ace attorney: the aphotic age

[a/n: post AA5 so spoilers, duh. MA for dark/morbid humor, some swearing. later chapters have alcohol/drug use, sexual innuendo, violence, adult themes in general. at the very bottom is another a/n about the few small changes to canon material…but it won't affect how you read this fic very much. I own nothing related to the Ace Attorney franchise so…]

[scene two: rebirth (7:05 PM)]

It was awkward to step outside into the real world as a free man again, unchained and unescorted. Blackquill tried not to express how oddly vulnerable the walk to this noodle shop made him feel. He tried to focus as hard as he could on the Wright girl's hostage story, and then to her accounts of one recent magic show to avoid the odd mix of emotions gurgling in his chest. He was happy, of course. But this was still so damn weird. Instead of waiting in his cell to die tomorrow, he was walking in a group of very loud people he barely knew along a busy street crowded with all shapes and sizes of people. Although his short excursions to court included seeing the occasional woman, it was still a location full of primarily male adults. Never small children, certainly no casual clothes, absolutely no one selling something with the help of their physique. And so many forgotten colors!

The professional world, outside of the odd Wright agency, tended to favor muted colors for their attire; and even they did not wear anything "revealing." People in this city seemed to wear just about anything in any color and every size—neon tube tops, short green shorts, fuchsia pullovers, tie-dye mini skirts, orange jewelry, turquoise hair, rainbow bandeaus, peach vests— he saw it all in one block. Billboards and advertisements flashing similar goods everywhere pummeled images into the civilians at a rapid-fire pace. A city bus pulled up even had an add in very poor taste showing two barely-covered adults embracing on a bed for a "hook-up" service. The entire way Simon struggled to fight the blush creeping up the back of his neck. He did not remember the world being so scandalous when he left it!

But at least there were dogs. He had forgotten how amusing these creatures looked in real life. The only ones he had seen, personally, in years were police-trained, well-behaved, dignified animals. He nearly lost-sight of the group when he literally had to pause and stare at a woman pushing a baby stroller with two ugly dogs dressed in people clothes. What. People accepted that kind of thing now?

Despite the fact that Simon was familiar with the route from the detention center to the courthouse, his police detail had always included black-out windows for some reason. Now he found himself struggling not to gawk at how high the buildings were like a fool. The detention center was only four stories high. And while the courthouse was more around ten, and the prosecutors office fourteen, he had not seen the outside of any tall buildings since his arraignment.

Add to the new sights the unfamiliar sensation of being able to move his arms about freely whenever he wished. Sure there were times in the clink where he could stretch out, but being such an imposing man meant extending his arms out to their full wingspan for very long was frowned upon. Not that he could stretch out in the crowded street, necessarily, but he knew he could if he wanted to. Just like how he could wander off at any minute and be alone at any time. He was unsure how he would handle that when he finally arrived somewhere quiet. Even in solitary, the clink still had the noise of other people close by; he had not truly experienced silence in forever.

He kept starting at the lack of chain-clinking sounds when he moved.

It was embarrassing how new this all felt.

He vaguely recalled similar feelings each time his family moved somewhere new. They had a term for it: "culture shock;" but Simon had never thought to apply the expression to something like this. He was supposed to be happy; not inexplicably anxious.

Luckily for him the small Wright and the other small Wright-associate seemed to both take him under their wings. They walked on either side of him and conversed with each other around him, occasionally asking for his opinion on something or pointing some detail out in the scenery. For this he was very grateful, although he would never admit it. He probably would have ended up following everyone else, silently on the edge of the socializing group, an awkward miss-placed shadow. His boss had clearly forgotten him in his seemingly heated discussion with Mr. Wright. Similarly Athena seemed to be trying to give him some space or something because he could tell she was doing all that she could to not keep looking back at him every few seconds. Instead she was talking to and Mr. Justice, who seemed to mostly be talking to each other, making her an obvious third-wheel.

