Apollo can still hear the way he told Trucy about what was in the vial which betrayed him, yet also can't believe he somehow came clean about it all. He didn't have to: he could've lied. Hell, he could've followed Clay's exit door and never told her about it all, and everything would have been much simpler. It'd have also been much, much safer: he doesn't know where such information can end and, as such, how it can be used (more likely for harm than for good, if he's to trust his previous experiences).

And yet, he told who, up until now, was just his boss's over-affectionate daughter, about the one secret has hasn't let see the light of day in years, for some reason entrusting her with the darkest stain on his medical records. He either doesn't value his life at all or the complete opposite. At this point, even if his fever's been chipped off a little thanks to way too many medicine types for him to keep track off at the moment, he really doesn't know anymore.

(He should feel so much more anxious, so much more paranoid about it; and yet it doesn't come. The sudden bliss stresses him out).

The last few days have been… hectic, to say the least. He couldn't have seen it coming, really. Getting sick is already not something that happens to him often, let alone going to work in such a state: really, it's because he needs to pay rent, nothing else. He just acted irrationally so he could afford living expenses and there is really nothing else to it, nothing. If he found himself tangled with the Wrights again, it's because they love to get involved with other people's personal business. If Clay got involved, it's because he searched for it. He didn't have anything to say about it, as always. It's always been the same.

Except it… sounds fake. He can't say as if it nothing has changed when everything has been turned upside down in less than a week. Monday he was just sick with a killer flu, and now he's his boss's daughter's half-brother, they met Clay in circumstances he had no control whatsoever over, and to top it all off, they now know he's trans. Really, Monday wasn't his day and, since then, the ball's kept rolling and rolling, and he's afraid to know where it's going to stop, where their acceptance is going to stop.

Why do they even care so much? Clay and he have grown up together, they're closer than brothers, he understands water can be thicker than blood and Clay cares because they've only had each other for the longest time. There is no reason for his employer and his kid to give a single crap about him aside from making sure he's actually a good enough attorney for their agency. Sure, he knows Phoenix Wright is a loving man from the people he's defended and that's why he's such a fan of the man – but to the point of personally making sure he's fine? Apollo really doesn't get it.

The orphanage wasn't like that. Mr Gavin wasn't like that.

Why do they even care to begin with? He's just an employee, an associate. He doesn't need to be fathered by his boss, he doesn't need to be buddy-buddy with his daughter, he just needs a salary. They don't need to be the moral support he's secretly been craving for a decade or so. He was fine with having one friend and feeling alone when Clay wasn't there: what's different now? Did…

Please don't tell him he's gotten attached to them.

No, no, that can't be! They're like all the others, like all the people who aren't Clay, like all the other people in his life: they either didn't have time for him, never loved him or discarded him once he started to become an inconvenience. He can't get attached to people: it'll hurt when the inevitable will happen and they'll leave him behind. He won't get hurt again. He'll be fine, on his own or with his friend by his side. He'll all be fine, all okay. He doesn't need anyone but Clay's company!

…except he does. Deep down he must know he's in search for more company, for more people to connect with, for warmth. Clay is his brother, but he's got a sister too, now, and a new father, technically speaking. He can't shove Trucy to the side as "his boss's daughter", now. In a way, it's reassuring him that he has a family somewhere, but even then, what tells him they're not going to do the same thing that his parents did? Dad died and Mom just left him with one bracelet and that was it. He named himself. He made himself.

God, what can't he just go back to the way things were not even a week ago! He was fine separating his personal and professional lives just fine: Mr Wright was his boss, Trucy his "assistant" and part-time amateur magician, and they were just doing law stuff in a law firm who also doubled as a talent agency because the Wrights are just like that and he's gotten used to the wacky hijinks. It was so much simpler when it was just that: professional life. Much simpler, but much colder…

But then, he got ill, too ill for comfort, and it only went downhill from there. Clay and he had an extensive conversation about it, with his best friend arguing it was fine to have friends on the workplace, that he could trust people he knew more than he pretended he did. Apollo argued his best against it, putting forward the idea that he couldn't predict what Trucy could do and that Mr Wright was always too busy to take care of a second person as if they were his child.

Apollo didn't even manage to convince himself without being confronted by the people he was talking about. What's clear to him is that it would have only been worse in that regard if he was trying to do it now.

He can tell Trucy's been tense ever since she entered his room, today. His health has improved tremendously ever since the doctor in charge of him pinpointed what was eating away at his lungs, so he doubts she's stressed about him not making it. He'd have thought she'd be back to her usual cheerful self, rambling about tricks and asking him to be her guinea pig for the third time this week. He'd have accepted with a moue as if it bothered him but would have secretly been pleased to see her smile.

"What's wrong?" He tentatively asks, his throat not appreciating the gesture much and sending him into a coughing fit. He may be able to breathe again, he's still not out of the park. Being stuck in the hospital for one more day kind of serves as a reminder of that.

He's still processing it, truth be told. Today is the first day where he can say he's fully conscious of what he says and thinks, mostly thanks to his fever breaking, so he's got to deal with the idea that Trucy isn't just a colleague. She's not even just a friend: she's his sister. They have common blood and neither of them knew until this fateful week. Talk about a turnabout, really is something only someone like Phoenix Wright could pull off.

