Author's Notes:

Oh my GOD. I am so, so, SOOOO ridiculously sorry that I haven't updated this in over a year. I've been wanting to post this chapter for months now but just hadn't finished it so I put it off over and over again and let my readers down. DX I hope you can forgive this author, though. EVEN THOUGH YOU PROBABLY SHOULDN'T. As always, a huge thank you to those who commented on the last chapters! It brightens my day to know some of you go out of your way to take the time and comment. I read them all even if I'm unable to respond fast. I WILL TRY HARDER. I'd reply to each of you individually but right now I'm quite cut for time since I have so many other things to finish. It's driving me nuts. I kind of fail at organising my priorities at the moment since I've had so much crap happen in the past year. Emotionally and physically, I haven't been doing very well. Not well at all. All sorts of problems hitting me in the face from all directions and just when I think it's over, BAM. Another one hits. But I'm still alive so hey, I'll finish this story if it's the last thing I do, rofl. I really do enjoy writing it.

(Comments are still very welcomed and I'll do my best to answer back eventually. Let me know what you think! It's obviously not mandatory but it's nice to read your opinion on the story if you have the time. ^^)

As usual, please excuse any grammar, punctuation, spelling, general knowledge or "factual" errors you may find. I really want to go back and edit all of the chapters since my ways of spelling some words are all muddled up due to my constant "UK ENGLISH/ US ENGLISH" switching I keep making to keep the story consistent. It's not working. D: Like I sometimes accidentally type "mobile" instead of "cell" but I also have to remember that I still spell words the British way. Like "travelling" as opposed to "traveling." So I get confused a lot ahaha. /shuts up.

Disclaimer: The characters and settings created by CAPCOM that are featured in this story are solely owned by their creators. I do not claim them as mine in any way, shape or form. I am not recieving monetary profit from having written this story and no copyright infringement is intended.

"Jumping to Conclusions"

*~Chapter Eleven~*

Morning silence.

The ringtone of the cell on the marquetry commode blemished what little peace Miles had managed to collect during his brief slumber. Such a rare thing was relaxation in the prosecutor's hectic lifestyle, that the loss of such a moment was naught but only too common and he regretfully extended a lazy hand to answer the call which had so rudely disrupted his repose.

"Miles Edgeworth, speaking." Despite the actuality that he had just been forced into waking, he still managed to uphold the distinct, professional mannerism he was so used to.

"Mr Edgeworth, it's Doctor Calloway from California Hospital Medical Center." Not waiting for his response,the caller continued speaking, "I… have some important news to tell you."

Freezing with instantaneous worry, the previously drowsy lawyer's eyes widened as he digested the strangely calm words of the practitioner speaking to him on the other end of the line. The sort of voice she was using was one of those voices; the type that was no doubt masking something far more calamitous than what she dared to imply.

Miles attempted to breathe away his anxiety, closing his eyes for a short moment before speaking.

"W-what is it...?"

Please don't let it be bad news... Anything but that.

"It's about... Mr Wright."

"..."

Of course it was regarding Phoenix. Who else... why else would she have a reason to call. Swallowing down the accumulation of disquietude which had risen up his throat, the prosecutor hastily got out of bed and rushed to collect his clothing from the wardrobe a few metres away; the phone cradled between his shoulder and the side of his face as he changed into a clean pair of pants. Moving swiftly, a feeble attempt at sounding intrepid somehow managed to slip from his mouth.

"I'll be right there."

Despite his efforts to conceal it, the trace of a waver lingered on his reply.

He had little to no idea how he had arrived at his target location as fast as he did.

The hospital walls once again loomed on all sides, stark white... pure ... as if to falsely reassure him that there was no such thing as death or misery in this universe that he dared to live in.

But Miles wasn't so confident for some reason. Walking brusquely through corridor after corridor, his feet blindly led him in the direction of the room that was currently alienating his friend from the rest of the world. The more distance he covered, the more he was able to see that there was in fact a small gathering of medical staff standing in the doorway of the ward he was headed to, talking amongst themselves in what sounded like solemn tones of voice.

There was a moment's hesitation as Miles was trapped between deciding to barge past them and maintaining his repose to calmly ask for Doctor Calloway. His question was spared as soon as he spotted the wispy-haired woman gently squeeze her way between the others and out of the ward, her facial expression, mysteriously unreadable.

Don't let this be what I think it is.

"Mr Edgeworth..."

Don't say it.

Small, slightly trembling hands repositioned the thinly-framed glasses balancing on Doctor Calloway's long nose as she let out a quiet sigh. "None of us expected this, but..."