By the time the short walk ended at the noodle stand, Simon already felt socially exhausted. Unfortunately for him, all sorts of people started coming out of nowhere to join in the festivities. Most of them were complete strangers; he only recognized a handful as working in either a law position or with the police. But apparently all of them had been at the trial, and those who had not had read about it. Apparently there were even several live feeds taken from outside the courtroom ruins the police were trying (unsuccessfully) to remove from the internet. He should have anticipated that a Wright-Edgeworth reunion would foster this much attention, but he had been much too preoccupied with the trial itself to notice the unusually large crowd filling the ruined gallery.

And every single one of them stopped by to say something. To him. He had to shake hands and exchange pleasantries, something he had nearly forgotten how to do. In the clink, one was lucky to get a vocalized "hello, how do you do?" instead of the favored physical assault method of communication. If it weren't for his steel willpower, he might have accidentally harmed the few oblivious individuals who actually went as far as to pat him on the back. Without permission. Or warning! Was this what real life had been like, before? Luckily, small Wright once again saved the day by intercepting the few hugs that a few fools tried to give him. Bless this child, she must be more observant than all but Athena.

Who was still avoiding him. To hover around Apollo, who was hovering around Junie. He had not granted himself the self-indulgence to ever hope that he would somehow escape execution, so he had not anticipated the potential awkwardness involved in a relationship where two people gave up a portion of their lives for one another. Maybe it was because he said too many nice things consecutively at the end of the trial earlier, then even went as far as to invite himself out to a social function. Perhaps she was having issues adjusting to such a rapid change, the same way he already felt overwhelmed by his new life on the outside.

Speaking of which, how was he supposed to decide what to eat? In the clink one ate what was offered when it was offered; choices were infrequent and usually limited to things like: off-brand cheerios or off-brand fruit loops; gravy or no gravy; water or milk. At least this noodle stand had pretty limited options; but whatever was he supposed to do for the rest of the week? A long time ago he had been a fair enough cook. He'd prepared most of the meals for his sister and himself since they'd been on their own and she had no time to consider things like good nutrition. He could not remember how he decided what to make, though.

And he'd have to go clothes shopping too. And find a place to live and furniture to go in it. Apparently Aura had literally torched most of his belongings in a giant cathartic bonfire in the height of her madness during her grieving of Metis. She said it did help her feel better, though, so Simon was not too peeved about it. Of course, when she had told him this years ago, he did not anticipate ever needing any of his personal items again. When she gave him the keys to her place earlier that day, she revealed that she had kept a few of his things. She'd kindly packed them in a box and left them just inside the door. Simon could guess what the contents of the leftovers of his past were, and clothes were definitely not something likely to be included. He was never particularly attached to any clothing items. Besides, he probably would not even fit his old clothes anyway, if his recently returned items were any indication. Somehow Edgeworth, the master of small details, had arranged for the small bag of items Simon had on his person when he was arrested to be returned. He had not inspected everything closely yet, but at a glance the plastic grocery bag contained: his old outfit (minus the bloody surcoat which he might get back later after the trial paper went through according to Edgeworth), a handkerchief, his old wallet (twelve dollars, his id, a few movie ticket stubs, a well-used library card, prosecutor registration, steel samurai fan club card), some change (forty-three cents), and an old pair of doc marten's. He had not grown much taller locked up but he had bulked up significantly, so his old attire was useless. What a nuisance.

Speaking of which, it seemed that the Woods girl was trying to extricate herself from the party. She went around hugging all the people she knew, Apollo and Athena right on her heels. They ended by Trucy, Pearls, and himself, strategically placed at the closest point to the exit from the area the stand occupied today.

Junie hugged the other two, then almost tried to hug Simon. He breathed a sigh of relief when she settled for a more casual small squeeze of his elbow.

"I'm very happy for you Prosecutor Blackquill. I'm sorry for any trouble I've caused you recently." She practically whispered, then fell into a coughing fit.

He mumbled an insincere apology for falsely accusing her and being so rough. If anyone heard him, they did not say anything.

"Well, we're off! I'm walking Junie to the bus station so she won't get lost— alone." Athena stuck her tongue out at Apollo on the last statement, practically dragging her protesting friend away by the arm.

