You're bleeding!"
He stared at it for a moment then looked back at the floor to see that he had left a trail.
"How in the heck did I miss that? I'm usually pretty perceptive!" she sighed, "Well, I better get something to clean that up with. Back in a sec!"
He dropped the piece and noticed that Trucy had dropped a card. He picked it up and read out the name.
Wright & Co. Talent Agency
He choked out a dry sob then held his head in his hands.
Trucy came back and gasped at the sight of blood trickling down Miles' face.
"Edgie!" she shrieked, running to check him over. She swept his hair back and checked his face for cuts.
"Thank god..." she sighed, "What happened here anyway? I'm sure I was only gone about twenty minutes."
"I... was thinking..." he mumbled, quite dazed.
"Thinking pretty hard apparently."
Miles couldn't help but snort over that.
"Miles Edgeworth! Did you just laugh?!?!"
He shook his head quite pathetically.
"Oh mom!" she laughed, "You really are an enigma, wrapped in a mystery, sealed with a cravat!"
"Mom...?"
"Shush now," she sighed, pouring some antiseptic onto a cloth. She took hold of his hand. "Don't panic but this might hurt a little."
He cried out before the cloth even touched him.
"Mom, what's wrong?!?!"
He started muttering something.
She listened closely and heard that he was just muttering the same thing continuously: Phoenix.
Trucy was terribly worried. She made a couple of phone calls and before long, Miles found himself in a bed in a private hospital room. Obviously, he was in no way happy about this.
"This is so unnecessary..." he huffed.
"I don't think so," Trucy shrugged. She watched the door expectantly.
It opened dramatically.
"Trucy, are you okay?!?! I ran here as soon as you said you were here!!!"
"I'm fine but-"
"GET OUT!!!" Miles screamed.
"Oh, it's-"
"FUCK OFF!!!"
Phoenix sighed and scratched at his god-awful hat.
"Mom, I called Dad to tell him where I was," Trucy tried explaining to Miles, "I guess he must've thought it was me in trouble."
"You were reading my mind, Truce!"
"Get. The fuck. Away. From. Me."
"Maybe we should get his doctor in here," Phoenix sighed, "Sounds like someone could do with a valium."
"Daddy, what's valium for?"
"It's kind of a sedative," he shrugged, "What's his doctors name?"
"Doctor Stiles, I think," Trucy replied, checking the chart on the end of the bed, "Yeah, Doctor Stiles."
Phoenix shrugged and left to find the doctor.
"Mom, get back in bed!" Trucy shrieked as Miles jumped out of bed.
"You planned all this, you little brat!!!" he shouted.
"Planned?!?! Why would I plan for you to go completely schizo?!?!"
"How did you expect me to be?!?!"
"Ah, Mr Edgeworth, please lie down," the bespectacled young doctor ordered, standing next to Phoenix in the doorway.
"And don't shout at my daughter ever again..." Phoenix growled.
"I... I..." Miles huffed, clenching his fists.
"Please... Miles," the doctor sighed, looking at the chart. Still holding it, he forced Miles down onto the bed. "Let's see... he fell unconscious. A fairly deep set of cuts to his right hand. Presumably self-inflicted. Confused state of mind. Signs of suicidal thinking."
Miles simply sneered.
"For the moment, we'd like to keep you here for observation," the doctor continued, "Also, we'll start you on 100mg of fluoxetine but as it can cause pretty serious feelings of anxiety, especially in the first few weeks of taking it, I'm also going to give you a couple of 10mg doses of diazepam."
"Yes, tie me down and dope me up!" he smirked.
"Now, Mr Edgeworth!"
"Why not ask me what I want?!?!"
"What do you want?" the doctor asked, pushing his glasses up to the bridge of his nose.
Miles inadvertently shot his gaze at Phoenix, who appeared to be staring blankly out the window.
He grew silent and still.
"I'll go get the papers for your prescription," the doctor sighed, leaving the room.
"And I'll go get everyone some cola!" Trucy added, following him.
Miles Edgeworth and Phoenix Wright were left alone.
"Fuck..." Miles sighed, holding his head in his newly-bandaged hand.
Phoenix continued staring stoically out the window.
Miles wasn't sure whether he'd been paying attention to anything in the room.
"What happened to you, Miles?"
Miles simply gasped, shocked that Phoenix was even slightly aware of what was going on.
"Self-inflicted? Suicidal thinking?" he quoted softly.
Slowly, he walked over to stand right at the man's bed side.
