(I'm back again! And a HUGE thanks to Ivy deLean for her help with the flashback in this chapter! Hope you all enjoy!)
Chapter 22
…What a strange sensation…
…Was someone dripping water on him?
No… No, it didn't feel like that. It was wet, but…
The sensation came with the slightest pressure; that meant it wasn't just wetness. Something solid and wet was brushing against his face.
'Now what on Earth could that be…?'
He moved his head slightly as the feeling in it began to return, and at this point he became aware of his upper body, which felt strangely heavy. What was going on here; nothing felt right at all. Or maybe… maybe there was just something sitting on his chest. Sure, that's what it must have been.
As soon as he had moved, there was a change in the pressure on his chest, as if whatever it was had shifted. Then, the wet feeling against his face was replaced by something… fuzzy, and then something cold and wet, but with a different texture than the first thing.
Okay, now he really needed to know what was going on. He made an attempt at opening his eyes, which he had only just become aware were closed. It wasn't nearly as easy as it should have been, causing his first attempt at it to fail. Another thing he realized was how weak he was; moving seemed unnaturally laborious. Still, he tried again, and this time he managed to force his eyelids open halfway.
A mist of blur was all he could see. He closed them and opened them a second time, hoping to clear away some of the fog. It worked—though his vision was still a bit out of focus—and he saw a soft white lighting to his surroundings that could only be the light of day coming into a room through a window with no other light source. It was dim enough to not be painful, but bright enough so that he would be able to see features of his surroundings should he choose to look around.
A sudden noise caused his body to jolt as he took in a sharp breath of air. It was loud and very close by, but thankfully it only lasted a fraction of a second. He blinked again, and this time something came into view, a furry canine face just inches from his own, light brown fur covering the top half of the face and pointed ears and white fur on the chin and below. Two sparkling black eyes stared back at him and a tongue—which he assumed had been what was sliding across his face—hung out of an open mouth as the animal panted excitedly. Fortunately, his sense of smell hadn't quite returned just yet.
"…Pess?"
"He's awake!"
For the second time in a matter of a few moments, Miles found himself startled. The dog barked again and then someone else was upon him, arms around his shoulders and head against the side of his neck. Miles lay perfectly still as his brain struggled to register this new addition to his immediate vicinity.
He could see light gray hair with a bluish tint, but he couldn't see the person's face. So… who was hugging him? The only thing he recognized was his dog…
Meanwhile, Phoenix Wright breathed a sigh of relief as he watched Franziska hug a very confused and barely awake Miles Edgeworth. He had high hopes considering Miles had recognized and even spoken the name of his household pet, but he had yet to show any signs of recognition toward his lover. 'Then again…' Wright thought with an inward frown. 'He did name that dog after his childhood pet, and if I remember correctly… they look almost exactly alike…' He remembered that Miles had had a dream about a specific day they had spent together when they were nine years old, which had caused him to remember his father. If his old pet had also been in that dream… Well… maybe it wasn't just a coincidence. They would just have to wait and see.
Wright began to look around the room to observe the other people occupying it. To his left on the window ledge sat Maya, and in her lap sat little Pearl. He was surprised the two of them had stayed so quiet in light of Edgeworth's awakening, but then again they were both probably still in a bit of a state of shock after seeing him like this. In the couple days he had been here, the nurses had managed to patch him up a bit, but he looked half-dead nonetheless. Although, it had been Maya's idea to bring Pess to the hospital. The nurses had protested, but the woman sitting to his right had quite a bit of say in most things.
Phoenix Tilea sat on the other side of the defense attorney, stone-faced and silent. She had barely spoken a word since they had all been reunited, and any smile she might have given was brief and forced. No one had seen or heard anything about Ares at all. Detective Gumshoe—who sat on a desk directly across the room from the bed—had informed them that a group of EMTs had arrived and taken the young man out to an ambulance, but after that there had been no word at all. Therefore, Tilea believed him dead, and they had all assumed she was simply beyond tears. However, Wright had made sure that the others stayed optimistic about it. "No news is good news," he had stated in hopes of cheering Tilea up a bit and keeping the overall mood from being too gloomy when Edgeworth awoke.
