Summary: When Edgeworth is declared innocent, it's a moment of triumph. Unfortunately, this leaves Manfred von Karma as a man with nothing left to lose.

Nothing (Everything) To Lose

The judge was looking at Miles with an expression of almost gentle relief. It seemed, despite his reputation as a Demon Prosecutor, the man had more friends than he realized.

Phoenix was rather looking forward to showing Edgeworth just how many people had come to care for his well-being. However, that would probably overwhelm him right now, so he figured it was for the best to just leave Miles in his dazed haze. No need to knock him over with the realization that he actually did have a social life after all.

Yet, anyway.

"It appears that we have come a very long way to the end of this maze," the judge said as the bailiff approached the stunned and seemingly subdued Manfred von Karma. "Fifteen years later..." he shook his head as the quiet sound of handcuffs snapping onto the older prosecutor's wrists seemed to ring out loudly across the room. "Mr. Miles Edgeworth?"

"Yes, your honor?" Miles replied automatically.

Thank goodness for mental autopilot, Phoenix supposed.

"You were innocent," the judge told him. An absolution Miles was clearly still struggling to process. "You are innocent. As you said... it was all a nightmare."

"Yes, your honor," Miles repeated, relief starting to set in if the trembling in his hands was any indication.

Phoenix wanted to get him off the stand and take him somewhere he felt safe. Miles had a condo, right? Take him there, wrap him in a blanket, and hope that the man didn't start crying because Phoenix was absolutely useless when tears got involved. Especially his own tears and if Miles started crying? Phoenix would definitely start crying too.

Giving the gavel a few good thunks, the judge announced, "this court finds the defendant, Mr. Miles Edgeworth... not guilty! That is all. The court is adjourned."

Heading over to Edgeworth, Phoenix put a hand on his shoulder and asked, "are you going to be okay?"

"I... I don't know," Miles admitted, eyes finally seeming to focus again as he looked at Phoenix. "All this time I thought... he let me think that I..." his voice hitched and fell silent.

"Let's get out of here, okay?" Phoenix started guiding Miles away from the witness stand without waiting for a response. "Your car is still at your place, I think. Do you want me to get you an uber?"

"Yeah. That's... yes. Thank you." Edgeworth's steps were hesitant at first, but as they passed the prosecutor and defense tables his gait grew steadier. Stronger.

Miles might not realize it yet, but Phoenix could already see it for himself. Miles Edgeworth was going to be okay. Not today, not tomorrow... but soon. He was stronger than Manfred von Karma's hatred and abuse.

That was when the shot rang out.

There's the sound of a scuffle and then a distinct, unforgettable crack.

It's a sound Miles knows all too well. It's haunted his nightmares for a very long time, after all. A gunshot.

Not two this time, but just one. And just one is already too many.

There's a moment of stunned silence afterwards and Miles stares at Manfred across the room. The man who'd raised him and driven him to pursue the impossible quest of perfection. The man who'd murdered Miles father and was now pointing a gun at Miles...

Not at Miles. At Phoenix.

"No..." Miles turned to too late, Phoenix already dropping heavily to his knees. A stunned expression on his face even as he began to tilt to the side. "No... Phoenix!" Miles dropped to his own knees, catching the other man in his arms to lower, gently to the ground. "Stay with me," Miles demanded, shucking off his jacket to press against the wound. He had to slow the bleeding.

"Stay with me," Miles repeated, determined.

Wright's face was too pale. And there was so much blood...

"M-Miles?" Phoenix licked his lips, breathing wrong. "I'm glad... I'm glad I got to.. to meet you again."

"Don't talk like that," Miles snapped. "This isn't goodbye."

"Don't let... don't let Maya be alone," was all Phoenix said in response, eyes slipping shut.

"Nick!" And suddenly there was Maya Fey, on Phoenix's other side. "No... nonono..." She'd lost her sister just months earlier. If Phoenix...