"I was thinking..." he mumbled.
"Suicidally?"
"No!" he gasped, "I was thinking about the past... do you remember the first time?"
"That's a song, isn't it?" he sighed, staring out the window again.
"I don't know, Wright, maybe..." he muttered, blushing slightly, "But I'm being serious... do you remember?"
Phoenix carried on staring out the window.
"Wright!"
"I can't believe you really didn't expect to shoot your load in my mouth!"
At this point, Trucy and the doctor had walked in.
"Daddy, is he raping you this time?"
Miles and Phoenix found themselves laughing.
"I... I don't really understand what's going on, but I'm relieved to see you've calmed down a little," the doctor frowned, more than a little baffled.
"I'm not anywhere near as bad as the chart said," Miles smiled at the doctor, "I didn't go unconscious as such, I just fainted. And I'm not suicidal. I was just a little lost in nostalgia! I'm fine!"
"Even with that being the case..." he sighed, adjusting his glasses once again, "Depression is never very predictable and the fact that your mood has reversed so drastically in a matter of minutes... well, it isn't necessarily a good sign."
Miles sighed, feeling like a complete failure.
"Well, I'll leave you alone with your family for a little while."
"They're not-" Miles tried to argue. The doctor had left the room before he could finish.
Miles closed his eyes. He'd just been diagnosed with, what might as well have been, insanity. Pretending to be asleep was acceptable. He remembered a witness who'd done the same once. As irrational as he was being made to feel, he still had enough control to know that remembering that man, and the cases involved with him, was not good for his emotional state.
"You always looked so beautiful when you were asleep," Phoenix said quietly.
"Did I not tell you to fuck off, Wright?" he growled.
"I'm sorry, but... well..." he sighed, "I still the same about you as I did before."
"You know how I feel about feelings..." he hissed, opening his eyes and shooting a piercing gaze at him.
"Cola?" Trucy piped up.
"Thanks, kiddo!" Phoenix smiled, accepting a can from her.
"Thank you, but I don't feel thirsty."
"Okay then, Mom..." she sighed, sipping at her own cola.
They stayed silent until the doctor returned to tell them they'd have to leave. They tried triggering some kind of emotional response as they said goodbye. They failed. He just yawned and started looking boredly at his fingernails.
"Prick..." he heard Phoenix mumble on his way out.
Sometime later, a pretty young nurse came in, wheeling a trolley.
"Mr... Miles Edgeworth, was it?" she asked, checking the clipboard at the end of the bed.
"That's right," he nodded, "How did you get roped into doping up the mentally infirm?"
"It's my job! I'm glad to do it," she blushed, "Well, it says here that you're having fluoxetine and diazepam."
"Thus the absolute cynicism regarding everything..." he smirked.
She tried to laugh but couldn't quite manage it.
"Anyway, he sighed.
"Oh yes..." she blushed, picking up a couple of plastic cups. She handed them over. One was full of water, the other had two small green and yellow capsules and a little white pill.
He sighed and took a gulp of water, tipped his head back slightly and took the capsules and swallowed it all.
The nurse came at him with a tongue depressor.
"Ungh!" he protested as she prodded it around his mouth.
"Sorry, sir," she apologised, "Just need to make sure that you have actually swallowed."
He inadvertently sniggered.
"It's about ten o'clock," she sighed, feeling quite uncomfortable, "You should probably get some sleep."
"I suppose so," he yawned, "Sorry to have troubled you."
She nodded and wheeled the trolley along as she turned out the light and closed the door behind her.
The medication didn't seem to be doing anything. Negative or positive. Not that he'd expected it to.
He woke up feeling groggy. He ached and he wasn't completely sure what was going on.
"Have a good night?"
"Huh..." he tried to focus. Phoenix was sat in a chair next to his bed.
"Oh god, it's you..."
"Hi!" he laughed, giving a sarcastic wave.
"You know that your daughter's well, so why are you here?"
"I wanted to make sure that her mom's okay!"
"Wright. I am not that girl's mother."
"Okay, but I just-"
He was interrupted by the mobile phone in Miles' breast pocket.
"As much as I'd love to listen to your ill-thought dribble, this might be someone who matters."
He pulled it out and flipped it open.
"Miles Edgeworth speaking."
"Ah, Herr Edgeworth!"Uber-fop replied.
"Mr Gavin."
"I am sorry to hear about your hospitalisation."
"Shit, how did you hear about it?"
"My darling Forehead told me."
Why was he talking about his forehead again?
