A/N: Major spoilers all the way through AA6, and minor spoilers for AAI1, as in, literally the second scene of the first case & a background detail from the second case. I haven't finished AAI2 yet, so if anything conflicts with it, that's why. TW for panic attacks.
(1.)
Miles Edgeworth has never liked children. They're noisy, and he prefers quiet. They're messy, and he prefers his life clean when he can manage it, all of his possessions neatened into some semblance of order that will inevitably be disturbed by the next murder case. They're unpredictable, and he prefers people to be easy to decipher. He's aware his and Franziska's upbringing left them deficient in some areas of social interaction, so he prefers his conversations impersonal, focused, easy to navigate and requiring little vulnerability from either side. Children were emotional, and curious, and unfocused, and had a habit of making his life very difficult.
Miles Edgeworth has never liked children, but Phoenix Wright has a child now, so he will have to like this child.
She isn't hard to like, thankfully. He's called away to Europe on business before he can meet Trucy more than a few times, but she's a much better conversationalist than most children her age, and very intelligent. Wright is surprisingly adept at being a parent, and Miles can tell they make each other genuinely happy, no small feat considering what they'd both been through. Miles likes Trucy in spite of his general dislike for children, so, when he asks Wright to help him with a case in London during Trucy's summer break, he has little qualms in inviting Trucy to come with them.
Then, Wright gets sick.
It's intended to be the first day of their investigation, and Miles is working his way through case files in his makeshift London office when his phone begins jingling a familiar song. He answers automatically- he's expecting a call from the police. "Edgeworth speaking."
"Hey, Edgeworth," Wright says. His tone is cheerful, but he sounds raspy. "I think I caught something on the plane. Can we pick things up tomorrow?"
"Of course," Miles says, already mentally restructuring his schedule for what Wright can help with tomorrow, and what he can get done while Wright is sick. Then, he realizes he's being impolite. "Would you like me to bring you anything? Cold medicine, or...?"
"That sounds great," Wright says, tone amused, and Miles scowls. "There's something else, too."
"Oh?"
Wright sneezes, loudly enough to make Miles jump. "Wright, would you mind doing that away from the phone?"
"Sorry," Wright says thickly, and Miles's irritation fades. "Can you look after Trucy for a little while today?"
"Trucy?"
"I know you're busy," Wright continues. "She's bouncing off the walls today, though. She was so excited to come to London, I don't think she wants to stay in the hotel room all day with her sick dad." He sneezes again, away from the phone this time. "Besides, I could really use a nap."
Miles doesn't respond immediately. Nerves bubble up inside him as he pictures himself alone with Trucy, trying to keep her entertained, and Trucy, inevitably getting bored or him, inevitably saying something curt, and then Trucy, running home at the end of the day in tears to a furious Wright.
"She loves you," Wright says, as if anticipating his thoughts. "It doesn't have to be anything big, just take her to the zoo or something. I know you're busy-"
"No, I can take her," Miles says. "We're not on a tight deadline. There are a few places around London that I'm sure she'd enjoy visiting." After everything Wright has done for him, and especially after the Gramarye trial, he'd do just about anything to give Phoenix support.
"Great, thank you." Miles can tell he's made the right choice by the exhausted relief in Wright's voice. "I'll go tell her, she's going to be thrilled. Thank you, Edgeworth, seriously."
"It's nothing," he says. He hangs up after promising to bring some cold medicine when he picks Trucy up, and stares at the phone in his hand, unseeing.
There's no issue here. It's only a few hours. Most people are capable of entertaining a child for a few hours.
Miles considers himself many things, but capable of entertaining a child for a few hours is not among them.
It's a surprise, then, when things go smoothly. He manages, with a few phone calls, to book last-minute tickets to some sort of tour-show hybrid at a magic museum, and Trucy is ecstatic. She's entranced by the show, and awed by the artifacts of famous magicians dotted around the exhibit. She loves when Miles asks questions about certain magicians or magic tricks, and she loves smiling mysteriously and refusing to answer even more. The museum staff seem to enjoy her immensely even before the Gramarye connection is made, and Trucy is delighted when they ask her to perform a few tricks.
One of the staff members, an older woman, sidles up next to Miles as Trucy whips out Mr. Hat."I followed that dreadful trial," she says. "Poor thing, having her family fall apart like that, and that crooked defense attorney didn't help." She clicks her tongue. "You're the father, aren't you? I'm glad she found someone to take her in."
Miles's brain, already preparing a retort for the 'crooked defense attorney' comment, stutters to a halt. "Father?"
"Well, adopted, of course," the woman says. "You two seemed- I'm sorry, I just assumed."
An incongruous panic rises up in Miles's throat, and he forces it down. "I'm not her father, adopted or otherwise," he says shortly. "I'm simply looking after her for the day. That crooked defense attorney is a good man who was too trusting to realize his evidence was forged. He took her in and has been a wonderful adopted father to her."
"Oh." the woman says. She's watching Trucy, and Miles knows she sees what he sees- Trucy is clean, well-fed, dressed in more than rags, and, most importantly, happy. "I'm sorry, it looks like I was mistaken."
Yes, you were, Miles almost growls, but Trucy comes bounding back over to them.
"Mr. Edgeworth, Daddy promised me you'd take me out for lunch!" she says with a grin.
Miles has no memory of Wright making such a promise, and Trucy's smile gives him the distinct feeling that he's being conned. Still, Wright really did look like he could use the sleep.
He's unsure how to satisfy an eight-year-old's palate, so they walk to the most American place he can find in the area. The whole way there, Trucy chatters excitedly about the museum, the Gramarye troupe, and the rest of London, and Miles does his best to follow along while keeping her enthusiasm from carrying her out into the street. This is fine, he thinks. This is easy. What was I so concerned about?
The answer comes toward the end of lunch. Trucy is halfway through the most fried thing on the menu when she adds, "Magic can be really dangerous, too."
"Oh?" Miles asks, picking at the least fried thing on the menu with a knife and fork. He thinks back to the museum exhibit. "The...swords and the fire, I assume?"
Trucy shakes her head. "The disappearing tricks." She swallows a bite of food before continuing. "Did you know Mommy disappeared during a magic trick?"
Miles's mouth is suddenly dry. He sets down his utensils. "No."
Trucy nods, still smiling. How can she be smiling? "I guess she made a mistake, because she didn't know how to get back. Do you think that's what happened to Daddy?"
Miles knows she's not talking about Wright now, but he has no idea what to say. Trucy is watching him, though, smile a little too bright, and he's clearly expected to have some sort of response. "I never met your father."
Trucy leans forward. "Yeah, but Daddy says you're really smart, and good at solving mysteries. Do you think you can figure out what happened to Daddy?"
"Ms. Wright," Miles says, ignoring both Wright complimenting him behind his back and the double use of Daddy. "Trucy..."
He needs to focus, to figure out the proper answer to avoid traumatizing Wright's daughter, but his mind has drifted. He remembers, suddenly, being around Trucy's age, and sitting by the window of the Von Karma estate, daydreaming about seeing his father's car come down the driveway. He'd known even then that it was impossible, but that didn't stop him from reading by the window whenever he got a chance.
Trucy has deflated somewhat in his silence, gaze returning to her food. "I guess you can't," she says. "Daddy's a great magician. I bet no one can figure out his secrets."
Miles shoves the memory to the back of his mind where it belongs, and clears his throat. "Ms. Wright, there are many smart people out there looking for your father." Because he was a murder suspect, but the point stood."I spent some time myself trying to locate him."
He chances a glance at Trucy's face. She's not happy, but she's not crying, yet anyway. "Did you find any clues?" she asks.
By all appearances, the man had vanished into thin air. And asked his daughter to help him do it. "Did he tell you anything, before the trick?"
Trucy shakes her head, eyes still on her plate. "Daddy asked me that, too, and so did the police. He said he was going to do a grand vanishing illusion, and he wanted my help. He said he'd be gone for a while." She looks up at Miles, smiling again. "Do you think this is all part of his trick, and that's why no one can find him?"
"I..." It was probably too late to tell her to ask Wright, wasn't it? But Miles has no idea what to say.
"I guess it probably is," Trucy says, pushing her leftovers around her plate with her fork. "Do you think he misses me?"
