Into the Dawn - Chapter Five

Friday evening found Miles going over the contents of a small suitcase.

He slid his fingers back into his hair as he considered, trying to decide if there was anything else he should bring along; he wanted to be well-prepared, as always. They would only be staying the weekend, but even so he'd had to decline a case or two, as he wasn't sure how much time he would have to work. He had not a clue what the accommodations would be like, though Phoenix had assured him they would be comfortable. After all, he would not be the only human present - not by a long shot.

His hand went again to rest on the outfit Phoenix had picked out for him, an irritated frown forming on his face. He still didn't understand why he had to wear such a ridiculous getup! This was supposed to be a serious, professional gathering to discuss the future between humans and vampires, a situation of global proportions. Why, then, did he have to dress in-

"Ready to go?"

Miles sighed and flipped the suitcase closed, guiding the zipper around in a practiced motion. "Yes, I suppose so..." He felt Phoenix's arms coil around his waist from behind, and this time, he didn't flinch. He had been gradually growing more comfortable with all of this over the past week, and so he had no qualms about leaning into that embrace and putting much of his weight into his lover's arms.

Phoenix rested his chin on Miles' shoulder. "Oh, come on: you're not still upset about that outfit, are you?"

Miles grunted irritably. "If you wish to dress me like a gimp, I would rather keep it between us, behind closed doors. I have no desire to be paraded around in such a costume."

Phoenix sighed, lifting him right off the ground and turning to sit on the edge of the bed with Miles in his lap. "I won't be 'parading' you around, Miles, and no one is going to think anything of it. You'll fit in, and I promise you don't look like a gimp."

Miles drew in his knees and turned slightly so he could look back at his lover. "How exactly will I fit in at a political convention dressed in tight black leather?"

"Normally, you wouldn't," Phoenix explained, reaching up to absently toy with Miles' hair; he could never keep his hands to himself anymore when they were together, but Miles didn't mind. "But, we can't exactly do things the normal way. Just think about it: if a bunch of really well-dressed people start gathering, people might get curious, wonder what's going on. It might attract media attention, reporters trying to catch a glimpse of some important people. Instead, they'll find a bunch of really pale freaks talking about nonsense."

Miles blinked. "And... dressing in this fashion will solve this problem... how?"

Phoenix smirked a little. "C'mon, you remember 'goths' and 'emos' from when you were a teenager, right? Basically, the idea is to make everyone expect a bunch of pale freaks talking about nonsense. That way, the gathering doesn't draw as much attention. People just shrug it off and don't assume they'll find anyone important. And, if some people from that scene end up wandering in to join in the 'party' or whatever they think is going on, we can just hypnotize them. They aren't as likely to be carrying camcorders."

Miles quirked an eyebrow. "If I recall, most young people these days have smart phones with which they will not part so long as they draw breath. I would think teenagers would be more likely to be carrying cameras." He had never really been familiar with the styles of his peers, even during his teenage years. He had been home-schooled until starting classes at University, and even then he'd paid little attention to other students. What he knew about the 'scenes' Phoenix had mentioned was limited to portrayals on television, an unreliable source of which his knowledge was still limited.

Phoenix nodded. "Yeah, but that kind of situation is a lot easier to contain if we don't look like some kind of organized crime family. I mean, that's the sort of thing people will start thinking if they stumble on such a big formal gathering no one knew about, held in the middle of nowhere, in a building with no windows."

Miles gave his lover a strange look, then sighed in resignation. "I suppose it is hardly my place to question the methods of people who have been in hiding for centuries..."

Phoenix chuckled good-naturedly and tightened his grip, leaning in for an affectionate kiss. "It'll all work out. If anyone stares at you, it'll be because you are a very sexy man, not because you don't fit in." He grinned as Miles felt his cheeks heat up and averted his gaze. He hoped no one would stare for any reason. He really wanted to avoid notice until it became necessary for him to draw attention to himself... if it became necessary. He was still dubious about this entire arrangement, becoming a public face for human-vampire relations, but he saw no better options given their current circumstance.