"T-Tell me! What is it? What happened to him?" Any manners Miles had kept stored to address the woman were immediately rendered non-existent as the now-familiar panic started to well up inside his chest all over again. "Let me see him, please!" By this point he had started to sway to the left, trying to find a space between the staff gathered at the ward's entrance. "Move out of the way. Now."

"Sir, I don't think it's... I mean. Y-you really shouldn't." A middle-aged nurse gave him a pitiful glance before turning away, wringing her hands. "Not yet."

"... W-why not?" The prosecutor's now frightened voice replied. How was it, that someone who could be so annoyingly calm at a crime scene, suddenly have a personality switch now?

Was that really me speaking?

A hand rested on Miles' tense shoulder from behind. It was a sympathetic motion, executed purely to prepare him for whatever was going to be uttered next. Unsurprisingly, he found out the hand belonged to Doctor Calloway.

Whatever you are going to tell me, I don't want to hear it... I just want to SEE him.

Strangely, though his thoughts pressured him to ignore her, he listened. He painfully forced himself to hold still for just a moment longer for an explanation to this morbid atmosphere that had welcomed him.

"About an hour or so before you arrived... Mr Wright... Well. He..."

This suspense... I don't need it. I don't NEED it. I don't want to hear your voice anymore... Only his. Just his.

His thoughts bounced back and forth between wanting an explanation and refusing one, momentarily giving himself the impression that he was going insane. His aim now was to speak to Phoenix, to know he was okay. Just hearing Phoenix greet him... Seeing him blink and smile would be enough.

"... I regret to inform you... he didn't make it. I'm terribly sorry."

"I need to see him, I don't care if you -"

Wait a minute. No.

… No.

It was as if time had stood still.

"Wh-what did you say...?" Miles' body visibly shook as soon as he processed the information; each syllable sinking in and piercing his core like merciless, poison-dipped arrows.

I misheard you. I'm sure of it... I just...

"Complications arose overnight... His intracranial pressure rose unexpectedly. A-and that reduced the blood flow to his brain, thus lessening oxygen supply to the surrounding tissue as well." Doctor Calloway was looking at the floor now, her voice husky with regret.

Something snapped within the prosecutor before her, and his broken voice startled her into looking up again.

"C-complications? Why... why was nobody there to supervise him in the first place? Why didn't anybody KNOW?"

This is not happening... I refuse to believe it. I can't -

A second of lost thought in which malpractice lawsuits were looming at the verge of his mind seemed to encapsulate the lawyer before he shook his head distrustfully, moving straight through the other people with a well-placed shove and ignoring their words with false deafness. Knowing that he would be forever haunted by what he was about to see, he turned to look at the solitary bed to his right, a white sheet drawn over the rigid form that lay underneath.

The form that was once a living, breathing human being, not unlike himself. The form that was once that of the man who had saved him and stuck by his side no matter how resilient a barrier Miles put up around himself to prevent anyone from getting close. Somehow, that one person had been strong enough to fight through the net of barbed wire surrounding his heart.

Now, all that he could see was a lifeless form. Faceless and unidentifiable.

… Phoenix?

"Ph-Phoenix..."

Surely this is a joke, right? That cannot possibly be him.

Denial was getting the better of Miles as he quickly moved to pull the sheet away from the corpse, shaky hands making the seemingly easy feat near impossible. Tears were painfully pricking his eyes as he uncovered the top of the body, leaving himself staring closely at the one individual he had hoped, more than anyone, it would not be.

Cyanosis had tinged his skin a sickening grey and his lips an almost pale blue. Those once bright, cerulean-coloured irises forever sheltered behind cold eyelids. Miles stared, wishing with what was undoubtedly false hope that the still man would blink and greet him with that familiar glint in his eyes that he had grown to love.

Silently, he moved one of his hands to grip Phoenix's wrist and found that his arms were frozen, for lack of a better word. Rigor mortis had surely done its job, inhibiting the once-attorney's body to a state of inflexibility.

It's... It's him. The unparalleled flavour of gastric acid bubbled up in his throat, caustic and foul. It's him.

"No. Phoenix... Phoenix."

His worst fear... agonisingly confirmed.

"Mr Edgeworth, sir... I... I need you to - "

"Just go... Get out. GET OUT!" His voice both hollow and angry, Miles pointed at the exit, addressing Doctor Calloway and her fellow co-workers without turning to look at them. Falling to his knees at Phoenix's bedside, he clutched hopelessly at the still form of his friend, cradling him tightly.

