Author's Note: Hello! It's time for my five-ish year return to this fandom. This is the first chapter of an alternate ending fic to Breathing is a Necessity. You may want to go read Breathing is a Necessity if you haven't already, but this fic will summarize details from that story when appropriate. If you asked me what's the official ending for Breathing is a Necessity, it is that Phoenix and Miles ended up happily ever after. This fic is just a way to play with the "what ifs" that could have occurred if things fell apart between Phoenix and Miles.
1. It will feature both Gumeshoe and Gant. Not gonna tell you which, if either, Miles ends up with.
2. There will be sex in this fic starting likely at either the end of the second chapter/beginning of the third, but it wasn't appropriate at the beginning of the story.
Enjoy!
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July 21st, 10:26 AM.
Tokyo Physio Rehabilitation Facility
"Hello again boys," the secretary chirped as the two men approached her desk. She was quite familiar with Edgeworth and Gumshoe at this point, as they had arrived to the physical rehabilitation facility together for twenty-six visits up to that point.
"Hello!" Gumshoe returned cheerfully.
Edgeworth's greeting was a small nod, ignoring the urge to admonish the secretary for referring to them as boys. He silently chided himself for being so irritable, then chided the rest of the humanity for being so annoying. It's humanity's fault, if you think about it.
"How's recovery going?"
"Really well!" Gumshoe responded, lifting his right arm straight upward, the same arm that had endured a bullet wound five months ago. "I think I got most the motion back … crossing my fingers that they let us start strength training today!"
"Ohhh," the secretary responded, completely endeared by Gumshoe's words. She noticed that Gumshoe had used the word 'us' rather than 'me' to speak of his recovery … implying that his recovery was something both he and Edgeworth deserved credit for. "You two are so cute! You're such a lucky man to have such a dedicated partner. Has your man missed a single visit? I wish my husband supported me so – "
Gumshoe bursted out in loud, nervous laughter: "hhahahahahahahahahahaha … "
This time Miles did not hide his irritation with the secretary.
"It is in poor taste to make such assumptions," Miles commented flatly, "Gumshoe is a valued friend and I am involved with a different man."
"Hahahahahahahahahahahhaaa … "
"Oh dear! My apologies Mr. Edgeworth … " the secretary responded, horrified at her own social blunder.
"Hahahahahahahhahahahahaha … "
At this point, both the secretary and Miles were forced to looked at Gumshoe, who seemed to be stuck on a Hideous Laughter setting that was showing no signs of winding down.
"Hahahahahahahhahahaa."
Miles turned back to the secretary: "This is offensive, yes? He's laughing like a lunatic over being accused of having a romantic connection with me. I am correct to be offended."
"Hahahahahahahahahaaha …. "
"Well, if he had just stopped after a few seconds it would have been alright … " the secretary commented, " at this point it's just embarrassing for both of you … "
"Hahahahahahahahahahaha …. "
Edgeworth clenched his jaw, eyes still locked with the secretary's.
"Hahahahahahahahahahaha …. "
"I misspoke earlier when I identified him as a valued friend; he is a coworker with the mental capacity of a newt – Let's go, Gumshoe …" and he punctuated the command by giving Gumshoe a minor shove in the direction of the gym, where the physical therapist was waiting.
"Haha … ha …
July 21st, 10:33 AM.
Tokyo Physio Rehabilitation Facility
Miles watched Gumshoe interact with his physical therapist – the detective had just made a joke about how heroes, such as himself and the steel samurai, have spectacular recovery times.
In some ways Gumshoe's recovery had been impressive. The concussive headaches had gone away after a couple weeks. The bullet he had taken to the leg was surgically removed and the wound did not seem to compromise his mobility for long. The fractures of his left arm healed well – thankfully with casting alone and no corrective surgery. His nose had been broken, and following the injury he had some difficulty getting air to move through his right nostril … so surgery was needed to correct that, too. The breathing was fine now, and his face healed well.
But the detective's right shoulder had remained … problematic. Gumshoe had needed surgery to both remove a bullet and to repair a large tear to one of the shoulder's connective structures. Regrettably, the detective had severe post-operative stiffness following surgery, which was leading to a delayed recovery.
Edgeworth silently watched Gumshoe lift his right arm upward as high as he could for the therapist, so they could do a measurement and gauge his post-surgical progress. When he first started physical therapy, he could not lift his arm above the height of his shoulder. Gumshoe's movement was looking much improved.