"Of course," Miles says stiffly. "I can't imagine him not." Trucy's eyes return to her plate. "Ms. Wright, I hope you know that, no matter where your father is, Wright is not a magician, and is not planning any vanishing tricks. Neither is your aunt Maya, or your cousin Pearl."
"And you?" Trucy asks.
Miles nods. "I'm no magician, either."
A smile spreads on Trucy's face. "Yeah, Mr. Edgeworth, I can tell. You don't know anything about magicians!"
Just like that, she's back to her usual exuberance, teasing him for his lack of knowledge and complaining about all the boring non-magician history she's learning in school. Miles isn't sure if he's said all the right things, but he's equally unsure that there's anything he could have said to improve Trucy's situation. As he pays for their lunch, he wishes, as he occasionally does, that he knew better how to say the kind of sappy, affectionate absurdities Wright was so talented at.
While they walk back, though, Trucy takes his hand. Miles nearly pulls back out of surprise, but he catches himself just in time, and looks down at her. She's smiling up at him.
"I think, she says, "you should call me Trucy. Not Ms. Wright."
By the time they return to the hotel room, Miles is surprised to find himself in a better mood than he's been in for a long time. Trucy is loud, messy, unpredictable, and just as nosy as her adopted father, but, just like her adopted father, he can't find it in himself to care. He's almost sorry as they make their way down the hall to the Wrights' hotel room.
Wright answers after only a few knocks. His hair is tousled from sleep, there's a clear shadow of stubble along his chin, and he's wearing one of those disgusting t-shirts Miles always wishes he'd leave at home. "Daddy!" Trucy says, and hugs him like she hasn't seen him for ages.
"Hey, Trucy," Wright says with a laugh. He still sounds exhausted. "What, was Edgeworth really that bad?"
"No!" Trucy pulls back. "We had a ton of fun! He took me to a magic show, and a museum, and then we got lunch. I got to do some magic for the people at the museum, and-"
"Hey, hey, slow down," Wright says. His eyes flick up to Miles. "I hope she didn't wear you out too much?"
"Daddy, I can hear you!"
"No, not at all," Miles says. "Trucy was a delight." Trucy grins, and Wright raises his eyebrows at him in a way that makes Miles flush. "I look forward to spending more time with her."
"See, Daddy?" Trucy says, hands on her hips. "He likes me!"
"Trucy, I love you very much," Wright says, hooking an arm around his daughter and pressing a kiss to her head. Miles looks away, picking at his sleeve. "Anyone or anything who makes you think otherwise is a liar."
Trucy squirms out of his grasp. "Mr. Edgeworth, can you stay? We're going to watch some movies, and Daddy says he'll order room service and get us some ice cream!"
"The pinnacle of health food," Miles says, smirking at Wright.
"Give it a rest, Edgeworth, I'm sick." Wright coughs, more loudly than necessary.
Trucy ignores both of them. "So, are you gonna stay?"
The image surfaces in Miles's mind with surprising ease. He'd sit on the armchair by the window, and Trucy and Wright would sit on the bed, and they'd put on some ridiculous movie, and he and Wright would no doubt end up arguing over the finer points of the plot. Trucy might show him a few more tricks, or tease him a few more times about his lack of magic knowledge, with that same unguarded, affectionate smile she'd been wearing all day. Miles pictures it, and his stomach twists in panic, and he suddenly wishes he were anywhere but here.
Wright is already making excuses for him. "Edgeworth probably has a lot of work to do. We can see him again tomorrow."
Trucy frowns. "But tomorrow, you'll be working, too! It has to be today!"
"Trucy..." Wright begins.
"I'm afraid Wright is right," Miles says. "Next time, maybe. But I can come back for dinner tonight, if you like."
"Okay!" Trucy says, hugging him.
"I guess we'll see you tonight, then," Wright says. Miles can't tell if he's teasing him or just disbelieving. He's smiling, but there's a question in his eyes, and Miles shrugs in answer.
"I suppose so," Miles says, and then, for lack of any better way to end the conversation, he walks away.
He makes it halfway down the stairwell before the panic he's been keeping at bay all day returns with a vengeance. Miles stops, leaning against the wall, trying to root himself in his immediate surroundings, trying to not let his breathing get too out of control. This wasn't the kind of intensity he felt during earthquakes, but it was still unpleasant.
I don't understand. Everything went well. Why am I uneasy?
The answer never comes, and, after a few minutes, he manages to collect himself and finish his descent. He throws himself into the case for the next few hours, nearly forgetting about the supper he promised until Wright gives him a call. The meal goes fine, and Miles returns to his lodgings satisfied with the day, ready to continue the investigation tomorrow.
Miles doesn't have any nightmares that night that he can remember. Instead, he dreams of waiting at a window and seeing an empty car coming down the driveway. He wakes up just as the door opens, before anyone can climb out.
(Interlude: Voicemails)
"Hey, Edgeworth, it's Phoenix Wright. Tell me you're not in Europe. Trucy's dentist moved to a new place across town, and I can't find anyone to take her. If you're around, can you give her a ride?"
"Hey, Edgeworth, it's Phoenix. Trucy asked for a piece of magic equipment for her birthday, but it's only made in France. I wouldn't ask, but since you're there...never mind, you don't have to do anything. I'll, uh, talk to you later."
"Hey, Edgeworth, it's me. Trucy booked a magic show at the biggest venue she's ever performed for...it's great, but I think she's worried no one will show up. I know you're busy, but, uh, if you're free Thursday night, she'd love to see you. Only if you want to."
"Hi, Mr. Edgeworth! I have this new magic trick, and I've been practicing it on Daddy, but he's not as good at guessing my tricks as you, so I want to practice it for you, too! Do you want to see my magic panties?"
(Of course I can give her a ride, of course I can look for her gift, of course I can come to her show, of course I- your what?)
(2.)
Years fly by, in a whirlwind of cases, and trips to Europe, and holidays, and visits home. Trucy, against all odds, continues to like Miles, while Phoenix drifts further and further from the man Miles knew as a defense attorney. He comes back to himself when he's helping with cases (and he and Miles are carefully building a big one) but there's often something hard and distant in his eyes that Miles doesn't recognize. Still, when Apollo Justice enters the picture, Phoenix at least seems to be taking an interest in the courtroom again, and Miles is grateful for the improvement.
It's convenient, too, that it coincides with Miles's permanent return to the country. He's in the middle of unpacking his office when his phone rings. His first instinct is to ignore it- Franziska had called him earlier to inform him exactly what she thought about him leaving Europe for good, and he is not ready to have that conversation again. When his phone rings a second time, however, Miles sighs and accepts the inevitable.
"Edgeworth speaking."
"Hey, Edgeworth."
"Wright." Miles leans back against his desk. "Are you canceling again?" They'd been trying to coordinate a welcome-back dinner for days, but, between Phoenix's night shifts and Miles's busy schedule, they hadn't managed to find the time.
"Sorry," Phoenix says, and Miles's heart sinks a bit. "I was in a hit-and-run last night, and I-"
"You were what?" Miles jolts off of his desk, pacing forward. "Why didn't you tell me?"
Phoenix laughs, as though the situation is funny. "This is me telling you, Edgeworth."
He's clearly fine. He called, he's laughing, he once survived a forty-foot drop into a freezing river, he's clearly fine. "Wright, one of these days, your luck will run out."
"Thanks, Edgeworth, glad to hear you're worried about me," Phoenix says. "I'm fine. I sprained an ankle, but I'm fine. I just wanted to let you know."
Miles presses his fingers to the bridge of his nose. "I'm glad to hear. Have they caught the culprit?"
"Not yet. I sent the kid out to investigate. He seemed to want a mystery."
His flippant tone nearly makes Miles start in on an argument they'd had more than once lately, over a few things he'd heard about the Shadi Smith trial, but instead, he sighs. "How long will you be in the hospital? Would you like me to watch Trucy?"
"I've got that taken care of," Wright says. "There is one thing, though..."
"Yes?"
"Can you bring me something to read?" There's a smile in his voice. "Maya and Pearls brought me some Steel Samurai DVDs, but I can only watch those for so long. You know how boring that show is."
He's teasing Miles, and Miles makes an irritated noise. "Of course. Anything in particular?"
"Anything you like," Wright says, and yawns. "I'd love to try something new."