"A-alright. We'll... be out here if you need us." The reply from the woman at the doorway was still as husky as before, and Miles chose to ignore the fact that she was probably used to announcing to people when their loved ones had passed away.

To you... It's just part of your job. Isn't it.

…

He could hear their retreating steps as they left him be, still holding Phoenix to his chest as if they were glued together.

"Phoenix... p-please wake up. Don't do this. Don't you DARE die on me! I… I..."

It's too late.

"Why am I always... It's my fault. All my fault. I let you die. If only I had just -"

If only.

The last regrets of a fallen man.

It was hurting him so much. So damned much. Every second that passed was agony and seemed to enjoy teasing Miles that the one person who had so much faith in him was now gone forever. There would be no more hearing that voice, no more seeing that grin. As for loving him...

… He'd never know.

"Y-y-you hate me, don't you? This is another one of your games. Like all of the others."

He had no idea whom he was addressing at that moment. God? Was there even a God? Miles was lost and convinced himself that if there was one, he was obviously being toyed around with by him.

"You can cut it out now... J-just STOP!" Angry fists curled into the hospital gown on Phoenix's body as Miles dipped his head to bury his face in the material, near-silent sobs wracking his entire form. It was almost akin to that moment in his life seventeen years ago when he was left staring at the cadaver of his father. Cold and unmoving.

"Miles Edgeworth... Who do you have left to turn to? Nobody."

The prosecutor stilled and his eyes looked toward the wall, bloodshot and watery. Whose voice had that been, again?

"I can help you. Just come along with me and everything will be fine."

Of course.

Manfred von Karma.

That man led him to believe he could help him. So distrustful in the end. Phoenix, on the other hand...

Miles looked at that pale face once more, fighting back the nausea threatening to overcome him.

You were the only one who kept true to your word. In the end, I could only trust YOU.

"You're the only person I could trust without fail. All those years, you never gave up on me."

As expected, there was no response. Miles breathed shakily and lowered his head again, clinging tightly in a manner nobody had ever seen him carry out. But that didn't matter any longer.

After all, he was only human. Humans are erroneous. We say and do things even we ourselves don't anticipate, his father once told him. And little did Miles know he was about to articulate something that he never expected would leave his lips.

"I... I wish that... you and I..."

The echo of a surgeon's beeper was heard from somewhere in the distance. Miles tried to ignore it, realising his brain was now attempting to search for any distraction to divert his attention from the painful sight before him.

"... never met."

A silence followed, broken only by the concerned murmuring of the doctors and nurses standing out in the corridor beyond the ward.

What am I saying? I didn't say that. That wasn't me, Phoenix. Forgive me.

"Forgive me..."

I don't regret meeting you.

But it hurt. So much. Remembering that time he had stepped up to defend Phoenix in class as children... That time, after skinning his knee just after they had become friends, when Phoenix had gone to fetch a band-aid for him with a level of worry high enough that any adult would have thought he had witnessed a train collision instead of someone just falling over on gravel... That time when he and Phoenix shared lunch after the spiky-haired child had left his sandwich at home by accident. The time Miles had to leave him without saying goodbye.

Now it was the other of the pair... departing without so much as a farewell.

…

Who knew how long it had been since the prosecutor had stepped into the ward. If it was only minutes, it felt more like hours. Exhaustion from having dealt with extreme grief was taking a toll on his system, gradually making him feel more ill and sleepy at the same time. He wasn't aware when the footsteps of a man approached him on the right, and a concerned voice alerted him into finally raising his head.

"..."

"Mr Edgeworth, I'm presuming?" The man had a solemn look on his face equivalent to that on the faces of those waiting outside. "I'm here to wheel the body to the morgue."

"Th-The morgue?" Miles echoed, staring at the stranger with a gaunt expression.

How on Earth can you even say that to me so casually...?

"Yes. I'm terribly sorry... Protocol measures state th -"

"... I understand." The attorney cut him off, looking blankly at the floor, his voice almost unrecognisable and too quiet for his liking.

Without further ado, the doctor nodded and once more covered the body, much to Miles' regret. Swiftly, he began wheeling Phoenix's corpse towards the exit, another doctor moving to assist him by redirecting the foot of the stretcher towards the sliding door. Miles remained still, staring after the departing form of his friend and biting back a choked sob silently.

Don't go...

He stood up, wanting to move forward... Yet his legs seemed rooted firmly to the floor.

...D-Don't go!

His arm lifted by his side as his fingers outstretched, as if hoping that he'd grip onto some unseen rope that would pull Phoenix back into his arms if it would somehow delay the time he'd spend in a freezer, alone, by just a little more.

