Oh, God. Can I tell you a secret? This chapter has been completely re-written about four times now, and I'm still not satisfied. At this point, I have other stories on the brain-- HUMOROUS ones. And I can pretty much guarantee they won't be as cheesy as this story has turned out to be.

The way this chapter turned out kind of reminds me of Yesterday... but I guess that this story IS Yesterday's prequel, and there are bound to be parallels between the two... well. Anyway. Franziska is BAD!

Suggestions on how to improve my writing are MUCH appreciated. Thanks for sticking with me!


When the secretary at the front desk instructed me to do so, I forced myself to enter Franziska's office. An uncomfortable silence followed me as I closed the door and took a seat in one of the leather chairs, listening to the sound of silence buzzing in my ear. The lights were off; the venetian blinds covering the windows cast a dim, striped glow over the entire room.

I'd just stepped into the boss's office.

The files that Gumshoe and I had thrown all over the floor the night before were now back to where they came from-- hidden inside Franziska's drawers, presumably. There wasn't a piece of incriminating evidence on the floor to be found.

I waited for Franziska to show up for quite some time-- after what seemed like an eternity, I heard someone knocking at the door. I didn't answer, figuring the person was just knocking out of courtesy before they barged in.

Then they knocked again-- this time, practically knocking the door down with their pounding fist.

Is the door locked or something?

I couldn't help but be a little anxious as I stood up and shuffled over to the door. I waited for a moment with my hand on the doorknob, a solemn expression taking over my face. Franziska was probably on the other side, waiting to handcuff me... I had to show her I wasn't going to go down without a fight.

I opened the door, my face stone cold.

"Hello?"

There wasn't anyone outside.

I peeked my head outside the doorway, glancing left and right, but the only person I saw in the entire place was the receptionist in the lobby.

Seeing that the coast was clear, I turned around to go back to where I was sitting, leaving the office door open.

I exhaled.

On cue, someone called out from behind me, "Where do you think you're going, Phoenix Wright?"

I froze.

And before I knew it,

WHAM!

I stumbled-- someone suddenly struck the back of my head with what seemed like a baseball bat -- and I was knocked to the ground, my face hitting the wood flooring like a ton of bricks.

What the HELL--!?

I didn't have time to defend myself-- I could barely comprehend what was going on from second to second. Someone hit me, I fell down, and the room started spinning...

"Finish him off!"

Someone jumped on top of me, their weight crushing my ribcage-- I craned my neck to see who it could possibly be, but I only caught a glimpse of a man's face before he wrung my neck in the opposite direction, practically snapping a vertebrae as he ground my nose into the floor.

I tried to free myself, elbowing and shoving the man off of me with as much force as I could-- but it was no use.

"What... the hell is... going on!?" I choked inbetween flailing punches, attempting to escape from under the mysterious man crushing me. "Franziska!?"

"Quiet!" I heard a voice --her voice-- barking orders from across the room. "What are you doing!? Take him out!"

NO!

I pumped my fist into the air, hoping to hit someone, but my punch was stopped short as the man grabbed my wrist. He clenched it in his giant hands, snapping at least one bone, before I could even touch his face.

"Handcuff him!"

"I'm innocent-- UGH!"

I coughed, trying not to let my lungs collapse as another man landed on me, digging my shoulders into the floor. I finally stopped trying to fight back as two enormous hands wrap around my arms, while two others handcuffed me. I opened my eyes, which were pinched shut before, and saw a tiny puddle of blood forming on the carpet below my nose...

Did I really hit the ground that hard? I can't remember what happened only seconds ago...

"What the hell--!?" I repeated myself. "What... What are you trying to do to me!?"

"Isn't it obvious? What do you think happened to your friend, Miles Edgeworth?"

I glanced around-- Franziska Von Karma's black ankle-high boots stood directly in front of my face.

"You-- you killed him!?" I shouted, panicking. "You can't kill me!"

This can't be the end--!

"Boys, let's finish Mr. Phoenix Wright off!"

Out of nowhere, one of the men grabbed my face, slapping a thick strip of duct tape over my mouth.

I looked down again, at the few drops of blood that had escaped from my nose, at Franziska's boots. My lower lip was throbbing, my neck felt broken in three different places...

There was only a moment in between trying to breathe and my face being slammed into the ground--

WHAM!

Someone struck the back of my head again, despite my quaking body and the look of distress on my face that clearly showed my surrender. I opened my eyes to find that the red puddle underneath me had grown slightly larger-- and I shut my eyes quickly, cringing.

I can't die yet...

I went limp. I was going to die. I held my breath, waiting to see bright lights...

"... Are you finished, yet?" Franziska whispered.

"... Looks like it."

After a moment, I felt a weight lifted from my shoulders.

I waited to be hit again, but nothing happened. The men had released me... I could breathe. Of course, I didn't.