Miles can't bear the thought.

It feels like hours he crouches there, trying to keep his childhood best friend from bleeding out on the courtroom floor. He doesn't look up until the paramedics are shoving Maya out of the way and carefully taking over the task of keeping Phoenix Wright alive. Miles' legs are almost numb as he stumbles to his feet, jacket now discarded and bloody on the floor, his hands stained red...

Manfred von Karma is no longer in the room. Miles finds he doesn't care to ask what happened.

"I'm his sister," Maya was insisting to the paramedics, desperate to go with Phoenix to the hospital.

"She's his next of kin," Miles spoke up, making his tone the one that allowed no questions. It worked in court and, technically, they were in court, so...

"Fine, you can come along. Just don't get in the way, alright miss?"

"I swear," Maya replied. "I have your phone number," she added, turning to Miles. "I'll text you which hospital when we get there."

Miles nodded, wordlessly grateful.

With Phoenix and Maya gone, Miles finally gives into the gnawing edge of shock. He'd been in a sort of detached panic from the moment Phoenix revealed that Manfred von Karma was the second shooter who'd killed Miles' father. But he'd been recovering when the gunshot happened. His current state? Definitely worse.

Now Miles really had no idea what to do, staring dully at his hands. He should wash them, shouldn't he? Except then he'd get the door to the bathroom all bloody...

"Mr. Edgeworth?"

Looking up blankly, Miles placed the speaker as Detective Gumshoe.

"Come on, Mr. Edgeworth, let's get you cleaned up."

Miles took a shaky step towards the detective, then frowned down at the floor. "My jacket..."

"I've already bagged it. It's... it's evidence." The detective looked nervous. "You've got a spare suit and shoes in your office, right?"

Nodding, Miles noted it was all folded up in the bottom drawer on the right hand side of his desk. The fabric didn't hold wrinkles too badly, so in a pinch it was good enough for court if necessary.

Gumshoe sent a runner for the clothes and told the man - Miles couldn't even process the person's identity - to meet them at the nearest men's bathroom. That was where the detective quickly escorted Miles. Once there, Gumshoe held the door open and cajoled Miles into washing the blood from his hands. His clothing, smeared with blood on the knees and the sleeves, were handed over after Miles entered a stall. His shoes too. Then Miles scrubbed any other stains of blood he could see off.

Then he just stood there, forehead pressed against his arm as he leaned against the closed stall door, waiting for clean clothes.

The wait is both longer and shorter than expected. But Miles dresses in record time and reclaims his cell phone the moment he's out of the stall.

No text from Maya yet.

Shit...

And then a stray thought drifts through Miles' mind and nearly knocks him completely over.

How is he going to explain any of this to Franziska?

Maya finally texts Miles the name of the hospital right as Miles is considering heading to his office and having a nervous breakdown in there. It seems like the sort of day for that at this point.

Or at least finding his missing cravat. Whoever was sent to grab his spare suit didn't think to grab it and Miles felt oddly vulnerable without it at his throat.

At the same time, he's not sure he wants it. Miles' current fashion was heavily influenced by... well... he needs to sort that out at some point, he supposes.

Not today. Today all he cares about is what happens to Phoenix. Which is why he doesn't go to his office for the nervous breakdown, but instead heads back towards the front exit of the court house.

"Edgey!"

Miles did not close his eyes and grit his teeth, but it's a near thing. He'd tolerated Larry as a child for Phoenix's sake. He can tolerate the man again now for the same reason. And, he supposed, he did owe Larry consideration for giving testimony on the lake murder case Miles had been accused of that had led him to erroneously confessing to his father's murder.

"Larry," Miles said stiffly, because part of him utterly rebelled at calling anyone 'Butz' even if that was really their name.

"There's press camped out all over the front of the court house, man. I got an uber coming to the back of the building but, like, I forgot I don't know Maya's number. So I can't ask her where to go." Larry looked concerned. "Do you know? I was thinking we could split the fare and you could avoid the press. Since we're headed to the same place and all."