"I won't get lost!"

He watched them until they turned a corner. Athena was laughing, Junie coughing and blushing the color of Apollo's suit. Out of his peripheral vision he observed Pearl whispering something to the lawyer, causing another similar blush, along with an "objection!" Simon silently praised his sister for her wise judgement in allowing him to homeschool himself before entering a law program. He did not know how he could have coped with such young drama on a daily basis, even when he was young himself.

Trucy said something under her breath and elbowed Apollo in the stomach. Simon tensed slightly, steeling himself for the possibility of oncoming small-talk.

Sure enough the short, red cardinal turned to him, doing that bashful pose where he closed his eyes and smiled, rubbing the back of his head. Simon wondered if this was something he specifically copied from his mentor, or if it was just a coincidence.

"Sooo…Prosecutor Blackquill…Err, nice turn out huh?"

"Mmm," he grunted his approval. The small Wright was making some kind of waving motion behind Apollo's back. Apparently she wanted him to say something? Whatever for? He consented only to reciprocate her favors of blocking incoming hugs.

"Yes, quite a large number for a food cart. However did all these people find out about this?"

Apollo used his sheepish look again. Simon tried very hard not to punch it off. "Oh! That! Heheheh. It's kind of a funny story but…basically anytime gets tricked into paying for food the word gets out via a huge group text." Apollo waved around his phone as evidence.

"When you get a phone set up for yourself, just let me or Trucy know and we'll add you!"

"Yeah!" Trucy chimed in, tipping her hat. "The more the merrier the sadder the daddy!"

Simon scowled. He feared that he would never understand these people. "You don't mean to say that Mr. Wright actually pays for all this?"

Trucy giggled. "Of course not, silly! Usually Uncle Edgy picks up the tab, but other people usually chip in too. And when he's not around Auntie Franny and or always have extra cash. No payment if you were in the trial though! Those people's monies are no good here!"

Simon blinked, still slightly baffled but unable to show it. "…So the idea is to convince that he's going to pay…but he knows that he is not going to?"

Pearls covered her face, giggling. "Mmm-hmm! Isn't it fun?! It started way back with Mystic Maya; but she always made him pay for real though. One time we even all walked out on him while he was in the bathroom! And got this police officer he didn't know to come in and raise a fuss about it! Poor turned so many funny colors!"

Her and Trucy cackled. Simon made a note to never underestimate them. He read the same sentiment in Apollo's horrified features. Apparently he had not heard that story.

Just then Athena jogged back up, a severe blush still fading from her face. Simon decided not to think about it.

Instead it was probably a good time to take his leave since people had started to trickle out.

Bowing from the waist formally to the whole group, he mumbled, "I suppose I shall leave now as well."

The radiant smile on Athena's face turned into a pout. "You're leaving already?"

He looked to the side, expressionless, blinking slowly several times. "Yes…I have…things to do."

She frowned, looking away and holding her arm like she always did when she was uncomfortable. "Oh, ok."

Blackquill was debating whether or not he needed to say anything else before just walking away, or if he should inquire what was the matter, when he was once again embarrassingly startled by Pearls and Trucy hugging him from either side. Immediately Athena's smile was back as she hugged him around the neck from the front. It all happened so fast he let out a most undignified yelp of surprise. Luckily Apollo did not join in the group hug; Simon saw him think about it for a second, before smiling and doing an odd wave. A hug would have been too much.

"Bye bye !" Both small Wright-related girls squealed at the same time, scattering off, dragging an unsuspecting Apollo between them.

But Athena was not with them; she was…

Still hugging him with her face in his chest? Her arms around his neck? Her body pressed against his?

He would not blush. He would keep a grip on himself. Just a reaction to human contact that had been absent for almost ten years; absolutely nothing personal.

As his willpower was preoccupied by preventing a specific physical reaction more damning than a mere blush, his arms barely wrapped around her back without his permission. He did not return the squeeze or anything, just hovered barely on the surface.

"Thank you," She whispered. She sounded like she might be crying.