When Miles hangs up, his mind is still spinning from the details of the accident and how close of a call it had been. Wright hit a telephone pole headfirst, he shouldn't be alive. Immediately, Miles knows which book to buy- it was high time Phoenix took care of the issue, anyway.
"Here," Miles says, walking into the cramped hospital room. He drops the book on Phoenix's bed. "For you."
Phoenix smiles wearily. "Hey, Edgeworth." He picks up the book, examining it, and his eyebrows raise as he spots the title- Driver's Handbook. "What's this?"
"It's past time you learned how to drive," Miles says, folding his arms."This has gone for far too long. It's the latest edition, so it should help with the written test. If you need anyone to-"
Phoenix, for some reason, finds that amusing. "Hang on, Edgeworth, if you're trying to stop me from getting in any more car accidents, I don't think putting me behind the wheel will help."
Miles clenches his jaw. Is he being willfully obtuse? "Wright, the fact that you are in the hospital now is proof that you don't need a car to be in a car accident. If you are going to be hit by a car, it would be much safer to be driving."
"Good thing I'm not planning on being hit by any more cars, then," Phoenix says, setting the book on one of the stacks of DVDs. Miles opens his mouth, already preparing the hit-and-run statistics he'd researched, but Phoenix holds up a hand. "I'm fine, Edgeworth. I just sprained an ankle. It's my first car accident in thirty-three years."
"I'm aware," Miles says. "That does not guarantee it will be thirty-three years before the next accident."
Phoenix rubs his chin, looking thoughtful. "I'll be sixty-six, then, huh...hey, do people get senior discounts at the hospital?"
"Wright, this is important!" Miles snaps. Phoenix's eyes widen at his volume, and Miles takes a deep breath, trying to moderate his tone, wishing Wright would listen. "If next time happens sooner than you think, if you sustain more serious injuries- I don't think I need to tell you how many hit-and-run cases I've seen. I'm sure Detective Gumshoe would be happy to provide you the statistics-"
"That's enough, Edgeworth." Wright's expression hardens, the poker player taking over. "I said I'm fine. Thank you for the book, but I can take care of myself."
Can you? Miles almost asks, taking in Phoenix's disheveled appearance, but he knows that's not fair. "I should not have raised my voice," he says instead. "I am not trying to...to nag you, Wright, but I don't understand why you won't at least consider my point."
Wright looks away, gaze sweeping over the stacks of DVDs around the room. "You don't have a point," he says after a moment. "I'll be more careful. Trucy's making me wear reflective clothing the next time I go out at night." He laughs. "Sometimes I wonder who's taking care of who, there."
"You're her guardian," Miles says shortly. "You're taking care of her."
"Edgeworth, it was a joke," Wright says. "Of course I'm her guardian. I'm not-"
"Then I don't understand why you will not listen to me. If something were to happen to you, she-"
"I'm not listening to you because you're not making sense!" Wright says over him. "You've been driving for years, how many accidents have you been in?"
Miles scoffs. The truth was far too many fender benders, but it's a low blow. "And yet I'm still standing here. If I had been walking, or on a bike-"
"You might have a sprained ankle," Wright finishes. "Face it, I should be lecturing you about car accidents, not the other way around."
Cold fury settles in Miles's gut, traveling slowly up his spine. Wright's gaze is still somewhere to the left of the room, and Miles wishes he'd at least meet his eyes while insulting him. "I'm not lecturing you. I was simply-"
Wright shakes his head. "That's enough. I mean it."
Miles opens his mouth to argue, but he recognizes the set of the man's jaw all too well. "Wright, I will not have you die simply because you are too stubborn for your own good."
"I said, enough." Wright finally looks at him, and Miles thinks the room drops a few degrees from the chill in his stare. Then, Wright nods at the stacks of DVDs scattered around his bed. "Feel free to take some of these with you when you leave, I'm not going to watch them all. Just make sure you bring them back, or Maya will come after you."
Miles clenches his fists, wondering how he ever could have believed Wright would listen to logic and reason. He can't think of anything else to say that wouldn't worsen the situation, though, so he turns on his heel and leaves.
"Thanks for the visit, Edgeworth!" Wright calls out behind him. "Always great to see you!"
It takes every inch of Miles's self-control to not hurl something equally sarcastic back.
He and Phoenix don't speak to each other for a week, except for a short phone call to let Miles know he's out of the hospital and recovering quickly. Despite this, Miles still makes time in his day to attend Trucy's next magic show, because he has no desire to punish her for her father's obstinance. After her performance, he hovers toward the back of the room, hoping for an opportunity to congratulate her while Wright was distracted. Wright's injury complicated matters- usually, he'd be wandering around gathering her props while Trucy talked with friends who came to the show, but, tonight, with his sprained ankle, he seemed content to stay in his seat next to her. Miles is just considering slipping out when Trucy spots him.
"Mr. Edgeworth!" she says, loud enough that Wright turns around in his seat. "What are you doing hiding back there?"
That girl is too perceptive.
Miles strides to meet her, glancing at the small crowd around them. "I didn't want to interrupt," he says. Most of the group were engaged in their own conversations now, a few meandering towards the exit.
Trucy throws her arms around him. "You aren't interrupting! Thank you for coming to the show!"
"Of course," Miles says, returning the hug. "It was excellent as always. You'll have to explain to me later where the kitchen sink disappeared to."
Trucy steps back and fixes him with an expression of mock sternness, hands on her hips. "Now you know I can't do that, Mr. Edgeworth. A magician never reveals her secrets!"
It was an exchange they've had countless times over the years, but it never failed to bring a smile to Miles's face. He clears his throat, feeling Wright's eyes burning a hole in the side of his head. "I understand you were instrumental in helping Mr. Justice with the Kitaki case last week."
Trucy grins. "Did you see the trial? Polly did most of the work, but he couldn't have won without my magic panties!"
"Truce, I thought Apollo told you to stop saying that."
There's no avoiding it now. Miles nods at Wright. "Wright."
"Edgeworth," Wright says, returning the nod, and Miles wonders if he's being mocked.
Trucy's smile widens as she glances between them. "I've got to catch Bonny before she leaves! Wait here, Mr. Edgeworth, I'll be right back!" She darts off before Miles can protest.
That girl is really, really too perceptive.
He clears his throat again and pulls his phone out of his pocket. "I should-"
"Hang on, Edgeworth." Wright looks loose, relaxed, a far cry from his stony expression in Hickfield Clinic, so Miles waits as Wright pulls at his hat. "I know what you were trying to do, with the book."
Miles folds his arms, glancing over toward Trucy. "I overstepped," he says stiffly. "I apologize. You are of course free to do as you like, and you have proven yourself more than capable of surviving even the most absurd situations."
"Thanks, I think," Wright says. "Listen, I get it. You were worried about me. I said a few things I didn't mean back there. Trucy and I are lucky to have you to look after us."
Miles's fingers tighten on his arms. "Nngh," he says, for lack of a better response.
"I can't afford a car on a pianist's salary," Wright says, and that finally gets Miles to look at him. His tone is casual, but he's got an embarrassed smile on his face. "When my business with Gavin is finished, maybe I can get a better job."
"A better job," Miles repeats, a smile playing on his lips. "Dare I ask?"
"We'll see," Wright says, but his own smile has become genuine. He looks back toward Trucy, who's still deep in conversation, and Miles follows his gaze. He's trying to come up with something to say about Trucy's magic act when Phoenix adds, "Thank you for coming tonight. She really appreciated it."
"Your daughter is very talented at what she does," Miles says, watching as Trucy pulls a wallet out of her magic panties and hands it, laughing, to her friend. "I always enjoy attending her shows."
"Edgeworth..." Phoenix studies him, as though he's on the cusp of solving a particularly intricate mystery. It makes Miles intensely uncomfortable.
"What, Wright? Direct that gaze of your elsewhere."
"Sorry. Just, thanks." Phoenix says, tugging at his hat.
Miles pulls his phone out of his pocket again. "I have work to return to. Tell Trucy-"
"Tell me what?"
Miles flinches. Trucy, besides being too perceptive, also had an uncanny habit of sneaking up on people and laughing at their shock. Or maybe she only does that to me. "Ms. Wright- er- Trucy-"
"Are you leaving already?" Trucy asks. She shoots Phoenix a stern look. "Daddy, don't tell me you scared him off, I was going to ask if he wanted to get dinner with us!"