"Maya texted me the number," Miles allowed. "I wouldn't be averse to sharing an uber with you." He wouldn't be pleased about it either, though.

"Dude, you got her number? I thought she was Nick's girl," Larry muttered, looking speculative.

"I have her number because she texted me. I assume she got my number through Phoenix and he had my number because he's my... my defense attorney." He stumbled over the words, not sure if it was the present tense or just the fact that he'd needed a defense attorney or... or the fact that Phoenix was currently in emergency surgery that was tripping him up.

Miles went to rub the back of his neck only to remember the blood on his hands and freeze... only to drop his hands back to his sides as he remembered he'd scrubbed them clean already.

"Let's just go."

"You got it, man."

The drive to the hospital is blessedly silent. Part of Miles wishes it wasn't. Silence mean's Larry's frightened too. And it gives Miles too much quiet time to contemplate the fifteen years he'd devoted to the twisted teachings of the man who'd murdered his father.

Maya is sitting in the waiting room, silently crying when Miles and Larry arrive.

Larry makes an inane joke that makes Maya almost smile. She hugs Miles, though, and he lets her. She'd allowed herself to be found in contempt of court for his sake and he finds himself quite fond of the girl.

She's too young for Phoenix, though. He hopes Larry's wrong about their relationship.

The wait is unbearable. The three of them sit in relative silence, each occasionally breaking it - even Miles - but inevitably subsiding again. None of them are really up for conversation.

When Maya starts to cry again, Miles holds her hand and doesn't complain or show any outward pain even as she clamps on too tightly. She'd lost a loved one too recently to bear losing another. And Miles understands that fragility all too well, because he thinks that losing Phoenix right now might shatter him.

Part of him is already wondering how many of those perfect trials of his these last four years have placed innocents in jail. He'd ride the detectives hard to ensure the right person was arrested, that only the guilty came to trial. But Phoenix's clients had each proven innocent thus far... breaking Miles perfect record and raising the possibility that there were other cases where... he'd screwed up.

He's going to pour over every single case when he knows Phoenix is going to be alright. But Phoenix has to be... he has to come out of surgery stable first.

He has to...

Larry's fallen asleep with his neck at an awkward angle by the time the doctor comes out into the waiting room and calls Maya's name. It falls to Miles to elbow Larry awake and they wait for Maya to come back and tell them the situation.

"The surgery went well," Maya told them. "He can't have visitors yet and he won't wake until probably tomorrow, but... he made it. He made it..." Maya swayed and Miles stood quickly, catching her shoulders and steadying her.

"When did you last eat?" he asked her.

"I... I don't know." Maya's voice sounded hollow, helpless. Still in shock, but then they all probably were.

"Let's find someplace to eat," Miles decided. "It's on me." He included Larry in that invitation too and the man grinned at him in relief.

There's a burger joint across from the hospital that they wind up at. Larry ends up leaving first. He has work in the morning and his food stand in the afternoon.

That just leaves Miles and Maya. "Where have you been staying?" Miles finally asked, as he waited for his credit card to come back with the check for him to sign.

"Nick's got a guest room I've been staying at until I felt ready to go back to the village," Maya said, her voice a bit hoarse from all the crying she'd done since Phoenix... "When I lost my sister, I never expected... I never expected I'd gain a brother. I can't lose him, Mr. Edgeworth."

"And you aren't going to," Miles promised her. "He pulled through the surgery and he's the most stubborn person either of us know. He'll be up and about and in physical therapy before we know it."

"R-right."

"I also have a guest room," Miles offered quietly, thinking of what Phoenix had said about not leaving Maya alone. He's not entirely sure if this is what Phoenix had meant, but... "If you'd like someplace other than Wright's apartment to stay while he's... in the hospital then you could stay at my place instead."