My entire body throbbed; I kept my eyes shut so I wouldn't have to see what was really happening to me. The room was silent, and I dared not make a sound.

What just happened?

"Poor Phoenix Wright. I guess he never learned to play dead, after all."

SHIT!

As I gasped, someone kicked me in the stomach with so much force that I flipped onto my back.

I cowered in fear, coughing for air, opening my eyes to see three shadows looming above me.

Two of them, I couldn't make out. The men-- they were heavyweights, masked in black. One of them held a shining crowbar.

My God...

The other shadow, with its faintly blue hair and girlish silhouette, was none other than Franziska Von Karma.

I couldn't move. I couldn't open my mouth to speak, either-- it'd been sealed shut. I let a tiny cry escape my mouth, but it was muffled by tape.

Franziska leaned over me, her face dangling above mine, as she whispered with contempt, "You're finished, Phoenix Wright."

WHAM!

...

...

When I came to, I was sitting upright.

I was trapped in a dark, confined space, surrounded by dust and thin air. I kicked my feet and felt a door directly in front of me-- if only I had the hands to open it.

I tried to take a deep breath, but was stopped by the layer of duct tape that surrounded my mouth. When I tried to breathe through my nose, a wad of tissue paper stuck up each nostril blocked almost all air from entering into my lungs. I coughed uncontrollably, and when I couldn't cough anymore because I'd run out of air, I panicked.

How was it that I could breathe while I was unconscious!?

I looked down-- I was taped to Franziska's leather office chair. The handcuffed arms behind my back could not move an inch; my entire chest was wrapped in duct tape.

I am going to die. I am going to die. I am going to--

Franziska appeared from out of the darkness, opening the door, and ripping the tissue paper out of my nose a second before I ran out of air. As I gasped, she commented, "You practically ruined my floor. You will be paying for that..."

I took another deep breath. I was afraid to blink.

Rolling her eyes, Franziska said, "I think it's time you found out what will be happening today."

A shiver went up my spine. I could only imagine.

A man's shadowy face appeared from the darkness as well-- he grabbed the chair I was in, swiveling it into familiar territory-- Franziska's office. I must've been in the closet.

"Fools!" Franziska exploded to the men, slamming her closet door behind me suddenly. The masked men walked out of the room, closing the door behind them. Franziska panted for a few seconds, as her anger still hung in the air. There was something frighteningly insane about the look in her eyes as she walked in front of me...

"...Mmph?" I mumbled almost inaudibly.

She started again with a smug grin, "Perfection has its price... and you're going to pay up."

I waited nervously, silently, until Franziska spoke. "Why would we question a criminal, you ask? Why question a fool who has more than enough evidence against him?"

I squirmed, furrowing my brow in attempted protest.

She folded her arms calmly, "You've done nothing?... I beg to differ. Although, it may surprise you what you're actually being charged for. You see, there was no proof that you broke in at all."

I raised an eyebrow, still only blinking when absolutely necessary.

Franziska's eyes widened in disgust. She could barely bring herself to finish her next sentence: "Well, foolish as you are, leaving fingerprints all over the place, the janitor working last night was even more foolish-- by cleaning your fingerprints off the desk after you left."

I held back a sigh of relief behind all that duct tape (I would've smiled if I could), watching her eye twitch as she revealed that fact.

She caught wind of my satisfaction, adding, "Oh, don't worry-- we have taken care of the man appropriately. As we will of you."

Taken care of the man? That didn't sit too well in my mind. I squirmed again.

"At any rate, when I visited your shabby apartment last night, I was worried I wouldn't be able to find you guilty of anything. It wasn't until I remembered a phrase my father once told me-- that a true Von Karma can find her way out of any predicament --that I knew what to do."

"Mmph?"

"You were quite easy to manipulate-- in fact, the plan ended up working out much more successfully than I would've imagined in the first place! Your assistant was there to see the entire thing! You did the damage that I needed you to do, in order to incriminate you-- not to mention, with a witness watching the entire thing... and here we are. And here you are, unaware of the fact that in mere minutes, you will be escorted off to the detention center."

My eyes widened.

"Why, you ask? Well, Phoenix Wright, to be frank," Franziska raised her eyebrows in an almost flirtatious fashion, "Showing you the evidence would be rather indecent."

I cleared my throat.

She repeated, "Yes, indecent." When I still didn't understand, she rolled her eyes, explaining with the most condescending of tones, "It pains me that you can't recall the events of last night clearly enough to figure out what damage I'm talking about. Perhaps you remember pushing me violently onto your cold, unforgiving floor?"

My eyes narrowed in disgust, shifting their gaze to the floor. I remembered all too well.

Emphasizing every syllable more than the last, she said, "For your information, your massive body weight was enough to partially crush me. now, I can't simply remove my clothing to show you the bruises and broken bones!"

I involuntarily shouted, "MMPH?!"