Miles silently wondered if Gumshoe would ever be 100% again. And if he did reach 100%, would the guilt Miles felt finally pass … ?
The detective had endured all these injuries over Edgeworth, after all. Injuries inflicted by Damon Gant – a brutal beast that had developed a strong obsession with the handsome prosecutor. Gumshoe had unwittingly interrupted an extended session of abuse that had been occurring between the former police chief and the lawyer – Edgeworth's punishment for attempting to not-so-gently end a tumultuous sexual relationship they shared.
The two gunshot injuries came first, before Gumeshoe was even aware of Gant's presence … the savage beating involving fractures and head trauma occurred when the wounded detective challenged Damon to a fight, to try to buy time before help arrived, to try to protect Miles. The prosecutor had been handcuffed in the corner of the room, bruised and exposed, unable to either stop or watch the violence being inflicted on his friend.
In the aftermath, Edgeworth was desperate to ensure Gumshoe experienced the best possible recovery. He had not missed a single one of Gumshoe's appointments. He had been there for the surgeries, he had been there for the doctor visits, he had been there for every single physical therapy session.
Miles suddenly found himself pondering Gumshoe's ridiculous laughter fit earlier. The detective had referred to them as a we but then was so uncomfortable by the secretary's assumption that they were a couple. Had it just been his social awkwardness or … ?
Gumshoe's voice, outrageously loud, suddenly pulled Edgeworth from his musings.
"You hear that, pal?!" the detective asked excitedly, starting straight at Edgeworth.
" … Mm?"
"The therapist said my range of motion is good! I can start strength exercises!"
All of Miles' uncomfortable musings melted away as a powerful sense of relief gripped him. He power-walked over to both Gumshoe and the therapist, reaching into his coat pocket and pulling out a small notebook. Starting strength training meant there would be new exercises. The lawyer always took detailed notes of new exercises, just in case Gumshoe forgot what he should be doing or how to do the exercises properly.
"We did it!" Gumshoe cheered as Miles closed in.
The 'we' of the detective's phrase brought back a little of Miles' bitterness.
"You know, detective, if people assuming we are a couple is going to force you into a state of hysteria … perhaps you should cease referring to us as 'we.' "
"Yeah, but, well … " Gumshoe responded awkwardly, tapping his own cheek, looking away from Edgeworth. Yet, after a moment he just found himself smiling, with a bit of a blush, "we did it, ya know."
Gumshoe turned back to Miles, used the knuckles of his left hand to give the prosecutor a gentle nudge to the shoulder: "I couldn't have done it without ya."
Edgeworth's expression softened.
"It's the least I could do."
July 21st, 10:48 AM.
Tokyo Physio Rehabilitation Facility
"Did I ever tell ya how I injured my shoulder?" Gumshoe asked the therapist following some low weight bicep curls, "I beat an evil villain to a pulp … he was crying for his mom – "
"Gumshoe is rewriting history," Miles remarked dryly, "he was beaten terribly by … the villain. However, Gumshoe did outsmart the villain, so … it was a victory for good, in the end, thanks to his efforts."
"Yeah. I gave him a brain-beating, using my bigger brain," Gumshoe announced with a big grin, "You know, they say the brain is the largest muscle of the body … "
"No one says that," the physical therapist corrected, "because the brain is an organ, not a muscle. – The quadriceps is the largest muscle of the body, for the record."
"I can't wait until I'm punching villains again!" the jovial detective declared, pretending he did not hear the therapist.
Miles rolled his eyes with a small smirk on his face.
July 22nd, 7:03 AM.
Richard Gumshoe's Apartment
Gumshoe's phone was ringing. At 7:03 AM.
Surely that could be considered cruel and unusual.
The detective groggily grabbed at his phone – saw it was a call from Edgeworth.
"Hey … pal," when he answered it.
"Morning Gumshoe - have you done your home exercises today … ?"
"Wha … it's like … five AM … "
"It's 7 AM."
"Fine, 7 AM."
"Your shifts start at 9. Now would be an excellent time to work on your strength"
"Uh, Edgeworth, I havent … worked at 9 … since I got injured."
"What do you mean?"