Maya swallowed hard, blinking away tears. "I'd like that. But I'll need to pick up some of my things first."

Miles nodded. "We can stop on the way to my condo, then."

It figures that Phoenix's apartment is in the opposite direction of Miles' condo. But it's not like he can't pay the fares. Besides, it's all worth it when he looks in on Maya later to find her passed out on top of the covers of his guest bed.

He drapes a blanket over her before heading to his own room for sleep he fears will probably elude him.

Perhaps it would have been better if it had.

Gathering up his case files - shoving them haphazardly into his briefcase - Miles tried to figure out what the hell just happened.

Will Powers was on trial. Miles knew that perfectly well, he'd been prosecuting the case after all.

Only... the investigation had been a rush job from the start and Miles had thought something was weird about it. Lana had been cagey about the case and ignored Miles requests that they wait until the evidence finished being collected before going to trial. And there certainly was something wrong with the whole case from start to finish. Because Will Powers was framed.

Vasquez had confessed and Miles had helped bring that about. And he had no idea how to feel about that.

Then there was Phoenix Wright, a blast from the past that Miles could have happily done without. Things had been so much simpler with that part of his life buried and forgotten.

"Edgeworth... are you alright?"

Miles jerked in surprise and looked up to see Phoenix standing on the other side of the desk, studying him intently.

"I'm fine. Not that my well being is any of your concern."

"Gumshoe mentioned you'd burned yourself with coffee the other day. I was concerned," Phoenix continued, all too earnestly.

That very hand twinged as Miles curled it into a fist. "I don't need your concern," he snapped. "I never thought I'd see you again, Wright, and while being reunited with you again after almost fifteen years has been a... novel experience, it's one I could have done without. Your reemergence in my life has brought me only unnecessary unease and uncertainty. I'd prefer it if you never showed your face in front of me again."

"A bit of a tall order considering I'm sure we'll face each other again in court, sooner or later," Phoenix retorted sharply. "Consider this, Edgeworth. So you just had one case that was about the truth and not your precious record. And that's great. If not for you pushing things now, Vasquez would've gotten away with murder. But how many others just like Vasquez have you let walk in the past?

"If you're worried about changing, don't. Because you've made it very clear that the kid I admired - who cared about justice and truth - he's gone. And maybe you'll sleep better tonight because you let one innocent man get the not guilty verdict he deserves. But tomorrow you'll be back in this court room and it'll be redeeming your record and not the truth that'll drive you to win. Business as usual."

There was blood on Phoenix's shirt. Slowly spreading.

"Phoenix..." Miles couldn't breathe at the sight. "Phoenix, you're hurt..."

"And you're the one who hurt me," Phoenix snarled, reaching for Miles across the table...

His heart was pounding a mile a minute as he found himself not behind the prosecutor's table, but in bed. His dreams were half memory and half tormented subconscious, but certainly all terrifying.

It was too early to call the hospital for an update. But it was a decent hour for calling Germany, something Miles should have done before falling asleep.

Then again, he'd been too drained for a conversation with Franziska at the time. He was still too drained for it, after that nightmare. But coffee ought to be fortification enough.

Miles slipped on his robe and headed for the kitchen. He kept as quiet as possible, in deference to his house guest, and used the teapot to boil water, opting for his french press over the k-cup machine. It made for a stronger brew this way and Miles could use the extra pick-me-up it'd bring him.

Coffee in hand, Miles made his way to the third bedroom of the house, which served as his office for working from home. Rarely used, as he preferred his actual office at the Prosecutor's office... and that reminded him that he needed to talk to Lana soon. Make sure he still had a job after this mess. He hadn't technically been fired yet and most likely wouldn't be, but... better safe than sorry, especially if he wanted to be taken off active cases for a while to recheck as many of his old cases as possible. Just in case... just in case his pursuit of perfection had truly made him careless.