"A rib!" she clarified with triumph.

You pushed me on top of you so that I would break-- my God, Von Karma!

I could feel the sweat beading on my forehead. I could handle a fingerprint analysis and a mess of files on the floor, but a broken rib and a witness? My argument weakened with every second I looked into Franziska's satisfied eyes.

Bruises and broken bones... There's something to be said about a woman who will stop at nothing to get what she wants, even if it means pulling me down to the floor, only to injure herself.

Franziska broke my dumbfounded silence by saying, "A fractured rib, to be exact. I was quite shocked, myself."

Tell me this is a nightmare.

"You probably weren't expecting me to leave directly from your dingy apartment to the emergency room. Well, I wasn't planning on it, but my side was aching, I was short of breath... The doctor asked me what happened, and I broke down in tears! Oh, the horror of it all... first, to have your own office broken into by a foolish, spiky-haired defense attorney and a mangy, useless detective! Then, to find out that the fool has stolen your most private possession from your desk drawer! Then, to have that same fool nearly puncture your lung under his massive weight!?" She paused dramatically to collect her thoughts.

Our eyes met, and she finished, "Why, what I wouldn't give to nearly puncture one of your lungs."

I grunted in pain as I moved my neck and back, trying to slide myself out of the chair-- I had to get out.

"Phoenix Wright, calm yourself," Franziska patted my shoulder patronizingly. I cringed. "It doesn't matter who pushed who... All that matters is that I'm injured, and you get what you deserve."

My eye twitched.

The victorious look across Franziska's face was almost unbearable as she responded, "I consider myself to be a bit vindictive, you see... You're responsible for my father's death. That isn't as forgettable or forgivable as you'd think... Phoenix Wright. Even if it was, that doesn't change the fact that you've ruined my perfect record. My father told me it was crucial that my record remain perfect throughout my entire career, and to stop at nothing to reach that goal... I wouldn't have to get rid of you if you weren't so damn good at what you do. Although, by 'what you do', I really mean foolishly bluffing rather than presenting competent evidence... nevertheless, the judge seems to love you."

I tried to remain composed, my eyes shifting nervously across the room.

"I hate that about you, Phoenix Wright."

My eyes shifted.

Franziska pouted mockingly, bending down to my eye level, "I know. It's all so terrible, this situation. I feel your pain. Especially because I see your remorse-- and to think of the horrors I've done to you..."

She touched my cheek with the tips of her fingers, "consoling" me.

Then she tore the duct tape off my face, her face feigning sympathy as she pushed out her bottom lip. I cringed as the top layer of my cheeks practically ripped off my face...

"Sorry for what I've done," Franziska smirked.

"Almost beat me to death?" I gasped for air.

Franziska brought her index finger to her chin, muttering, "Yeah, that too."

What the hell is that supposed to mean?

"... W-What else?" I asked hoarsely-- speaking took a lot more energy than I'd expected.

"I'm sorry," Franziska turned around, disregarding my question. "I have a phone call to make."

Before I could object, Franziska walked behind her desk, sat down, and picked up the phone.

"Who are you calling?" I asked, a little more loudly than I had anticipated. I cleared my throat. "Franziska Von Karma?"

Ignoring me, she pressed a single button before speaking quietly into the receiver; "Hello... No, nothing's wrong. I just want to know how the job went."

"Who are you talking to?" I asked, my voice cracking.

She shushed me, responding to the other person on the phone, "So, you are telling me that they are just arriving at her home? ... Yes, number four, correct..."

Number four? What the hell--

"... Well, they're certainly behind schedule. I wanted her dead an hour ago."

Who's 'her'?

"Mr. Phoenix Wright? Oh, no, he won't be at the apartment-- I'm taking good care of him as we speak. Just get over there and finish her off."

The list.

"Yes, well, we'll worry about him later, I suppose. Once she's dead, he won't have anything to live for, anyway... Poor fool..."

Franziska glanced over at me, emphasizing her last words.

She was going to have Maya killed.

"HANG UP!" I shouted, suddenly panicking.

"Oh, would you tell them I said 'thanks'?" Glancing over at me, she smiled in satisfaction as she chirped, "Why, that's... perfect!"

"DAMN IT!" I scowled, writhing underneath three layers of duct tape as I tried to sit up, "If you don't hang up, Franziska, I'm... I'm--"

"I'm sorry, could you repeat that?" Franziska leaned across her desktop, looming over me with satisfaction as she held the phone out for me to hear what the man was saying.

"One of our servicers will send you a bill tomorrow."

Yelling into the phone, I shouted, "You can't get away with this!"

"Who was that?"

"Phoenix Wright!" Franziska shrieked, yanking the phone away. I wasn't sure whether she was just screaming my name in anger, or answering the man's question.

"I believe our services are meant to be a private matter, Ms. Von Karma. Third parties are strictly prohibited."