"I just show up at … noon … or one … Sometimes I say to the new chief: 'oooh … I'm so injured, so hard to sleep sometimes. Thank god I don't have to get to work on time anymore … so I can get the sleep I need for my recovery. Not everyone understands … the pains and sleep-needs of a hero - ' "
"- Gumshoe!"
July 23rd, 7:03 AM.
Richard Gumshoe's Apartment
This time the phone rang at 7:03 AM.
"Morning Gumshoe."
"Yeah, yeah ... I'll get up and … do my exercises," then he added really quietly: "in an hour… "
"Best to do them now," using a tone that Gumshoe had a hard time ignoring, historically-speaking.
"Paaaaaaaal, it's Saturday … "
"We're almost there, Gumshoe," sincerely, "once you get your strength back … "
"Ok ok … I'm getting up … "
July 24th, 7:01 AM.
Richard Gumshoe's Apartment
Ring ring. 7:01 AM.
"Morning Gumshoe."
"… Hey Pal. This is Detective Richard Gumshoe's voicemail. I can't reach the phone right now … – "
" – So is this a joke or do you genuinely believe this will fool me … ?"
" … Leave a message at the sound of the beep."
" … "
"Umh. Beep."
"Gumshoe. Are you done being an idiot?"
" … press one to submit your message … "
July 25th, 7:06 AM.
Richard Gumshoe's Apartment
Yet another morning call occurred. This time at 7:06 AM.
"Morning Gumshoe."
"Ah, Edgeworth, shame on you for interrupting my exercises!"
They couldn't see each other – but Gumshoe was wearing a proud grin and Edgeworth had the smallest hint of a smile.
"I'll pick you up at 1:35 for your appointment."
July 26th, 6:58 AM.
Miles Edgeworth's House
"Mind if I sneak in there with you?" Phoenix asked from outside the shower, stripping off his pajama shirt.
"I'm about to get out," Miles noted, "I have to call Gumshoe then get ready for work … "
The defense lawyer sighed. Another small rejection in what felt like hundreds of rejections he had been experiencing with Edgeworth lately. He felt some bitterness manifest within.
"You don't have to call him every morning, you know … " Phoenix pointed out, "I'm sure at this point he knows to do his daily exercises … "
"Excellent. More Gumshoe-related commentary inspired by jealousy. It's been .. three days since you've last said anything? Is that a record for you?"
"You also don't need to take him to every appointment, he's one of those people who can drive or even walk when the situation calls for it… Really talented guy. – "
"- He's a valued friend," Miles insisted, turning off the water of his shower, "and you know it is imperative to me that his recovery goes smoothly. – "
"- Ok. Fine. But you also don't need to go to work over an hour early. And stay late every day. And often work weekend hours."
Edgeworth had opened the shower curtain to reach for a towel.
"Just say what you mean, Phoenix," as he started drying off his hair.
Miles was not looking at him; the defense lawyer waited until Edgeworth's eyes moved to his own before speaking.
"I know you're keeping yourself busy with Gumshoe and work because it's how you're coping with … what happened. I love you, and I want to help," brown eyes now had a gentle look to them, "can you squeeze me in?"
" … You'll have to contact my secretary – ask her when there's an opening in my schedule … " Miles delivered flatly.
A touch of a humored smile emerged on Phoenix's face, but it vanished quickly.
"In all seriousness … we haven't left the house together as a couple in three weeks, we live together and somehow have only shared two meals in the past seven days, we haven't had sex in a month, which isn't the end of the world or anything but … it's a sign things aren't all right. You typically … want it, more- "
"-Phoenix," Miles tried to interrupt, but Wright kept going.
"- If you want to break up with me then break up with me. But if you … if you actually want to be with me … – "
"- … It is not my intention to hurt you, or push you away … or break up with you," the prosecutor explained, wrapping the towel around his waist and stepping from the shower. He held Phoenix's eyes as he made the following admission: "However at times … I sincerely question my ability to be a proper partner … right now."
Miles didn't elaborate, despite it being the perfect time to elaborate. It was the perfect time to tell Phoenix that something was wrong, that he had been having terrible thoughts, that the world seemed colorless, that the only thing that allowed him to feel normal was work, and the only thing that brought him happiness was signs of progression with Gumshoe's recovery …
But the words never came out – and now Phoenix looked so terribly dejected that Miles wished he hadn't said anything at all.
Yet the defense attorney touched his forearm, putting on a sincere, encouraging expression.