"Mr. Nick?"
"Eh?" Wright's expression became one of confusion as he was snapped out of his reverie by the tiny voice to his left. It registered finally, and he turned his head to see Pearl looking up at him with her big, innocent eyes. "Yes, Pearls?"
"Miss von Karma is Mr. Edgeworth's special someone, right?" The ten-year-old had glanced over at the pair of them—Franziska still embracing a now curious instead of confused Miles—and then looked back up at him.
"Um… Y-yes, Pearls, She is."
Maya laughed a little. "Of course she is, Pearly! Remember when we all went to dinner with them?"
Pearl nodded, but still looked… troubled? "But… if she is his special someone, why isn't he hugging her back?"
Maya and Phoenix looked at each other with wide eyes, then quickly glanced back over to the two prosecutors. It was true: Miles was not returning Franziska's embrace, but they understood why. However, it must have looked odd to this little girl who looked at love in a fairy tale sort of way. "Well, Pearly… Um… Mr. Edgeworth is really hurt right now," Maya tried to explain while avoiding any traumatizing details. "He would most definitely be hugging her too if he could."
Pearl's eyes became even wider, and then a sad expression crossed her adorable face. "Poor Mr. Edgeworth. He can't even hug his special someone."
Just then, Wright saw something move near the door and looked up to see one of the nurses stepping into the room and looking around. "Oh," she said, her eyes widening briefly. "I'll have to alert the doctor that he's awake. Um…" She paused, looking around the room. It had been made clear that the hospital staff was not pleased with having so many people in the room, but once again, they weren't about to argue with Tilea, and speaking of her. "I'm… looking for a Miss Phoenix Tilea."
Tilea raised her head slightly, her bright red bangs shadowing dead black eyes. "Yes?"
The RN looked a little nervous addressing her, but only hesitated for a moment. "Could you please come with me? One of the doctors has asked to speak with you."
No emotion crossed the young woman's face, but she seemed to mull this over for a moment before standing silently and following the nurse out of the room.
Franziska raised her head to see Tilea leaving, then looked back at Miles to see his eyes following her, coming back after she was out of sight. He looked mostly unaware, but she could see a bit of wonder in his bandaged face. "Miles?"
He stared up at her, waiting for more.
"Do… Do you know who that was?"
He blinked, and then his gaze shifted to the ceiling. She could practically see the gears turning as he strained to pull his thoughts together. Finally, his gray eyes were on her again, and his raspy voice issued just above a whisper. "Phoenix."
Franziska nodded. "And… him?" She turned and pointed at the man sitting on the window ledge.
Wright sat very still as Miles stared over at him, as if moving would throw the other man off track.
"Wright… Phoenix Wright." His tone hadn't changed in the slightest, though this time he spoke with a bit more hesitation.
The German woman nodded again, and then pointed to Detective Gumshoe. "Him?"
A pause, and then, "…Detective… Detective…" His lips stayed parted as he tried with all of his brainpower to remember the man's name, but all he could remember was his title. He couldn't do it, and Gumshoe's shoulder drooped along with Franziska's hopes.
"And them?" The last two people in the room were Maya and Pearl. This would determine whether or not he had regained any of his memory from before being kidnapped, or if everything he knew he had learned in that hour or so he had spent with them before coming to the hospital.
Miles stared at the two girls, but saw only strangers. "No," he replied, looking apologetic. Maya's expression saddened, but she understand and didn't say anything. Pearl, however, looked mortified.
"Mr. Edgeworth! You know us! It's me, Pearl Fey, and Mystic Maya, my big cousin!"
"Pearls." Wright leaned over and took hold of the little girl's hand. "Calm down."
"B-but," the child protested. "He says he doesn't know who—"
"Um, Nick, maybe we should…"
"Good idea." Phoenix stood up and Maya followed suit, holding onto Pearl's hand. "We'll be back later, Edgeworth."
"I'm sorry…" The injured prosecutor looked ashamed. He knew that he was supposed to know these people, but… he just didn't remember.