… Why are you leaving me.

And it was then his knees seemed to shatter upon the hard surface of the hospital floor as his body, inexplicably unable to move forward, plummeted down for the second time that morning.

"Ph-Phoenix..."

Life was indeed fond of playing strange games with people. Cruel, unforgiving... inescapable. The strings of fate always tangled way too soon.

"I..." His voice came out as nary a cracked whisper, hardly perceptible. "...I love you."

What good did it do to utter his feelings aloud now? Phoenix was dead. He'd never come back.

All because of him.

All because he thought of himself before anyone else. Selfish. Just the one trait he wished he had never embraced. What on Earth was he going to tell Maya and Pearl? Just the very premise of breaking the news to those girls would break his heart all over again.

I feel like I'm going to be sick...

An invisible, burning noose seemed to tighten around his oesophagus with a level of pain not unlike that of genuine, physical strangulation. Such harrowing shock had left him unable to breathe properly; the fact of which he grasped quite well upon finding out that his lungs seemed to be drowning. Closing his reddened eyes and gasping for air, the silver-haired man hopelessly tilted his head to the ceiling and let every ache within his heart consume him. It felt like the floor was opening up beneath his legs and it wasn't long before gravity seemed to drag him downward into a hole he could not see, because he refused to open his eyes...

...He refused to look at a world without Phoenix in it.

When will I stop falling.

The air around him seemed to get warmer the further he descended. Behind sandpaper eyelids he could sense everything getting brighter, the light filtering through the skin and shining onto his retinas as if someone were disdainfully shining a torch onto his face. How unusual... Wasn't it supposed to get darker?

There was no such thing as light any more, was there? There should not be.

Not without you.

He numbly braced himself for the inevitable collision with whatever was waiting for him at the end of this long fall, hoping it would knock him out so he could avoid having to face everything for even just a little while.

…

What he didn't expect, was to make contact with a soft yet firm landing and for his eyes to snap open, leaving him staring up at the pale ceiling of his bedroom with beaded sweat on his brow and his lungs filling and emptying with air dangerously fast. A range of emotions flooded him... Anger, sorrow, anxiety...

… Relief.

Complete and utter relief. All caused by that one occurrence that everyone labelled as cliché in a novel or video game. That one, overused plot twist which would annoy the hell out him whenever he watched a film, which was not often, but still.

A dream.

He lay motionless, his face tear-striken and his breathing rate slowing considerably.

It was just a bad dream.

"Damn it..."

A palm rested on his damp forehead as a sigh left his mouth. Eventually sitting up and rubbing his eyes with clammy hands, Miles let out a low groan and felt the burden of pseudo-bereavement lift away from his being. He heard a small laugh, seeming to mock his idiocy for letting another nightmare get the better of him. It wasn't long at all before he linked the laugh to his own lips as it had indeed been coming from himself.

"You bloody fool."

Stupid. Of course he didn't die.

He froze.

Everything in his nightmare had been so real. So frighteningly real. The hospital... The doctors.

The dead body.

Miles never thought he'd ever have to associate his best friend with a corpse in the same thought pattern. But here he was, doing just that. Surely Phoenix was alright, though. He had to be. Still, that unsettling feeling didn't leave him. That stomach-gnawing worry that was not unusual after having his dream self witness the horror of such an illusion.

Without checking the time, Miles quickly got up and undressed himself, freeing his limbs from the pale rose-coloured pyjamas and swiftly moving to his wardrobe, not even realising he had left his bed unmade. Heading downstairs, he ignored the temptation of breakfast and retrieved his keys before striding out the door and locking it behind him, with the speed of a person who was on their way to collect their monetary winnings from the week's lottery draw.

Don't worry. I'm coming to see you now.

…

Just wait for me.

"O-oh. You're here early."

8:45am.

Finally checking his silver wristwatch, Miles blinked once and stared straight at Doctor Calloway, silvery eyes focused on hazel. "It appears so."

"Well. We wouldn't normally permit visitors this early..."

I believe we have discussed this before. There is no need to repeat yourself.

"Yes, I'm aware of that, Doctor. I still insist on seeing him." He responded, laconically.

The prosecutor folded his arms and tapped his finger on his forearm slowly, his eyes narrowed in such a way that his overall expression had irritation written all over it. He had persuaded the people at the administration desk to let him pay a visit, and God be damned if he wasn't going to be allowed to see Phoenix now.

"O-of course. Let me take you to his room." She began walking down the corridor, her lawyer companion closely in tow. Miles' tone of voice had evidently made her feel slightly intimidated, causing her to comply with his request - much to his silent satisfaction.