But before he could tell, she'd leaned up and kissed him then sped off, all within the blink of an eye.

Just as quickly, Simon spun around and started walking as fast as his long stride could take him. He thanked his surcoat for it's long collar. He was most certainly blushing from his cheeks back to his ears and down his neck. Damn it.

He walked an entire two blocks before he realized he was going in the exact opposite of the space center. Simon sighed. Back in his student days he knew the layout of the whole city almost as well as he knew his old samurai flick trivia. Now it appeared a lot of the city had changed. Most of the street names remained the same, but overall it looked unsettlingly different. Especially the local transit systems. One brief glance at the maps showed Simon that both the bus and subway routes had been completely overhauled. The payment system looked new, too.

He was not about to stop and study a map. That might him appear like a tourist, i.e.: weak and unintelligent. Growling softly to himself he decided to walk. It was about three miles, he assumed it would take longer, though, since he was bound to get turned around at least once. But it was not like he had any plans for the rest of his evening, anyway. And he had never fully taken advantage of his right to walk anywhere in the days of his naive freedom, so now seemed like an excellent point to start. Plus walking was an excellent way to spend time thinking. His only regret was that he was still in his court dress attire.

Being so tall Simon was well aware that he stuck out just about anywhere. From the age of fourteen, when his legs grew in before everything else caught up, he was an easy target. That was why appropriate dress was so important. The idea was to blend in to the background as fluidly as possible, so that when he suddenly lunged from the shadows for the fatal strike, no one would see him coming, even if he was in the dead center of a crowd. He only wore neutral, muted colors, with a strong preference for black. Jumpsuit orange had done absolutely nothing for him.

By about half a mile along his stroll, Blackquill realized the danger his pride had put himself in. Yes, walking was an acceptable time for self-reflection…but that was just what he wanted to avoid. Right now, he needed a distraction. There were very few things in the world that could hold his full attention for very long. Unfortunately this small list was composed of mostly things related to the criminal justice system and everything samurai, neither of which were available at the moment. He felt the sudden urge to go into a random bar and fight someone. He settled for picking up the pace to a speed walk instead, accepting the consequence of gaining more stares that way.

Of course he could not outrun his thoughts. But he sure could try.

And fail.

His mind ran in circles between the trial, the past, and whatever that inconsequential unmentionable non-event earlier that evening even meant. He was analyzing the action much more thoroughly than it deserved. Athena had probably not even thought about it; and even if she did she was certainly not thinking about it now, repeating it over and over again in her head.

Meanwhile Athena endures hours of internal screaming from the time she impulsively kissed Simon to the moment she falls asleep. Knowing Simon, she has accidentally just scared him away for a full year.

Well he was ready to die tomorrow anyway, so if his heart exploded now it could only mean that the world was inflexible about set deadlines.

[a/n: this is the tiny angsty section so trigger-y maybe. abuse mention, gore, minor self-harm, cursing]

He reached the space center around eleven. The full weight of all the feelings he had subdued for so long dropped onto his chest the moment he faced the doors.

"Stop being weak. There are no such thing as ghosts. What's done is done and has nothing to do with the location itself," he growled at himself, clenching his fists so hard that his short nails broke the skin on his roughly calloused hands. He paced back and forth in front of the entrance, fuming, his vision drawing inwards, his head feeling uncomfortably light all of a sudden to contrast the heavy ache in his torso.

"Damn you it's just a building. FUCK! Damn you!" He howled at the top of his lungs. Without thinking, his leg shot out and kicked the wall, only serving to add another pain to Simon's sudden ails.

"ShitfuckshitshitshitHELLfuckow! Idiot! It's just a fucking door so open the fucking door you weak-ass-motherfucking-whimp! Do it or die undeserving wretch!"

Thoroughly funneling all his unexpected grief into anger worked long enough to open the door and take a quick look around the space. It looked exactly how he expected Aura's space to look—cluttered, impersonal, laid back, but also hardcore lethal somehow. He hated all of it. The memories of living together in small rooms- first from foster home to foster home then on their own when neither of them made enough money to live even remotely comfortably. It all came pouring back, the arguments, sharing everything, physical fights, verbal abuse, anger, depthless unyielding rage his constant shadow. Pain. Searing hot white fired shots of agony through his head.