Wildly, Franziska responded, "Oh, don't worry-- Mr. Phoenix Wright is next! I thought I could take him on myself, but the man is stronger than he looks--"

I tried to move the rolling office chair I was in, inching toward Franziska as I kicked my legs. I growled, "De Killer! You can't kill Maya Fey! I-- can't let you!"

"What is that man saying?"

I finally reached the desk. Like a fallen super hero getting back on his feet after being struck with kryptonite, I screamed, "First Miles Edgeworth, now Maya Fey?

Then, Franziska screamed, doing the one thing I was not expecting-- punching me square in the jaw, sending me flying back onto the floor, chair and all.

I screamed from my position on the ground, refusing to give up, "DE KILLER! Did you... kill... Miles Edgeworth?"

"Well, I--"

Franziska interrupted the man; "Phoenix Wright, you had better keep your mouth shut--"

"What was that? What did that man just say?"

"Nothing! Just finish off Number Four, would you," Franziska leaned over the desk again, glaring at me in disgust as she asked frantically, "...Please?"

"Of course."

I moaned, though it was useless, "No..."

As politely as she could, Franziska panted into the receiver, "All... all right-- thank you."

My heart stopped as I heard her slam down the phone.

Franziska rubbed her hands together as if she'd just finished a dirty job, brushing off her skirt delicately. She exhaled as she shot me a look of pure hatred.

"I thought I was doing a favor by removing the tape off your face. And you couldn't shut up for one minute?"

I could feel my cheeks turning red with anger. I yelled again, "You really think you can get away with killing Maya Fey!?"

"Oh, yes, and kill you, too-- but not too quickly. Watching you squirm is ninety percent of the fun."

I involuntarily squirmed in my seat, on cue.

"Do you think she's dead yet?" Franziska asked casually, a hint of a teasing smile passing through her lips.

I whispered fiercely, "Let me go."

"What!? Why would I do that?"

"Kill me later... but let me go now."

"You want to watch your lover die? How..." Franziska thought for a perfect word, "Pathetic."

I growled.

"By now, she should be dead anyway," she mentioned, whipping out a pair of scissors and running them down the line of masking tape that covered my body. I stood up wearily-- I was still a little lightheaded as I ran for the door.

As I fumbled with the doorhandle, Franziska asked loudly, "What's wrong, Mr. Phoenix Wright? Do you think you could possibly save your precious Ms. Fey from a professional killer?"

Well, I couldn't not save her...

Already halfway out the door, I shouted back, "Not only will I do that, but I'll expose you for being the criminal you are!"

I slammed the door shut before I could hear a response. I ran out of the lobby, ignoring the strange looks I was getting-- perhaps they had heard every word of the argument going on in Franziska's office, but I wasn't about to explain anything. Not when I had someone to rescue. And not just anyone... but the one person that mattered most: Maya!

Gumshoe was still waiting in his busted red sedan when I shoved through the lobby doors. He opened his mouth to speak as I hopped in the car, but I shouted above him, "Step on it! We gotta get to my apartment!" Panicking, I fumbled for the cell phone in my pocket, flipping it open and dialing 9-1-1 as quickly as I could with my shaking fingers. "Hello!?"

The detective next to me slammed on the accelerator, pulling out into oncoming traffic and swerving onto the other side of the road. I didn't think twice about his reckless driving.

"What is your emergency?"

"Someone's being killed on the fourth floor of the Gatewater apartment complex!"

"What?-- Where are you calling from?"

I spoke more quickly than I could think; "I-I'm in the car... I just heard a phone call to the assassin himself! Please, hurry!"

"You said the fourth floor of what apartment complex again?"

"Gatewater! Fourth floor, apartment 402-- second door on the left!"

"All right!"

"All right?-- Uh, thanks --DAMN IT!"

The phone fell out of my hands as Gumshoe honked his horn, swerving and missing an oncoming truck by only a few inches.

--

The sweat trickling into my eyes and rolling off my chin was not enough to keep me from sprinting to the apartment. My mind ran faster than the pace at which I was running to get to the apartment.

I guess I wasn't even thinking clearly enough to avoid running into one of the police officers standing in the doorway.

The officer grabbed the hood of my jacket; I choked and finally stopped trying to run. I didn't want to end up on the ground for the second time that day, after all.

"Look, fellas, looks like the killer decided to come back!"

"What!?" I shouted, "I'm not De Killer! I'm Wright!"

The officer gave me a strange look, "You were pretty wrong for trying to enter the crime scene, son! If you aren't the killer, who is!?"

"DE KILLER!" I exclaimed back.

"...Yeah, the killer. Listen, I don't have time for any of this funny-business--"

"No-- I mean, De Killer... the professional assassin! I'm the one who called you saying there was going to be a murder if you didn't show up in time!"

The man let go of my collar, muttering, "Keep your shirt on, son. If you could just step aside--" The officer pushed me out of the doorway and walked briskly through the door.