Settled behind his desk, Miles sipped his coffee for a while, trying to figure out how to break the news of Manfred von Karma's true nature to Franziska. There was really no good way to go about it, especially over the phone. But she deserved to hear the truth from him and without any further delay.

Cup now half empty, Miles set it aside, picked up his phone, and dialed his sister's number by memory.

"Von Karma," is the sharp, feminine answer on pick up.

Miles switches to German. "Hello, Franziska."

"Miles? I thought... I thought I would be hearing from father. Are you..." she trails off, distress in her tone for all that she's trying to hide it.

"Not guilty."

"But you confessed," she said, confused. Clearly her father had contacted her at some point during the trial.

"My lawyer found evidence already on record indicating that the gun I fired actually penetrated the elevator door and hit the person who then opened the elevator and shot my father. There... there was a second gun in play. He even found the person who did it. That person still had the bullet in them," Miles told her.

"Who was it?" she asked, sounding fascinated despite herself. When Miles didn't answer, she insisted, "Miles, who was the bastard who shot your father?"

"Franziska," Miles' voice wavered. "The person who... who shot my father was Manfred von Karma."

There was the sound on the other end of the line of a dropped phone. Heavy breathing. A quiet 'no'.

"Franziska, pick up the phone," Miles commanded. She'd still hear his voice from the speaker, tinny though it might be coming from the floor. "Franziska!"

"You're telling me," she said harshly, phone clearly back in hand, "that I should believe my father to be a murderer."

"He confessed," Miles said quietly.

"So did you."

He doesn't dignify that with a response. He just waits.

She starts cursing, the foulest words she knows and Miles wonders if his German is that rusty or he was just very sheltered when he realizes he actually doesn't recognize a few of them.

"You're still my sister," he interrupted in a rush. Franziska goes utterly silent. "I know you never much cared for me and that Manfred's purpose in taking me in was to pit us against each other, to make us push each other and vie for the right to be considered the best. But when I lost my father, I gained a sister and I don't want to lose that now."

"You're an idiot," she finally snapped. "You're an idiot," she repeated, softer. "But I suppose all brothers are less intelligent than their sisters."

Miles smiles in relief. He should tell her about Phoenix, but now's not the time for that. Let her adjust to her father's status as a murderer before telling her he attempted to do it again. "Will you come to visit? I'm due some time off and I'd like to see you."

"I'll... I'll think about it. Maybe you should come here," she countered.

"I'll think about it," Miles echoed.

After Maya wakes, they have breakfast and then head back to the hospital. Phoenix is asleep, but they're allowed to visit his hospital room.

Miles leaves Maya in there while he tracks down where he needs to go to discuss Phoenix's bill for all of this. Arguably the hospital shouldn't let him see the charges Phoenix will be facing or letting Miles know what Phoenix's insurance situation looks like, but he's not the best lawyer in the DA's office for nothing. Miles gets access to an itemized bill of charges so far and immediately gets the frivolous items knocked off. There aren't many, thankfully, and the health system has improved since he was a child, but Miles still remembers the way his father suffered financially after his mother's death.

Phoenix is already struggling financially. If Miles can help, then he feels like he should. So Miles arranges to pay for a significant portion of Phoenix's medical bills.

He drops by Phoenix's room again, but apparently he missed a brief moment of wakefulness while away.

"I don't think he'll remember being awake later," Maya opines to Miles. "He was pretty out of it. Definitely still on the good drugs right now."

A smile tugs at Miles' lips at the dry way she tells him that.

Next Miles heads outside and finds a secluded bench. He calls Lana Skye's personal number.

"Miles," she greets him, tone warm. "I was glad to hear about the verdict in your trial yesterday. I'm sorry about what happened to your defense attorney. Do you know how he's doing?"

"Phoenix came out of surgery stable last night," he told her. "I missed it when he was conscious earlier, but his assistant seemed reassured despite how out of it he was."

