He didn't stop to wonder why he reacted to the gunshot a split second before anyone around him, or why he moved a hair's breadth faster. The only thought crossing his mind was to protect Trucy at any cost. Phoenix leapt in front of his daughter, and the bullet pierced his chest and burrowed into his beating heart.

- O -

It had been an ordinary court day for Chief Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth, which was to say a losing day, not that he was any stranger to those anymore. Once Phoenix Wright deduced that the witness, one Mr. Hemingway Locke, was guilty of lacing the victim's tea, it was only a matter of time before the Not Guilty came hammering down. Miles frowned as he oversaw the witness's arrest, and he wondered yet again at Wright's uncanny propensity to stumble upon innocent clients. Honestly, they seemed to drop out of the sky! His own prosecutorial win percentage was surely in the single digits by now.

(Good thing Von Karma isn't around anymore, or he'd be doing far worse than merely having words with me.)

Miles sighed in resignation, shifted his grip on his briefcase, and approached his rival and secret flame. "Congratulations, Wright," he said in perfunctory greeting.

"Edgeworth!" Wright answered brightly. "Thanks, but it's nothing to congratulate me for. My client was innocent, after all."

"Yes, you do have extraordinary luck in selecting clients. And in other ways as well: Not many have survived the experiences you have."

Wright rubbed the back of his head, looking sheepish. "You can say that again. Either I'm protected by some mysterious armor, or I'm just extremely lucky."

"Heh, you'd be more lucky if you avoided life-threatening situations in the first place," Miles retorted. "Well, I'd best be going. Good day."

He was descending the stairs when a sharp crack startled him from his thoughts, followed by a high-pitched scream. Trucy. He whipped around.

Like a slow-motion scene out of his worst nightmares, Miles stood rooted to the spot as he watched Phoenix dive in front of his little girl. Red blossomed across his chest, and he folded and crumpled, with Trucy clutching at him and screaming.

A second passed, and then two. Too late, he sprinted towards the fallen attorney and dropped to his knees in sickeningly-red blood, howling. He pressed a handkerchief against the wound; It was instantly soaked through. He grabbed Phoenix's hand and squeezed. Phoenix coughed weakly, once, red droplets flying from lips turning blue. His eyes rolled back into his head and his body went still, his hand limp and heavy in Miles's. "No, Phoenix! Stay with me! Please," he begged, feeling desperately along Phoenix's neck for a pulse. He couldn't find a pulse. Phoenix's head lolled to the side, away from Miles's shaking fingers. Tears filled his eyes. There's no pulse. . . .

Detective Gumshoe pushed through the crowd. "The ambulance is on its way, sir!" he called. Dimly, Miles heard the wailing of sirens drawing closer. Two paramedics sprang out of the ambulance and lifted the too-still body onto a gurney, and a third steered Miles and Trucy into the back of the ambulance. Out came the trauma shears. In three quick snips, the paramedics cut off Phoenix's shirt—Trucy gasped sharply—and that's when Miles saw it.

The mess of metal wiring and steel.

- O -

Dumbfounded, they followed the "paramedics" through Hotti Clinic and into a private room where Dr. Hotti stood waiting, his back oddly straight, his leer replaced with a grim and professional expression, as shocking of a transformation as Yanni Yogi on the witness stand. He wasted no time plugging a USB cable into a well-hidden port in Phoenix's heel. Dr. Hotti nodded firmly as readings began scrolling across the screen.

"Wh-what are you doing to Daddy?" Trucy whimpered.

"Little Miss, I apologize for the nightmare NRHD-113—I mean Phoenix—put you through today. The good news is, your daddy will be just fine," Dr. Hotti said.

"He's really going to be ok?" Trucy sniffled.

"He'll be back in action before you know it," Dr. Hotti replied reassuringly.

It was at once the most important answer and the one that explained the least. "Wright's a robot?" Miles blurted out.

"Yes and no. Technically, he's an android," Dr. Hotti explained, disconcertingly donning a welding mask.

Surreal. Absurd. Confusion and shock mixed to leave Miles grasping for words. "Why? And how?" he stammered.

