I tried to write this from Edgeworth's perspective and ended up just changing it all back to Phoenix's. Oh well.
Chapter Seven - The Situation Turnabout
Little by little, I finally fell asleep. Edgeworth didn't bother trying to keep me awake, though I got the distinct feeling that if I hadn't been lying in his arms, he probably would have gotten up and tried his own luck with the stairs. As it was, he sighed and stayed put.
The darkness kept creeping in closer around us as I dozed on and off; Edgeworth sighed again, and shifted his legs beneath me. At one point I heard him murmuring to himself; "There's no reason for it," he repeated at least twice, and in my dreaming state I imagined his state of mind. Just the memory of the earthquake probably clenched at his insides, viselike, made him think every heartbeat was another tremor.
I knew the feeling; even falling from the staircase landing, I'd felt a momentary panic completely overtake me, threaten to send me into hysterics. He was probably fighting the same emotion right now, I thought drowsily.
His heartbeat thumped against my cheek; I hoped desperately that I didn't have a concussion, though the likelihood that I didn't seemed slim. Still…his own brief unconsciousness had done wonders. Even nervous, he had seemed much less exhausted than before. Fidgety, even. Perhaps sleep would do me good, as well.
At one point he switched on my phone; a dim blue light shot up, momentarily blinding, to illuminate our surroundings. I felt an urge to grumble, but merely shifted in his lap, pretending not to wake. The light, I knew, was a defense mechanism against the darkness. Maya was still curled up in a comma a few feet away, face finally peaceful in sleep. I could barely believe she was not only old enough to drive, vote, buy pornography, and drink alcohol, but also manage an entire clan of spirit-channeling nuns. Somehow she contrived to look all of about fourteen, legs folded neatly under her robe, hair strewn around her in a shining black cloak.
Edgeworth, on the other hand… I reflected drowsily on what he'd looked like. Normally he did look rather tired, but not much older than his years. And me? The back of my neck was probably glued against his vest by dried blood, and a giant welt had swelled up to obscure the vast majority of my left eyebrow. I probably looked a fright.
A brief noise, a tiny groan, caught my attention, and I realised it had come from Maya. I opened one eye; Edgeworth's arms were tense around me. She shuddered in her sleep, grimacing a little - and suddenly glowed. It was nothing new to me, but I could practically feel Edgeworth's jaw drop as her face changed, her legs grew, and a full figure all but popped out of her acolyte's robes.
Opening her eyes, Mia sat up, blinked, and looked around, finally settling her gaze on me, then (either guessing that I was asleep or, more likely, shrewdly ascertaining that I was pretending to sleep) on Edgeworth. The look on his face must have been indescribable, because she suddenly let out a rather untoward giggle, hastily smothered. She cleared her throat. "Hello, Miles. Er… Phoenix did tell me that you didn't quite believe in spirit channeling."
He was silent for a moment, then managed a strangled, "Um." I wanted to laugh out loud, but knew it would hurt if I did. I took a deep breath, making myself go as limp as possible.
Finally, Edgeworth rallied himself. "I suppose I could have been …that cynical."
Mia's voice laughed in a low tone, and her hand touched mine. I could just see the expression on her face; concerned but wry, like a fireman who's rescued a kitten from a tree - for the fourth time that week.
"Well, I've got some results," she finally said, attention turning from me to the only ostensibly conscious person in the room. Edgeworth's arms tightened around me, as if he dreaded to hear her news. "Pearl and I have been working together to get the three of you out of here. It was a rather serious quake, and the fire department has been busy, as you might have guessed. But thanks to a certain detective and myself, they've been convinced of the importance of checking this particular stairwell. Someone should be coming rather soon."
Edgeworth's shock at seeing Maya transform seemed to be something he could get over soon. I wondered how long it had been since he'd had a deep-seated belief so abruptly and completely overturned. Probably just after his own trial. Believing in Mia's presence, he evidently trusted her word implicitly. "That is very good to know," I heard him say, rather stiffly, and quashed a rush of mirth. "I can't thank you enough, Ms. Fey."
I opened my eyes just enough to see Mia's expression: she was just looking at him, gaze flat and very much un-fooled. I felt Edgeworth shift uncomfortably, and hoped his cheeks were burning. Why, her look quite clearly said, are you calling me that? Briefly, I wondered the same thing myself. Why, even though she obviously knew everything between Edgeworth and myself (she didn't need the omniscience of death to tell it, either: the very fact that I was lying in his lap with his arms around me did more than enough, I was sure) couldn't he just call her by her forename?