"It's okay, Mr. Edgeworth!" Maya was grinning from ear to ear at him. "I'm sure you'll be better in no time, and then Nick will take us all out for dinner! Won't you, Nick?"
"Uhm… S-sure…." Phoenix scratched the back of his head. He could only hope that Maya was only putting on a show to try and cheer up their friend. "L-let's go. You coming, Detective Gumshoe?"
"Uh… Sure, pal." Gumshoe straightened up and turned to follow the other's, glancing over his shoulder to say a quick, "I'll see you later, Mr. Edgeworth," before disappearing out the door.
A heavy silence fell over the remaining two occupants of the room, both staring at the door for the longest time. Franziska felt nothing but sadness and dread. All he could remember was what he had learned while in the chopper. They had all been hoping that he would regain at least a small portion of his memory while asleep, but it didn't appear as though he had. She was almost afraid to ask if he recognized her. He had known her name when they had found him, but he had no idea—
"Franziska."
Shocked, she looked over at him and their eyes met. "Y-yes?"
"That's your name, right?" He looked nervous, hoping that he had gotten it correct. Somehow, he knew that it mattered even more to her than it had the others.
She blinked in confusion. "Y-yes… Yes, it is."
Relief crossed his features. "At least I still know that…" His gaze traveled downward to the small dog now curled up contently on his legs, which he couldn't feel at all. He felt as if his mind had been shattered into millions of tiny pieces, and like shards of glass, he had to search carefully for each one, making sure not to miss any. So far, he had only recovered a few of the pieces, and they didn't fit together at all. He couldn't seem to connect anything. He only knew their names and that they had saved him, but he should know more. He just couldn't—
"Miles?"
He blinked up at her and she already regretted what she was about to ask. She didn't know why she was doing this to herself because she already knew the answer. "Do you remember… us? Do you remember what you mean to me?"
He looked up into the hopeful eyes of a stranger. He knew she wasn't a stranger to him, but she might as well have been someone he had only met once in his life, for there was only one instance he could remember, and at that time he had still only known her name. So, he had no chain of events to backtrack along for help, and he felt immense guilt as he realized how much he was about to hurt her. If only there was something he could say… something that might give her a vague hope that he knew her. "I… I know there is something there, I just… I need time to… to find it again."
She fought back the tears with all of her might. Just the simple fact that he seemed to have regained the slightest sense of himself was very reassuring. His speech was no longer choppy and immature; she could now speak to him more like an adult instead of an ill child. He understood his condition and he understood what had happened and what needed to happen. He just couldn't remember.
"Well… You should try and get some more rest," Franziska finally stated, brushing her bangs back from her eyes. "I'm going to… go see where Phoenix went. I will come see you again later in the evening." With that, she stood up and headed for the door, offering one glance back at him.
"Goodbye, Franziska."
Her smile just barely reached her eyes, and she vanished through the open door.
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
The sterile air and rhythmic beeping were the first things to come to his attention as the heavy darkness faded away. His mind snapped right into action; he was at a hospital. More specifically, he was lying in a hospital bed on his stomach and listening to his own heart rate in an irritating beep form. Miles took in a deep, shaky breath and turned his head to the side as he cautiously opened his eyes to avoid being blinded by the fluorescent lights above.
And she was the first thing he saw.
"M-Miles!" The twelve-year-old German girl sat up straight in her chair suddenly as she saw his eyes flutter open. Franziska looked utterly exhausted, as if she had been sitting in that chair even since being allowed in the room, though he had no idea how long that was exactly.
"Franziska?" Now that he had registered exactly where he was and who was with him, he realized that he couldn't quite remember why he was there. He began to think back to figure it out, but Franziska's voice interrupted his thoughts.
"H-how do you feel?" she asked timidly, not at all herself as she watched him lie here broken and battered like this, and the memory of how it had all happened only made her feel even weaker.