Dr. Hotti shook his head gravely. "I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to say. Ah, there we go!" He pulled a length of metal wire and a soldering iron from a cabinet and set to work, Miles and Trucy staring in flabbergasted silence.

Half an hour later, he welded Phoenix's ribcage shut in a shower of sparks and covered the chest wound with a tan patch. Another glance at the diagnostic screen and a final satisfied hum, and he was running a burst of power through the cable.

Phoenix sat up with a jolt. "Trucy!" He gasped as she flung herself into his arms, sobbing. "Oof! It's ok, Truce. Daddy's not going anywhere." Then he took a look around and did a double-take. "Edgeworth? Where am I?"

"You're. . . ah. . . you're at the Hotti Clinic," Miles said. "Why didn't you tell us?"

"Tell you what?" Phoenix asked, bewildered.

"He doesn't know," Dr. Hotti answered for him.

"What don't I know?" Phoenix frowned, brow furrowing in confusion.

"Perhaps you'd best discuss this somewhere else," Dr. Hotti interrupted. "The less you ask of me, the better. Don't let word of this get out, alright?" With that, he left the room, the very picture of a stooped and lecherous quack once more.

- O -

Being a robot had its perks.

"So that's how you crushed a thick glass bottle with your bare teeth and survived the ingested shards," Edgeworth told him.

"It must be what gave me the strength to swim against Eagle River's current," Phoenix mused.

"And kick down doors," Trucy added.

"The current must've been more than what you were built for," Edgeworth said thoughtfully. "River water in your circuits. That's what gave you a cold. But ordinary blunt force like, oh, let's just say. Collisions with speeding cars? Major head trauma? Won't hurt you."

"But if I'm so indestructible, why did I pass out in front of Von Karma? Why couldn't I stop him from electrocuting Maya?" Phoenix's voice held an edge of frustration.

"Electricity, Wright. Your system rebooted from the electrical surge."

"Oh."

- O -

Being a robot had its downsides.

"So this is why I'm not in contact with my parents," Phoenix said, pensive and moody. He scrubbed aggressively at a bowl and avoided eye contact. "It doesn't occur to me to miss them."

"If it's any consolation, I'm not in touch with mine either," Edgeworth said wryly.

"Oh no! Miles, I didn't mean to be ungrateful. . . ."

Edgeworth sighed. "It's quite alright. That was in poor taste for me to make it a point of comparison."

Phoenix sighed too, gazing off towards Trucy's bedroom. "It's just, how can I trust that anything I feel—or think I feel—is real? Truce, my little girl. . . do I really. . . ." He trailed off and shook his head.

Edgeworth took his hands out of the soapy water and patted them dry. After the briefest hesitation, he laid a hand on Phoenix's shoulder. "Wright, anyone with eyes can see that you love that girl. With your heightened abilities, you can protect her better than most."

Phoenix smiled a half-hearted smile and leaned into the warm touch, barely stopping himself from covering Edgeworth's hand with his own. He swallowed the question he'd meant to ask one day, the one he'd been saving for when the time was right. May I take you out for dinner? Or perhaps Will you marry me?

Questions he could never ask, now that he knew.

(There's never a right time for an android. Miles deserves to find a human partner.)

- O -

Author's Notes

When I first started writing: "I want to make people feel things in their hearts and souls."
Now: "Lmao this is a hilarious concept and I'm gonna inflict it on everyone."

Back then: "I must not let anyone know who I am. Too insecure. Separate writing accounts from main, and never the two shall meet."
Now: "Idgaf."

NRHD-113 - This is a reference to NDR-113 (Andrew), the protagonist of The Positronic Man by Isaac Asimov and Robert Silverberg. NRHD spells Naruhodou lol. When Hotti calls Trucy "Little Miss", that's a reference to Amanda Martin, another character in The Positronic Man whom Andrew refers to as "Little Miss".

I imagine that Phoenix and Miles will get it together (and get together) eventually! Phoenix is pretty impulsive, I think. He'll spit the question out sooner or later. :)