(I'm back again! I've got just a couple little scenes and a nice little flashback for you, so hope you guys like it!
Oh, and once again, if you're interested in joining a PW roleplay, check out my profile. The board is getting quite a lot of attention so far!)
Chapter 23
The long, fluorescent lights above seemed to pass by of their own accord along with the rest of the scenery. She wasn't walking; she couldn't have been, for she was too numb and dazed. However, there was no one around whose attention was upon her and her location was most certainly changing, so… she must have been walking. There was no other explanation.
Phoenix Tilea moved mechanically down the hallway of the ICU, bright red bangs nearly concealing her obsidian eyes entirely. Everything was in a haze, voices didn't register or form words around her, and how she knew where she was going, she could not have guessed. She felt empty, hollow, incomplete, shattered… To cope with his death, she had detached herself from the world around her; it was Hell without him, and she refused to live in it. However, she could not abandon them, not after everything. To join him would have been selfish, not what he would have wanted her to do.
She glided around a corner and nearly crashed into the doctor standing there. The man jumped back, but she simply stopped without a reaction. "M-Miss Tilea." The doctor looked a bit taken-aback by the sight of the young woman standing in front of him. She looked unaware, as if sleepwalking, but she was indeed hearing him, though it was in a distant fog. "Miss Tilea, please follow me." Giving her one last concerned look, the doctor turned to lead her a little farther down the hall, and she followed automatically.
He led her to a closed door and stopped, stepping out of the way. "You may go inside," he stated, watching as she reached for the handle and pulled the door open with no emotion or question.
"Mew!"
She froze, her dark eyes fixed on the sight before her as her lips parted in utter shock.
How could this be?
"Damn it, Oreo! I wanted to say 'hello' first!"
The fog suddenly vanished and she practically flew across the room, leaping with her arms outstretched to wrap them around his shoulders. Gray eyes widened momentarily, and then Ares embraced her in return. Bright red hair fell over his pale face, and he ignored the slight pain her weight was causing him in his state.
"Oh my God! Ares, I… I thought…. I thought you were…"
"Heh." Ares nudged her a bit so that she pushed herself up to look at him, removing her weight from his torso. "Yeah, me too. Damn, Phoenix, you look worse than me."
Until now, Tilea had not been aware of the tears now dripping down her cheeks and she hastily wiped them away. "Don't you ever scare me like that again, you hear!?"
Ares laughed weakly, causing the small black and white cat lying on him to leap up. First, she had been nearly crushed by Phoenix, and now he was quaking! How annoying! "Hey, it was either throw myself down the stairs or be shot in the head," he told her with a smile that most would believe did not belong in this conversation. "I figured the first choice had a better percentage of survival."
Phoenix closed her eyes momentarily and swallowed hard. "Why didn't… anyone tell me you were alive?"
"You guys got sent back here to the U.S. while they were still trying to make sure I was going to live," Ares replied. "They didn't even bother identifying me until I was conscious, at which point I told them that I wanted to be transferred back to LA. They didn't know I was even affiliated with you at all."
Tilea frowned. "Guess they missed the badge, huh?" She moved off of the bed and sat down heavily in the chair beside him, Oreo immediately leaping up onto her lap to settle down. "Miles just woke up about ten minutes ago," she said, looking down and stroking the purring animal.
"Oh yeah?" Ares was staring up at the ceiling as he spoke. "How's he doing?"
"I was called out before I could really assess him, though I have to admit I might not have really been up to it had I not come in here first." She finally turned to look at him. "He didn't seem much more aware, but I think there has been a bit of progress as far as his thought process goes. I'll have to go back and speak with him to really know for sure." Just like that, she had returned to her old self. As soon as she had seen him alive, she had returned to full awareness, full life. It was as if none of it had ever happened.
Just then, there was a light knock at the door and it opened slowly. Both agents looked up and locked eyes with a startled Franziska von Karma. "A-Ares?"
"Hey, Franziska." He grinned over at her and a look of joyous relief crossed the German woman's face. Quickly, she moved into the room and over to offer Ares a friendly embrace, not quite as enthusiastic—or painful—as Tilea's.
"Ares, we thought…"
He laughed again. "I know. Phoenix told me. You guys are pretty pessimistic, you know that?"
Upon hearing this, both women snorted with laughter, and it was Tilea who called him out on it. "Look who's talking, Captain Razorblade."
"Oh, shut up!" He smacked her on the upper arm as she laughed. "Well, in any case, I'm alive and I want to know what the hell I missed. So how 'bout it?"