"Did anything change overnight?" He added curiously, picking up the pace alongside her. The strange sense of calm between them, despite their furtive movements, was enough to convince him that everything was fine. There was none of that frightful, morbid tension that he had encountered in his nightmare.

Thankfully.

"Not much. He's doing quite well, actually. His vitals have stabilised nicely and he's not showing any signs of memory loss or cerebral haemorrhaging. He's quite lucky, in fact."

"Hmm." That's wonderful... "The man is practically blessed with good fortune on his side," Miles countered wryly, although he was incredibly pleased at the news.

Or bad fortune. Either way he is the "Master of the Turnabout", as they say.

"Well, blessed or not, he's lucky to have recovered well so far, and to have a friend so caring as yourself."

The doctor opened the door to the ward, stepping to the side to allow Miles entrance. Much to her surprise, he paused and beckoned her to move through first out of courtesy.

"Th-thank you." She replied, not wanting to argue. Stepping into the room, she moved to draw the curtains at the other end. Her hair, Miles noticed, was wispier than usual today. Probably because of the cold wind outside or the fact she just didn't have time to fix it up this morning. Whatever the cause, it made her look more stressed than the day before.

"Did he wake up at all during the night?" The prosecutor gently stepped into the now partially sunlight-filled ward, squinting a little and looking at the bed where Phoenix was sleeping soundly.

Alive.

Thank goodness. You're alright.

A pale hand moved to an equally pale forehead as Miles took a deep breath, the sight before him ameliorating his stress levels significantly. Doctor Calloway turned to look in his direction.

"Well, he woke up once at around 5am this morning... but we didn't call you since it was way too early and probably inconvenient for you. A-are you alright?" Her bespectacled eyes widened concernedly upon witnessing the visitor before her suddenly take on symptoms of an oncoming headache. Or so she thought, the way Miles was holding his head as such.

"I'm fine, thank you." The lawyer lowered his hand and gave her a convincing look. "I've just been incredibly... worried."

"Worried" does not even sum it up half way.

The woman smiled understandingly; the first time since meeting her that Miles had seen an expression on her face other than seriousness, anxiety, or annoyance.

"I know the feeling all too well, Mr Edgeworth."

I'm sure you do, Doctor.

"In any case..." Two stress-wrought palms clasped together in front of her as Doctor Calloway gathered her thoughts. "I'll. Leave you to it. He'll be waking up again soon, no doubt. There's water on the night stand if you need a drink. Or you can just come downstairs to the cafeteria or vending machines."

Miles nodded, looking at her seriously. "Alright."

With that, the practitioner took her leave, closing the door of the ward behind her.

Now that she was gone, the room was awfully quiet. Exhaling softly and pulling a plastic chair up to the side of the hospital bed, the conscious attorney surveyed his best friend's still face and narrowed his grey eyes as a small tendril of worry began to weave its way into his mind again.

I know you'll be fine. So why can't I shake this feeling?

Nightmares had always been one of Miles' weak points. No matter how impressive a shield he fashioned to protect himself from everything else, there was one, unguarded area that was always accessible to those demons that plagued him in his sleep.

That horrid dream is making me paranoid. That's all there is to it.

He crossed his arms and sat up stiffly in his chair, crossing one leg over the other and clearing his throat.

"Wright. Are you done being half-dead, yet? It's time to come back to the world of the living."

He mentally snapped at himself.

Really, Miles? Really? Can't you spare your tactless exclamations until later?

"Ah. I – I mean. Take your time." His voice softened. "Please." Shifting almost uncomfortably, he then muttered, "I'll stay here until you do."

I feel a little ridiculous for talking to somebody who can't hear me.

As if responding to his thoughts to prove him wrong, the defence attorney's eyelids flickered for a fleeting moment. Seeing this, Miles almost jumped in shock but miraculously managed to retain his repose. He prolonged the awkwardness by staring almost disbelievingly at the man lying down before him.

For Christ's sake... He only moved his eyelids a fraction. It's not like he suddenly bolted upright in bed and screamed bloody murder. Honestly, you'd think I'd never seen a person do that before.

But he knew, deep inside, that he was able to appreciate all of those little movements that let him know Phoenix was alive. He was alive and well and he would wake up again soon.

No doubt about it.

I'm here.

Time passed and silence gripped the air with taunting fingers. Miles could feel himself become slightly clammier with each passing minute. How very unlike him. His tired eyes slowly moved from object to object in the room until they focused upon a glass of water on the night stand on the other side of the bed. He observed the small pattern of sunlight that glinted on the rim and curled his lips inwards in thought.