"Now, let's get going," Phoenix murmured against his neck, where his kisses had traveled, "before I get distracted and make you too tired to drive."

Miles wasn't sure what he had been expecting. Perhaps an actual hotel, but in retrospect, that would have been highly impractical. On the outside, the building just looked like an old, windowless warehouse in the middle of a lot that was much too large, but the inside looked more like a ballroom. The decor was indeed rather Gothic, complete with several stone gargoyles perched about the hall near its high ceiling. The prosecutor did very little looking around, however, far too focused on keeping a wary eye on everyone he saw. He would not normally be so open as to latch himself onto Phoenix's arm in public, but there was no scenario in which he wanted to be separated from his lover in this environment. As far as he was concerned, being Phoenix's human was the only thing keeping him safe.

He saw both men and women of all races and walks of life milling about in the ballroom or heading in the same direction they were - toward the back corridor where an elevator and stairs waited to take them below ground. For those of Caucasian heritage, he was confident he could tell which were vampire and which were human, but those with darker complexions were more difficult to identify. Perhaps if he were closer, he would notice a difference in coloration, but he was not going to complain about any great distance between himself and another vampire.

As they neared the elevator, Miles felt his heart leap into his throat. It was a phobia he had still not overcome, and fortunately, Phoenix seemed to sense this, smoothly changing their course toward the stairwell instead. Miles slowly let out the sharp breath he'd taken in, releasing just a little tension with it; he could not completely relax while in such company.

Ironic: he was supposed to be a human representative for peace between the two species, and yet he was terrified of any vampire other than Phoenix.

They descended into what looked a little more like a hotel lobby, complete with a reception desk. A rather intimidating man stood guard near an opening at the other end of the room, arms folded and keen eyes surveying everyone. Phoenix approached the desk, behind which waited a woman whom Miles also instantly recognized as undead.

"Good evening. May I have your name?"

"Phoenix Wright."

She glanced down at a book before her, flipping through it momentarily and then nodding. "Ah, here you are. And is this your human?"

"Yes."

She nodded again and reached under the desk, producing a card key and sliding it toward them. "There you are. If you need anything, just dial the extension on the back there to talk to one of our staff. Enjoy your stay."

"Thanks." Phoenix finally dropped the cold professionalism he'd been holding and gave the woman one of his pleasant smiles before turning to walk toward the guarded hallway. He flashed the key, and the burly guard just nodded, waving them through. Once they had stepped into the hallway beyond, he glanced down at the key. "Okay, Room 22... Looks like it's this way." They veered right, their footsteps muffled by the dark gray carpeting. Miles watched each door go by, eager to reach their room and stay locked up inside of it until the meeting the following night. However, just as they neared the correct door, a voice stopped them.

"Phoenix Wright."

Miles tightened his grip on Phoenix's arm as they both turned to see a Hispanic woman approaching them, sporting a white blouse, a short plaid skirt, and heals that added several inches to her height. The moment Miles saw her eyes, he knew a vampire was advancing toward them, and he would have taken a step back would it not move him farther away from Phoenix. As she came to stand right in front of them, he did note that - while she was not pale - her skin tone was not as vibrant as a healthy, living person's would be; he assumed that vague gray tinge would color the flesh of any of the other undead with darker complexions.

"Mrs. Catarina Mendez," Wright greeted the woman with a friendly smile, giving her a handshake. "Good to see you again. Is your husband here?"

"Why, of course," the woman replied, reaching up to sweep some of her long, flowing black hair behind her shoulders. "He will be glad to know that Alastair's Progeny yet lives, and has come to join us, no less." Her Spanish accent was prominent, but it flowed well in her fluent English speech, making her easy to understand. Miles, however, was mostly paying attention to how her eyes were fixed on him. "And this must be your human, no?"

Phoenix reached over to place a hand on Miles' arm, both indicating him and trying to provide a little reassurance. "Yeah, this is Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth, an old friend and colleague of mine. The, uh... dynamic has changed a little, obviously."