"Why do you assume I'm the scary one?" Phoenix says, with no real heat behind it.
"Come on, Daddy, everyone else might think Mr. Edgeworth is scary, but we know he's just a big softie!"
Miles chokes, and Wright, damn him, bursts into laughter. Trucy turns back to Miles, smiling innocently. "So, will you come get dinner with us? We'd love to have you, even if Daddy won't admit it!"
Miles straightens his posture, adjusting his glasses, which had slipped down his nose somewhere between Phoenix's stare and Trucy's comment. "I can't, I'm afraid."
Trucy pouts. "Not even to celebrate my show?"
"I'm sorry, I have work to get back to." Trucy's frown deepens, and Miles feels a pang of guilt. How does that face work every time? "Maybe next time, Ms. Wright." He turns to leave, gripping the program tightly in his hands.
"Trucy!" Trucy calls after him.
"I think you scared him off, Truce," Phoenix teases.
"I didn't! He always says next time!"
Phoenix responds with something about 'busy' and 'tight schedule', but Miles picks up his pace until he's out of earshot of their conversation. His mind is strangely blank as he leaves the building, and it isn't until he's in the parking lot that he realizes he's crumpled the program into a ball in his hands.
Miles blinks down at it, surprised and a little sad. He liked to hang onto Trucy's programs, and she seemed pleased to find them in a drawer whenever she and Phoenix visited one of his offices. He sighs, stuffing the remains of the program in his pocket, and unlocks the door to his car. As Miles sits, he notices his fingers are trembling.
I think you scared him off, Trucy.
I didn't! He always says next time!
Trucy and I are lucky to have you to look out for us.
Miles scowls, jamming the key in the ignition and starting the car. He switches on the radio as he peels out of the parking lot, just to have some background noise. Then he remembers Wright's comments about his driving and slows, if only to avoid proving Phoenix right.
Next time, he thinks. I wasn't scared off; there's nothing whatsoever scary about a dinner with friends. Next time, I'll clear my schedule for them.
The thought causes the back of his neck to prickle, and he huffs in annoyance and turns up the radio.
(Interlude: Voicemails)
"Hey, Edgeworth. I'm sure you know already, but, uh, the bar exam is coming up. I could really use some quiet time to study. Can you watch Trucy for a few nights so I can go to the library?"
"Hi, Mr. Edgeworth! We're throwing a big surprise party at the Agency this Saturday to celebrate Daddy getting his badge back! Do you want to come? I think he'd really love it if you showed up! Let me know, bye!"
"Hi, Mr. Edgeworth! I'm taking French now, and it's really hard! Daddy says he took French in college, but he doesn't remember any of it. You lived in France, right? Can you help me study?"
"Hey, Edgeworth. So...Maya's moving to Khura'in for a while. She probably told you that. But I'm calling because, well, Maya's been one of Trucy's emergency contacts for years, but since she's in Khura'in now, she can't- look, can I put you down as an emergency contact for Trucy? Call me back."
(Of course I can watch her, of course I can come, bien sûr...that means of course, Trucy; of course you can put my name down.)
(3.)
He manages dinner the next time, and a few times after that, but then his life takes another turn when he's promoted to Chief Prosecutor. It isn't a surprise, and he's grateful for the recognition after years of hard work, but, with the amount of reform the Prosecutor's Office needs, he has little time for anything else.
The day after the Phantom trial, Miles contemplates taking his first vacation since starting as Chief Prosecutor. Unfortunately, as much time as he'd spent tracking down the Phantom over the years, it seems he has even more to do now that the Phantom has finally been caught. He's so engrossed in paperwork and phone calls that he doesn't notice when early morning becomes late afternoon. He's barely aware of anything, until he hears Klavier Gavin's delighted voice outside in the hall. Miles registers how hungry he is at the exact moment someone knocks on the door.
"Come in." Miles removes his glasses, massaging his temples.
Klavier Gavin opens the door with a flourish. "Herr Edgeworth, you have a visitor!"
"What is it, Prosecutor Gavin?"
Gavin's smile doesn't waver. "Don't look so sour, Chief Prosecutor. I'm not your visitor, I just ran into her in the hallway." He steps aside, revealing Trucy Wright in the doorway, holding something behind her back.
"Trucy," Miles says, surprised. "Don't you have school?"
"It's winter break, Mr. Edgeworth," Trucy says, walking in, and Gavin winks at Miles and closes the door behind her.
"I see." Miles blinks, mind still catching up with his surroundings. He replaces his glasses. "I don't remember buzzing you in." Trucy smiles mischievously, and Miles can already hear her favorite phrase about magicians and secrets. "How can I help you, Trucy?"
"I'm just dropping this off," Trucy says, whipping out a brightly wrapped box from behind her back. She places it on Miles's desk, and Miles examines it with a raised eyebrow. "It's a Christmas present," she adds, taking a seat across from him.
"...Thank you." Miles pulls the package towards him, searches his desk for a letter opener, and begins slowly slicing through the tape.
Trucy huffs. "That's not how you open presents, Mr. Edgeworth!"
Miles shoots her a look he knows won't intimidate her, and sets the letter opener aside, carefully tearing the rest of the wrapping paper open. He's surprised to see a box containing some sort of portable chess set, covered in labels warning him about the choking hazard. Miles turns the box over in his hands, waiting for the punchline- something Steel-Samurai-related with a teasing note from her father, maybe, or some kind of magic trick that will make a loud noise and startle him. They haven't exchanged Christmas gifts before, and Trucy has never visited him on her own.
"It's a travel chess set," Trucy offers. "For the next time you fly to Europe. Daddy says you play chess against yourself on the plane sometimes."
How did Phoenix remember...?
"The pieces are magnetized to the board, so if there's turbulence, they won't fall over."
Miles abruptly realizes he hasn't said anything. "Thank you. This is...a very practical gift."
Trucy grins. "I told Daddy that's what you'd say! Oh, and one more thing..." She takes off her hat, rummaging inside with a look of concentration. After a moment, she pulls out a plastic bag, its contents far too large for her top hat, and sets it on his desk. Miles, who has long ceased to be surprised about the kinds of things this girl can pull out of different kinds of places, notes the Eldoon's Noodles emblazoned on the side as he takes the bag from Trucy. As soon as he opens it, the smell of food fills his office, and Miles' stomach rumbles embarrassingly loudly.
"This is..." he prompts.
Trucy nods. "Takeout from last night! Since you didn't come with us. Daddy told me how much you helped him yesterday when I was in the Space Center, so I thought you deserved some of our celebratory dinner."
In the Space Center?
It was an odd way to say 'when I was being held hostage' or 'when I was nearly murdered', but Miles thinks Trucy can be even more uncomfortable with emotional topics than he is. Tell her something comforting, he chides himself. Tell her you were concerned for her well-being.
It wouldn't be a lie. Between Simon Blackquill and the Phantom, he'd had a lot of personal interest in yesterday's events, but he wouldn't deny that Trucy's circumstances had raised the stakes even further. All he could think to do was his job as Chief Prosecutor while keeping Phoenix calm and focused, because he knew what that man was capable of in dire situations.
"You don't have to eat it if you don't want to, Mr. Edgeworth," Trucy says.
Miles shakes his head. "It seems I forgot my own lunch today. This is well-timed."
Trucy's smile widens, and she stands to go. "Okay! See you later, then!"
Say something. "Wait, Trucy."
"Don't worry, I didn't climb through the window to get here."
Miles's brow furrows. "That was never my assumption." Although it is now. "No, I...tell your father thank you for the help."
Trucy nods, and turns. "Okay, Mr. Edgeworth!"
"No. Wait." Trucy turns back around, and Miles realizes he has no idea what to say. The silence stretches on for a beat too long before he finally thinks of something. "Did I ever tell you about the time I was held at gunpoint in this very room?"
...Perhaps not the best opener.
Trucy, to her credit, takes the non sequitur in stride, glancing around as if she expects a mysterious gunman to jump out at any moment. "You were?"
Miles nods, gesturing toward the bookshelves. "Right there. I had returned to my office very late at night to find a corpse in this room. I was about to alert the police when an intruder made their presence known by pointing a gun at me."
"What'd you do?" Trucy asks, voice hushed.
