A/N: I certainly didn't think I'd return to this, or the fandom, but it's a lot of fun to write if I can get focused. ^_^ I just wish I would stop having such insecurities over writing :/

To anyone who reads this and still supports this story, I thank you very much. 3 I hope this chapter has been worth the wait. I don't want to disappoint :(

It was plainly apparent to him the instant the convoy of cop cars screeched to a halt in front of the prospective location that this was not the right place. It was an office building ten-stories high. Gumshoe seemed to lose his excited vigor from the sight of it just as quickly as Edgeworth's optimism was fizzling out, yet he led the charge inside as he would with any other bust.

While the dozen officers completed their search of the building in its entirety, Edgeworth wandered to one of the benches by the circular fountain in front of the entrance. This lead was bogus; whether it was done by one of the culprits themselves as a way to taunt them or if it was someone who'd meant well but was clearly mistaken – it was impossible to know. Watching the water flow tranquilly within the stone basin, he felt the much hated and foreign urge to weep. Phoenix wasn't here. They were no closer to finding him.

Thunder grumbled in the distance, and it began to sprinkle. Edgeworth did not move. By the time Gumshoe took a seat next to him almost an hour later, he was decently saturated.

"We didn't find him," the detective said glumly. "I'm sorry."

The prosecutor was mute, staring blankly ahead.

For what felt like ages, they sat in silence, the light rain shower wetting their clothes and chilling their skin. Gumshoe fidgeted every now and then, obviously uncomfortable by the intense stillness, but stayed put, knowing that the other man could use a friendly presence right now.

"It's odd, don't you think?" Edgeworth finally asked quietly, causing Gumshoe to jerk upright from his previously slouched position.

"Uh….what's odd, sir?" He wasn't sure what he'd missed, and Edgeworth's expression was void of any type of emotion or thought that might grant him a clue.

"He's been missing for a month. Nothing was taken from his apartment. Nothing was stolen from his office. Everything was left intact."

"Yeah?"

"The person knew when he was alone. They most likely knew the security cameras weren't working. They made sure he disappeared without a trace, leaving not so much as a crumb for us to find. It all bears the mark of someone well-versed in carrying out such devious plans."

"Why would they choose him?" Picking up on Edgeworth's last sentence, Gumshoe quickly turned to him and exclaimed, "You don't think it was that Shelly de Killer guy, do you?!"

Edgeworth shook his head. "No. If it had been him, we would've already heard his demands and found his calling card. That is what's so strange about all of this, what has been bothering me the most. They haven't requested a single thing. Not money. Not fame. Nothing. Those pictures weren't meant to incite a trade deal. They were sent to boast about their achievement. To show off. Whoever has him….they're not looking to get anything in exchange for him. They want to play. His life is their game, and the second they grow bored of it…."

"We'll find him," Gumshoe said steadfastly, despite the logical reasoning the prosecutor had presented. "Someone had to have seen something that night but just too scared to come forward. We'll catch a break. We have to. We can't let him down."

Turning his head upward to let the water cleanse his face, Edgeworth fought down his emotional response to the words and allowed himself to reveal the tiniest hint of a smile. "Yes….I suppose you're right, detective….There is still hope yet."

They stayed for a bit longer before retreating to the squad car.

I can't let you down, Phoenix. Not after everything you did for me. I owe it to you to keep fighting. Please stay strong.

While every inch of his body felt as if it was being viciously squeezed like someone crushing a lemon in their hand, his head felt like it'd been split wide open, and he imagined the contents seeping into the fabric of the dirty mattress under him. The faint noise that he barely heard sounded too pathetic to have come from him, though he knew it had. He never understood how someone could wish for death, would be in so much pain to take their own life, but he was starting to now.

Whatever signals his brain was trying to send, his limbs wouldn't cooperate. Not like he knew if his brain was fully functional anymore anyway. The excruciating agony engulfing his cranium was enough to make him question whether he'd dropped several IQ points. Unable to send the message to move, speech was alluding him as well, and the only thought he could focus on was how much pain he was in and desperately begging for the powers that be to end it. The profound shame he had lingered underneath it all, waiting to devour him after the physical anguish subsided.

As he woke from his lengthy slumber, eyes still swollen shut, Phoenix was utterly helpless and couldn't remember a time feeling as broken – inside and out – as he did at this moment. If they returned, he couldn't even see them approaching, let alone have a failed attempt at trying to defend himself. He was as vulnerable as a poor butterfly caught in a web, the spider keeping it alive to suffer in vain before mercifully feeding.

He was forgetting the true spider was still weaving the web from afar, his peril fueling her thirst for retribution. The more savagery he endured, the better for getting what she so madly wanted.

With his senses adjusting to more than just the aching, there was a faint odor of something unpleasant. It didn't take long to comprehend what it was, and he felt ill from extreme embarrassment. The insides of his thighs were wet, the mattress and blanket atop him damp with urine.