"Well, I understand that I was a bit stubborn. I've just started a new case and I would be so happy to have you work with me!"
"Work with you or your cock?" he huffed.
Phoenix looked more than a little shocked.
"Herr Edgeworth... I really think you need to get laid," Klavier laughed, "And I'm afraid that I'm not the one to give you that pleasure! Anyway... I would like you to aid me in court. I will split my fee with you but your position will be below me... and not in that way."
"I get it, Gavin, I don't want to sleep with you anyway!"
Phoenix started coughing nervously.
"Well, that's... good. Anyway... I'd like you to work with me on the case, much like meine kleine defence attorney and the mädchen he has assisting him."
He thought back to Maya Fey who used to work with Phoenix. She'd gone to take over as head of the Fey clan. Joining that cult sounded almost more dignified than working under Klavier Gavin.
"May I think about it?" he asked.
"Of course, Herr Edgeworth. I wish you farewell and a speedy recovery!"
Miles snapped the phone shut and put it back in his pocket.
He saw Phoenix staring with his mouth wide open.
"Shut up, Wright."
"Anyway..." Phoenix sighed after an embarrassed silence, "I had a chat with the doctor and he said he's happy for you to leave later today."
"Oh, that's fantastic!" he beamed.
"On one condition," he added.
"Wright, why did you have to say that now?" he barked, "You really are king of the anti-climax!"
"Well, you would've had to find out in a minute anyway," he shrugged.
"Fine. Well, what is this condition?"
"They're happy for you to leave the clinic but you'd need to stay with someone who can look after you."
"Well, that's fine. There's Ms Waterhouse."
"Um..." he sighed, scratching at that, presumably flea-infected, hat again. "They contacted her and... well, they don't think she's quite up to the job."
"Where am I supposed to go then?!?!" he shouted.
"Well..."
"Phoenix, if that face means what I think it means, I will take that repugnant rag off your head and shove it down your throat!"
"Don't worry, I'll sleep on the couch!"
"Fuck you, Wright!" he hissed with utmost venom, "I'd rather stay here!"
"I told them you'd say that..." he sighed, "And um... yeah, if you stay here, you'll be put on the ward. And apparently, 'Doctor Hickfield' is quite into giving enemas at the moment."
Past the currently open door, a rather ugly man with tufty pink hair waved and winked, then shuffled away giggling.
Phoenix smirked.
"You're such an unbearable ass..."
"There's a little corner store right near our place," Phoenix announced once Miles had been discharged.
It was a little after lunch time. They were outside the hospital. Miles was pissed off.
"We can get you a toothbrush. I know you're a bit fussy, so we can get you your own soap as well."
"Shut up, Wright!"
"I won't shut up, I'm trying to help you," he sighed, starting to walk.
"I didn't ask for your help. You simply thrust it upon me."
Phoenix sniggered.
"Do grow up, you imbecile!"
As they stepped into Phoenix's apartment, Miles was certain that it had gotten even more filthy and uninhabitable.
"Ugh!" he cringed.
"I'll show you to my room," Phoenix announced. He seemed unfazed by the responding look of abject horror.
"Perhaps not," he growled.
"Fine, when Trucy gets home, she can show you then," he sighed.
Miles didn't find this idea much more comforting.
"Well, she's at school and Polly's in court," Phoenix shrugged, "So, it's just us..."
"Keep away from me," he hissed, "And who's Polly? Another deranged orphan you've taken in?"
"Pretty much."
Miles sighed and started pacing around the room.
This was not an ideal situation for Miles. He was being made to live in a shit hole with the man he wanted to hate, whom also happened to be the man he hated to want. Unfortunately, he wanted him more than he hated him. It made trying to throttle him at any given moment quite problematic.
"We could just watch TV," Phoenix suggested, throwing himself onto the couch.
"Huh."
"Yeah, they let non-royalty own TV's now."
"I know that," he huffed, sitting next to his 'friend'.
Phoenix held up the remote and flicked around the channels.
"What do you wanna watch?"
"I don't care, to be honest," he growled, getting back up and pacing around like a caged tiger. "Where are the cleaning supplies?"
"Huh?" Phoenix mumbled, looking quite gormless. "They're probably under the sink."
"Probably?"
Phoenix simply ignored him and watched cartoons.
"God, you're unbearable and a dick," he hissed. He knelt down by the kitchenette sink, opened the cupboard to find a small selection of cleaning supplies, all caked in dust. "Jesus Christ.. would you happen to have any gloves or an apron? Or would they be luxuries to you?"