With a smirk, Tilea leaned sideways over him and spoke the two words in a drawn-out and rather high-pitched tone of voice. "Say pleeeeeaaase…"
"Ugh!" Ares pushed her away and cringed.
Franziska was stifling laughter behind her hand. "Would you two behave?"
Both Phoenix and Ares looked at her, and without even glancing at one another, replied simultaneously. "Say pleeeeeaaase!"
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
Franziska awoke with a soft groan, the stiffness of her muscles painful enough to have woken her from her light sleep. She sat up straight in the chair and leaned her head back, turning it back and forth to crack her neck. It gave a loud pop and she hissed quietly, now moving her hand up to rub her own neck and shoulders. She muttered something in German under her breath, certain that the other occupant of the dark room was too far gone to hear her.
"Are you okay?"
Franziska snapped her head up toward the voice, but there was no light in the room. However, she knew now that he was awake and was probably looking at her. She reached over and turned on a dim lamp on the desk near her, bringing the room's features into more detail and allowing her to see his face.
Yes, Miles was indeed wide awake and looking in her direction. She wondered curiously how long he had been up, for there were no signs of sleep in his slightly misted gray eyes. "I'm… all right," she finally replied, rubbing her own eyes now. She was exhausted and very stiff; she had been sleeping in this chair each night since he had been placed here, so she had gotten very little sleep since arriving, though her sleep had not been peaceful or steady for the past two months anyway.
"Why don't you… lie down?" He was looking at her with concern, knowing full well that her position was not a comfortable one.
Franziska lowered her head and placed a hand over her forehead. "There isn't a place for me to lie down," she replied. "And… I want to stay with you. I'll be—"
She looked up suddenly and saw that his hand had moved from its place resting over his chest clasping his blanket to now reach toward her. She blinked at him, a bit confused and hesitant. "Miles?"
"You can lie down here if you'd like."
Amazed, she reached out and took hold of his hand in both of hers. "Miles… Y-you… You remember?" She was suddenly wide awake, hope and near desperation shining in her tired eyes as she gazed upon him.
Miles seemed to hesitate at her sudden urgency, and his head lowered slightly as he tried to work out his response. He felt her grip on his hand slacken a bit, and knew that this action had crushed her hopes, so he quickly inhaled and returned his gaze to her. "More than... I did," he said quickly in an attempt to recover. "I know that… you're someone very important to me, and… and I'm really glad you're here with me."
Well, it wasn't what she had been hoping for, but she had to tell herself that this was more than anyone had expected of him so soon. She worked a warm smile onto her face and stood, moving to stand over him. "And… I'll be here until you remember everything," she said, reaching up to brush a few strands of hair from his face.
He looked up at her, an odd curiosity in his eyes. "…And then?"
"Huh?" Hers held confusion now, and the hand that had touched his hair was now clasping the collar of her shirt nervously. "W-what do you mean?"
"After I remember everything… Then what happens?"
She stared at him, lips slightly parted and eyes a bit wider than normal. Her grip on his hand had slackened a bit without her knowledge, and he glanced down at it quickly before returning his gaze to her face, waiting for a response.
Then what? Why… she hadn't expected ever have to answer that question. She had just expected to go on with life, take things as they came. Sure, she had hopes, but no plans. Besides, she had no idea what he would be like in the near future. What if this experience had forever changed him? What if… he became distant? What if… he no longer wanted to be with her?
As these fears played around in her head, she was silent and still, and this concerned him. Miles began to rethink, wondering if he should simply disregard his own question for her benefit. It was obvious it had upset or frightened her, though he hadn't intended either to happen.
"Miles, I… I don't know how to answer that." She could come up with nothing more than the truth. Every answer she had thought up seemed wrong in some way, and he was not half-aware as he had been back in Germany. He would understand and remember what she said, and false promises or hopes were not something she cared to give him, for they were not something she would want to be given.
Miles watched her for another few moments before speaking again. "Well… what… do you want to happen?"
Okay, so maybe this was a bit more straightforward, but it was still a difficult question nonetheless. Franziska stayed in her position for a moment, and then sighed, lowering her head and releasing Miles' hand so that she could walk around to the other side of the bed. Carefully, she crawled in beside him and lay on her side facing him, reaching across his stomach to take his hand once more and laying her head on his shoulder. "I just want you to recover," she said finally. "And… then I want things to go back to the way they used to be before this nightmare started. I know… you probably don't remember it right now, but… but you will, and when that time comes, you'll understand."