No way. This can't be happening….It's a dream. Please be a dream….

He attempted to sit up, though only managed to barely lift himself before he started to whimper and abandoned the endeavor. The noise and movement roused Paige, who pulled away and spoke quietly, "Phoenix? What's wrong?"

Not realizing his caretaker was still present, the humiliation now quadrupled, and he felt sickeningly wretched when a couple of tears leaked from the corners of his eyes.

I'm so fucking pathetic. Can it get any worse? I wet my own bed. I wouldn't have been able to get up to go to the bathroom even if I'd been awake when it happened. It's not like he won't notice. And I don't want to lie here more unclean than I have to be….

"I'm sorry," were the only two words he could manage to verbalize.

Taking a moment to look Phoenix up and down, Paige eventually saw the dark spot on the blanket where the urine had soaked through. "Oh," he said quietly.

"I'm sorry." He must think I'm so disgusting. I can't imagine how hideous I look, how he saw them…. He deliberately skipped over the descriptive words that came to mind, refusing to acknowledge the truth of what they'd done to him. ….And now….I wet myself. This can't be happening….I just want to go home….Forget any of this ever happened….

When the comforting warmth and concealment of the blanket was removed, he shivered moreso from lying utterly exposed than being affected by the temperature of the room. The fact Paige had already seen him naked and in a state of total degradation didn't occur to him; the self-consciousness was immeasurable as he pictured the younger man staring at him, repulsed.

"I'll be right back," Paige assured.

I ruined the blanket. Uncontrollable tears streamed from the corners of his eyes as he understood the consequences. I finally got something to keep me warm, and I ruined it. Who knows if he'll give me another one? You're such an idiot, Phoenix. What else do you want to fuck up? This is all your fault. All of it. Everything. How could you be so stupid?

He started to take a deep breath, yet in just seconds his ribs reminded him that doing so was a bad idea.

I want to go home….I just want to go home….Please….

He heard Paige settle beside him once more a minute later and swallowed hard, hoping to calm himself down before the stress of everything got him too worked up.

"Phoenix, I….Is it okay if, um…." Paige fumbled over his words, trying to find the best way to approach the situation. "How….Do you….Is it okay if I clean you up? Down there? Or can you do it yourself? It's okay if you can't. I can only imagine how much pain you're in…."

Though he fervently prayed he'd be able to lift his arm and bathe his soiled genitals and thighs, Phoenix was yet again thrown into a world of enormous indignity when he had to accept he just didn't have any strength within him to do even the simplest of tasks. He had nothing to give at this moment, couldn't raise his hand to his face to wipe the tears away, let alone attempt washing himself.

This isn't real….This isn't happening….It has to be a dream….They didn't….They didn't do that to me….And I can't be this weak….What's wrong with me? Why is this happening to me? I didn't hurt her….Why are they doing this?...

"I'll try not to touch you more than I have to, okay?" Paige said honestly.

When the wet washcloth caressed the underside of his soft member, Phoenix's lips quivered as he silently wept. Other than the act of being raped multiple times in front of a crowd, there wasn't a memory that came to mind that had him feeling anywhere near as mortified and disgraced as he currently did. Nothing more was said as Paige gently scrubbed and cleaned the area between his legs. He had no idea there were traces of dried semen left on his cock from his forced orgasm that Paige was now also wiping away.

"Almost done. You're doing great."

I can't show my face around anyone I know ever again. Not after all this. They'd never look at me the same….

….And Miles….

He hiccupped a breath as he thought of his close friend whom he'd always yearned for more with, understanding for good that it would never be possible.

….We'll never have another date together….I'm thankful for the times you said 'yes,' even though I know you never considered them actual dates….

"All done," Paige announced after a bit. "I think we need to get you off the mattress though so it can dry. Are you up for that?"

I don't think I can move…. Despite what his thoughts were, Phoenix nodded slightly.

"Okay. It might be best if you just scoot this way instead of me trying to lift you. I'm not that strong," he ended with a small smile, attempting to lighten the mood by admitting his weakness.

It was a laborious process, every movement of his body shooting a bolt of pain throughout him and intensifying the throbbing. This tiny physical exertion eventually had him breathing as if he was running a race, his cracked ribs spawning tears in his eyes from every dreaded inhale. The lower half of him was beyond sore, and as embarrassing as the thought was, he was grateful to be lying down and not forced to sit up because he knew it would be remarkably uncomfortable. His whole face and skull pulsated, and he almost thought his head was leaking before rational thought told him it was the tears breaking free from under his eyelids once again.

During all this, Paige murmured words of support and encouragement, stopping himself from touching him in fear of somehow making it worse or startling him. He hid his alarm well at the sight of the decent-sized dried pool of blood and semen that had soaked into the fabric as a result of the multiple, unforgiving penetrations.