"I'm glad to hear that. How are you doing? What happened yesterday wouldn't have been easy on you even if Mr. Wright hadn't been shot." She paused a beat and then added, "I'm not asking as your boss. I'm asking as your friend."

Miles let out a shaky breath. "My head's a mess," he admitted. "I need some time off. And then I need some time away from active cases."

"Of course. I'll take care of the paperwork for you. Just let me know when you're ready to come back in."

"Thank you, Lana." He paused a beat, not sure what to say next. Finally... "what happened with von Karma?"

"He's declined a trial and insisted on the highest punishment. Sentencing will have to go before a judge as a closed hearing and I intend to act as prosecutor, though I suspect von Karma will be doing my job for me. As far as he seems to be concerned, he's prosecuting himself now. A guilty verdict is a point of pride. He seems convinced that Mr. Wright is dead, though, and that death absolves him of any blemishes to his perfect record."

Nausea curdled in Miles gut. He felt like he couldn't breathe, suddenly light headed and distant.

"Miles! Miles, breathe with me, alright? Breathe in..." and he did, on instinct, follow Lana's instructions. "Breathe out..." Lana repeated that a few time until Miles was steadier.

"Sorry about that," he apologized.

"No, I'm sorry. You didn't need to hear that and I should've realized." She sighed quietly. "I'd like to come see you, if that's alright?"

"Yes. That's fine."

"It'll have to be this afternoon. I'll call you when I'm free. Treat you to dinner, maybe?"

Miles agreed, feeling exhausted. "I'm looking after Phoenix's assistant," he warned. "So I'll want to bring her along and make sure she actually eats something."

There's a long silence on Lana's side. "Maya Fey, right?"

"That's right."

"I... I knew her sister." Lana sounded a little strained.

"We can meet another time, if you'd rather not..."

"It's fine," she interrupted. "I'll bring Ema. I'm sure Maya could do with a friendly face her age. I have to run, but I'll talk with you later."

Miles found himself staring at his phone in bemusement for some time after the call ended. Lana had known Mia Fey. Been friends with her if that reaction was any indication. He was childhood friends with Mia's successor, Phoenix... sometimes it really seemed to be a very small world indeed.

Miles does finally get to talk to a conscious Phoenix Wright that afternoon. But he's so loopy from the morphine that it's more entertainment than productive. But he gets to see Phoenix's eyes open and hear Phoenix's voice joke about having a weather barometer in his shoulder.

"Bet I'll be more accurate than the weather forecasts."

"Bet you'll wish it wasn't," Miles retorted. "No one likes an aching shoulder."

"Eh, I'll live with it." Phoenix reached out with his good hand and caught Miles' wrist in a loose grasp. "I'm gonna be fine. You told me to stay. I stayed. I'm gonna be fine." His smile is so drugged it's not even funny. "Thanks for looking after Maya for me. Didn't want her alone through this."

When Phoenix falls asleep again, Miles finds himself shaking and he can't seem to stop until he stands and paces in the hallway.

"He woke up again, for a few minutes," he tells Maya when she finds him still pacing and restless when she returns from her coffee break. "He seemed coherent, if very high."

She snorted, giving him a watery smile. "Was it the thing about his shoulder and the weather again?"

"Yeah."

"He's an idiot," she said quietly. He's our idiot went unsaid, but Miles could practically hear the sentiment anyway.

Dinner with Lana and Ema is nice. Lana was right about Ema and Maya getting along and Miles is relieved to be in adult company with some who isn't Larry. The man had dropped by between his morning job and afternoon gig and had been far too obnoxious for Miles' nerves.

They don't talk about Manfred von Karma or Mia Fey. Instead, Lana lets Miles know that he's officially on leave. Ema's the one who asks how Miles ended up with a rookie defense attorney for his lawyer, however.