Probably for the same reason that Edgeworth and I found it impossible to refer to one another in that manner, was my mind's instant rejoinder. Or… perhaps not. A sudden flash of memory struck me, and I felt my face growing red, hoping that neither of them noticed. Mia couldn't possibly have divined my thoughts - she was ostensibly still staring at Edgeworth, presumably - but I stuffed them back down into my brain anyway. "Novice bimbo," he'd once called Mia; lately, it seemed as if I longed for her advice even more than when she'd been alive. My brain was further seized with memories of my first trial against Edgeworth himself, as an almost brand-new attorney: Maya had been accused of killing her sister.
Those trials were long ago, I thought furiously, trying to quell my suddenly-vibrant conscience. Maya has long since forgiven him, and so have you.
Yes, rejoined my conscience glibly, but has Maya's sister? Has he forgiven himself?
I forced myself to focus, to secretly look back up at Mia; her face was calm, and she clearly had not noticed my consciousness, let alone sudden and unwilling trip into the past. Evidently she felt as if she and Edgeworth had little to discuss; his body relaxed under mine as she continued. "I've got to get back to Pearl," she said, fastidiously drawing the edges of Maya's robes closer together across her expansive bosom. Had I been at all interested, the effect would have been paralyzing. As it was, it merely reminded me of someone else's (very different) body, and I was amazed and gratified when Edgeworth's arms tightened further around me. A momentary spasm of guilt overtook me: I was wide awake now, and this was turning into straight-out eavesdropping.
"The fire department will be wanting directions once more, and while Pearls can be quite frightening, she doesn't command as much respect as does a grown woman."
Edgeworth, obviously trying to recover, his composure, asked, "One dressed in Pearl's outfit?"
Evidently caught by surprise, she laughed, to my utter relief. "If that were the case I'm sure I wouldn't do much better. I've temporarily commandeered some clothing from an old friend, who's much closer to my fitting." Startled, I realized she must mean Lana Skye, as she went on. "I'm sure you'll see me again in less than an hour - and, as you noted, in something a bit more fitting than usual."
The joke - rather, the running gag - had eased the situation somewhat, and I felt a sudden urge to sit up and hug Mia. But it just wouldn't have done.
"Mia…" Edgeworth said finally, sounding even more stilted and awkward than when he'd used her formal title. "I…" His chest moved under my head as he groped for words and breath with which to say them.
She smiled again, and this time her hand came out to rest not on mine, but on Edgeworth's. "Miles… do you remember my very first trial?"
He seemed quite shocked. The trial that had cost her years of raw emotion, that had killed her client… and had lost her a lover. It was utter taboo for me to speak of it with Edgeworth. He hadn't caused its outcome, of course, but he certainly hadn't helped, either. She went on. "Yes, I know what you're thinking. And I know what you're thinking about your first trial against Phoenix, too."
Edgeworth practically gasped, as did I. Evidently we were all on the same track. I knew for a fact that Mia wasn't totally omniscient, but there was something to be said for spending time in the afterlife: she'd become even more intuitive than ever before. And that was saying something.
Continuing, she explained, "Phoenix tells me about you - and I gather less information from what he says than from what he doesn't say. We've all made mistakes, and we've all been part of events that we greatly regret. Me, you, Phoenix, even Maya. And Larry. Larry, all the time."
She shook her head in mock exasperation, and Edgeworth almost choked with sudden laughter. I felt a spasm of irrational grief.
I inhaled deeply as Edgeworth's gentle (finally!) laughter shook him, and - taking a leaf out of Maya's book - curled up a little closer to him. Mia smiled, but with only fondness now. "Just take care of these two, will you? Especially Phoenix. He's…" She shook her head, as wordless as I. "You know."
"Yes," Edgeworth said dryly. I wondered briefly what, exactly, she meant: but as long as he knew, it didn't really concern me overmuch. Perhaps just that I didn't think before doing things. I knew perfectly well that I didn't, most of the time.
Mia laughed. "Don't worry about the past, Miles. Work on keeping the future happy." Pausing, she exhaled in satisfaction, and lay down once more, face going blank; in an instant, Maya's small body and expression were back, brows drawn together.