The concrete was cold against Phoenix's naked skin, and while he would've preferred to have his coat covering him from the waist down, Paige instead folded it neatly to tuck under his head. It was probably better this way, considering how tender it was; the solid surface would've surely aggravated his migraine from Hell even more.

Flipping the dingy, lightweight mattress over onto its opposite side, Paige stated, "At least once it's dry, you don't have to lie on that spot. But…it does look like it soaked through a little….Best to stay off it for now. Don't need to get yourself dirty again." Kneeling beside the broken defense attorney, he hesitantly rested his palm gently against Phoenix's forehead and petted his hair. "I have to go. I don't know when I'll be back. Hang in there, okay? I'm….I'm so sorry, Phoenix," he ended in a whisper, struggling to contain the urge to weep.

The fear of being alone, of being helpless should the others return, had Phoenix's heart skipping a beat. "Please don't go," he pleaded weakly. With his bottom lip quivering, he repeated, "Please. Please don't leave me."

Paige closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and said regretfully, "I have to. I'm sorry."

He got up quickly and practically ran out of the basement, the quiet whimpers and whispered, "Please" replaying over and over in his ears long after he had left.

They were relying on his vision being non-existent for the time being as they stealthily entered the basement prison. The five of them stifled their unsympathetic laughter upon discovering that the victim's eyes were indeed extensively swollen and bruised and would surely not be opening anytime soon. The bandages Paige had used hid their previous work, which Hunter was disappointed to not see how the new name carved into his arm was looking.

Lemming flicked the unconscious man's flaccid member, and the five of them snickered at the lack of response. Removing a cold, slimy hot dog from the package he'd brought, Hunter commenced rubbing it on Phoenix's battered face. More snickering ensued as the raw wiener tenderly assaulted his tranquil countenance. It eventually found itself between his lips, simulating him sucking on it as Hunter slid it in and out of his mouth.

"Get him hard," he whispered with a devilish glint in his eyes. "I have an idea."

Lemming gruffly took hold of Phoenix and rubbed his hand along his shaft in a steady rhythm. While there was no indication the defense attorney felt any of it, his body received the message.

"Keep going 'til he comes."

It took several minutes before semen ultimately spurted from the tip. Lemming angled the hardened member so that the warm liquid splashed onto Phoenix's stomach, and he wiped what had spilled over onto his hand onto the man's abdomen as well. Taking the hot dog, Hunter rolled it around in the ejaculate to coat it liberally and returned it to the victim's mouth.

"Hey Phoenix!" Hunter shouted and shoved him.

Phoenix feebly groaned, and Hunter could tell he was awake from the movement of his eyes under the black and purple eyelids.

"We've got a treat for you. Why don't you go ahead and eat it? You must be hungry."

As Phoenix's senses adjusted, he could indeed feel something foul in his mouth. He weakly raised his hand to remove it, though Hunter intercepted and commanded, "Ah ah, now that's not nice. We're giving you something to eat. You should be grateful."

Phoenix couldn't figure out what the food item was, but he recognized the flavor and texture of semen from when he was forced to consume it previously.

"Mmmm," he whined softly, lifting his other hand to get it out. Packe pinned his arm down roughly.

"Listen to that, he likes it!" Hunter teased. "You should. After all, it's your cum."

Phoenix slowly shook his head, careful to not rattle his brain too much.

"Come on, Feenie. It's not polite to decline a gift," Hunter warned.

Hearing the implication that something far worse might be in store for him should he refuse anymore, Phoenix reluctantly started to chew. The hardest part was swallowing while lying down, and more than once, he feared he'd choke on the bite as it traversed his throat.

"There's a good boy," Hunter cooed. "You like a nice, long wiener, don't you?"

The five of them cackled, which became even more callous when they saw the tear droplets sliding down to his hair.

"There you go," Hunter said once he was finished. "Didn't that taste good? We know you must be starving. Since you like dick so much, surely we can help you out more often. How about more right now?"

Oh god, no, Phoenix inwardly panicked, his breathing accelerating. Please no. I can't….I can't. It hurts. Please….not again….

"You're getting excited, aren't you? Listen to that. He's already panting and shaking like an addict. And here I thought I was punishing you for what you did to her. Turns out you like being raped, is that it? Phoenix Wright, everyone's ace attorney, gets off on being raped. How more deviant can you get, you sick fuck?"

"P-Please," Phoenix whispered beseechingly. "Don't. It hurts."

"Awww, it still hurts? I guess we did ram you pretty hard. But first times always hurt, don't they? Now that we broke you in, you should be fine. Think of all the experience you're getting for the dignified Miles Edgeworth. That is, if he'd ever take a slut like you."

