Tourniquet

Chapter 7

"This ceremony has been graciously organized in celebration for another wonderful year."

Where could she be?

"I expect all of you to attend to show your appreciation, even if you can't stay."

He couldn't find her anywhere among the rest of them.

"The ball will officially start at eight o'clock; please come dressed appropriately."

She usually stood out in a crowd; why couldn't he find her?

"We hope you'll all have an excellent time. You may bring a spouse or friend if you wish."

It wasn't like her to just skip a conference, even if it was trivial.

"Thank you all for attending. This meeting is adjourned."

Miles stayed in his seat as the rest of his co-workers began to gather the papers that lay on the long tables in front of them and leave the room. He watched both exits, trying to catch a glimpse of her light gray hair, but he couldn't seem to find it anywhere. With a sigh, he stood and made to leave as well, baffled at why she hadn't shown up. He hadn't seen her yet that day, but he had felt sure she'd turn up at the meeting.

He began to get worried. It was definitely not like Franziska to miss a day of work, even if she fell ill. She had said it to him once before: "Perfect attendance is also a part of achieving perfection. You should know that, you fool!"

He grinned and sighed at the same time. Just thinking about her made his heart do a sort of excited jumping trick inside his rib cage. He had placed the previous day in his memory as the single best day of his life, and he wouldn't soon forget how it had felt. The memory of it gave him visible chills as he sat at his desk thinking.

However, he still found himself a little worried. Why hadn't he seen her? He had to conclude that she simply had not come into work, but that idea troubled him. 'Something must be very wrong,' he thought, reaching for the phone that sat upon his desk.

Franziska groaned in annoyance and rolled over onto her other side, covering her head with her pillow in an attempt to block out that irritating ring. "Hang up!" she yelled groggily as if the person calling could hear her voice without the call even being answered. This was the third time in the past five minutes! Couldn't they just let her sleep?!

Fortunately, when the ringing stopped, it did not restart. The German prosecutor sighed and snuggled deeper into her bed linens, wishing to fall asleep quickly. She had been sleeping for so long that she had a splitting headache, so being awake was not a very enjoyable state at this particular time.

Soon, she began to drift back to sleep, and just as her dreams were about to take her again…

'BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!'

"Oh my fucking God!" In pure rage, she threw the covers off herself and sat up. She hadn't heard the doorbell ringing, for there was no speaker inside her bedroom and her door was closed. Now, whoever was outside was beating so loudly on the door that it had awakened her from her dozing.

With an angry sigh, she lay back down, putting the pillow over her head once more to try and drown out the noise. For a bit longer, she could still faintly hear it, and then it stopped, allowing the silence to envelope her once more.

However, this silence felt eerie. For some reason, her heart was pounding in her throat, and she found her breathing to be quite a bit heavier than normal. Something wasn't right.

Trembling, she finally forced herself to get out of bed. She moved to the door of her room and then paused, listening, with her hand resting on the knob. When she heard nothing, she slowly slid the door open and crept down the hall, holding her breath as she did so.

She stopped suddenly with a gasp as she heard footsteps coming in her direction. Something was wrong with her; she was utterly terrified. She was panicking now, looking side to side with wide eyes, unable to decide what to do. She wanted to run, but felt frozen to the spot.

Her whip! That would help her… No, she didn't have it on her. She had left it on the dining room table after coming home, and there was no way to get to it from where she stood.

She was hyperventilating now, and her vision and hearing seemed to be failing her. "No…" she whispered, feeling suddenly so sick that she doubled over, one arm around her own stomach and one hand over her mouth. "Oh God… No… No… I can't…" She was going to faint; she knew it. She swallowed hard the lump that was rising in her throat, tears of fright forcing their way to the surface.

She felt herself fall sideways into the wall as she fought the blackness with all of her willpower. She couldn't control her breathing, and she was choking on her sobs. "No… N-no…"

Her auditory sense was gone now; not even her own voice reached her ears. She could no longer feel a thing, and only knew she had hit the floor when the bottom trim was at her eye level. Everything was dark and getting darker. Soon, the blackness consumed her, and she knew no more.

"Franziska?"

"Oh God… No… No… I can't…"

His footsteps quickened at the sound of Franziska's panicked voice and desperate shallow breathing. Something was wrong.

"No… N-no…"

"Franziska!"

He was running toward the sound now, and just then he heard a heavy 'thud', like something falling to the floor. The panicked breathing was starting to die away, and when he wheeled into the hallway, it had stopped.

"F-Franziska!" Miles did something like a baseball slide across the carpet, coming to rest at her side. "Franziska!" She was out cold. He placed a hand beneath her head and lifted it slightly to get a look at her face.

She was as white as a ghost and was covered in a freezing sweat, but other than that, he saw nothing wrong. Her breathing was naturally stabilizing itself and she soon ceased to tremble. He concluded that she must have just…fainted. There was no blood, no one else around, so that was the only explanation he could come up with.