"WAIT!" I shouted, following the man inside. "I need to see her!"

"Her? You mean the victim?"

"The victim!? Wait, no... she's not... is she!?"

"Dead?" The officer turned around towards the commotion in the living room, not answering my question.

Getting more impatient, I tried running past the man-- and failed. The officer grabbed the back of my shirt before I even realized it, throwing me into my living room wall.

Pressing my shoulders into the wall, he shouted, "Sir, you're going to get arrested with that kind of behavior! We can't have random passers-by tainting the crime scene!"

I yelled back, "Random passers-by!? I'm her--"

"Calm down, son," the officer released me tentatively, leading me outside again. "Who are you, anyway?"

Shaking, I replied, "Phoenix Wright. I live here--"

"Waaaaait a minute!" One of the other officers standing in the doorway turned around. "You're Phoenix Wright? The talented defense attorney?"

Irritated, I brushed off the comment, "Sure... I'm sorry, but, I really need to be in there!"

"No, you don't! We're bringing her out right now! She's gonna need treatment!"

"Please, just let me--"

"Son, what type of insurance do you have?" the officer asked.

"Uhm..." Too preoccupied to remember, I asked stupidly, "Why?"

"We're going to have to take her into the hospital immediately-- oh, here they come."

I froze in the middle of the doorway, staring in horror at the girl being carried out on a stretcher. The blood coming from a wound on the side of her head dripped onto the floor, and her limp arm hung off the side of the stretcher. It flailed around as the medics tried to maneuver through the doorway.

I argued, making a move to secure Maya's arm in the stretcher before she hurt something else, "She's going to get hurt! You need to fix that!" I rested her hand carefully across her chest, inconspicuously checking her pulse to make sure she was still alive as I grabbed her wrist.

"Watch out, sir!" The medic responded. "Stay out of the way!"

How could I stay out of the way when this was a life or death matter? If I stayed out of the way every time something was going wrong in court, I wouldn't have the win record I do now... objecting is second-nature to me.

Once the stretcher cleared the doorway, the medics flew out of our building-- the ambulance was already waiting in the street. The cop who had choked me instructed me to sit inside the ambulance with Maya, where I would be asked a couple of questions. The nurse setting up the ambulance threw a bag of ice at me when she saw my face, which had apparently turned black and blue around my eyes and lower lip.

"You hit by the same guys?" she asked as she snapped on two rubber gloves.

"No, actually..." I was too weak to say anything else as I sat down.

The ice wasn't helping in the least. Numbing pain on the outside of the body does nothing to fix the hurt one feels inside... which is usually much worse. I could live with a busted lip, but not with a broken heart...

I sat on the tiny ambulance bench in horror, watching Maya's body be swabbed and partly bandaged. I looked away in embarrassment when the nurse lifted Maya's shirt to check for injury. The last thing I wanted was to be accused of perversion.

As we sped down a bumpy road, the nurse asked me, "Sir, could you tell me... how long it is that you've known Ms. Fey?"

"Maya? Oh, I've known Maya for... what, four years?"

"Good, good. And does she have any allergies?"

I racked my brain, trying to remember if she did. "I don't think... well, maybe... um--"

The nurse lowered her cat-eye glasses, giving me a pathetic look. "I guess we'll find out when we stick an IV in her, now, won't we?"

"Huh!?"

"Listen, sir. I see head wounds all the time. We'll be at the hospital in ten minutes and we'll have her like brand new in a couple days."

I didn't want a "brand new" Maya. I wanted same old, healthy Maya.

--

The unforgiving white lighting in the lobby of the hospital was off-putting enough. The nurse behind the counter, with her condescending smile and fake nails that tapped against the counter surface incessantly, made my feelings even worse. When I watched Maya being rolled into an emergency room on the bloody stretcher, and saw her arm still flailing around off the side, it took everything I had in me not to scream in agony.

I'd completely forgot about the fact that I'd just been whacked in the head with a crowbar a few times only a few hours before.

Gumshoe had brought Pearl to the hospital a few minutes earlier, but left before I could say anything to him. Poor Pearl could barely lift her eyes off the floor when she whispered 'hello' to me.

In the waiting room, the tiny girl sat next to me as we waited in two uncomfortable plastic chairs, her head leaning into the crook of my arm. With her small body pressed so closely against my side, I could feel her breathing shakily, as if she were about to start crying at any given moment.

Minutes passed without moving or talking, and practically without breathing.

I shut my eyes, trying to cleanse my memory of the day, but that only made the memories more vivid.

I couldn't recall the happiness I felt earlier that morning, when I'd finally made things right with Maya... was that really only a few hours ago?

All I could remember at that moment was the dreadful feeling of being too late, and not being able to save her.

Breaking the silence that had hung in the air, and interrupting my thoughts, Pearl mumbled, "Will Mystic Maya be okay?" She didn't bother to look up at me.