Worthless illogical life. Then a brief respite from all that suffering. Just a joke. The smallest taste of contentment before being suffocated by life. The world moved on every time people died. No one really mattered. That was the ultimate lesson.

It would happen again. Everything was cyclical. He had allowed himself a selfish evening pretending to be happy, hoping it would last. What a lie. A lie so obvious any fool could see it. But that was the trick— all the fools did see it. They just lived with it forever, buried deep.

But not him. The twisted samurai would not yield to a devil called hope. Never.

No that was not him-that twice accursed title- he only wants justice.

No it was perfect. Truth.

The truth was something beyond him. All these years he had carried the knowledge of Athena's guilt; there was no other possible killer. It was all a lie. And he'd fallen for it. He had accepted another truth. He could not see it.

Only that man could.

He could only watch, in awe, as all the unbelieving spectators bowed all of their doubts before him to be annihilated with simple bluffs and silly guesses, irrationalities.

He, himself, had not saved her, for all the years sacrificed, all the work, it was all nothing. But maybe he shouldn't feel so guilty because she did not save him either.

They'd both failed.

Another man hefted them all out of the fiery coiled lies of the past.

It should have been Simon Blackquill.

The shadows from the streetlights through the blinds started to look like blood. He could smell it. Sickening metallic liquid teasing his senses. Warm. Heavy and warm. When he'd picked her up she was covered in it. Enough so that he could feel the heat through his clothes. It made her clothes slippery, he might have dropped her if she had not been clinging to his coat. The way his hands spread through a pool of it on her shirt, no texture just like it, he thought about her finger paints. She would pour out way too much for him to use, because his hands were so big compared to hers. He tried explaining that the paper itself was the same size, and furthermore he never filled the page from edge to edge the way she did. But his hands were bigger so he got more paint. He only used greens and blues though. She insisted on using all the colors, every last one each time, even the gross brown one. So none of them would feel left out.

A sudden wave of nausea, vision fading again, get out.

He bolts for the exit, barely scooping up the small cardboard box in the doorway, and a familiar form wrapped in old Christmas paper.

He keeps running, all the way across one of the big fields.

Another big green space much much longer ago Aura howled at the moon and he laughed. Together forever.

Now when he impulsively lets out a howl. It sounds broken. Empty. The way the sound dissipates into nothingness was much worse.

It hurt.

Simon doubles over on the ground, dry heaving. What little he ate earlier was long burned away in his walk. He can not remember the last large meal he had. Fullbright had even called his eating habits birdlike, although if that was supposed to make him happy or anger him enough to stuff himself, he did not know.

Fullbright. Just add more lies atop the mound of mistruths, sacrifice some joys before it, cast aside all memories to be devoured by the past. All hail the twisted samurai!

How had she endured it? Walked around for several days pretending nothing ever happened there? How could she stand while he could not?

The odd sound resonating through the ground— it took him too long to recognize. This was his real laugh. Not the fake guffaw he knew just the right way to employ, his actual honest-to-goodness sound. Why here why now why…..

When did he lie facedown in the grass? When had his spindly digits dug deep into the soil? How had his feet freed themselves of shoes to disturb the lawn?

What was happening to his face?

His chest?

For the first time since childhood, Simon wept.

An offering to the stars in the wide open sky.

It was sometime after two in the morning when Phoenix pulled up to the space center. It was kind of creepy with all the lights off and no cars around. Sure the parking lot was well lit, but that just made the shadows cast ominous shapes. The sound of the car door closing rang out across the lot, bouncing off the glass building, returning a hollow echo.

He walked around the back to where the residential entry access was, visually scanning the area for signs of life the whole way. As he turned the corner, he saw the body. His heart skipped. A form stretched out on the grass, face-down, a box beside it. All too familiar a sight for Phoenix. Except usually by the time he got to the scene there was only a tape outline instead of flesh.