The sensory details begin flooding back- the smell of blood, the pitch black of his office, the click of a gun behind him, the bone-weary exhaustion from the horrible day he'd had. He looks up at Trucy. "I acted as though it did not affect me. They shot at the wall, I presume to make clear how serious they were, and I informed them in no uncertain terms that they would not get away with killing me."
Trucy's smile reappears at that. "Did it work?"
"Yes," Miles says. "But..." He hesitates, trying to think of how to phrase it. Admit this for once in your life. The girl has been through far too much. "I felt...I'm sure your father has told you what I was like back then. I felt I could not express to anyone how frightened I was at that moment. The few friends who found out what happened were so concerned for my safety that I wound up reassuring them."
He pauses. Trucy's still smiling, but her eyes are darting around the room, anywhere but at him. "Should you ever..." he begins, pushing his glasses up his nose. "Should you ever wish to discuss what happen yesterday, I hope you know there are people in your life who will listen."
Trucy nods, turning to go.
"And have Mr. Gavin show you out," Miles adds. "The front door this time, please. And-" Miles removes his glasses, rubbing his eyes. "And I am very pleased to see you are doing well. I-" was worried about you, felt useless, but someone had to remain calm- "...thank you for the gifts."
Trucy's expression has softened. "Thank you, Mr. Edgeworth," she says quietly, and leaves.
After she's gone, he works his way through the meal she brought him while adding 'Christmas gift for Trucy' to his to do list. He's never been a fan of Eldoon's, but he must have been hungrier than he realized, because he finishes it before he can even think about saving some for later. When Gavin stops by to let him know he's escorted Trucy out the front door, Miles can't even bring himself to be bothered by Gavin's teasing comments about his new salt-filled diet.
He's unsurprised to see Phoenix's number blinking on his cell phone display half an hour later. "Edgeworth speaking."
"Hey, Edgeworth," Phoenix says. "Trucy said she stopped by your office."
"She did. She brought me lunch and a Christmas gift. Your daughter is very thoughtful, I have no idea where she gets it from."
"You're not upset?"
Miles frowns, leaning on his desk. "Should I be?"
He hears the embarrassed laugh in Phoenix's voice. "I know you don't like interruptions while you're working. I told her she should wait and give you the gift later, but-"
"Nonsense, most interruptions are not that pleasant." Miles says, and then, before he can think too hard about it, "Wright, I want to take you out to dinner to celebrate the end of this whole ordeal. Trucy is welcome to come if she likes."
A beat. "Edgeworth, are you feeling alright?"
"I'm not ill." Miles snaps, cheeks heating. "If you're not interested, then-"
"No, I'm, uh, interested," Phoenix says. There's an odd inflection in the way he says 'interested' that Miles doesn't quite understand. "I'll ask Trucy if she wants to come. I'm sure she'd be happy to have a night away from her dad's cooking."
They work out the details, and Miles returns to his mountain of paperwork in a much better mood than before. It isn't until an hour later, in the middle of a completely unrelated phone call, that Miles understands what's bothering him about the way Phoenix said the word 'interested'.
Did he think I was asking him to dinner in a romantic capacity?
Was I?
Certainly not, he would never ask Trucy along if it were intended to be a romantic setting. But-
"Chief Prosecutor?"
Miles blinks, realizing the other end of the line has gone silent. "I apologize, my mind was elsewhere," he says. "Could you repeat that?"
It most definitely was not a date, he decides, but the possibility that it could have been sticks in his mind. He finds himself returning to the thought over and over again, like a pebble in his shoe he just can't seem to shake. Even on the drive home, he's thinking about the way Phoenix said 'interested'. He wonders if Phoenix is thinking about it, too.
(Interlude: Voicemails)
"Hi, Mr. Edgeworth! I was thinking, I gave you that chess set, but I've never actually learned how to play chess! Can you teach me sometime? I'll bring lunch!"
"Hey, Edgeworth. So, Trucy's got a date. It's fine, everything's fine, it's- hey, would it be an abuse of power for you to check and see if her date's got a criminal record? Call me back."
"Hey, Edgeworth. Trucy's school called- she's sick, and they're sending her home early. Apollo and Athena and I are stuck in court, though, and it doesn't look like this trial will be over anytime soon. Can you pick her up?"
"Hi, Mr. Edgeworth! I've got a big test on Friday! I'm trying to study, but everyone here is being really loud...can I come study in your office this week? It's so quiet there! Let me know, bye!"
(Of course I can teach you, of course it would be an abuse of power, of course I can take her home, of course, Trucy...)
(...Stay as long as you like.)
(4.)
He doesn't forget the possibility of a date, but he doesn't act on it, either. Months pass, and life settles into something approaching normal, for whatever normal means for him. There are several more dinners, a few lunches, and plenty of magic shows. When Phoenix flies to Khur'ain to visit Maya, he asks Miles to check in with Trucy and the Agency every now and then, and Miles makes room in his schedule with no hesitation. His life is better than it's been in a long time.
Then, Phoenix arrives in Khur'ain, and it's impressive how quickly everything falls apart.
Miles doesn't have a television in his office, so he's unaware of what's happening until Gavin knocks on his door. "Come in," Miles calls.
Gavin pokes his head in. "Herr Wright's on the news," he says. "I thought you might want to see."
Miles's first instinct is to refuse, but Gavin sounds uncharacteristically serious, so Miles follows him. Gavin's got the news pulled up on one of the screens in his office, and he, Miles, and a few coworkers stand there watching as the newscaster explains how Phoenix Wright, on what was supposed to be a sightseeing trip, had somehow ended up standing in court in a country where defense attorneys were regularly executed, and had managed to pull off a win against none other than Gaspen Payne. Miles listens to all of this, and then he pulls out his cell phone and dials Phoenix's number.
There's no response. Miles growls, but before he can dial again, Gavin places a hand on his arm. "Edgeworth," Gavin says, indicating the television screen.
Trucy's face has replaced Phoenix's on the news graphic, and all the color drains out of Miles's cheeks as he listens to them use words like 'deadly accident' and 'involuntary manslaughter' to describe Trucy's latest magic act. He feels the eyes of the rest of the room on him.
When had his connection with the Wrights become public knowledge? Stupid question: when Trucy had started making excuses to drop by his office every other week.
"I have to make a few phone calls," he mutters, and walks out.
When he's safely behind the closed door of his office, Miles lets out a breath, trying to keep his mind calm and focused. He strides towards his desk, dialing Phoenix's number again, but there's still no response. He can't think straight, can't stop his mind from ping-ponging between the two problems.
Stop. Focus. Phoenix could have died, but he didn't. Trucy is the more pressing issue. Focus on that.
All the same, he keeps trying Phoenix's number as more complications begin to pile up around Trucy's case. The media seizes onto the scandal with a vicious intensity that leaves the prosecutor's office flooded with reporters, involuntary manslaughter becomes premeditated murder in the blink of an eye, and somehow, in the middle of everything, the Wright Anything Agency is apparently repossessed. Most frustrating of all is that Miles knows he can't visit Trucy, can't involve himself in the investigation, can't do anything except hope the truth is found in court, because the public scrutiny means any sign of favoritism on his part will deal a great blow to faith in the judicial system. After he's done his duty as Chief Prosecutor, he ends up pacing his office, silently cursing Phoenix for not picking up the phone.
When his cell phone finally rings, Miles nearly trips in his hurry to answer. "Edgeworth speaking."
"Hey, Edgeworth," Phoenix says, sounding out of breath. "I just got off the phone with Apollo- who's this prosecutor he's facing tomorrow, is he-"
"He's the best choice for the job," Miles says. He'd expected hearing Phoenix's voice to be a relief, but he's still furious. "I will not ask one of Ms. Wright's friends to prosecute her, and everyone else in this country seems to have decided she's guilty without reviewing the facts. I needed someone removed from the situation to run an unbiased trial. The only way to resolve these charges, should they be false-"
"Should they be false?" Phoenix repeats, disbelief in his voice. "Come on, Edgeworth, even you can't be that heartless."
Miles clenches his fists. Are we back to that again? He lowers his voice, too aware that, during high-profile cases like this one, the walls often had ears."Wright, what would you have me do right now? If there is any hint of corruption during this trial, it won't matter if Trucy is found not guilty, those murder charges will follow her for the rest of her life, and everything we have worked to build since the end of the dark age of the law will be ruined. I am certain I have made my feelings toward Trucy perfectly clear, but as for the truth of this incident, I cannot express an opinion either way until all the facts have been revealed. This trial will not be biased, either by my own feelings or that of the public."