He looked as though he was thinking about it.
"I have got an apron."
"Fantastic..." he sighed, "Will you get it for me?"
He carried on staring at the tv for a moment then sighed and got up. He lazily shuffled out of the room then came back a few minutes later, carrying a folded-up plastic apron. He unfurled it as if it were a national flag. It most certainly was not. In fact, it was printed to look like the wearer was a 'bikini babe'.
"I can't bloody believe you!!!" Miles screamed.
"Maya bought it as a joke birthday present once!" he laughed.
"I'll use it," Miles growled, snatching it, "But I hold no responsibility over anything that may occur to it."
"I think I had a dream like this," Phoenix sniggered as Miles put on the apron. "You were wearing that but no-"
"Shut up!!!"
Miles took it upon himself to make the apartment slightly more habitable.
He scrubbed and scoured, binned things and made sure everything was parallel to the wall.
Meanwhile, Phoenix carried on watching cartoons, only looking away every so often to ogle at the cleaning process, his hand gradually sneaking down the front of his trousers.
"Where would I find the vacuum cleaner?" Miles asked after a while of cleaning. He angrily dropped the feather duster and folded his arms when he saw that Phoenix had been jerking off for however long.
Phoenix zoned back into reality, noticed the extent of his social faux pas and moved his hand where it could be seen.
"We're in between vacuums right now," he replied, as if nothing had happened, "Trucy's hamster clogged our last one up pretty bad."
"You are filth!" he barked, throwing down the apron then running into the room where Phoenix had got it from. It was quite clearly his bedroom judging by the abundance of dirty socks and the considerable lack of taste. He was also fairly certain that there was food in the bed.
He gave up and sat on the bed gingerly.
Phoenix sauntered into the room. "I'm sorry," he mumbled, staring at his feet. "I just couldn't help it, seeing you like that..."
"Try to help it as you're never laying your hands on me again," he said with a stern look.
Phoenix sighed and left the room.
Why is the whole world sex mad? Miles thought to himself, lying down and folding his arms beneath his head. Not that I'm one to talk considering recent habits and events.
He looked around the room again. It wasn't too dissimilar to the bedroom in Phoenix's old flat. He noticed a "gallery" of photographs on the wall. There was a large photo of Phoenix, Trucy and a weird looking person with a couple of dykey hair spikes, whom he assume to be Polly. There were quite a few photos of Trucy, the Fey sisters and even that Ema girl. And there were a few of men. Most of them, he didn't know. One looked remarkably similar to Klavier Gavin, he must've been that brother Trucy mentioned. Then finally, one last photo caught his attention. Phoenix clinging protectively to another young man. They were staring into each others eyes with expressions of absolute bliss. The man Phoenix was looking at so adoringly was... Miles Edgeworth.
He pulled the photo off the wall and stared at it.
Miles and Phoenix were on a weekend break in Hawaii. Phoenix had been saving up for it as a special way of paying him back for all the fancy dinners he'd bought him. They were on an empty beach, watching the sun set. It was bliss.
As the warm red light leaked away into a pale blue glow, they kissed passionately. Miles let himself fall back and pulled Phoenix down on top of him. They rolled around in the soft white sand, made love against the gentle lapping waves and never once let go of each other. It felt as though they were the only two people in the world.
In the morning, they went back to their hotel, had their photo taken by another gay couple they'd met then spent the rest of the day in bed.
His head was in his hands again.
"That photo came out pretty well, didn't it?"
He dropped the photo and snapped round to look at Phoenix.
"Five minutes after that photo was taken, we went to our hotel and just held each other for several hours."
"Shut up, Wright," Miles blushed, pinning the photo back on the wall.
"It was only a month or so later that you got away," he carried on, staring at the photo all the while.
Miles felt a little bit guilty and embarrassed.
"Still, at least I can tell people I've had sex on the beach without starting a gay-assed conversation about cocktails," Phoenix shrugged, leaving the room yet again.
Miles wanted to chase after him and either hit him or make mad passionate love to him. As he couldn't quite choose, he decided to take a nap instead.
"Snack time!" someone announced.
Miles struggled to open his eyes then rubbed them so he could see who was there.
Trucy loomed above him with a tray.
"Got you some dinner, a pot of tea and your crazy pills!"
"Thank you, Trucy," he smiled, sitting up and taking the tray.
"If you take your meds now, then I'll leave you alone!"
He sighed and took them with a cup of tea.