Miles looked down at her, that same look of curiosity that had become so familiar to her even though he had only been awake for a short amount of time. He remembered her, yes, but it was different. In his memory, she had been much younger, and… he had thought of her as his sister… right? Well… she wasn't really his sister; he knew that for sure, but… obviously her feelings for him had changed. So… had his changed for her as well? Or… maybe this was just like when they were children, when they secretly needed the comfort of the other. Was this like when he would lie with her while she cried herself to sleep after—
Wait a minute…
He remembered their childhood? How was it that a single dream had suddenly brought back so much? He hadn't even realized it until now but… he remembered her… as a child.
Now, if only he knew her now. If only he could be sure what this embrace meant. Was it a sisterly gesture, or… something more?
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
"Miles Edgeworth, how can you just pack up and leave like this!?"
"Franziska, please calm down. It's not like we'll never see each other again. I just—"
"You've been here for ten years! Why would you want to go back to America!? You don't even know what it's like over there anymore!"
"I honestly don't think it could have changed that much, and as long as I know the legal system, there's no problem." Miles flipped the clasps closed on another suitcase and tossed it aside, finally turning to look at her. "I'm sorry, Franziska, I would just prefer to make a name for myself in my home country."
The thirteen-year-old girl stood with her arms folded, glaring at him from the door of his bedroom. She was running out of arguments, and she wasn't about to start giving him her real reasons for wanting him to stay. "But… Miles Edgeworth… this is your home now, isn't it?"
Miles had been reaching for a small leather bag to be used for carry-on, but he froze, and then looked at her, his eyes suddenly holding a depth that no one had ever seen but the young girl standing before him.
"…This is not a home," he stated, his voice only just above a whisper, but clear as day. He turned without another word, picking up the bag and moving off to his adjoining bathroom, leaving Franziska awe-struck in the doorway.
He was right… but… how could he just leave her here? This house was not a home, it was Hell, and he was just going to leave her on her own. He was leaving her behind.
Five minutes later, Miles immerged from the bathroom with the leather bag and moved to place it on top of one of his other suitcases, turning around to see that she was still standing there. "Franziska?"
"…I don't want you to leave…"
He stared at her, unsure of what he thought he had just heard. "What… was that?"
"I don't want you to leave!" She looked angry, frustrated, hurt, and so many other things that he couldn't recognize them all, and neither could she. "There! I said it! Happy!?"
Now, he was shocked. Yes, he felt bad for leaving her behind, but she had passed the bar exam with flying colors; she was going to be a prosecutor at age thirteen! She would be out of here in no time, and she would make history as the youngest prosecutor to ever step foot in a court of law!
And yet…
With a sigh, he lowered his head so that his bangs shadowed his eyes. He moved to his bed and sat down on the edge of it, motioning for her to join him. She hesitated, but cautiously came to him, though she did not sit down. She simply stood in front of him, arms crossed, bottom lip curled in, and fighting back those forbidden tears.
"No, I'm not happy," he finally answered, looking directly into her light gray eyes. The height of his bed allowed him an inch or two on her even while sitting down, but the difference was not extremely noticeable; it was as if he was now at her level instead of towering over her as he normally did. "I wouldn't be doing this if I had a choice; you know that."
"I'm not so sure that's the truth." She was using anger to hide her sadness, and it was more obvious than she cared for it to be. "This is your chance to get out of here; why wouldn't you take it?"
"And your chance isn't that far away, Franziska."
She lowered her head, now staring at the floor. "Why… can't you stay with me until then?"
Miles sighed again, looking down at his hands before raising his chin once more to look at her, though she did not meet his gaze. "Your father wants me to go to America with him now; he won't allow me to stay here with you while he is gone this time. Not after… what's happened. He feels that… we've been distracting each other lately, so he is escorting me to America where I'll begin my career while you begin yours here."
Silence fell, and she still didn't look up. Her hands were clasped in front of her now, making her look less hostile and more as if she had been defeated. She could not argue with her father's will, and neither could he.
Miles hesitated for a few seconds, weighing out the consequences of his actions before finally making up his mind. He reached forward and gently cupped her chin in his hand, lifting it so that their gazes finally met and he could see how her eyes shined with unshed tears. "This isn't 'goodbye', Franziska," he said, leaning forward slightly so that she could see the earnestness in his deep, penetrating eyes. "You may call me any time you like, and I will visit you here whenever I get some free time. Who knows? Perhaps one day you could come to America for a while." He smiled at her in a reassuring sort of way, hoping to drive away her fears and sadness.
She looked at him with unwavering attention as he spoke, and she saw the sincerity in eyes and heard it in his voice. Maybe… Maybe he wasn't just leaving her. Maybe this was really for the best.