"I know this is similar to asking you to donate a kidney, but would you be willing to be late for work today? Let's go out to breakfast … talk things out, discuss what we can do. Let's do it the Edgeworth way: meticulously. Let's make an itemized list of our challenges, discuss our strategy, set some clear goals."
" … Let's do that," Miles agreed. Perhaps Phoenix's optimism and sincerity was infectious, because the prosecutor was suddenly finding himself hopeful.
But then there was an unexpected interruption to the moment . On the bathroom sink, Miles' cellphone started to ring; Gumshoe's name flashed across the screen.
Edgeworth hesitated to grab for it, given the conversation he just had with Phoenix.
"Go ahead," the spiky-haired lawyer suggested, not sounding thrilled but not sounding spiteful either, " … it's imperative he gets better, … so I can have my boyfriend back."
Miles snatched the phone and answered it.
"Hello Gumshoe."
"Hey … you didn't call," Gumshoe started.
"I was about to. – How were your exercises?"
"Well, uhh … My shoulder's sore. Really sore. It started yesterday but … felt worse this morning."
"Why didn't you tell me?" Miles asked, perturbed. With urgency, he walked past Phoenix into the bedroom and started to gather his clothes for the day.
"I thought it was gonna get better. Now I'm … scared I made it worse."
And with Gumshoe's admission that he was scared, the poised professional within Miles took over.
"We are still on your first week of strengthening exercises. The therapist warned us some soreness was possible. Still, we handle this with proper caution and go in to get checked out by the doctor. I can call the office if you haven't – "
"- no, no. I actually called them yesterday … 8:30 today was open due to a cancellation, so that's when I'm going in."
"Excellent. I'll be right over."
"You're obviously invited, but I get that it's last minute and, you go to work soon … You don't gotta drop everything, ya know?"
And there was a small voice within Miles that said: Gumshoe is being a functional adult. He called the doctor. He's going to get checked out. Your presence at the appointment is not needed – you can call Gumshoe at 10 and get an update. He'll be ok. Gumshoe doesn't need you right now … but Phoenix does. You saw the look in Phoenix's eyes …
"I just … really hope I didn't tear it back up," Gumshoe murmured with palpable vulnerability.
Anxiety spiked within Miles – his mind once again entertaining the awful possibility that his noble friend may never fully recover.
"Have you lost motion?"
" … no, just hurts."
"Stay calm; the doctor will know what to do," Miles instructed, "I'll be there within forty minutes."
"Ok. Thanks pal."
Miles ended the call.
Once fully dressed, Edgeworth noticed that Phoenix had closed the bathroom door. Of course Phoenix would have overheard the conversation … and would have realized that, yet again, Gumshoe was being prioritized over him.
Miles went to open the bathroom door, planning to tell Phoenix they'd have to reschedule their relationship discussion to dinner time, that Gumshoe might have experienced a reinjury …. that their mutual friend was scared.
But the bathroom door was locked.
...
Phoenix had never literally locked Miles out of the room before.
Sorrow gnawed on the prosecutor's heart. He couldn't hear the shower … which forced him to wonder what Phoenix was doing on the other side of the door. Maybe Phoenix was angry – clenching his fists, thinking this was the final disappointment he'd endure with Miles. More likely his soft-hearted partner was sad … holding his head in his own hands, silently crying.
Miles continued to stare at the door, even though it had no answers.
A painful acknowledgment entered his mind: perhaps this is for the best …
Miles gathered his resolve, holding back tears.
"Phoenix … " Miles called out, "There's someone out there … more appropriate for you. Even during our first attempt at a relationship, I never felt a man such as I … deserved a man as charming and kind as you. You're … outright adorable, at times. Why would fate connect you to me … a man that cannot properly reciprocate your sweet, at times silly, nature. On a daily basis I've … always been more likely to refer to you as an idiot than to tell you I care about you … Do you not deserve better? Have you not always deserved better? Someone as free and pure with their affections as yourself? What even is our story? Is our story opposites attract … ? Or is our story one where a relentlessly bitter soul takes advantage of a kind partner's affections."
Edgeworth waited. No response.
"At this juncture … I am … further away than ever from being the partner you deserve. It truly pains me … that I cannot be the man you need."
Silence.
"It's such a terrible pain, Nick," he admitted, wiping a few tears away with his fingers.