Right now, I'm half-wishing I never told you I was going overseas on a business trip. If I hadn't, you wouldn't be in this condition.

Who was he kidding? Phoenix Wright, the man with a knack for finding out things meant to be kept secret, would have found out Miles was missing in action again and as per usual, would have found some way to get in touch with him. One thing would lead to another and well-gathered information would have led him to discover the exact time and date of Miles' arrival back in Los Angeles. Knowing that, Phoenix would have gone out of his way to meet up with him as soon as he got off the plane.

Okay, fine. I'm wishing that car had not been driving past when you got knocked onto the road. You would have been spared this.

"Nn..."

Or if it hadn't been raining, maybe. That would have worked out nicely too, come to think of it –

He froze, his eyes darting back to the other man's form on the bed. Did he just hear a noise coming from between those lips?

Phoenix's eyelids flickered a second time, causing Miles' eyebrows to arch towards his hairline unexpectedly.

"Phoe-"

There was another tiny moan of discomfort and the defence attorney slowly began to open his eyes, staring blearily up at the white ceiling. The prosecutor stared in shock as if witnessing a miracle being performed, his breath held and his upper body leaning forward to get closer.

Lifting and turning his head the tiniest fraction, the raven-haired man squinted at the surrounding room with a look of sleepy confusion plastered all over his sickly face.

"Huh?" Whad 'm I doing here... Where?"

"Y-you're... You're awake?" I can't express how relieved I am about this. "Phoenix, you're in... hospital."

As if startled by the idea of another human being in the same room as him, the bedridden lawyer flinched and finally focused on his visitor. Miles wondered how the other man even missed his appearance in the first place, but passed it off.

"Miles...? Miles! Uh – I... wait. Hospital...?" The sleepy drawl was immediately lost and replaced with a raised, worried tone. The familiarity of Phoenix's voice, which most of the time managed to sound either loud, panicked, excited or just plain sarcastic, was like music to the ears of the prosecutor at this point. Even if it did tend to grate on his nerves during other, less critical times.

"Yes. Don't move so much." Miles stood up, a little smile crossing his features which he found himself unable to prevent. Despite the unfortunate situation, he was incredibly happy that things had not turned out worse than this. "You had an unfortunate accident. But everything is going to be alright, now." Carefully, he bent over the bed to retrieve the glass of water he had been eyeing earlier. "Are you thirsty?"

"What are you doing here? And what accident?" Phoenix blurted out, ignoring his friend's considerate question and instead choosing to stare in bewilderment as if Miles had just confessed he was pregnant with twins.

Affronted, the older of the two placed the glass back down, backing away a little before sitting back down in the chair. "You were hit by a car," he answered bluntly without taking a breath, "And I'll have you know I'm here because I am actually concerned about you. Are there any objections?" A silvery stare bore into blue eyes with the sorely-missed intensity of the courtroom. The defence attorney found himself at a loss for words and sheepishly scratched his neck with the hand that wasn't splinted.

"O-oh... Oh yeah. I think I remember bits and pieces... Um. It was raining, I think?" Miles could tell by looking at that face that Phoenix was piecing together bits of the puzzle, his tongue slightly poked out between his teeth as he reminisced.

"It had been raining, yes." The prosecutor confirmed in a heartbeat, slightly mesmerised by how his rival's dishevelled hair seemed to accentuate his jawline.

This is the worst possible time to be admiring his looks. Especially when he's bruised and beaten after being hit by a car.

There was his brain again, chipping in and always reminding him not to think unnecessary things that did not pertain to the situation at hand.

"I'm guessing I broke my fingers, too?" Unaware of Miles' previous staring, Phoenix nodded down at his bound hand and looked back at the other man as if he were the doctor and not the visitor.

"Ah." Sifting through his memory to give the defence attorney a more detailed explanation for his splint, Miles sighed. "Fifth metacarpal on your left hand has a simple fracture, apparently. That was what your doctor told me when I visited last night."

"Oh. Damn." Disappointment loomed over the younger man. "Hang on. You visited last night, as well?"

"Do you insist on implying that I am a heartless person who does not care about your well-being?"

"N-no, of course not." Phoenix chuckled; a sound that made Miles' heart skip a beat and the corners of his mouth perk up slightly with the tiniest of smiles.

"Good."

There was an awkward pause, broken only when Phoenix decided to speak again. With his right hand, he clumsily fumbled with the bed sheets and looked down in what seemed to be embarrassment. This was confirmed as soon as his cheeks became flushed with a tint of rose out of nowhere.