A single sob escaped her, and she closed her eyes for a moment, bringing a hand up to wipe away any of the moisture that might have leaked from them. When she reopened them, they were clearer, though still held a forlorn look that gave Miles no relief from his guilt. Slowly, she moved forward and climbed up onto his lap, kneeling on his thighs and facing him. He placed his hands on her waist to keep her from falling and she placed her hands on his shoulders for a similar purpose.
For long moments they simply gazed at each other, and then with shaking breath, Franziska slowly leaned forward, bending her head down past his and placing her lips against the side of his neck. Miles lurched with surprise, but then he was still, taking in a slow, trembling breath and staring at the wall in front of him. The sensation had sent waves of electricity through him, and it was taking all he had to keep his composure. She had no idea of what she was doing to him, still so young and innocent… His guilt was now for a different reason.
He held her firmly, his lips parted as if he was making a compromise between his mind and his body. He would enjoy this, but not too much, and he wouldn't let her know. He would keep silent, and he managed this, relief and disappointment setting in when she finally pulled away, removing one of her hands from his shoulder to wipe her face once again.
"Did I… do it right?" she asked hopefully. "A… kiss. Was that right?"
Oh, what an awkward situation he had gotten himself into…
His heart was racing, and he knew this was wrong. But… she didn't know any better, and he couldn't find it in himself to try and explain that to her. It would only cause problems anyway, so…
He chuckled lightly. "Yes, but… let me show you another way."
Translation: "Let me show you a less suggestive way."
Now that she was kneeling on him, he had to look up at her, and he lifted his chin to place his lips against hers, only lingering for a fraction of a second before pulling back.
She blinked at him. "What's… the difference?" she asked, honestly confused.
"That's the way people usually do it. Well… siblings anyway. I only did it the other way because you weren't looking at me."
Nice cover-up!
"So… then I did it wrong?" Her gaze was cast downward now.
"No, no. You didn't," he said quickly, taking hold of one of her hands. "That was a kiss; I just never taught you the normal way of going about it."
"Oh… Okay." With her free hand, she wiped her face a third time. "Well… Um…"
But whatever she was about to say was interrupted by the all-too-familiar sound of Manfred von Karma's cane thumping against the hardwood floor a few yards down the hall. With a gasp, Franziska leapt down off of Miles' lap and Miles stood up in her absence, moving off to pretend he was checking his carry-on bag for everything, even though he had already done so three times.
"Are you ready, Boy?" The tall, ominous German man stood in the doorway now, leaning on his cane and watching Miles as the young man zipped up the bag in his hands.
Miles looked up, all traces of his interaction with Franziska gone from his features. "Yes, Sir," he replied, his face a mask of stone.
Manfred's cold gaze lingered on the young man for a moment, before shifting to his daughter, who became rather uneasy all of a sudden. "And what are you doing in here, Girl?" he questioned suspiciously. He had become even more prying lately whenever the two of them happened to be in the same room together for any amount of time, and rightly so as far as he was concerned.
Fortunately, Franziska quickly found an escape. "I was going to help carry out his luggage, Father." In truth, she really did not wish to aid him in leaving her, but if it meant avoiding her father's anger, she would endure it.
Manfred continued to glare at his daughter for a few tense seconds, and then he decided that it was a passable excuse and looked back at Miles. "I will be out front. Don't keep me waiting." With that, he turned and vanished from sight.
The atmosphere in the room changed with his leaving, becoming less stifling as both remaining occupants breathed a sigh. Miles reached down to pull one case up and throw the strap over his shoulder before, picking up two more and turning toward the door. Hesitantly, Franziska picked up the last remaining piece of luggage, struggling a bit with the bulky suitcase as she followed Miles out of the room and down the stairs toward the front door.
Sure enough, Manfred was behind the wheel of his expensive car, looking impatient as usual. Without looking up at the two children, he hit a button to open the trunk, and Miles threw his bags in, turning to remove Franziska's burden and throw it in as well. With a slam, he shut the trunk and turned to open the passenger-side door. However, before he did so, he looked back at Franziska, who—for the sake of not being scolded by her father—had a blank look on her face, her arms folded across her chest.
"Auf Weidersehen, Miles Edgeworth," she muttered, and Miles hoped her father could not see the tears that were welling in her eyes.
Miles gave her a warm smile, his face turned away from the older man. "I'll see you around, Franziska."
She nodded, his smile vanished, and he opened the car door. She watched him slip into the car and pull the door closed behind him, watched with a terrible pang as he looked straight ahead and not back at her, watched with tearful eyes as the car pulled away, winding down the long driveway and onto the road beyond.
A cold breeze blew her hair back from her tear-stained face, and Franziska simply stood there, staring down the driveway at nothing.
"I'll… see you around… Miles…."