He's been strangely comfortable with the idea of being her older brother, despite his crippling issues with trusting people. So far, she's one of the few people who hasn't betrayed him. Her tender tears and warming words must have made something shift inside his mind to finally trust people enough to ask Clay's opinion on the matter and, finally, admit to himself thanks to his friend's help that there is no harm in finally believing in other persons.

"H-ha, nothing's wrong," Trucy badly lies with a bright smile. She must be really bothered by whatever is haunting her mind to be this bad at hiding. "It's just… this test we're having next week… I'm not very good at history…"

"Please tell me the truth, Trucy."

If she's going to lie to him, he'll go back on his decision. He needs to prevent that from happening no matter the cost, or else…

"It's…" She continues fiddling with his bracelet as she looks down, biting on a word. "It's about the other day."

Ah, it's less worrisome than he thought, then. He expected the topic would come back up at least once despite the discomfort this is already bringing him.

"You probably know what I meant," he starts, slow and mindful of his throat for the first time in a while. "I can answer your questions, if it helps."

"N-no, it's not about… about you-know-what! That can wait, I… I'm concerned, that's it, but I mean, everyone would be concerned for someone they love when they're sick!"

"You're bad at lying, today, Trucy."

She lets go of the façade once and for all, revealing the intensity of her worry on her face.

"Why do you hide so much from everyone, Polly?"

Today's the day, huh. Time to open the floodgates, then. He isn't escaping her grasp now, nor does he want to: he's tired of running away from his feelings. He'd rather bury his issues and trauma once and for all.

"I… I guess it's just come naturally to me, after a while. I've… been afraid of abandonment for such a long time that I slowly decided connecting with people wasn't worth the trouble if it meant being left again and again and again."

It's not like him to be this open, but that's what Clay encouraged him to do and, on second thought, if he ignores the nagging feeling of potential betrayal looming over him (as always), it soothes him to finally come clean about it all, even if his interlocutor is a fifteen-year-old girl who deserves better than to be his impromptu therapist.

"I think I get it," she replies with a little smile. "I was like this too before I opened up to Daddy. I pretended to be all happy when I was hurting inside. Now that I know I have Daddy and you, Polly, I feel better, but I've never managed to tell anyone but Daddy about it. It's hard to trust people again when you keep getting thrown around."

He can vaguely remember them having this talk before, but his memories are too hazy to really give him a firm impression of them. Maybe they're just repeating themselves.

"But it's fine, you know? You've been hurt and now you want to protect yourself from possible danger. It hurt when you pushed me away and tried to pretend like everything was okay when we could tell it wasn't, but I get it, and it's fine. Daddy and I just want you to know we won't ever abandon you, no matter what. You've got us, Polly," her voice breaks a little on the ending note. "but I don't know how to convince you of that…"

She may not have noticed, but she's been holding one of his hand with both of hers. They're not even gloved: in fact, she's dressed very casually, today. It feels weird but he likes it better this way. She looks like a normal girl with all the problems a girl her age would have in her life, not like the magician who's trying to pretend she's an adult when she doesn't want to be.

"I don't think you can do that with words," he replies while he silently doubts the fact he even distrusts them more and more. "It's that sort of things you prove with acts."

"Then, what can Daddy and I do?"

She sounds so adamant, so determined, that his distrust wavers even further. He's conflicted over the weird sort of relief it's providing him with. Not in his habits, he figures.

"I think you've… done enough. I'll just have to get used to it."

Trucy looks aside, silent, for a couple minutes, before her grip on his hand gaining in strength prompts him to finally look back at her. He sees determination and empathy in her eyes, not pity like he sometimes gets from the people who can sense his loneliness and, if he didn't need to be the older sibling, he'd be moved to tears right now. He must be exhausted from the mental fight against his want for human affection, if he's this easily affected.

"I don't want you to hide things from us anymore like this! We almost lost you because you didn't want to tell us you felt bad! I only want you to know you can lean on us when you feel bad because it's a normal thing to do! I may not have gone through the same things as you have, and I may have had it easier than you did, but that doesn't mean I can't empathize. Everything's going to be fine in the end, from now on, okay? It won't always be fine, but we don't have to pretend like it is."

She sounds too mature for a teenager and he's flabbergasted by how close to him her words are; but he's fine with it. It's just par for the course.

"…you're right."

Before she can say anything, he pulls her against him from the other side of the bed, finally basking in the warmth he's been missing for so long. He's afraid he'll get repelled away because he didn't ask for any sort of permission, but Trucy doesn't pull away and, instead, strengthens their embrace with her own arms. He didn't notice until now how truly touch-starved he's been.

They've got a lot to tell each other, he knows it, and there is still a lot he has to deal with on his plate in every single aspect, from repressed feelings to the feeling of weakness he needs to get rid of; but, for the first time in forever, things feel like they're brightening up. Let him heal from the pneumonia and recover some strength, and they'll get there, sooner or later.

He just needs to believe in other people and the future, for once, now that he can leave his past behind.