"Break her out of prison," Phoenix offers.
"What?" Miles leans against his desk, rubbing his forehead.
"You asked what I want you to do...it was a joke, Edgeworth." Miles rolls his eyes, but he takes the comment as a peace offering. "This prosecutor is from Khur'ain, isn't he?"
"Yes," Miles says reluctantly. "Believe me, I am aware of the atrocious state of the legal system over there, but I have thoroughly vetted him, and he appears to be a fair man. I have faith he will pursue the truth tomorrow."
"Are you sure?" Phoenix asks. "I don't know if they believe in not guilty verdicts here."
Miles removes his glasses, closing his eyes. He's had the same discussion more than once in the past few hours, and it always led to the same conclusion. He doesn't trust anyone else to run the trial without bias, and no one else trusts him to make the decision, anyway. "There is only so much I can do, Phoenix," he says. "The judicial system does not run on my feelings. At the very least, in a country with no defense attorneys, I doubt he'll have had any reason to make a habit of forged evidence or tampering with witnesses." Phoenix doesn't respond, and Miles sighs. "When are you getting back?"
"I'm not," Phoenix says. "Not unless things go badly tomorrow. Apollo's taking the lead on this trial, I'm-"
"You intend to stay?" Miles says, replacing his glasses. "You can't be serious."
"I have faith in Apollo," Phoenix says. "He's grown a lot as a defense attorney over the past two years. If I flew back tonight, I'd never be able to prepare in time. I'd be useless in court tomorrow."
I very much doubt that. "Wright, are you seriously telling me that you're planning on staying in the country where you were nearly killed for being a defense attorney?"
"You heard about that." Phoenix's tone isn't nearly as concerned as it should be, and Miles feels furious all over again.
"What on earth were you thinking?" he hisses. "Taking that trial, with their laws on defense attorneys-"
"I didn't know?" Phoenix says, as though he's been caught sleeping in class.
"You didn't-"
"Edgeworth, the kid was nine years old," Phoenix says. "He was accused of murder, and no one was defending him. I wasn't going to let him get the death penalty without a fair trial."
"There is no such thing as a fair trial in Khu'rain, Wright," Miles says. Unable to keep still, he pushes off his desk, stalking towards his bookshelves. He knows Phoenix's predilections toward defending those with no one on their side, and he knows he's just argued for another kind of fair trial, but this was different. "If they hadn't listened to your arguments, if they'd executed you on the spot for being a defense attorney-"
"They didn't," Phoenix says, far too calmly. "That's not what the law is, and you know that. They weren't thrilled with me for defending the kid, but the judge was willing to hear me out. I think I made a dent in the public's opinion, too. Maybe-"
It's his business, not mine, Miles thinks as he listens to Phoenix talk. He is fully capable of taking care of himself. It was his decision to take that risk- his decision- "And what would have happened if you'd lost?"
"I guess we wouldn't be having this conversation."
Miles scowls. "This is not a laughing matter."
"Honestly, I thought you of all people would understand," Phoenix says after a moment. "Weren't we just talking about the importance of an unbiased trial?"
"That's not fair."
"I didn't mean it like that." Phoenix sounds tired now. "I think you're making the best call you can under the circumstances. I don't know what else I could've done, Edgeworth. There was no one else in the country who would have defended him. I couldn't let him get convicted of murder without a proper trial."
Miles closes his eyes. Every fiber in his being knows Phoenix is right, and furthermore, that he should not be arguing with a man whose daughter was on trial for murder. He sags into a seat on the couch. "Come home, Wright. Trucy needs you."
"Trucy will be fine, I trust Apollo and Athena," Phoenix says. "I'm just here for a few weeks until the end of Maya's training, and then I'll be home. I'm not looking for any more trouble."
"Wright, you're a magnet for trouble." Phoenix chuckles, and Miles shakes his head. "Promise me you won't get mixed up in any more trials or, God forbid, this revolution business. You might not get so lucky next time, and Trucy needs you home safe."
"You know I can't promise that," Phoenix says.
Miles knows, because promising not to defend those in need would go against everything Phoenix stood for. Miles also knows, however, that he's never felt so helpless as he has in the past several hours since the news broadcast.
"I'll try," Phoenix adds, after a moment. "I just wanted a vacation, you know. And if I need a fast flight out, I know who to call."
His voice is light, too light- hey, look how casual this conversation is! Miles straightens in his seat, forcing his usual businesslike, professional tone. "That offer still stands, Wright." He checks his watch, even though he knows Phoenix can't see the motion. "Listen, I have work to get back to, but I'll call you tomorrow, after the-"
"Hey, Miles," Phoenix says, and Miles stills. "It's okay to say you're worried about me, you know."
Miles is too worn out to sidestep it. "I am," he says. "But it's not just you."
"Trucy? Apollo will-"
"It's not just her trial." Miles rubs the bridge of his nose. "I will not have that girl losing any more parents. I know firsthand what it's like to lose a father too young, and I have no desire to see her..."
Turn out like me, he thinks, with sudden clarity, and then, Is that what this is about?
He clears his throat, because Phoenix hasn't responded. "I would rather you not throw yourself into harm's way, Phoenix. I understand your reasoning, and I hope you understand mine." Phoenix still doesn't speak, and Miles picks at a loose thread on the couch. "Say something, Wright. Please."
"I understand, Miles," Phoenix says, and Miles doesn't miss the pointed use of his first name. "Maya and I agreed a long time ago that Trucy would have the option of living in Kurain if something happened to me, and if not Kurain, I have other family who'd be willing to take her in. She's got Apollo and Athena, now, too." His voice takes on a wry note. "Would you believe I've actually thought things through this time?"
"I didn't mean to imply-"
"I know," Phoenix says. "Trucy won't end up alone, I promise."
Miles feels the muscles in his shoulders loosen, his fingers unclenching from his palms, his breathing slow. "That doesn't mean you should be throwing yourself into danger."
"I'll try my best."
He's more than ready to end the conversation there, but Phoenix says, "Hey, Miles."
"Mmm?"
"There's something I've been meaning to talk to you about." His voice is hesitant, a far cry from the calm, reassuring tone he'd had moments ago. "I don't think it's a conversation we should have over the phone."
Miles straightens in his seat, wondering if he's interpreting Phoenix's words correctly. "When you return home, I can take you out to dinner, and we can have this discussion, if you like," he says. "Just the two of us."
He knows Phoenix well enough by now to tell the man is smiling. "Okay."
"But you have to come back for that," Miles says. "If you get yourself into any more trouble-"
"I know," Phoenix says. "I should probably call Apollo and Athena and see how they're doing. I'll talk to you tomorrow after the trial, okay?"
"Of course," Miles says. "I'll be sure to call." He hesitates, and adds, "Good night, Phoenix."
"Good night, Miles."
After he's hung up, Miles remains where he is, staring, unseeing, at the chess table opposite him. Nothing has changed- Trucy is still facing murder charges tomorrow, and Phoenix is still in danger with every minute he stays in that country- and yet, he feels as if a weight has been lifted off of his shoulders.
Gavin's in the hall, locking up his office, when Miles leaves for the night. Gavin smiles at him, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Gute Nacht, Herr Edgeworth," he says. "The truth will come out tomorrow, don't worry."
"I'm sure it will," Miles says, with confidence he almost feels, as he sweeps past. "Gute Nacht, Klavier, and thank you for your assistance today."
In the instant before the doorway to the stairwell closes behind Miles, he hears Gavin's keys clattering against the ground.
(+1)
Trucy is acquitted of all charges in a day. Miles takes her out to lunch, and they discuss what an idiot her father is, and why Miles couldn't visit her in the detention center. He comes away with an agreement about how to best handle the situation should it arise again, and an invitation to Trucy's next magic show.
Some time later, he and Phoenix get dinner, and have a discussion that turns into a series of negotiations over a year and a half that eventually ends with them getting married in a small, understated courthouse wedding, followed by a large reception where what feels like everyone Miles and Phoenix have ever known cram themselves into the offices of the Wright Anything Agency.
"What can I call you now?" Trucy says during the reception, a grin on her face and a glass of something Miles hopes isn't champagne in her hand. "It's weird calling you Mr. Edgeworth when you're married to Daddy."