Still no response.
"I still think of him. Of Gant. I never told you this … but he spoke of you, when he was holding the cholorform rag against my mouth. He told me he met you, deduced we were former lovers. He said you were unassuming, sweet, honest. He said I must have felt shame during my relationship with you. Surely a contemptuous, manipulative slut – he used the word slut, of course … – surely a contemptuous, manipulative slut such as myself doesn't belong with a man like you. … - Isn't it terrifying … ? That a man such as he, a literal psychopath, a man with a clear emotional impairment … could perceive this of me. What does it mean to be understood by a monster? What does that say of me?"
Silence, still.
" … Gumshoe may have reinjured his shoulder … so I have to go."
No acknowledgment.
"I apologize for it all. I care for you so deeply, Phoenix. I always will."
Again, nothing.
Miles left, trying but failing to reign in the tears.
July 26th, 07:54 AM.
Richard Gumshoe's Apartment
Gumshoe was putting on his coat – careful to move his right shoulder as little as possible – when there was a knock at his apartment door.
Must be Miles, ready to accompany him to the doctor's office.
When the detective opened the door, it was the prosecutor's reddened eyes that instantly caught his attention.
It appeared the man had been crying.
"Edgeworth," Gumshoe acknowledged, trying to not look as mortified as he felt, " … what happened?"
"We should focus on your shoulder. –- come, lets go."
It took a little more gentle questioning as they headed down a flight of stairs before Miles revealed that he and Phoenix had split up that morning.
"Wright and I rushed back into a relationship too quickly following … what happened with Gant," Miles admitted, "I feel I need to remain alone for a while."
As they made their way out of the building, Gumshoe spoke: "I can't always think of good words to comfort people, so, would you like a Gumshoe Hug?
Miles paused walking and looked toward the detective.
"Excuse me?"
"I … like hugs when I'm sad – so I try to offer them to other people … when they're sad."
"You offer a Gumshoe Hug to sad people."
"Yep."
" … "
"Is there … anything special about it?"
"It's … an ancient technique passed down through generations of Gumshoes."
" I see … do you have any references, as a provider of this service?"
"Yeah! Lots of family members, a couple coworkers, and an elderly lady who understandably got upset when a hooligan snatched her purse."
Miles tilted his head. In a better mood, the mental image of Gumshoe offering hugs to his coworkers and little old ladies may have made him smile a little. He wasn't in a better mood, unfortunately.
"Truthfully, I cannot imagine a hug of any kind improving my situation," Miles noted as he turned away to start walking to his car again.
"Hey. Don't knock it till you try it," following.
The prosecutor's movements paused once more.
" … All right. I am putting in a request for a Gumshoe Hug."
Within seconds, the detective stood before him and put his bulky arms wrap around Miles' upper body. He allowed himself to be pulled into the larger man's chest. A big hand pat his back a few times, then stayed there.
It was admittedly a comforting embrace for Miles.
"I'm sorry pal … I was really rooting for you two."
" … I was too," as he pressed his cheek against Gumshoe's chest. There was a small urge to let out of all of his emotions … to allow the excess tears he had been containing to flow, but he maintained his composure.
"You didn't let me face any of my injuries alone, Edgeworth. So, you ain't gotta face anything alone either. If you want to fly solo, I get it. But you don't have to. Whether it's the trauma-stuff … or the Phoenix-stuff, if you need a friend, I'm here."
" … you took two bullets and experienced multiple broken bones on my behalf. How could I possibly ask more of you?"
"By asking."
" … Oh. It's that easy then."
"Yep. You ask for more … by asking."
"Hm. I just feel foolish for not thinking of that.."
"And there will always be Gumshoe Hugs for ya if you get sad."
" … It's an okay hug."
The detective gasped dramatically.
"What?!"
"To be honest, for a hug passed down for generations … somewhat underwhelming," Miles noted, patting Gumshoe's chest as he pulled out of the embrace.
"That's cold pal!"
" … Thank you Richard," words spoken with complete sincerity as he turned away from the detective, "now let's get you to your appointment."
The detective put on a small smile. Miles was going to be ok … It'd take time, but he'd be ok.
Gumshoe made a mental note to call Phoenix later, just to check on him.
He intended to be there for both his friends.
July 28th, 11:33 AM.