When he'd finished gulping, she prodded around his mouth with a pencil.
"What was that for?!?!" he barked indignantly once she'd removed it.
"Well, nurses would use one of those lollypop sticks," she shrugged, "The only ones we have still have lollies on them. Didn't think you'd like that."
"That's not what I... never mind," he growled.
"Well, me and Daddy are watching 'Samurai Idol' if you want to join us!" she invited.
"I'd rather not. Thank you," he replied bluntly.
"Your loss," she sighed, skipping out of the room.
He sighed and ate his dinner. Once finished, he decided that he needed a bath. He got up and strode into the living room/kitchenette.
"Where's the bathroom?" he asked quietly.
"Just through that door," Phoenix replied, pointing with little energy or enthusiasm.
"Thanks," he mumbled.
"The towels are in the cupboard under the sink," he added, "And you can borrow a t-shirt and some shorts to sleep in if you want."
Miles sighed then wondered into the bathroom. Much to his dismay, the bathroom was tiny and quite filthy. There was also no bath, only a toilet, a sink and a shower. He sighed once again, made use of the facilities then went back to the bedroom.
I'm not sure I can survive here... he thought, looking at his watch. It was only nine o' clock but it felt much later.
After closing the curtains, turning the bedside lamp on and the main light off, he grabbed his trusty mobile and dialled.
"Briiiiiip.... briiiip, Sergeant Gumshoe here!"
"Gumshoe, can I come stay with you?"
"What? Pal, it's good to hear from ya, but I'm afraid that, what with the kids 'n' all..."
"Dick-" Miles started.
"Hey, I'm sorry, pal, but that's no reason for profanities!"
Miles tutted then carried on, "Dick is your name, you ignoramus!"
"Oh yeah... sorry sir, just kind replaced it with Sergeant an' Dad!" Gumshoe laughed, "So, why'd you ask anyway, pal?"
"I just need to stay with people at the moment... doctors orders."
"Huh?"
"Did no one tell you about my... hospital visit?" he asked, a little surprised that the gossip hadn't reached someone.
"Hospital?!?!"
"Nothing to worry about, just a little misunderstanding."
"How can a misunderstanding put you in hospital?!?!"
"I was curled up on the floor and my hand was bleeding, Phoenix's girl thought... well, she thought. Nothing more to it."
"Did you try to..." he asked quietly.
"I've already said no. So, can I stay?"
"I'm really sorry, pal, but with the kids... and, no offence, but if you're ill and all... you understand, right?"
"Yes, I suppose..."
"Where are you staying now?"
"Wright..." he replied bitterly.
"Phoenix? You mean you two are-"
"No. This is essentially a kidnap situation. His flat is an absolute shithole, his daughter's deranged and as for him? He's a complete scumbag and I hate him!!!"
"Whoah there, sir!" Gumshoe barked, "Shouldn't you be a little more grateful that he took you in?"
"Grateful? It's all his fault anyway! He makes me sick!"
"Don't you think he should be the one who's upset?"
"Oh please! All of Phoenix's emotions are in his boxer shorts! He repulses me!" he barked. He heard the door open, "Got to go, bye," he mumbled, shutting the phone and hiding it under the pillow.
Phoenix walked through the door. Miles had no idea if he could've heard any of the conversation.
"Just need to change into my pyjamas," he said, striding over to the cupboard. "Hope you don't mind."
"That's..." he mumbled. Before he could finish, Phoenix had started taking his clothes off. "Fine!"
Miles turned away. His curiosity and hidden longing kept biting at him, so he couldn't help but peek. So far, he'd removed his jacket and shirt. His once slightly chubby stomach had become toned. Miles gasped.
"I took up kickboxing lessons," Phoenix told him, apparently fully aware that he had an audience, "It's great exercise."
"Oh really?" Miles squeaked as Phoenix kicked off his jeans.
"Yeah. Maybe I'll take you some time."
"Yes yes, I'd like that!"
"Hm..." off came the boxers and Miles couldn't help but stare. He'd always loved Phoenix's posterior. It was magnificent. He used to have a private nickname for him because of it. Phoenix Wright was the "Ass Attorney" and in return, Miles Edgeworth was the...
"Penis Prosecutor!" Miles found himself proclaiming as Phoenix turned around to look at him, "Wright, I... love of god, pyjamas!"
Phoenix shrugged then slowly put his pyjamas on.
"Goodnight," he said coldly as he left the room. Perhaps he had heard the conversation.