I turned in my seat to face the girl directly. Her shoulders caved in as I moved, having nothing to lean on. "I hope so," I sighed. "We just have to wait here and see. I guess her head was bleeding a little, so the doctors are cleaning her up."

Bleeding a little? That was the understatement of the century. A red waterfall trickled down her temple the entire ambulance ride...

"I mean, she will probably be okay. I was hit in the head too," I clarified stupidly.

Pearl's lip quivered as she turned away quickly, her cheeks turning bright pink as if there was a sob behind them pleading to come out.

"Pearls, are you okay?"

She only nodded. I was afraid that if she spoke, she'd start bawling.

"It's only a matter of time before Maya comes out of that room, back to her normal self. A-And we'll move on, like this nightmare never even happened. Right, Pearls?"

She nodded wistfully. "R-Right..."

I sighed, trying to convince myself, "Right, everything is going to be fine. Let's just stay calm and get through the next few hours together."

"I've never been in a hospital before. I'm just... nervous, Mr. Nick."

It's much easier to be brave when someone else is depending on you to be.

I smiled, like a loving father to his unsure, frightened daughter, "Pearls, the best way to cure nerves is to stick together. I'm nervous, too... Can I see a little smile?"

As if on cue, Pearl let a tear roll down her cheek.

I panicked. "Pearls, no...!"

"Sorry, Mr. Nick," she apologized, burying her face in her hands.

"No, I didn't mean it like that-- I'm sorry!"

I took one of her hands from her face, lacing my fingers into hers.

She sniffed, and looked down at the hands in her lap. Her hand seemed tiny, only half the size of mine-- and her fingers trembled inbetween the fingers of my right hand. My hand was so dry, the cracks of skin between each finger were raw... my hands have seen better days; they know what it's like to be hurt. Pearl's skin, I noticed, felt brand new and smooth-- she'd never known much hurt before. She didn't know how to handle such a dire situation...

I couldn't blame Pearl for being afraid-- there was a chance that Maya, her only family, could die. She needed family; she needed people to love her unconditionally, to dote on her, to comfort her in her time of need. She needed a mother and father.

In a sense, that made Maya and me her unofficial guardians once her mother left. And I do love Pearl, as if she were my own daughter. I'm in pain when she's in pain, I'm afraid when she's afraid...

I guess that's why I found it so hard not to cry once I took Pearl's hand in mine.

"You can cry if you want to," I muttered, turning back to face the front of the room. I rested my left arm over her shoulders, trying to shelter her from any more emotional harm. "You'll feel worse if you hold all your sadness in, you know," I leaned into her ear.

"... All right," Pearl finally whispered, leaning against me. Her hand remained in mine as I felt her relax, the side of her face melting into my side.

Neither of us said a word after that, let alone acknowledged each other at all. Pearl still sniffled for at least half an hour, wiping her eyes by nuzzling her face into my shirt, but I couldn't think clearly enough to speak any words of encouragement to her. Words weren't really needed, though; they would've been redundant at that point.

It wasn't until a nurse said to me, "Are you the family of Maya Fey?", that I even looked up from the ground.

Retracting my hand from its spot on top of Pearl's, I said hesitantly, "Yes... i-is something the matter?"

"Well... yes--"

I raised an eyebrow in worry, practically begging her to give me a positive answer when I asked, "Is she all right?"

"W-Well, why don't I let you two see her?"

Not exactly the positive answer I was looking for.

The nurse motioned for Pearl and I to get up, and we did, following her to the dreaded emergency room.

"I have to warn you before you go in Maya's room," the nurse cautioned us, "There's been a little... problem."

Pearl reached for my hand discreetly, preparing for the worst. When our eyes met, we both had matching expressions of confusion and fear.

Squeezing Pearl's hand as we stood outside Maya's room, I asked nervously, "W-What kind of problem?"

"Well... it seems she has lost a bit of her memory."

"What!?" Pearl and I both exclaimed a little too loudly. I asked, "What doesn't she remember?"

"Well, I guess when I said 'a bit of her memory', that was an understatement. She cannot even remember her own name..."

Pearl's grip was a lot stronger than I had imagined a ten-year old's to be. Trying to remain calm, I said, "I had amnesia once... is it... do you think Maya will regain her memory?"

"We've been showing her people and objects that should have sparred her memory, but... I'm sorry, nothing seems to catch her attention. Based on the scans of her brain activity, it may be a very slow process..."

I looked down at Pearl, smiling optimistically at her (although I knew nothing positive was about to come out of the situation).

"Well, why don't you two say 'hi' to Ms. Fey?" the nurse asked after a moment of sad silence as she led us to the doorway. "She's resting right now, but at least you can see her."

I nodded, taking a deep breath in preparation for what I was about to see.