It was as he looked at her pale face that he saw how red and puffy her eyes were. She had been crying. Bewildered, he lifted her into his arms and stood, cradling her as he headed down the hall toward her bedroom. All the while he was wracking his brain. She hadn't seemed upset; she had been so at ease. So, why…?

Upon entering her room, he witnessed how in disarray it was. The sheets on the bed were halfway pulled from the mattress and the comforter lay in a heap on the floor. It appeared that several things had been thrown carelessly to various parts of the room.

Gently, he laid her upon the bed, adjusting her pillows and the other linens to make her comfortable. 'They're wet,' he observed, running his hand across her pillow. 'How long has she been…?' He sighed and flipped it over to the dry side, placing her head upon it and pulling the blankets up to her chin.

Miles stepped back, watching her sleep. She was now taking deep, steady breaths, her chest moving up and down with ease. He still couldn't imagine what had happened to her to cause all of this, but the nagging feeling in the back of his mind was telling him that this was his fault.

With another deep sigh, he sat down on the window ledge and proceeded to watch her. He had done this more times than she knew, ever since these strange feelings had come to his attention. It gave him a sort of inner peace to observe such innocence and beauty. The whole world saw her as a vicious, evil, cold-hearted woman with no remorse and no human emotion, but Miles Edgeworth knew the truth. It was all a façade that even she had forced herself to believe in. That devil woman was nothing more than what Manfred von Karma had coerced her into becoming. She was just a victim, a poor, innocent child who was never given the opportunity to become her own person. He wanted nothing more than to give her that chance, and to be there for her whenever she needed a helping hand or some loving guidance.

Slowly, Miles stood and approached the bed, climbing in and wrapping his arms around her in a warm embrace. Franziska then chose that moment to stir, taking in a sharp breath of air as her senses gradually returned to her.

For a moment, she lay still, not even opening her eyes. However, she soon felt the warmth that surrounded her and the strong arms that held her tightly. Still only half aware, she lifted her head to look up at the person holding her, only to meet the calm, gray eyes of Miles Edgeworth.

When she looked at him, a soft smile appeared on his face, not a smirk like she had expected to see. As she gazed at him, he placed his hand on the side of her head, smoothing her hair back out of her face and then holding her to his chest. "Are you all right?" he questioned in a whisper, his other hand moving up and down her back in a soothing manner.

She didn't answer his question. Instead, she only huddled closer to him, breathing a shaky sigh to try and relax in his embrace. She felt hollow and very cold after her panic attack and all the crying she had done. She didn't care that he had been the primary cause of her affliction; he was there with her now, comforting and protecting. She was a nervous wreck, and all she needed was someone to show her they cared.

They lay like that for hours, neither really even bothering to keep track of the time. Finally, it was Franziska who broke the silence, her voice muffled as she spoke into Miles's chest. "Why are you here?" She had been wondering this for a while now, but hadn't had the energy to question his presence. Now, she felt calmer and more awake, so it seemed necessary to ask him.

"It's not like you to skip work, Franziska," he replied, still speaking very softly. "You missed the meeting today, and I was worried. I tried to call a few times, but there was no answer."

"Oh…" She waited, trying to figure out how she would answer the question she was sure he would ask her next. He'd want to know why she hadn't shown up. Then, he'd want to know why she had been crying, and why he had found her unconscious in the hallway. Could she really tell him the truth? She shuddered to think of his reaction to her thoughts. Would he understand, or would her worst fears be realized? She had no idea what he was really thinking at that moment, and some of the possibilities frightened her.

However, only silence followed. He didn't say a word. This caused Franziska to look up at him in confusion. "Don't you… want to know why I didn't come?"

Miles peered down at her, giving her another kind smile. "I just assumed that if you thought I should know, you would tell me. I don't want to be pushy." His grin turned to one of amusement upon seeing the shocked look on her face.

"Y-you… You really don't…" She didn't know what she wanted to say. She couldn't believe that he had just left it all up to her. He wasn't going to bother her about it at all.

Miles nodded. "I just came to make sure you're okay. You scared me there," he said, kissing the top of her head lightly. A bit of color flushed in her cheeks and she hid her face in his red jacket, hearing a soft laugh from above her. "Don't cry anymore, all right?"

"Okay," she replied, her own smile finally breaking through, though it could not be seen. She was thinking now of that dream she had witnessed the night before, that memory of their past together. In that memory, he had been protecting her at his cost, and before that, he had taught her what it meant to be loved, though she hadn't realized it until just now. So, why would he have used her? She felt almost sure that he was being true, that he only meant well, that he really did care for her. She was convinced that it had been an act of love, and that he was protecting and caring for her now. She still had her doubts and questions, but while he held her, she laid them aside for another day.

She wanted to enjoy this moment to its fullest, just in case it would never come again.