"I've known Phoenix a very long time," Miles admitted, perhaps a bit pleased at the surprise that appears on Lana's face. "I attended school with him before... before my father's death. He's as stubborn now as he was then. And just as kind. Since I wouldn't defend myself, he insisted on doing it for me."

"I'm glad he did," Lana told him. And she looked to Maya. "And I'm very glad that he's going to be okay. He pulled off a miracle in that court room and didn't deserve what happened after."

Maya let out a little sobbing sound and Ema was quick to wrap her in a hug. She doesn't burst into tears, though, and thanks Lana for her kind words once Maya pulls herself together again. She trades phone numbers with Emma before leaving with Miles when dinner ended.

Miles dreams are disjointed that night, his sleep restless and his mind still trying to make sense of the events of the last few days - and months and years...

The state of mind he'd been in when Phoenix came to him at the detention center had, in retrospect, not been the healthiest. Don't help me. I don't need help. I don't need you. What I need is to be punished for what I did. Please... don't save me.

Phoenix had ignored Miles every unspoken plea. He'd believed in Miles when no one else did. When even Miles couldn't believe in himself. And that faith got to him, somehow. Kindled a tiny, flickering hope deep in Miles chest. The wish to be someone worth saving. So when Phoenix came back after investigating the lake and insisted on representing Miles in court... he agreed.

And Phoenix had left no stone unturned. Dragged every detail into the light, even when it dredged up the events that cost Maya Fey her relationship with her mother.

That left Miles tossing and turning too. The girl in his guest room had been in many ways just as harmed by the DL-6 case as Miles had been. Her family torn apart, a mother she hadn't seen in years. Not dead, but gone all the same.

Miles didn't know if he believed in Spirit Mediums. Maybe the Fey matriarch had been a liar and a fraud as he'd always told himself. Or maybe her powers were real and Gregory Edgeworth had lied in the belief that he was protecting his son from the grave... and in doing so caused another family untold pain.

He didn't know how to talk to the girl about any of that. But he probably should. If he'd learned anything from the last few days, it was that lancing a festering wound helped draw out the lingering poison and let it finally heal.

It was with that resolution in mind that Miles finally fell asleep, dreaming of the determination that brought unseen truths to light.

"Nick, what are you looking at?" Maya asked, her usually chipper voice quiet and subdued. "It's over, isn't it?"

Miles looked over to see Phoenix pouring over his case notes. "Hmm? Oh. Rechecking the evidence. Getting the case ready to argue when we go back in there." Phoenix looked a bit surprised she'd even asked. "I'm not conceding this any more than Gumshoe is. Maybe you killed your father by accident, Miles. But I doubt it. And I intend to see this case through to the end, if you'll let me."

Reluctantly, Miles nodded. "Very well. If you think there's something in there that will change what's plagued my nightmares all these years..."

"Nightmares aren't reality. And memories are surprisingly fragile things. You tell yourself something untrue happened long enough and you start to remember it happening that way after all." He was staring at a photograph from the court record with an almost curious expression on his face. "I think the evidence we need is already right here in front of us. We just have to... look at it in a new light, is all."

Phoenix looked up, then, meeting Miles eyes. "Let me prove to you, Miles. Your nightmares aren't real."

Over breakfast, Maya gave Miles the very opportunity he'd resolved to find the night before.

"Once Phoenix doesn't need an extra set of hands to help him out anymore, I'll be going back to the Kurain Village to finish my training. I know you probably don't really believe in spirit mediums, after what happened with your father's case, but I think I can help Phoenix out better if I were a stronger medium and..." she ducked her head, "I have a duty to my village."

"He'll understand when you tell him, though I know Phoenix will miss having you around. I can keep an eye on him in your absence," he offered, hoping that might raise her spirits.

It does. She smiles shyly up at him. "Thank you, Mr. Edgeworth."

"I think, perhaps, you could call me Miles. If you liked," he offered.

"Miles," Maya repeated slowly, thoughtfully. "I'll try. Habits are hard to break, after all."