"Of course not," Miles says immediately. "You can call me Miles."
Trucy's smile fades, and Miles realizes after a moment that he's missed something. She's called away before he can ask her to clarify, though, and she doesn't ask him the question again.
Truth be told, Miles is looking forward to the first Father's Day since the wedding. Trucy, home from college for the summer, drags him out to the store to buy gifts and cards for Phoenix, and then enlists his help in reserving dinner for the three of them at a nice restaurant. It's one of the more pleasant evenings he's had in a while. Despite how long he's been involved in Phoenix and Trucy's lives, despite the fact that all three had been living together for just under a year, he's still gratified whenever they invite him to share some new part of their world he'd always considered only for Phoenix and Trucy, like Father's Day.
It's also, certainly, the first Father's Day that he's looked forward to in decades. The day had been a bitter reminder for much of his adult life. He's happy to finally have a proper reason to celebrate.
"Happy Father's Day, Edgeworth," Klavier says, as Miles leaves his office for the night.
"Danke, Klavier," Miles says, not stopping.
"It's your first, isn't it?" Klavier calls.
Miles turns, adjusting his glasses. It takes his mind a moment to comprehend Klavier's meaning. "Trucy is in college now, she doesn't view me as that," he says. "I'm simply looking forward to celebrating with Wright."
Klavier's smile doesn't change. "Whatever you say, Chief Prosecutor."
Somehow, Miles is the last to know.
He's proud of his choice of restaurant. One of the many negotiations over the course of his and Phoenix's relationship had been balancing their very different culinary tastes. As it was Phoenix's day, Miles had chosen one more suited to Phoenix, but with several dishes he'd been looking forward to trying. He's rewarded with the smiles on Phoenix and Trucy's faces when they examine the menu.
"This is a step down for you, isn't it, Miles?" Phoenix says. "I can pronounce everything on the menu."
"Really?" Miles says. "Read me the wine specials, then." He pushes the menu toward Phoenix, and Phoenix swats his hand away.
"Come on, I can't take you two anywhere!" Trucy complains. "It's Father's Day, can't you stop making fun of each other?"
Phoenix actually looks contrite, slumping in his seat slightly. "Sorry, Trucy."
"Sorry," Miles echoes.
Toward the end of the meal, Trucy and Miles present Phoenix with cards and gifts- cufflinks from Miles, and Phoenix's favorite brand of coffee from Trucy. Then, to Miles's surprise, Phoenix and Trucy trade conspiratorial glances before pulling out cards and gifts of their own, and sliding them across the table towards Miles.
"What's this?" Miles asks, picking up the envelope from Trucy. His name is written on the outside.
Phoenix looks to Trucy, and Trucy smiles. "I thought since you're married to Daddy now, and after everything you've done for me and Daddy over the years, you deserved something, too!"
"Oh," Miles says. It still doesn't quite hit him, not until he opens the envelope and pulls out a card emblazoned with Happy Father's Day! in large, colorful letters. "Oh."
Trucy says something else, but Miles doesn't hear a word as he opens the card. Trucy's scrawled something on the inside, squeezed in under the generic Hallmark message- I know you said to call you Miles, but you'll always be Daddy #3 to me! Miles's throat tightens, his mouth going dry. The noise and heat of the restaurant is suddenly overwhelming, each clink of silverware jarring to his ears. He stands, nearly knocking over his chair, and Trucy and Phoenix fall silent.
"I'll be back," he mutters, and leaves.
He dodges past waiters and waiting customers on his way to the door, wanting desperately to be someplace where no eyes are on him. Even the cool evening air isn't enough to calm him, not yet, so he makes his way to his car and leans up against it, trying to focus on the sensation of the metal on his back, the smell of something being grilled inside the restaurant, anything besides the swirling thoughts in his mind.
I can't do this, he thinks. I can't do this to her-
-some example of Von Karma perfection you turned out, having a meltdown in the parking lot of a second-rate restaurant, wonder what he would say about you now-
-I can't, I'm not, I can't-
His throat feels like it's closing up. He'd hoped leaving the restaurant would make it easier to breathe past the tightness in his chest, but he's still struggling to keep himself steady. Remember to exhale, he reminds himself, trying to recall what a therapist had told him once. Focus on your senses. Try to ground yourself back in the moment.
I can't do this, it's not right, she doesn't deserve-
He pushes his glasses up to his forehead and presses his hands to his eyes, hard enough to hurt, but it distracts from the noise in his head. Somewhere to his left, he hears excited female voices, rising and falling in volume as they passed by him. Then, footsteps pound toward him, slapping against the pavement.
"Miles, where'd you-" Wright says. Phoenix, Miles reminds himself. "Hey, are you okay?"
What an obvious question. Still, wordlessly, he reaches out a hand, and Wright takes it. The car shifts slightly as the other man leans against it, next to him. Miles squeezes Wright's hand, trying to focus on his sweaty palm and the warmth of his nearness. Phoenix starts talking about something, and Miles can barely follow him, but the sound of his voice is enough for Miles's breathing to slowly begin settling back into its usual rhythm. After a minute, he's feeling under control again, if a ridiculous, shaky fool.
"-then Athena told me I can't just ask her to do chores all the time now that Apollo's in Khur'ain-"
"You can't," Miles says. His voice sounds foreign to him, too quiet. "You should learn to clean your own office sometime, Phoenix." He opens his eyes, pulling his glasses back down onto his nose.
"Hey," Phoenix says, offering a smile.
Miles doesn't smile back. Shame begins to flood in at the memory of what happened. Trucy had given him something incredibly thoughtful, and he'd responded by practically running out of the restaurant. "Is Trucy alright?" he asks.
"Later," Phoenix says. "What happened?"
Miles thinks back to the card again, and the message inside, and his gut twists. "I told you once I had no intention of ever getting married." He expects Phoenix to make a joke about the circumstances- he'd shouted the statement to the whole courtroom if he remembers correctly- but Phoenix is quiet. "I had no intention of pursuing fatherhood, either."
"Well..." Phoenix begins, and Miles hears the end of the sentence. Well, tough. Well, too late for that now. Well, you should have said that before you married me and moved in with me and my daughter.
"I realize that," Miles says. "My intentions have changed, clearly. I just did not want to become..." He can't quite say it. It amazes him how, even now, he still hasn't gained enough distance from the Von Karma household to be comfortable with topics like these.
Phoenix seems to be thinking along the same lines, and a familiar protectiveness surges into his voice. "I think you've become his worst nightmare, if anything. If he worked in the Prosecutor's Office now, you'd have fired him faster than you fired Gaspen Payne."
Miles huffs a laugh. "Maybe. But not him." He thinks for a second. "Not only him, at least."
"Then- oh," Phoenix says. "Uh."
He doesn't finish the thought. A car door slams somewhere in the parking lot, and an elderly couple crosses by them on their way to the door, sparing him and Phoenix a glance. He wonders what the two of them look like, leaning on the car holding hands. He wonders what Trucy looks like, still seated alone at the table, surrounded by Miles's unopened Father's Day gifts. We should get back, before she wonders where we are. Or gets stuck with the bill.
Phoenix, once again, demonstrates his uncanny ability to read Miles's mind. "We should get back," he says, pushing himself off of the car. "Let Trucy know what's going on. We can finish this conversation later tonight."
"Of course," Miles says, still holding onto Phoenix's hand as they walk back to the entrance.
Phoenix pulls him to a stop, turning to face him. "I'm not the only person you should talk to about this."
Miles looks away immediately, his free hand going to his elbow. "I'm not burdening her with that. It's not her responsibility to offer me emotional support."
"You walked out on her after she gave you a Father's Day card," Phoenix says. His smile is kind, but the protective father is evident in his voice. "She should at least know why. Anyway, she's an adult now, no matter how much I try and convince her otherwise."
"You're right," Miles mutters. "As usual."
"What was that?"
"I'm not repeating myself."
Which is how he ends up seated at the kitchen table, folding and unfolding his hands in front of him while Trucy and Phoenix put away leftovers and begin the business of settling down for the night. "I'm going to turn in early," Phoenix says, with a yawn too exaggerated to be genuine. He winks at Miles, and Miles feels a surge of affection for him as Trucy turns to follow.
"Trucy," Miles says. "Can I speak with you for a moment?"