He sprinted over, calling out a name, "Simon!"

He skidded to a halt, kneeling down to take a pulse, only to fall on his backside, screaming in terror when the corpse spoke.

"Go away Phoenix Wright. I still breathe yet. Touch me to check and you shall feel the rebuttal of my steel."

Phoenix breathed a loud sigh of relief. "Oh thank God! I thought you were dead! Whew! Could you sit up for a second?!"

A quiet growl muffled by the ground was the man's sole response.

"You'll give people heart attacks laying out all dramatic like that! Holy guacamole, Simon! Geez!"

This time muted words followed after the growl. "I do not recall granting you permission to address me so casually, Wright-dono."

"Objection!" Phoenix pointed to the (still-prostrate) man. "Anybody lying face down in the dirt forfeits all formalities!"

"Oh really? I don't believe I've seen that in any etiquette text."

"Well that's just because it's damn obvious!"

"Hmm. I would posit the opposite. Some poor soul acting in such a manner must surely have fallen to the depths of their sanity. And as far as I understand, dangerous madmen should always be addressed with the utmost respect as a measure of security against an outburst."

Phoenix rolled his eyes and threw his hands up in exasperation, although he knew the other could not see it. "For crying out loud Simon quit being so silly! You're not a madman; not even remotely close. You are in full possession of your sanity so stoppit with the crazy charade!"

"I wouldn't be so sure. I myself wouldn't risk it, were I in your position. One can never know what might happen."

Even though Phoenix could not see it, he knew that foxy grin was spread all over the prosecutor's face. He had a desire to rub it away in the mud. "Yeah, ok, whatever Simon. I believe you—you're some psychopath biding your time to kill me, I'm so freaking scared. So can we go now?"

There was a long pause. Somehow the body got even stiffer. Phoenix fought off the urge to moan in complaint.

"Whatever do you mean, Wright-dono? I'm afraid that once again your train of thought has passed me by."

"Come on, you're coming home with me." Phoenix patted the back of Simon's knee, eliciting a startled jump at the contact.

"Surely this is not how the famous ace attorney Phoenix Wright invites someone to share his bed? I would have thought you would be more charming in your advances."

Phoenix felt himself blush. This cheeky little motherfucker was starting to piss him off. "No it's not like that at all, and you know it; so quit dodging the subject and get on with it!"

"In a hurry are we? I would've taken you as the 'let's take it slow, darling' type based upon your characteristic stalled trials. Sorry, I'm afraid quickies are not my preference."

This time Phoenix actually moaned in irritation. "Yeah, real funny Simon. You've humiliated me, you win."

"There's a good sport. Nobody likes a passive-aggressive loser. Or lover for that matter."

Phoenix put his face in his hands and screamed. When he left to retrieve Simon he had known that the task would not be easy; but he had not foreseen being teased about sex of all things. What a riot. His patience for being nice had run out. Time to turn this sad samurai around!

"So you're going to sleep on the ground tonight, huh?"

There was another long pause. Apparently the prosecutor thought that ignoring him would work. Well he was wrong.

"Well? You're just gunna lie facedown in the damn dirt until the sun comes up?"

Another long pause. Phoenix was about to keep pressing when his victim responded of his own accord.

"No. I'll go inside momentarily."

Phoenix laughed. That was probably a dangerous course of action but he could not help himself. The way Simon spoke was just way too much to handle sometimes.

"No you won't."

"Yes I will."

"Won't."

"Will."

"Won't."

"Will."

"Won't."

"SILENCE! What kind of fool do you take me for? Of course I'll go inside in a moment! Just as soon as I finish testing the quality of the landscaping."

Phoenix laughed aloud again. "Not a chance bird boy! You've got some stuff there that's evidence that you've already been inside—but you couldn't handle it so now your back out here. And there's absolutely nothing wrong with that. You've already been through so much shit the past few days. There's nothing weak about shying away from more self-torture. I mean come ON nobody can be strong all the time! You've gotta be exhausted from always being such an emotional rock. There is absolutely no shame in saving all this for another day, alright?!"