Fuchu Prison – Interrogation Room
Damon, handcuffed to a table and in brown prison garb, was growing impatient with the amateur security bureau agent attempting to interrogate him.
"Listen, Gant. We know you have information on various individuals involved in various crimes – "
"- as I've already stated," Damon interrupted, wearing a calm smile that did not betray his internal irritation, "I will only share information with Miles Edgeworth."
"You no longer have power in this city, Gant, so if you think – "
"Oh? Are you sure about that ?" He asked, with something between a smirk and a sneer on his face.
Damon watched the confidence on the agent's face waver, which satisfied him. He then repeated: "I will only share information with Miles Edgeworth."
August7th, 12:57 PM.
Miles Edgeworth's Office
Miles, seated from his desk, looked upon the suited man entering his office: white-haired, likely in his early sixties, with a wide jaw and sharp nose.
"Thanks for meeting with me, Mr. Edgeworth," the security bureau agent greeted as he entered Miles' office, "I know the subject of Damon Gant may be – "
"- you will show me identification or there will be no actual meeting today," Edgeworth commented calmly.
This surprised the agent, but he took pulled out his wallet and produced a government-issued ID card. He showed it to Miles, who jotted down both his name, Barret Fairson, and his date of birth.
"You don't trust me," Barret noted.
"Gant had - possibly still has - a lot of friends in powerful positions. For all I know you're here on his behalf," Miles reasoned, "I intend to do my research on you. – Sit."
The security agent placed his ID back into his wallet and took a seat.
"Hmm. Well, full disclosure: Gant invited my family and I out for some beach trips a a few decades ago, back when I worked as a police officer," Barret explained, "but that's the extent of my past associations with him."
Edgeworth silently examined the agent, observing for physical signs that would suggest he's lying. He didn't see any.
"Also, full disclosure, my eldest daughter was raped when she was seventeen. I saw what it did to her. Gant absolutely deserves to be in prison for the rest of his life and I would never operate on his behalf … I operate on behalf of my country."
"What do you want?" Miles asked, deciding he found the man irritating. Even if this agent's intentions were good, he was being manipulative.
"Gant's my project. The case files note that he has alleged multiple detectives, lawyers and officers were involved with crimes and under his influence – if true we are fighting an uphill battle. We cannot be certain of who to trust with our investigations – we cannot be sure whether the people he's referring to are or are not aware of each other, whether they are or are not able to operate together to interfere with the results of investigations or any consequent trials."
"Get to your pitch," Miles insisted. Impatient.
" … We've sent multiple agents to negotiate with him, to try to at least get the names of the individuals he claims have committed crimes. Some of the agents we've sent were quite skilled. Some quite … attractive. Nothing has worked."
Miles quirked a brow when the agent made a point of stating some of the agents had been attractive.
Barret added: "He says he will only speak to you."
The prosecutor scoffed.
"That was a cute line earlier .. the one about your seventeen year old daughter – "
"-That wasn't a line," Barret insisted.
"Then how do you justify asking me to bargain with him? You know what that psychopath will want from me."
" … On that note, I'd like to inform you that if you are willing to meet with him, you may use whatever bargaining tools you see fit. I can promise there will be no cameras in the room, and any physical acts performed would be seen as a sacrifice made for this country – "
"-You are clearly out of your mind!" Miles snapped, rising from his desk.
"It is just an option, not an expectation," Barret clarified quickly, "I promise you'd be safe. He'd be in handcuffs – "
"-Oh, you promise I'd be safe?" the lawyer sneered, "Gant's strength surpasses mine to an extent that he wouldn't require his hands to injure or even kill me."
"We'd be listening in. If he tried anything, we'd be a room away … ready to act."
"Get out of my office," tersely.
The agent stood, allowing sincere desperation to be reflected in his voice.
"Mr. Edgeworth … we don't know who he's protecting and for what crimes. Perhaps he only knows of several individuals that have committed tax evasion, not the end of the world – but what if he's aware of violent crimes? Of evidence manipulation that has caused innocent people to go to prison, or allowed guilty individuals to go free? What if it's dozens of people? What if it's a hundred people? These people are still out there … still potentially infecting our city. "
Miles was still glaring at the man, but shared no words.