"I don't." Even with a mild concussion, he didn't miss a beat. It was indeed true though; he felt as if he was just a severed head lying on the pillow. They had apparently pumped him so full of pain medication that he wasn't even aware of his own body. However, the fact that they had placed him on his stomach suddenly gave him a clue, and the memory slowly fazed back into existence. "How long… have I been here?"
"A week." She was mumbling so that he could just barely catch what she was saying, as if she was afraid of being overheard. "They thought… you might have gone into a coma at first, but… I guess they were able to bring you out of it before it got too serious."
"And… are you all right?" He had blacked out as soon as her father had walked away, his defense of her no longer able to hold up. She didn't look hurt, but then again, he had been out for a week.
"I'm… I'm okay. I've been… staying here at the hospital." She glanced around momentarily, an understandable paranoia setting in. "Father has to pretend he cares when we're here. He wouldn't dare do or say anything here, although I think letting me stay here is overdoing the whole 'kindness' thing a bit too much, but I'm not complaining."
Miles listened to her with a frown etched into his face, though its effect was blurred by the drugs. "So what's the story?" he asked bitterly.
"What do you mean?" Franziska asked, eyeing him thoughtfully.
"How did this happen to me, according to your father?" He knew there was a story, a cover-up, and he knew Franziska would not dare to speak the truth about the situation. Nobody would ever believe that the perfect Manfred von Karma would ever beat the poor orphan boy he had so generously adapted into a near coma with his cane.
Franziska looked away, clutching the sleeves of her dress as she kept her arms folded. Her head was down as she spoke bitterly.
"You...you were climbing a tree. Father told you not to...but you wouldn't listen...You were...rebelling...being ungrateful to the man who had taken you in after your father's death. A-and then the limb snapped..."
She paused at this point, biting her lip to keep from sounding anything other than angry at her father... It killed her to have to lie like this to everyone about Miles' condition. "You fell... You were up so high...Father says he watched helplessly... He couldn't do anything to save you because of him being so physically incapable due to his age."
Perhaps these lines were the worst to ever escape her lips, for that was how she spoke them.
"And your body hit every limb on its way down... and you landed on the ground... only a foot from where he was standing... trying to catch you!"
She turned toward Miles with tears in her blue-gray eyes. "He nearly killed you, Miles... a-and I have to lie and watch him get all the praise... What happens... What happens when he finds out you're awake? I-I might have to go back home!" she reached out and clutched onto his arm, fear apparent in her body language and in her voice. "I'll be next, Miles! And this time, he won't take any chances! Miles, I can't leave here! He'll ki-"
"Guten tag… Franziska..."
They both froze; Miles' eyes were glued on Franziska's face, which held a look of sheer horror upon it. She had been caught. Her paranoia radar had checked out on her, and now here she was, clutching onto Miles' arm and letting her emotions show while her father entered the room.
How long had he been standing there? The whole time?
She turned slowly, fearfully, shrinking back and trembling. "G-guten tag... Vater..." she whispered. She did not release Miles' arm; she clung to it like a lifeline, though in his state he could do nothing for her. She felt his hand close around her skinny forearm, but he was no longer looking at her.
"Ah, I see you've awakened, Miles Edgeworth." With a hidden smirk, Manfred moved around the bed and came to stand behind Franziska's chair, placing a firm hand on her shoulder. She cringed as his touch and made a small and choked noise of fear, her fingers digging into the thin fabric of Miles' hospital garb. This only caused the German man to grip her more tightly, and she closed her eyes against the feeling. He would not strike her while in this public place, but… she couldn't help her fear. "Tell me, Boy, have you learned anything?"
Miles glared up at him, all regard for safety lost. "Quite a lot," he replied, his tone acid. "And I would like to share it with you some time… Sir." He added the form of address as if its taste revolted him.
Manfred noticed the tone of voice, and a glare replaced his former expression. "Very well then, Boy. Franziska…" He removed his hand from the girl's shoulder and looked down at her. "Go wait in the car."
"Y-yes… Father…" A sob shook her small frame as she gave Miles one last helpless look, and then she walked quickly from the room, wiping the moisture from her face as she went. Miles watched her go; outwardly, he was impassive, but inside a fire raged, and this man was about to discover it.