Phoenix's lips began trembling, his heartbeat thudding loudly in his ears, as he heard and sensed movement. He was too weak to struggle whatsoever, freely allowing his arms to be outstretched above his head, hands firmly grasping his wrists to pin them to the floor. His ankles were gripped strongly by two others, spreading his legs wide to allow someone to settle between them. His guess of who was confirmed when Hunter said, "I love making you squeal, Wrong. Surely you can be loud like last time, hm?"

This can't be happening….Not again….Please, god….Someone find me….Paige….Anyone….

The tears came in abundance as he felt Hunter's cock start to prod his tender backside. He fidgeted, a pitiful attempt at protesting what was to be done to his body and mind, only bringing about insensitive laughter from the five of them.

"There there, Feenie. Maybe I'll indulge you and be gentle this time."

Numerous powerful thrusts proved otherwise as Hunter forced his cock inside of him, causing Phoenix to cry out after each one.

"Then again, I love hearing you scream."

It was late afternoon when Edgeworth's concentration was interrupted by a knock on his office door. He was in the middle of compiling his witnesses and prepared arguments for a trial two days from now, and while he still had sufficient time to prepare, the disruption was unwelcomed.

Giving an annoyed sigh, he called, "Yes? Come in."

His patience dwindled quickly at the sight of Gumshoe apprehensively entering.

"This had better be important, detective. I am quite busy at the moment."

"Well sir, I…." Gumshoe rubbed the back of his head, his nervousness on a level Edgeworth hadn't ever seen before.

"What is it?"

"Sir, I…." He hesitantly stepped toward the prosecutor's desk. His expression was one of such immense distress, it rivaled that of someone about to deliver news of a person's death to a loved one. "We got something at the precinct earlier today. It, uh…."

Without him finishing the sentence, Edgeworth knew what it involved, making his heart drop to the pit of his stomach and his mouth incredibly dry.

Taking a deep breath and letting it out gradually, Gumshoe pressed on bravely. "It's Phoenix."

"Yes?" Edgeworth prodded gently, his eagerness nearly causing him to explode.

"We, uh….We got this." He held up a jewel case with a disc inside and said, "They didn't think it'd be a good idea to tell you, but….I think you need to see it."

"See it? What is it?" Oh god, Phoenix is dead. They filmed it. They filmed his execution. He's dead.

"Just….Here."

There was no hiding the fact his hands were shaking as Edgeworth reached for the disc. He inserted it into his computer and was just about to press play when Gumshoe piped up once again.

"Sir?"

"Yes?"

"It's….very disturbing. We didn't even make it through all of it."

Preparing himself as best he could, Edgeworth turned his focus to the monitor and clicked the play button. Almost immediately, he wanted to stop it. Phoenix was on his knees, horrendously beaten and bloodied, with someone fastening a belt around his neck. For the most part, the person was blurred and the voice was distorted to the point it would be impossible to match it to anyone. Only Phoenix was left un-edited, his bruises and the sound of his whimpers crystal clear.

"No," Edgeworth breathed, his entire body in shock. "This can't….This can't be."

His fingers twitched as Phoenix's boxers were removed, his heart and mind shattering as the person harshly penetrated his friend, causing Phoenix to scream continuously behind the duct tape covering his mouth.

It can't be….They didn't….Oh god, what have they done to you….This isn't real. This has to be fake….It was staged….

The prosecutor's eyes remained fixed on the screen, refusing to look away as the graphic footage revealed his rival and friend being repeatedly raped. He didn't even feel his cheeks becoming wet, simply blinking the tears away to clear his vision while he watched in silence. Gumshoe glanced away multiple times, unable to stomach the atrocious treatment. There were very few cutaways in the video, leaving it to showcase the event faithfully in its lengthy, appalling entirety.

Phoenix….I….I'm so sorry….I've failed you….This can't be real….This can't be you….

For a long while after the screen went black, Edgeworth continued to stare at the monitor, his eyes wide and waiting for more. He was trembling, his emotions running the gamut and his brain unable to comprehend anything, including speech.

"Sir?" Gumshoe at last spoke gently. He waited a minute before asking again, "Edgeworth?"

Slowly, the prosecutor turned his chair so that he was facing the detective. He lifted his gaze and looked upon Gumshoe like a helpless, lost child. Nothing but a choked noise escaped his throat before his shoulders shook and he broke down in sobs. Without hesitation, Gumshoe hugged him. To his surprise, Edgeworth didn't shove him away or berate him. Instead, the typically stony prosecutor clutched the detective's coat and wept openly against his torso. There was nothing to be said. No words could make either one of them feel better about what they'd seen. They cried together, lamenting their failure to help their beloved friend.

Neither ever spoke of this moment to anyone, or one another, for it was a moment both wished to erase from existence and never remember for the rest of their lives.