Immediately she sat up and yawned, stretching like a large purple-and-black cat. "Was that Mia?"
"Yes," Edgeworth said again, but this time warmly, with a tinge of fondness. Gratitude filled me: nothing made me happier than to see Mia and Edgeworth even partially patch up old relations. "She said that the firemen - and Detective Gumshoe, apparently - should be here soon to get us out."
I couldn't see her face, but her voice was full of light; it was moments like these when I hated myself for not having told her for so long. "That's great, Mr. Edgeworth! I never doubted it, you know. Ooh, I hope Pearly didn't beat anyone up too badly to get to us."
His low chuckle reverberated against me. Sleepiness was dropping its veil over me once more, though, and I didn't see her face when she timidly asked, "So… you and Nick…?"
There was a long silence; just as I felt myself slipping back into unconsciousness (quite willingly, this time), his answer to her was to lean forward and gently kiss my forehead. "Yes," he quite simply said.
X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X
Two people were calling my name (though differently), and it was with difficulty that I opened my eyes to stare blankly at them. Light was flooding the stairwell: but real light this time, bright and white and not coming from a cell phone. Struggling to sit up - the sleep had made me woozy, as unconsciousness often does to those not in full health - I blearily noticed that it, the light, was coming from the top of the stairs, where a group of figures were visible through the hole I'd made falling through the landing.
"Nick, wake up!" Maya was saying, her voice at once excited and full of tears. "Please!"
"I'm awake," I tried to answer, but it came out as more of a grumble.
This seemed to be enough, though. "He's okay!" she shouted up the stairwell, and now I could clearly see the tears on her face. "He hit his head earlier…"
"Come on, Wright," said a quieter voice, in my ear, and an arm under my shoulders unceremoniously hoisted me to my feet. "Mia's come back, but with help this time. We're leaving."
"That's good," I managed to say, looking over at Edgeworth. His face was practically a mask of relief, his eyes fixed upwards on the light. Several figures were peering down at us: I recognized Mia (dressed somewhat incongruously in a three-piece suit of Lana's, but with Pearls' hair and Magatama), several policeman, and at least one homicide detective. All of them were shouting down instructions to us. Someone threw down a rope ladder, that landed with a thump on the dusty floor, raising an eye-watering cloud.
Maya bent to take off her sandals and tucked them into a pair of voluminous pockets, before stepping forward to climb the ladder. I eyed it distrustfully as it swayed back and forth like a particularly unsteady suspension bridge.
"You're next," said Edgeworth's voice, and I turned to look at him. His face had become stern, and the argument I'd been about to give vanished. "I'll be right behind you."
I sighed and stepped forward; everything was proceeding like a particularly confusing dream. I'm not sure how I made it up the ladder - one uncomfortable step at a time, probably - but the next conscious awareness I came to was when someone at the top wrapped a blanket around me. Still standing, I was led by familiar faces through a group of totally unfamiliar faces; standing lamps showed the route through the unrecognizable building, until we reached the outside.
Maya's face split in a grin as a cheer arose from the crowd assembled outside: an ambulance was parked on the sidewalk nearby, but we were struggling to work our way there. Microphones jutted in our direction; an older woman (I knew her face but couldn't conjure a name) practically threw herself on Edgeworth, eyelashes batting frantically before she was none-too-gently restrained by a fireman; someone was throwing confetti, making it very hard to concentrate.
For some reason I still had an arm thrown around Edgeworth's shoulders, and so it was his ear I leaned over to speak into; "If I pretend to faint, will we get out of here faster?"
He snorted in amusement; the sound was lost in the crowd, but I could see it in his face. One of the fireman, behind him, had a similarly desperate sort of look, and judging the distance we still had to make it to the ambulance, it was merited. "If you wouldn't mind…"
I rolled my eyes up in my head and let my legs collapse entirely, falling against him bonelessly; not that playing up the part was too difficult. It did go faster that way: the firemen began insisting that the crowd part and let us through, paramedics rushed up and dragged us through, and before I could really think about it, all three of us were rescued.
The last thing I saw before actually letting myself slip back into unconsciousness were the Fey sisters, pressed desperately in one last hug, before the younger of the two turned away hastily and jumped into the ambulance with us. I closed my eyes, feeling someone's hand in mine (did it really matter whose? there were only so many options) and slept.