Barret had carefully prepared the arguments he would make to encourage Edgeworth's cooperation. He used the last, and maybe best, argument he had prepared. He spoke in a low voice: "What if one of these people is Prosecutor-General Lana Skye? The woman whose office is three floors above this one. The woman you report to. Gant used to work closely with her – What if she's one of the criminals he's hiding? What if she remains under his– "
" – Get out," Miles repeated, softer this time, eyes shifting away from the government agent.
Barret bit his inner cheek, disappointed. He reached for a contact card from his suitjacket and set it on Edgeworth's desk.
"As a government official, I hope you reconsider. But as a fellow human being … I'm sorry I had to ask this of you."
The agent turned to leave. He made it a few steps toward the door before Edgeworth's voice stopped him.
"I am willing to speak to him on the phone; I guarantee nothing."
"I'll arrange it, and I thank you, Mr. Edgeworth."
August9th, 11:12 AM.
Miles Edgeworth's Office
Edgeworth couldn't help but wonder what the point of anxiety was, right now.
He had a phone to his ear. He was on hold for a call connected to Fuchu prison.
On hold waiting for a prison warden to collect Damon.
Miles forced himself to accept that the anxiety served no purpose. The former police chief was in prison; he was not a threat to anyone now.
Edgeworth had relentlessly scrutinized the final conversations they shared when he was Damon's unwilling captive months ago. Conversations where Damon had insisted that they were equals, that they belonged to each other, that they were soulmates, of all things. While that day had began with Damon hurting and humiliating Miles in either disgusting or erotic ways … it ended with the deranged man trying to convince him they shared something extraordinary. Something permanent. Something that wouldn't go away even if Damon died.
There seemed to be at least a small amount of truth to that claim – Damon had been completely absent from his life for multiple months now … but Edgeworth continued to feel afflicted by him. He pondered the terrible man daily … shamefully imagined that muscular body most nights.
At least he didn't hear Damon's voice anymore. It felt like the fiend's mouth had hovered next to Miles' ear for the first five months following that terrible day … whispering praises, promises, insults, and plans.
Miles ridding himself of that voice had been when he truly started to believe in his ability to recover.
But now he was going to hear that voice again … the actual voice, of course, not the imagined version his own cruel mind had cursed him with.
The lawyer felt his heart beat quicken.
Calm yourself …
Do not show him your weakness.
He will sus it out and attempt to use it against you.
Stay calm.
Suddenly a voice emerged from the phone at his ear: a familiar baritone.
"It's Gant."
Edgeworth took a full breath, confident he could cloak his discomfort.
"I've been informed you're giving the security bureau a hard time, Gant."
"Ah," a pleased tone, "I was hoping it was you, Miles – miss me?"
"No."
"Ouch," the criminal responded mirthfully, "well, how've you been?"
"Dandy. – how's prison treating you?"
"Oh … could be better. They've kept me in solitary confinement the past few weeks … Handcuffed, in a room so small I can't lie flat on the ground to sleep at night."
"My heart bleeds for you," blatant sarcasm – though Miles was forced to wonder if such treatment would simply make an already deranged creature even worse.
A chuckle passed through the phone.
"So testy. Aren't you calling to negotiate with me … ? A professional would be attempting to build a rapport …- "
"-A rapport? With you? Cute. – "
" – In any case, solitary gives a man plenty of time to think," Damon admitted with a suggestive tone.
Those words forced a pause from Edgeworth.
Damon continued: "Care to know what I think about … during my hours alone… ?"
...
" … I know what you think about, Damon," Miles' tone lost some of its strength. He imagined rough hands touching his skin.
"Honestly I wish I could stop, Miles. Truly. I simply ... can't."
"Enough," the lawyer insisted, "let's get to the point – "
"- what do you think about during your time alone, Worthy?"
The prosecutor closed his eyes as he was struck by a volatile combination of frustration and shame.
He ignored the question.
"What do you want from me, Damon?" spoken with a contemptuous tone, "a fuck, for the information? It's ridiculous you'd think I'd be willing to visit you in Fuchu prison to fuck you."
"That's a pity – "
"- I'd also like to take this opportunity to remind you the last time I offered myself to you as part of a deal, you reneged your end," Miles commented icily, "seems we failed to establish a rapport during previous negotiations."
"In my defense … I was about to allow your phonecall, but then Wright-o attacked me with a baseball bat. –- Speaking of Phoenix, how's your relationship with him going?"
Miles bit his tongue as a powerful sadness gripped him.