"Mm..." Catarina stepped closer, much too close for comfort in Miles' opinion. "A prosecutor, you say? He looks like quite an important man, and... quite a treat." She gave him a smile he didn't like. "Say, Mr. Wright, once you get settled in, how about you come spend some time with my husband and I? We've got a nice Japanese chica you can try, and we can take a taste of your lovely little aristocrat." She reached up to trace a long, red fingernail just beneath his right eye, and though he wanted to give her one of his most intimidating glares, he felt like a deer caught in the headlights.

Fortunately, Phoenix put an end to this by drawing him back away from her a bit, enough to get her attention. "Sorry, Mrs. Mendez, but Miles isn't too keen on being passed around. We've kind of got a... serious thing going, if you get what i mean."

Her face worked itself into a pretty pout and she sighed. "Ah, how disappointing. Well, if you change your mind and want to have a little fun, our door is open. Room 14." She stepped forward again and leaned in, now speaking directly to Miles with a small grin. "Hope to see you later, darling." With that, she swept past him, her shoulder brushing his arm. Miles felt frozen, but Phoenix didn't linger, pulling him over toward their room and unlocking it.

As soon as the door was shut behind them, Miles felt a tremor go through his entire body and his knees nearly buckled, causing him to lean on the door to keep himself upright. His chest hurt it was so tight with anxiety, and the rush of relief after being away from it all was nauseating. He shut his eyes and took several deep breaths, trying to calm himself. When he felt strong arms wrap around his waist, he fell into them, leaning instead on Phoenix's shoulder and inhaling his scent with each breath.

"It's all right," Phoenix muttered, rubbing his back in a soothing manner. "No one here is going to touch you without my permission. They like to talk and tease, but you don't have to feel threatened in a place like this. There are rules, and they're enforced."

It took some time before Miles trusted his own voice, which still trembled when he did finally decide to speak. "I thought... these were vampires who believed we are their equals. So far, everyone has looked at me as if... as if..."

Phoenix gently hushed him, sliding an arm down behind his knees to lift him and carry him across the room to the large bed at the far wall. Despite being a grown man of the same relative size as Phoenix, Miles was cradled like a child in his lover's arms as he sat on the edge of the mattress. "Listen, Miles, it's... really hard to explain how we think, because it isn't really normal, er... human. The people here, they... Well, they understand that humans aren't just mindless animals and want to integrate themselves back into human society, but at the end of the day, humans are prey for us. People like Catarina tend to prefer humans that... uh... kinda' like the idea of that, I guess. They find people that let them indulge in their nature, and that's sort of the more common case. I'm... well... I'm kind of an oddball. Might have something to do with how recently I was turned, but..." He paused, lightly chewing his lip in thought. "Basically, they'd try to avoid holding a human captive against their will, but they'd find it really strange that I actually care about you and highly value your opinion on things."

Miles stared down at his hands, which he had clasped in his lap. He was calming down, but was still a bit shaky. "And with a mindset like that, how can they expect to be accepted into civilized society?"

Phoenix's initial response was a derisive snort which made Miles feel suddenly like a naive child, causing him to turn his face away. Phoenix changed his attitude quickly and lightly grasped his chin, turning it back and tilting it up so that their lips could meet. "Sorry," he muttered sheepishly. "It's just... I've learned a lot about people since I was turned, a side of humanity I sort of ignored in life. I guess it's not really a bad side, but a lot of people are a lot more depraved than you might think. And really, just look at how the depictions of vampires have changed in recent years; they're getting pretty close to what we're really like, and a lot of people are really into that. Besides, I think that if we can more freely interact with humans, it'd be a lot more likely that someone of my kind could actually find more meaningful relationships. Then, maybe the general attitudes of people would start to change."

Miles gazed silently up at the man whose shoulder his head lay against, studying his eyes and thinking. Since his disbarment and his change, Phoenix had become darker and more cynical in many ways. However, he still had hopes for a better future, still had ideals and virtues. It came as no surprise to Miles that he could avoid falling into line with the common way of thinking, that he had been able to retain so much of his humanity beyond his struggles with self-control. After all, if anyone could perform such a feat, Phoenix Wright could.