"So," Manfred began, folding his arms and leaning up against the wall parallel to the bed and facing Miles. "What is it you wish to say? I encourage you to speak your mind." There was nothing about his statement that wasn't threatening, but Miles had no fear.
"First of all," Miles began, his tone still acid and unaffected by the painkillers, "your cover-up story is bullshit, and should I decide to press charges, I'm sure an investigation would expose such a pathetic lie. In fact, I find it beyond comprehension that anyone could believe you have such a bleeding heart." His temper was rising as he spoke, and he only wished he wasn't forced to lie here and look sideways and up at this man; he wanted to face him head-on, standing at his full height while he said this.
Manfred's glare intensified upon hearing the words and the tone in which they were spoken. The nerve of this boy! "And how does being completely vulnerable make you braver? I suggest you watch your attitude or—"
"Or what, Manfred?" No 'Sir' this time around; he'd had it! "You'll beat the hell out of me in the ICU? You might have a lot of influence, but I'm willing to bet that you won't get away with that one." A bitter smile rested on his lips as he said this, but it vanished as he began his next sentence. "And secondly, if you lay another hand on Franziska, I will see to it that you rot in prison. Do I make myself clear?"
Manfred's response to this was laughter. "What was that, Boy?! You're going to put me in prison!? I wish you luck in that endeavor!"
"Shut up!" The fierce and sharp command came as a surprise to the older man, and he quieted, his face suddenly flashed with anger. However, it was nothing compared to the fires now blazing in Miles' unclouded gray eyes. "In three months I'm taking the bar exam, and then I'll be leaving for America. During those three months, if you harm a single hair on her head, she will come with me. We'll start our careers in prosecuting there, and our first order of business will be to destroy you."
This was all said in a vicious hiss, and he wasn't through. "I don't know what you see me as, Manfred, but I am nineteen years old and a legal adult. Franziska will be thirteen by the time I leave and old enough to decide what she wants to do, and—as ridiculous as it may sound to you—I am fairly certain she would rather stay with me if it meant never having to endure your sadistic abuse ever again. She'll testify to every bruise and cut you've ever left upon her, to your attempt on my life as I tried to protect her from you, as well as your attempt on her life two years ago, and I'm sure that when we get a proper investigation underway, these cliché cover-ups we've been forced to vomit all these years will be revealed for what they really are: LIES!"
By this time, von Karma's face was burning red with anger. "You keep your mouth shut, Boy, or I will—"
"Don't threaten me!" Miles interrupted with a snarl. "This conversation is over! I've stated my point and it will stand, so either send Franziska back up here so you won't have to 'resist the temptation', or take her home and leave her the hell alone! Now, get out."
"Miles Edgeworth, you—"
"Herr von Karma, is there a problem?"
A nurse stood in the doorway to Miles' room, looking quite frightened at the sight of the two men, faces flushed with fury. Manfred seemed to deflate considerably as the reality of their location penetrated his blind rage. He unclenched the fist he had formed, folded his arms, and changed his snarl to a look of mild irritation.
"Nothing at all, meine Frau." He turned sharply and proceeded toward the door at a brisk walk, Miles watching him go with the deadliest of looks. He had not allowed his anger to subside or be hidden; he was beyond caring what the other people in the hospital thought at this point.
"H-Herr Edgeworth?" The nurse was looking at him with wide eyes. "B-bist du--?"
"I'm fine," he replied flatly, turning his face toward his pillow to hide it. He didn't really expect to see Franziska reappear in the room, but he would call her every night that he had to stay in this place and find out what was going on around there. He would hold true to his threat; if he harmed her, Miles would pursue conviction until the very end. He would not tell Franziska of this unless the situation arose, of course, and he knew for sure that she would not hear about this conversation from her father.
For now, Miles would savor his victory. Even if his warning was not heeded, he had still dominated that argument and would make his sincerity clear in the courtroom. However, for Franziska's sake, he would hope that he didn't have to. If no more harm would come to her by his hand, then Miles was willing to tell the tale about how Manfred von Karma had tried so hard to save his life.