trace (vestiges)
He should not be here, that much is certain; the afternoon sunlight does Phoenix no favours, casting his face in an almost jaundiced hue as he struggles to maintain his balance upon shifting, muddy soil. Miles grips his elbow, glancing around nervously. There are so many eyewitnesses present, such that if he were to step forward and confront Phoenix properly (hold him, keep him upright, take him to sit in Miles' car and ensure that he has all the food and drink and medicine and warmth he could need to recover until Miles can take him home) he knows that the focus of the case would shift away from the search for Maya and Pearl.
They have priorities. Rebuilding the bridge and finding the Feys is of utmost importance.
So, he stays his hand and bites back the desire to march Phoenix back down the mountain. How the man had managed to bus up here in his pathetic condition, still sweating and exhausted, is absolutely baffling to Miles. Leave it to Wright to pull something like this.
Still, the determination in Phoenix's large, dark eyes cannot be denied. Miles' heart aches as he sees that fire burning deep within, smoldering with an intensity that has burned Miles from across the courtroom many times before. He has seen it time and time again, after all.
Phoenix Wright should be in the hospital still. Despite his ongoing fever, however, all the man will allow himself to do is investigate the case. Miles quietly murmurs that he can continue to act as the defense attorney the next day, that Phoenix should rest- but the other man does not take his advice, merely praising Miles for his efforts and thanking him for a job 'well done'.
Miles feels as if it is anything but. Nothing has been resolved. Iris is simply not burned with a 'guilty' brand… yet.
There is no convincing Phoenix otherwise, however. That heat in his gaze belies the same fervour, the same passion, which he had carried within himself whilst defending Miles those years earlier during the DL-6 incident. A part of Miles knows that it is reassuring, that Phoenix shall manage to get the case wrapped up with more than enough time to spare if he is this focused-
And yet, a part of him cannot help but want to protest. Phoenix is pushing himself beyond all limits for Iris, not for Miles. It is petty, and it feels shameful, but as his fingers clenched into the sleeve of his jacket with such fervour he wonders whether the material shall tear, he cannot help but admit that this brewing jealousy is only growing stronger.
It… he wants to banish it.
So, he asks Phoenix again about Iris. It is clear that she is hiding something- after scolding Phoenix lightly about the Magatama and its powers, Miles confesses that he had seen no Psycholocks upon Iris' form regarding the death of Elise Deauxnim. "They do, however, appear whenever I bring you up," he comments softly, well out of earshot from the detective.
Phoenix's smile is pained. "I… I'm sorry."
He shakes his head. "I expected as much," he admits wearily. Then, flashing Phoenix a small, wry smile, he adds, "You'll need someone to look after you tonight. Make sure your fever's okay."
The softness in Phoenix's eyes almost breaks him.
They have no time to revel in each other's company. Ever since Phoenix arrived atop Eagle Mountain, declaring himself (falsely) well enough to continue acting as Iris' defense attorney, Miles had made up his mind. He is going to go find out exactly who Iris is-
At least, that is his plan.
He enters the records room. He pulls out every archive he can think to check. He settles in, and gets started on his investigation.
There is nothing. No connection to Iris and to the case in which Dahlia Hawthorne had convinced the defendant to poison himself makes an appearance, no matter how much he scours the files. As far as their records go, Dahlia has always been nothing more than the daughter to a jewelry merchant, and there is no Iris listed as kin. Dahlia had worked with her step-sister to steal from their father, and that had led to the deaths of almost all those involved in the case. Miles burns every detail into his brain, ignoring the bile rising up into his throat the entire time, waiting for the other shoe to drop-
There is nothing in their databases. It cannot be true; aside from a difference in hair colours and demeanors, Iris seems far too much like the woman who had apparently captured Phoenix's heart seven years earlier, and yet, there is nothing he can find to corroborate this theory.
The lingering disappointment at finding nothing tastes far more like fear than he would've liked.
He has little time to grieve about it. Two hours into his research at the precinct, all hell seems to break loose just as Miles decides it is time to call Phoenix and check in. He thanks his lucky stars that he is at the precinct, however; a quick call to Gumshoe explains that Prosecutor Godot has turned up, and is declaring a state of emergency. "We apparently need the defendant, sir," Gumshoe says breathlessly over the phone, the sound of his ragged footsteps thundering even on Miles' end. "He says she's the only one who can save Maya!"
Miles' blood runs cold. He has half a mind to insist on talking to this 'Godot' himself- the stories of him which he has heard from Phoenix and Gumshoe paint nothing more than a raving, caffeine-addled lunatic, so he doubts he can trust whatever this stranger says- but the thought of jeopardizing Maya's safety puts him in his place.
It does not take long to get permission from the Chief of Police and the High Prosecutor to get a police escort to bring Iris up to Eagle Mountain once more. On the way over, Miles allows Detective Gumshoe to brief the two of them over the phone. There is a lock, he says- Sister Bikini states firmly that Iris is the only one who can undo it, and that Maya is likely trapped within. This news brings such fear to Iris' eyes that Miles finds he cannot broach any other subject with her, merely riding in silence with the police escort trailing behind.
There is nothing quite as unnerving as that car ride, he finds. For a moment, he wants to ask her about Phoenix again- about Phoenix, and Maya, and what exactly the young woman is hiding. He says nothing, however.
Whatever she is hiding, the emotion which is filling her eyes over and over again with tears can only be described as guilt.
Miles knows that feeling too well. So, he does not speak. All he can do is drive the first perceived threat he's ever felt in his standing with Phoenix closer to the attorney, and pray that Maya comes out alright. That is all he can do.
The sooner he can get this woman out of his car, however, the better. With all of these doubts swirling within him, that shall be the first step to finding some semblance of tranquility. The sooner, the better.