It had been six days since he and Phoenix broke up. They had a final conversation that confirmed it was a mutual decision between them … but that didn't keep Miles from harboring deeply-rooted pain and one-hundred regrets over it.
Damon, curious over Miles' sudden silence, pressed: "he assured me you two would get back together … insisted to me that you needed him and that he was going to keep you away from others – Has that been working out for you?"
Of course Phoenix would say that …
Edgeworth briefly considered either dismissing the question or lying – not wanting to give the ridiculous bastard the satisfaction of knowing what a potent and terrible impact he's had on the lawyer's life. But Damon had made a good point earlier … Damon had information; Miles needed to negotiate. Perhaps playing along would inspire the criminal's tongue.
"Your persisting influence was toxic to the relationship. He was jealous, paranoid, reckless with his accusations … I was impatient, miserable, unpleasant … neither of us were happy; it worsened with time."
Miles was attempting to speak of it all impassively, but he could tell his voice wavered. Perhaps there was no avoiding it – the wounds were quite fresh.
"I'm certain this pleases you," the lawyer added bitterly, when Damon failed to respond right away.
"I'd be lying if I said it didn't."
The admission caused Miles' bitterness to surge.
"You're a heartless beast and therefore do not understand what you've stolen from me."
" … Don't give me all the credit, Edgeworth, You and Phoenix were a dysfunctional pair before I came into the picture."
The lawyer said nothing. He couldn't help but think of some of the last sentences Phoenix said to him before they agreed to part ways: "I feel like … I'm watching you suffocate and ... I'm making it worse and … I don't know how to fix it. And I'm sorry. I'm sorry I let us down. I'm so sorry."
Damon, recognizing that he had lost the lawyer's attention to thoughts of Phoenix, made an offer: "You come visit me at this prison and I'll provide you one name."
Miles' sadness was eclipsed by ire.
"One name? Of how many?"
"Dozens."
"Oh you're really going to string me along, aren't you?"
"You havent made me any offers," the former police chief noted, "and you're unwilling to bargain with your body … "
There was a moment of sinful thoughts following those words – Miles willed them away and focused on what could he could reasonably arrange for the criminal. Earlier Gant had mentioned being kept in solitary confinement …
" … What if I could arrange for better accommodations for you? Accommodations bound to be preferable to solitary – possibly something superior to a standard prison cell."
"Mmm."
Edgeworth then added slyly: "perhaps the Powers-That-Be could be convinced to provide you access to a pool for a few hours each week … "
" … Oh. You do know how to negotiate," Damon noted, "very tempting offer, but … not good enough."
"Not. Good. Enough. You'd rather stay in solitary then cooperate with me -"
"-Dont be silly, Worthy," with that offputting, jovial tone, "I'm not giving up the only card I can play to ensure I see you again for a slightly better cell."
"… You're insane, Damon."
Another soft chuckle.
"See you soon," that voice replied before hanging up.
August9th, 12:42 PM.
Miles Edgeworth's Office
A short phone call occurred between Miles and the security bureau agent Barret Fairson.
"I'll meet with him."
"Ok. Are you sure?"
"Do not feign caring for my wellbeing; it's utterly obnoxious."
" … It saddens me you feel that way."
"I will meet with him once. Once. Whatever information I glean during this meeting will be all that I gather on behalf of the security bureau. Understood?"
"If that's the case, I need you to get as many names as possible."
"I care so little about what you feel you need out of me, Mr. Fairson. - Besides, he would not give me all the names no matter what I offer to him – "
" – no, the sick fuck wants you to have a reason to return to him."
Edgeworth and Fairson discussed a few additional details of the situation. After the call ended, Miles' eyes drifted to the sole window of his office, gaze settling upon Tokyo's gray landscape.
Persistent thoughts of Damon seized his mind – thoughts that refused every one of Edgeworth's efforts to silence them.
And there was no doubt in lawyer's mind, to the west of his office … Gant was locked up in a tiny cell within Fuchu prison, thinking of him.
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Author's Note: As always, I love feedback/comments and/or kudos. It'd fill me with happiness if people were interested in more chapters. If there's enough interest, I have about 5-6 chapters of plot planned for this.
Also I have a little prequel fic that I worked on cause I went nutty when I started writing this fandom again. I posted the first chapter on under BringtheHawt2 and Ill eventually start post it over here.
Anyway, ty for reading!