Damn him. Damn him damn him damn him damn him to hell.

"Birdboy? Yes I do own a bird, but between the two of us you look much more avian-like."

"OBJECTION!"

"Denied. Besides, if you fail to see the resemblance you at least cannot doubt the attractiveness of your hair as a potential nesting site."

"Objection!"

"Denied. Resend your statement."

"Ugh! Fine! Simon Blackquill is not a bird boy. Satisfied?"

"Quite."

"Then let's go."

Another long pause. Phoenix could practically see the twisted samurai fighting with the real Simon Blackquill in the man's head.

"I cannot."

"Yes, you can; it's that you won't."

"Alright then, I concede your point, Wright-dono: I won't. And that's the final verdict. I'd rather stay here humiliated and humble on the ground than accept your help, he to whom I already owe everything."

"Ok you're even given Edgeworth a run for his money for the title of most bullshit dramatic prosecutor. None of that other stuff matters at all, just forget about it."

"It does matter, and I won't."

"Fine, have it your way—but that's got nothing to do with coming with me."

"Yes it does."

"Goddamnit Simon! Do you have to refute every statement I make?!"

"No." Phoenix could hear his damn smile. "I would agree with you if only you ever spoke any sense."

Phoenix yelled in frustration. "ARG! Just come on with me please?!"

"No thank you, I'm quite satisfied here."

There was another long pause as Phoenix tried to think of a new strategy. Perhaps he was going about the whole thing wrong. Time to turn his approach upside down.

He stretched out face down next to the other man, wiggling awhile before finding a (relatively) comfortable position. He could feel the giant question mark radiating from Simon; but if Phoenix had learned any skill from Trucy it was the art of correct timing.

Just as Simon's curiosity peaked, Phoenix's dramatic performance of his own began.

"IF I LAY HERE, IF I JUST LAY HE-EE-RE, WOULD YOU LIEEE—," he belted out in a terrible falsetto impersonation. He was about as skilled at singing as playing piano, but exaggeratedly fake singing was another game altogether: one that he had mastered ages ago.

Immediately he gained a reaction from Simon, who curled into a ball, covering his ears, cursing. "What in the eternal hells are you doing?! STOPPIT! Stop that caterwauling this instant!"

"WI-II-TH ME AND JUS' FORGET THA'—"

"I'll kill you, I swear it on my badge! Cease and desist immediately or face my wrath!"

"WO-OO-RL-LD. FORGET WHAT WE'RE TO-O-OLD BEFORE—"

"SILENCE! In the name of all things you hold dear BE STILL!"

"IT GETS TO-OO-OO OO-OL-LD—"

Simon roared and wrenched the other man into a chokehold, covering his mouth with both hands.

"Wright-dono. I swear by all the honorable dead I will snap your neck if you do not stop. Now, I appreciate your concerned efforts, but your assistance is not needed at this time. Please return to your place of residence immediately. Understand?"

Phoenix began scream-singing from behind Simon's hands, hoping that Athena's assertion that Simon would never really kill anyone was true.

Suddenly he felt himself being picked up. This was incredibly disconcerting since such a thing had not happened since he was small. Phoenix jumped, startled himself with how loud his own voice was when Simon removed his hands to pick him up. The prosecutor was trying to counter Phoenix's serenade by screaming out haikus.

Somehow the effect was so much less poignant.

He dropped the defense attorney next to the car, again stifling his song (only with his arm this time.)

"Why are you doing this Wright-dono? Huh? Do you pity me? The fallen man unable to face the uncertainty of the future? Afraid to make even the smallest of choices? Did you come to laugh at the shamed samurai?"

For the first time, by the light of the streetlamps Phoenix saw Simon's face. It was disturbing to say the least. He did not need any of his associates's powers to see the pain behind those grey eyes, the fear in the ways his lips trembled, the sorrow in the cracked voice. The bags under his eyes had swollen to new proportions. He had definitely been crying. A lot.