Miles let out a heavy sigh and shut his eyes, letting his body go slack. "I apologize... I would just... rather stay in here as often as possible. Despite agreeing to help with this co-existence movement, I do not feel safe here."

"I understand." Phoenix placed a hand on the side of his head, lightly toying with his hair. "We can just stay in here and watch awful TV. And..." Miles felt Phoenix's lips touch his temple. "...I don't have to leave you in the morning. I mean, I won't be very lively, I'm afraid, but I'll still make a good pillow."

Miles couldn't help but smile. As tense and uneasy as he felt in this place, Phoenix just had a way of lightening the mood. Plus, not having to wake up alone in the morning would be a nice change. The thought gave him a feeling of warmth and joy. Slowly, he reopened his eyes and lifted his head in order to finally look around. They were in what looked like a simple hotel room, complete with a television atop a chest of drawers, a bedside table and lamp, a kitchenette, a dining table, and a bathroom. These rooms were clearly designed with human occupants in mind, as vampires did not need such accommodations.

"Not exactly luxurious," Phoenix remarked as he lay back on the bed, letting Miles slide off to lie on his arm against his side, "but it's clean and it's got what you'll need."

Miles took another glance around, then looked back at his lover, a half-smirk on his lips. "Actually, compared to your usual sleeping arrangements, I do believe this could be considered luxury."

Phoenix let out a hearty laugh. "Yeah, i guess you're right."

"I have been wondering..." Miles readjusted himself to lie on his stomach, supported on his elbows. "Why exactly did you and your Maker sleep in that dank cellar? There were plenty of vacant rooms, all underground. I am beginning to think Alastair was simply one for theatrics, having you dress all in black and sleeping in a cave."

Phoenix chuckled with a wry grin. "Yeah, he kind of was, but he did explain why we slept down there. He said it was best we never get used to unnecessary comforts. He lived for almost a thousand years, and he told me that our kind never knows where they'll end up next. There aren't always comfortable places where the sun can't reach, so his opinion was to just get used to resting in primitive conditions."

Miles frowned in thought. "I... suppose there is some logic in that, given the experiences he must have had. However..." He shifted a little closer in order to press a kiss to the side of Phoenix's jaw. "I think perhaps it is time I see to making my basement a bit cozier. Then, perhaps we could spend some nights there, when I do not have any engagements the following morning." He watched as his words brought a smile to Phoenix's face, and he felt a bit of pressure on the back of his head, guiding him in for a proper kiss.

"That doesn't sound like a bad idea, love." Miles felt himself blushing, and Phoenix's smile became more of a mischievous grin. "What, don't like that one? How about sweetheart? Darling? Babe? Sugar? De-"

"S-stop it!" Face scarlet, Miles gave Phoenix's shoulder a hard shove, getting only a playful laugh in response. "Pet names are foolish." His cheeks were burning, and he couldn't look directly at the man responsible for it. The contrast in temperature was startling when Phoenix placed his hands on either side of his face, coaxing him to look back and lightly stroking a thumb over his lips.

"Oh, lighten up a little. You'll get used to it, and I'll try not to fit you with any of the really sappy ones." Phoenix slid his hands back into Miles' hair, bringing their lips together for another, longer kiss. When he broke it, he tilted his chin enough to let their foreheads touch. "I can't always be so formal with you, you know. You're far too adorable."

Miles hadn't thought the flush could get any darker, but he'd been very wrong. "Y-you're doing this on purpose," he stammered with an attempt at an accusatory glare.

Phoenix just chuckled. "Maybe a little, but it's still true." With that, he captured Miles' mouth again, this kiss more heated than the last. His hands moved down to Miles' back and pulled him in closer, clearly ready to forget about where they were for a while. Miles was certainly not about to argue, despite being tired from a day of work and the late hour.

Miles soon found himself on his back, hands eager to expose him and lips hungry at his neck. He briefly hoped the walls of this facility were well soundproofed, but he soon became lost in their passion and no longer cared.