"Sure!" Trucy says, sitting across from him, and, before he can say anything, she's already talking. "Sorry if you didn't like the card! Daddy and I wanted to surprise you, but I guess we should have asked first. If you don't-"
"Trucy, no, the card was very much appreciated," Miles cuts in. He recognizes the nervous undercurrent in her voice, and his guilt magnifies.
Trucy tilts her head, examining him. "You don't have to say that just because Daddy told you to, you know."
"I'm not," Miles says, stung. "And I'm sure your father would agree that I never do anything he tells me to."
That gets a laugh from Trucy. "Never? Didn't you pretend to be a defense attorney one time?"
"I suppose, but- how did you know about that?"
"Aunt Maya told me," Trucy says. "She says you even called him your partner."
Miles has no memory of Maya being present for that conversation, but Maya has a way of knowing too much about everyone else's private lives. "Nevertheless, that was not the case this time."
"Okay," Trucy says, looking down at the table.
Miles follows her gaze, wishing, at some point in his life, he had learned how to have this conversation. He'd gotten much better at discussing certain things with Phoenix, because Phoenix was patient, and Phoenix had a talent for drawing things out of him. Trucy shared his disdain for difficult subjects, but she was much more subtle about it than, say, Franziska- she'd simply smile and direct his attention someplace else, like a good magician.
"My behavior was not because your gift was unwanted," he says after a moment.
"You have a really funny way of saying things sometimes, you know," Trucy responds, fixing him with a look that was almost challenging. "You could say you like something instead of saying you don't dislike it."
"Point taken," Miles says. Prosecutor Edgeworth, please state the facts of the case. He clears his throat. "I had a panic attack in the restaurant parking lot. It was not your fault and you could not have anticipated it. I am...incredibly touched by the message in your card. If you still..." He can't quite find the words. "Give me time."
Trucy nods along, although there's an amused glint in her eye at his businesslike tone. "I do still," she says. "I'm sorry that Daddy and I sprang it on you in public, but I thought you knew. You're married to him, so you're my stepdaddy, aren't you?" She taps her chin, looking off into the corner of the kitchen. "Or my step-adopted-daddy, or maybe my adopted-step-daddy..."
"I admit I assumed that, as I became part of your family so late-"
"But you didn't!" Trucy says, leaning forward. "You've been a part of me and Daddy's family since the year I met Daddy, remember?"
Miles remembers. He sets his glasses down and rubs his eyes. "I'm sorry." He can't think of anything else to say.
"I don't want you to be sorry!" Trucy says, voice rising. "I just wanted you to know how I felt. You're really important to me, even before you married Daddy. I didn't know it would..." She bites her lip.
"You could not have known," Miles says, folding his arms on the table. "I was not aware I had that particular trigger."
Trucy's gaze is back to the tablecloth, and she's still worrying her lip between her teeth. "Do you think it'll happen again?" she asks.
The honest answer is that Miles doesn't know. It was his fault, really, for getting complacent. He'd been doing so much better than he had in a long time. It was only fitting for his past to catch up to him again, right when he'd let his guard down. Miles had been living in that cycle for most of his adult life.
But things have never been this good. "I will do my best to ensure that it does not," he says, and means it. He knows a lot more now than the twentysomething kid who had nightmares every night. He knows how and who to ask for help, and what to do when he was alone. More importantly, he knows that there are people in his life who genuinely care for his wellbeing, and that he can no longer skate by on the kind of bare-minimum unhealthy habits he'd maintained back then.
"You know you can tell Daddy and me about this stuff, right?" Trucy says.
Miles's gaze goes to his hands, resting on the table. "I...of course."
"No, I mean it," Trucy says, voice going stern. "Because you said one time that if I wanted to talk about being held hostage you would listen, but whenever you're frightened, you say something about work and run away from everyone."
Miles opens his mouth, closes it. "I find it easier to- to calm myself down if there isn't anyone else around."
"I mean, after things happen, too," Trucy says. "I mean, if Daddy and I hadn't been there when you opened the card, would you ever have told us about it?"
He knows the answer immediately, and it proves Trucy's point. "I am trying to do better."
"I know," Trucy says. "I just wanted you to know all that, too."
Miles nods, and Trucy stands. Before she can leave, though, he says, "Trucy."
"Yeah?" Trucy asks, turning.
Might as well. "You know the circumstances of my childhood, I'm sure," he says, and Trucy sits back down. "I lost my father when I was nine, and the man who adopted me was not kind. I..."
He pauses, and Trucy nods, gesturing for him to continue. Miles closes his eyes. He already wishes he hadn't brought this up. "I suppose I was always concerned, if I ever became a father myself, something might happen to me, or..." He rubs his temples. "I did not wish to inflict my childhood on anyone."
Trucy considers this, scrutinizing him with a look that was eerily similar to her father's. Or maybe he gets this look from her? "I already lost my daddy when I was eight," she says. "And Daddy isn't anything like your adopted dad, even if he's scary when you wake him up from a nap. And I don't think you're anything like him either, even if I never met him. Daddy told me about him, once, you know."
He had no idea, but it doesn't surprise him. Miles nods, not trusting his voice.
"And anyway, I don't think turning out like you would be the worst thing in the world," Trucy says, leaning forward. "I mean, I don't want all of it, and I never want to be a lawyer, but I like you a lot."
"Thank you," Miles manages. He intends to add something eloquent about how important she is to him, and how she can talk to him, too, and how grateful he is to have her in his life, but what comes out instead is, "I love you, Trucy."
He looks up in time to catch a smile blooming across Trucy's face. "I love you, too," she says. "Let me know if it's ever okay to call you Daddy."
"Something besides Daddy, perhaps? Phoenix is already-"
"Nope! Daddy." Trucy stands, and kisses him on the forehead. "Thank you for telling me. Um. All of it."
They exchange good nights, and she leaves. Miles lets out a long breath, feeling the tension of years lift off his shoulders. The practical part of his mind, present as always, reminds him that one conversation never fixed anything, and his problems have a way of returning to surprise him, over and over again. The rest of him doesn't particularly care.
He stays seated in the kitchen, staring at his hands on the table and listening to the clock tick by, until the image blurs before his eyes.
When he finally makes it to bed, he finds that Phoenix was telling the truth about turning in early. The man is already under the covers, snoring softly. Miles does his best to change and slip into bed silently, but Phoenix stirs anyway, reaching out an arm for him. "Miles?"
"Who else?" Miles says, shifting until he's comfortable.
"Guess I forgot to tell you about the affair," Phoenix mumbles into his pillow. It amazes Miles how, even while half-asleep, Phoenix still manages to say the most ridiculous things.
Phoenix opens his eyes, lifting himself off of the pillow. "Oh! How'd it go with Trucy?"
"Fine," Miles says. "Go back to sleep. We can talk in the morning."
Phoenix settles himself back down, but he apparently can't resist one more crack. "So, can I call you Daddy yet?"
"You? Never."
Phoenix's laughter shakes both of them, and, feeling a sudden burst of affection for him, Miles leans forward to press a kiss to his lips. Phoenix's eyes flutter back open. "What's that for?"
"Nothing," Miles says. "I love you. Go back to sleep."
Miles is expecting nightmares that night- they always came after he was so strongly reminded of his history, and even more so after panic attacks- but his subconscious has other plans. He only wakes up once, and all he remembers from his dream is a car coming down the driveway to a house he and Phoenix own, and friendly faces climbing out. Afterward, he sinks back into a dreamless sleep, and doesn't wake again until he hears Phoenix and Trucy bickering over breakfast in the kitchen.
A/N: The parallels between Edgeworth and Trucy have always fascinated me, especially after Trucy's breakdown during The Magical Turnabout. They both put up fronts to hide their true emotions, but Trucy's manifests as her happy-go-lucky, the-show-must-go-on persona, while Edgeworth's manifests...very differently lmao. Also, their few interactions during Turnabout Revolution just make me so curious about their dynamic. Trucy hid in Edgeworth's suitcase? And he kinda didn't give a shit? I know it was just meant to be a funny line, but still, Capcom, I'm dying for more Edgeworth and Trucy scenes.
Anyway, Trucy's been through some fucked up shit, and Edgeworth playing chess on the plane during Turnabout Airplanes is one of the funniest things he's ever done. Thank you so much for reading!