"No. Just—…No. I came because there was a house full of tearful girls begging me to bring you back. They did not want you to suffer alone or something. Literally I had absolutely no choice in the matter, believe me."

Those fierce grey eyes were trying to pierce through his own. Phoenix could feel talons along his scalp, stretching the tissue back to reveal his thoughts. Simon was one scary guy. Especially this close. In the darkest part of night. In an abandoned parking lot. At least a mile out from much of anything.

Nervous, he ashamedly started giggling.

"Yeah, heheh, if it were up to me I would'a called you!"

Simon's eyes narrowed. "I have yet to procure a mobile."

"Ah! Right. Well then my concern wouldn't have reached very far, huh? HA!"

He was still under a silent scrutiny so fierce he felt the sudden urge to confess all his recent sins. Or go to the bathroom.

"Or maybe passed the problem to someone else, you know? Like sent Apollo out here, he's a fine errand boy!"

Simon grunted at the name. Shit he'd forgotten the two were apparently not chummy.

"Err…so yeah. I came out because, er, my life is in danger, so to speak. Like if I return empty handed? Hahahahahahaaa! That's all folks! I'll be Wright along to heaven! Err, haha, or not. But believe me, being punished by teenage girls has to be the worst! Like truly they should be the ones behind the criminal justice system because I've never seen such conniving and cruel creatures in my entire life! Haha. Whoops! Didn't mean to bring up punishment, err…"

Would it kill the guy to stop staring him down?! He got it already! Phoenix Wright—small prey. Check and check.

In the silence that followed, Phoenix inched backwards and picked up the box, smiling nervously the whole time. Simon's predatory eyes followed him the whole way. Phoenix thought for a second he was about to be ripped to shreds when he picked up Simon's things, but thankfully Simon realized he was only retrieving them without the intention of opening anything. He gently put the box in the truck, followed by reverently laying down the second package. He tried to keep his hands from shaking, but could not. Damn.

When he turned back around, Blackquill was staring at the sky out in the field again.

Hesitantly, Phoenix approached and stood beside the tall man, then also looked up.

They remained like this for a few minutes. Phoenix did not want to disturb whatever was going on in the twisted head beside him. Especially after a quick sideways glance revealed that the other's eyes were closed, and several tears were running down his cheeks.

All of a sudden Phoenix remembered another clear night like this a long time ago when he stood next to someone with the exact same expression. Just after the murder of Mystic Misty Fey, he had returned to the mountain retreat with Maya and Pearls. So they could say goodbye. He shed a few tears himself, he was unashamed to admit. Only his were in thanks.

He was startled out of his recollection when Simon abruptly turned and walked back to the car. He thought he heard Blackquill say "thank you," but he did not respond. He did not know to whom the statement was addressed: himself, the universe, Athena's mother, all of thee above?

Somehow he felt that all thank you's should be like that.

[Pearls, Trucy- 13ish/middle school] [Athena, Junie-20] [Apollo-22][Simon-26][Phoenix, Miles- 31] [Aura-33]

[a/n: I also do not own snow patrol's "chasing cars" song so don't sue me about that either please/thanks!]

[a/n: several minor changes to canon-ish material— 1. disregard the extra post-credit cut scene thing. 2. housing. all the characters probably live in apartments downtown…but for the sake of this fic Phoenix and Trucy live in the suburbs. just wait- it will make so much sense. 3. ages (biggest change)— let's face it, aging in these games make NO sense, like no one looks their age. so at end of each ch i'll include relative ages of ppl involved in each ch. these are mostly non-canon ages, so…? 4. Cykesquill timeline: so during the HAT-1 incident Athena was 11 (she looked like 8 tbh) and Simon 21? so add 7 years in prison and they're 18 and 28 during the game (but they sure don't look it )…let's put him in jail for 10 years and decrease the difference in their age just a little bit so she was 10, and he was 16. That's not too far-fetched since Fransizka became a prosecutor at 13 and Klavier at age 17 b/c LAW…?…that gives Athena more time to completely change her personality and become a peppy lawyer; and makes Simon miss the huge chunk of time when people learn how to be an adult. whoops.]