Pearl reluctantly followed me into the miniscule room, squeezing my hand so tightly I could've sworn my fingers were about to break off.

... Maya slept in the hospital bed in the center of the room. The only reason I knew she was alive was because of the heart monitor beeping slowly in the corner.

She was motionless, sleeping under the thin covers of the bed. I almost complained to the nurse about why more blankets weren't being used (after all, the room seemed to be at a comfortable temperature of thirty degrees below zero), until I noticed a blanket in a heap on a cart-- covered in blood. The nurse took out a clean blanket from out of the small closet in the corner, and draped it over Maya, covering everything but her face.

A thick layer of gauze wrapped around Maya's forehead was spotted with dried blood, as was her hospital gown. An IV stood by the bed, its tubes surging type O blood into her frail arm.

For being around crime scenes so much, I sure felt uneasy around all that blood.

Apparently, so did Pearl. She tugged on my shirt as she whimpered, "Mr. Nick..."

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"I, um, well..." Pearl glanced around anxiously, excusing herself by saying, "I can wait outside if you want. You should be with Mystic Maya, anyway..."

I nodded, completely aware of the fact that she was trying to escape. "Just stay right outside, though, okay?"

Pearl practically sprinted out of the room as she sighed in relief. I felt like a father again, feeling the same pain she was feeling-- I hated seeing Pearl so uncomfortable, especially because there was nothing I could do to soothe her. The nurse left the room on cue, and thankfully, I heard her strike up a casual conversation with Pearl outside.

Meanwhile, I was trying to figure out what to do now that I was alone with Maya. I wanted so desperately to touch her, or kiss her on the cheek... but, if she were to wake up, the situation could end up in disaster-- especially if she couldn't remember that I almost proposed to her.

Leaning against the bedrail, I mumbled, "Hi, Maya."

No response, of course.

"I'm so sorry..."

I could hear the nurse trying to tell Pearl a joke outside. Pearl wasn't laughing.

I sighed, "This is all my fault. I couldn't save you-- damn it..."

Something inside me burst. I could feel my eyes getting a little moist.

"I mean, it should be me in your position right now. I'm the one who should suffer... right? You aren't the one who broke Von Karma's perfect win record, you've done nothing..." Pleading to the sleeping body in front of me, I choked, "I tell you what, as soon as you're feeling better, I'll, uh..."

I guess I'd figure out what I would do when she was feeling better. I stopped talking. There isn't much to say to a person who can't hear you, right?

I love you.

Except that.

Without thinking, I reached for Maya's limp hand, half-hoping to bring her back to life.

My heart hurt.

Lifting her hand to my chest, I wondered... Where do I go from here? If Maya couldn't remember who I was... where does that leave us? It was only a matter of time before she would wake up, and realize that I'm a complete stranger-- and if the memory damage was permanent, that would mean... the end of it, wouldn't it? Our relationship could never be the same after starting from scratch, could it?

"Damn it."

A tear fell from my cheek onto the limp hand I held against my heart. If there's one thing I hate more than anything, it's crying in public. I forced myself to swallow down whatever was welling up behind my eyes, wiping my face with my sleeve. I had to be strong-- I didn't want Maya to wake up to the sight of a grown man sobbing...

Instinctively, I lifted her hand up to my lips, letting them quiver on her fingers for a moment. I kissed them, and involuntarily allowed two other tears escape from my eyes onto the back of her hand. My lips lingering on her skin, I fought the urge to bend down and kiss her on the mouth-- only because I was afraid of hurting her. Her hand was the next best thing.

Someone called out, "Um, excuse me..."

I jumped and turned around, dropping Maya's hand clumsily-- it was the nurse. "I'm sorry!" I turned back around, gently placing her hand under the blanket where it came from. I hoped my face wasn't red as I panicked, "I mean, uh--!"

"Oh!" the nurse sighed. "I'll come back later." The door slammed shut as the nurse shuffled out.

I exhaled, turning around once more towards the bed to swallow back tears.

Maya rustled the sheet on her bed, her eyes fluttering open, then closing peacefully.

"Hello?" I asked quietly, although I could hear a hint of panic seeping through my teeth.

Her eyes fluttered for a minute, until they finally remained open.

"Maya..."

She stared at me for some time, her expression remaining neutral. I smiled, hoping she would say my name sooner or later...

Say it... Say, "Nick, my love!" Say anything! Please, remember I exist...

"D-Doctor?" she asked, trying to identify me.

I bit my lip as my heart sank to the floor. "Not exactly..."

"Nurse?"

She... she had no idea.

My heart hurt before-- but now it ached.

"Who... are you?" she whispered.

"I'm Phoenix. You usually call me Nick... don't you remember?"

Maya's brow furrowed slightly, as much as the gauze tape keeping her forehead in one place would allow, trying to recall. "Nick...? I can't... I mean, don't, remember... Who are you?"