"Thank you. F-for visiting me." Looking up again, his eyes softened as he stared at his companions' concerned face. "I'm sorry about all of this. If I hadn't landed myself in hospital we probably would have had gone out for dinner last night at some nice place after you got back."

"... It's alright." So he had wanted to have dinner together? Miles softly looked back at him, feeling his pulse race again. Even like this – sore and scratched and not exactly in ideal shape, the defence attorney's beautiful eyes never lost their brightness. Like two orbs blended with the very colour palette of the deep ocean, they surveyed Miles' every move; every facial twitch, as if looking for an answer to some sort of unasked question.

"I-I just realised something horrible!" The bedridden lawyer suddenly blurted out with a shocked expression, destroying the calmness between them in an instant.

"What?" Miles almost shouted, taken aback and frowning.

"This..." Phoenix looked down at his splint, dauntingly, "This is my objecting hand. How am I supposed to point and shout "OBJECTION!" now?"

"..."

And to think I almost expected him to tell me something LESS ridiculous.

There was a quiet sigh. "That's why you have two hands, Phoenix?"

"It's just not the same."

"Oh, for crying out loud -"

"How long will it take to heal?"

"If you stop fussing over it, considerably less time than you think."

"Oh yeah, Miles. That's incredibly informative. You're a lawyer, you're not meant to be vague!"

"... Where do you spout your words from? Your behind?"

"H-hey!"

The sound of a door opening ceased the pointless quarrel almost immediately. Both men looked up at whoever entered the room, their faces contorted in strange, irritable expressions, almost identical if it weren't for the fact that one of the faces was bruised.

"Oh, what a surprise!" Good morning, Mr Wright." A stocky nurse with braided, dark brown hair looked at the pair of them and smiled widely, showing small, gapped teeth. "Glad to see you're awake." She lifted an eyebrow slightly at his expression. "How are you feeling?"

"I – he started it." Phoenix looked up at the ceiling, feigning innocence.

Ignoring the childish accusation, Miles spoke to the woman directly. "He's being argumentative, just like his old self. So I'd say he's feeling wonderful." His voice dripped with false excitement.

"Um... well, that's great!" The nurse scuffled over and gently adjusted Phoenix's pillows for him, much to the defence attorney's relief.

"Ah, my neck was kinda sore. Thanks!"

"Mm-hmm. I'm going to check your readings..." The nurse turned a page on her small clipboard and jotted down a few figures as she read the monitor to the side. "Very good... You seem to be recovering nicely."

"Well, what do you expect? Phoenix Wright isn't defeated that easily. Even when hit by a car!" The injured lawyer grinned to himself, earning a look of utmost confusion from Miles.

"It's strange how you evade death more often than you manage to live through one day completely unscathed." He mumbled from the corner of his mouth, audible only to the other man.

"Yeah, yeah. Love you too, Miles." A small snicker, slightly croaky from fatigue.

"... Excuse me?"

Don't go blurting out things like that! E-even if they are only meant to display your already-obvious talent at sarcasm!

"Hm?" The nurse looked up, eyes widened questioningly. "What is it?"

"Ah – erm... N-no, sorry I was talking to him." The seated attorney looked to the side and shot a disapproving glare at his friend, who simply sent him a sheepish grin in return.

"Oh. Okay." The nurse returned to her duties, humming away to herself as if nothing happened.

Miles, tempted to sharply pinch Phoenix's injured hand, refrained from doing so and instead folded his arms crossly and turned his head to the side.

Why, of all the nerve! Why do I bother getting emotional over you when you're unconscious, yet I can't stand you during the majority of your waking hours? Not too long ago I wanted to hear your voice and now I wish to stick a plug down your throat...

A light touch on his forearm caught his attention and he turned again to see Phoenix gazing at him with smiling eyes.

"Stop frowning. I'm just trying to show you I'm going to be okay." He squeezed the other man's sleeve and let his arm flop back down to rest at his side.

An unstoppable blush crept onto Miles' cheeks and he quickly looked away. "F-fine."

He's joking around like he used to. Of course he'll be alright.

The nurse, plainly unaware of what was going on, proceeded to check her patient's pulse and temperature manually as Miles timidly observed from the corner of his eye, as if watching something he was not supposed to be drawing attention to.

"You can look, you know. You remind me of when we were kids and you'd hide your eyes whenever a kissing scene came on television unexpectedly." Phoenix exclaimed, rubbing it in with a smile as the nurse stepped back and readjusted the position of the intravenous stand.