"They are," he agreed quietly. "I'm sorry, about what the DL-6 case did to your mother's reputation. I don't know if I believe in the powers your family possesses or not, but I do know that I'm very sorry that what happened drove your mother away. She was kind to me, the one time I met her. And if she really did channel my father, then he lied to protect me."

"Don't apologize for that," Maya cut in. "Parents are supposed to protect their kids. My mother is the one who decided to handle the perceived dishonor by running away. I love her and I miss her and I thought for the longest time she was... she was dead. And that I couldn't channel her because of problems with my abilities. But she's still alive out there somewhere. Choosing every day not to be a part of my life. Choosing not to be part of Mia's life, if she doesn't know that... that Mia..." Maya took a shuddering breath and continued. "It's not your father's fault. And it's not yours either, Miles.

"I love her and I miss her... but I don't forgive her either. And I won't do your family the dishonor of shifting the blame for her choices onto you."

"You're a very remarkable person," Miles finally said, feeling rather out of his depth entirely. "Phoenix is lucky to have you on his side."

Phoenix is tired of the hospital by the time Miles and Maya show up the following morning.

"They won't let me check myself out," Phoenix complained.

"Imagine that," Miles drawled. "They want to keep you for observation after you were shot and had major surgery."

"Do you have to phrase it like that?" Phoenix grumbled petulantly. He wanted to go home. He wanted his own bed.

"He does," Maya said firmly. "I'm glad you're feeling better, though." She came around to, very carefully, hug Phoenix on his good side.

Miles, however, stood awkwardly off to the side. Not that Phoenix was expecting hugs from that quarter.

"I'm going to go hit the ladies room, but I will be right back," Maya promised, disappearing out the door seconds later.

"It's good to see you more alert," Miles observed, finally coming to sit in the visitors chair. Determinedly not looking at Phoenix's injured shoulder as he did so.

"My brain is still all fuzzy," Phoenix admitted. "But I'm definitely doing better today. Do I sound coherent? Because I feel coherent."

That earns him a snort of amusement. But then Miles said, "I'm sorry, Phoenix. What happened to you is my fault."

"Your fault?" Phoenix echoed in confusion. "Uh, Miles? Von Karma shot me. Not you. What happened isn't your fault. Not even slightly."

"I feel like it's my fault, then," Miles retorted. "He shot you to hurt me."

"I'm pretty sure he shot me because he couldn't handle losing in court."

"Either way, it was a final act of vengeance before being taken to jail. He's pled guilty, so you won't have to attend any trials to testify about how he shot you." Miles looked distant for a moment and shivered. "He's angling for the death sentence for himself."

"And he doesn't care what any of this does to you," Phoenix muttered, angry on Miles behalf since the prosecutor was staying so calm about it. Maybe Miles needed to stay calm and rational for his own sake, but Phoenix could be upset for both their sakes just fine.

"Why should he? I shot him all those years ago."

"And he raised you afterwards. He should have some kind of affection for you at least." Phoenix sighed and shook his head, letting it drop.

"What made you so certain?" Miles asked abruptly.

"Certain about what?"

"About me? After how much I've changed? How could you be so sure I was innocent?"

Phoenix smiled, feeling tiredness creeping up on him along the edges and making his expressions even more unguarded than normal. "Because you're still you, Miles. We're not the kids we used to be and I know that means we can't have the friendship we did as children. But everything that makes you... you is still there. And I'd like to be friends with the person you are now. If any of that makes sense despite the drugs. Because I feel like I should remind you I'm pretty high right now."

Miles laughed. Really, truly laughed. And it was a very nice sound indeed.

"You're making sense," Edgeworth assured him. "And... I find that I would like that too. To get to know the person you've become."

"Thanks," Phoenix said, hiding a yawn behind his good hand. Hopefully Maya wouldn't mind if he fell asleep before she came back...