What do I say? 'I'm your hopefully-fiancee'? "We live together," I mumbled, heartbroken. "I... um, how are you feeling?"

Maya shifted uncomfortably in the bed. She lifted her free arm to adjust a sheet.

"Oh, Maya, I'll take care of that!" I hurry to grab the sheet, tucking her in slightly at the sides.

"Maya?... W-Who's that?"

I paused. "Maya... is you."

There was a moment of silence.

I gazed into her eyes, hoping to find a spark of life, of the old Maya, in them-- but they were devoid of any spirit. She was a Maya Fey, but not my Maya Fey...

"This is all my fault," I lamented almost inaudibly. "I'm so sorry-- if only I hadn't gotten involved with Von Karma--"

"Wait..." Maya's cheeks flushed pink, her eyes glistening as she whispered, "I'm confused."

I'm sure my eyes glistened as much as hers were. Although, her tears were the result of sheer frustration that she couldn't remember who I was-- mine, on the other hand, were because of the memories... knowing that her eyes used to sparkle when they met with mine, and now they were almost lifeless...

"Me too," I whispered back, looking away. If I tried to explain anything else, it might've been both of us crying. I definitely didn't want that to happen-- after all, those first few minutes in the hospital were Maya's 'first impression' of me. I couldn't ruin them.

A fat tear rolled from her cheek down her neck, leaving a wet spot on the hem of her hospital gown.

"Don't cry," I half-smiled, bending down to touch her face with the back of my hand, "We'll figure things out. I promise."

Our faces were several inches apart-- I offered a smile, enjoying the closeness. Her mouth curved upwards the tiniest bit, as she responded weakly, "Okay... Neil..."

The smile left my face, making my hurt feelings quite obvious-- I stood up, scratching my head as I corrected her, "It's... Nick."

Someone knocked at the door; I called for them to come in, clearing my throat.

"Visiting hours are over, Mr. Wright," the nurse said, looking up from her clipboard. "Oh-- Maya's awake! Did you two talk at all?"

I nodded.

"Well, then... why don't you come outside with me? Someone's coming with new bed sheets for her."

Yeah, it's about time they were coming...

"Goodbye, Maya," I smiled solemnly, grabbing her hand once again.

Maya smiled weakly.

I lifted her hand to kiss her fingers one final time.

I followed the nurse out, waving a weak 'goodbye' to Maya before I left. The door shut, and I tried to sigh, but the only breath I could get out was a shallow, quivering, panicky exhalation. The kind of weak breath one lets out right before he starts sobbing to the point where he becomes nauseous.

The nurse offered a sympathetic smile. "She will be ready to leave tomorrow, at least... any luck jogging her memory?"

Pearl appeared, poking her head out from behind the woman. She seemed to have perked up quite a bit, as she asked curiously, "Is Mystic Maya herself yet?"

I could only respond with a blunt, "No."

"O-Oh," Pearl stuck her finger in her mouth, biting at her fingernail. "Well... maybe tomorrow..."

"That's exactly right, little Pearl," the nurse exclaimed, trying to lighten the mood, "If you'd like, you can wait around for a few hours and grab dinner downstairs. You can visit Ms. Fey again in a little while."

I nodded. It was about all I could do.

The nurse walked away. I was left with Pearl, hoping she would be the first person to say something. I couldn't bring myself to speak. I couldn't force myself to begin walking towards the elevator. I was frozen.

Pearl finally asked, "Mr. Nick... we should get going?"

Snapping out of a daze, I muttered, "Yeah," and started heading for the door. Pearl was trailing behind, and I didn't even notice.

"We should do something," she suggested, catching up to me as we pushed our way through the revolving exit. "The nurse was really nice... um... she said the cafeteria was on the third floor. I'm a little hungry..."

"What's for dinner?" I asked blankly.

"I think she said... hamburgers."

A shiver went up my spine. I was going to be sick.

"Let's just go," I muttered, letting Pearl lead the way to the elevator.

She pressed the button to go downstairs, and the door opened immediately. Luckily, no one was inside... Pearl and I were the only ones riding. We both slumped onto the back wall.

I rubbed my eyes to wipe away any evidence of crying a few minutes before.

"Mr. Nick?"

"Oh, Pearls," I sighed loudly. Not really expecting an answer, I asked in a half-whisper, "What are we gonna do?"

The girl looked up at me, and I at her.

"Mr. Nick, your eyes are all red."

I blushed, looking away. "Great..."

"Sorry."

"I'm sorry, too, Pearls," I responded. "It's just..."

It's just that this could not have happened at a worse time...

"Yeah, I know," Pearl sighed in agreeance. And then, like a mature daughter trying to comfort her feeble, emotionally-unstable father... she took my hand and squeezed it tightly. "Mr. Nick?"

"... Yeah?" I smiled glumly at her.

"You can cry if you want to."

I choked, just in time for the elevator to open its doors.