"I did not hide my eyes!" Miles hissed. "I just turned away."

Much like I'm doing now, in fact. I've seen enough of your face for one morning. Really.

"Whatever, Mr Perfect Prosecutor..." There was a laugh and Miles felt his ears prickle in irritation.

"You might scare away your visitors if you keep making fun of them!" The nurse intervened good-naturedly, smiling again and addressing Phoenix with the same tone of voice a kindergarten teacher would use on raucous students.

"Nah, he's used to it." Phoenix replied pleasantly, nudging the other man playfully. "He's my best friend. He was so worried about me that he decided to stay and watch over me as I slept!"

Miles looked very unamused.

Now you're just making me sound like that strange teenage vampire from that book one of my witnesses kept ranting to me about during an interview. Please stop.

"Wright. Might I suggest you stop blurting out nonsense? It's as if your concussion kicked out your ability to think before you speak." Actually, I don't think he had that ability to begin with, now that I look back on everything. "You remind me of Butz."

"Why isn't Larry here anyway? Or Maya?"

"I didn't exactly have time to round up the entire city to visit you this morning. Not when I was already worrying enough as it was to think outside my concern for you."

I probably should have alerted more people. But he doesn't need a party in his ward right now. I'll inform Miss Fey in due time. I don't want her worrying herself into a panic at her age. She's been through enough.

"Speaking of his mild concussion," The nurse once again made herself recognised after disappearing beneath the stream of snappy comments being baton-passed between the two men, "It's a good sign you don't seem to be displaying any severe damage from the impact. You're quite stable and coherent."

Oh, he's coherent, alright. A little too much for my liking, actually.

"Just take it easy for now, anyway. You'll probably be discharged from hospital soon but you still need to take things at a calmer pace until you fully recover. Your friend might have to assist you in case you feel dizzy or experience other symptoms, okay?" She looked at Miles, expectantly. "Is that alright with you, sir?"

"It's no problem." Miles responded quickly, his soft-spot for the defence attorney unexpectedly getting the better of him once more. "I'll take care of him until he is completely healed."

Poor fool doesn't exactly have anybody else to assist him right now.

"Thank you. You're a great help. We'll make sure he's stable enough before being discharged, of course." Flashing them another smile, the nurse excused herself from the ward and left.

As soon as she was out of earshot, Miles sighed loudly and rested his forehead upon the fingertips of his left hand, using his right arm for support.

"If you don't want to help out, you don't have to." Phoenix stated dryly, noting the frustration.

"I – it's not that." Miles raised his head and stared. "I just don't approve of you blurting out puerile remarks in the presence of another person."

"Puerile? Like what?"

There was a pause of precisely 4.2 seconds before the defence lawyer understood.

"Ohhhh. You mean when I said: "Love you too, Miles." That?"

…

And so he brings it up again, word for word. Lovely.

"That's... exactly what I was referring to." The grey-haired man looked away shyly, trying to pass it off as another irritable sideways glance.

Why am I so worked up over that? It's not like he meant the bloody sentence when he said it.

"So... If I say it to you when there is no other person present, does that mean it's okay?"

What.

"What?" Miles faced him again, eyes widening and pale irises reflecting every inch of his fellow attorney's face.

"Funny. I didn't know you needed a hearing aid at your age."

"Shut up, Wright. I heard what you said. I just -"

"I'm joking." Phoenix muttered. "Of course I'm not going to blurt out "I love you" in private. That would be kind of... gay. Don't you think?" He let out another laugh, except it sounded awkward and forced.

"... Hmm." Miles narrowed his eyes and frowned. "Not that it's any of my business, but do you have something against homosexual people or am I misinterpreting your words?"

"Huh?"

"You sound as if the idea of two people of the same sex being in a relationship is disgusting to you - "

"Wha – no! No no no! I didn't mean that at all!" Phoenix frantically tried to reason with him, flinching a little as he accidentally moved his injured hand a bit more than he should have. "Ow!"

Miles leaned closer in concern. "Idiot, you're not supposed to move that hand too much."

"Well thank you, Admiral Apparent." Phoenix huffed and rolled his eyes, nursing his hand pointlessly. "What I was going to say, was that I don't have anything against gay people. Okay? I just didn't want you to think I was hitting on you or whatever. Because I'm not." And with that, the defence attorney nervously looked away, focusing intently on an empty bed opposite the room.

… The thought never crossed my mind, Phoenix...

Yet, even mentally reassuring himself that it didn't, Miles couldn't help but feel disheartened.