Disclaimer: I do not own Phoenix Wright in any way. Nor do i own The Hazards of Love by The Decemberists, which is where the title of this fic has been taken.
A/n: This is a vague idea i had many months ago and decided to put up. There will be seven 'chapters' and an epilogue.
6) Helplessness
She's surprised at the amount of people sitting in the room. For some reason, when she envisaged today, she only saw herself sitting here. Even Sister Bikini doesn't know that she came. A cover of the truth; she is in the city, but not just for work reasons.
She's never been in a court of law before. It's ironic – her sins all seem to have been argued in front of a judge, yet she's never even seen one. No one else seems to be having the same experience she is though. They're all watching intently.
Iris has the feeling that, if she said who she was, one of two things could happen. She would either be allowed to sit nearer the front of the public gallery to watch or everyone would insult her and force her to leave. She doesn't know which one she would hate more, so she stays at the back, her temple hood over her face. It's probably better that no one looks at her and puts two and two together.
(Part of her wonders whether she's ashamed. She is ashamed, but that has nothing to do with her hiding. She would never truly be ashamed of her sister)
"I will now turn to the case of the State against Dahlia Hawthorne," the judge says. "The defendant has been found guilty of the crimes of murder and attempted murder." Iris watches the judge's bland face. This is clearly just another trial to him. Another sentence.
"Get on with it," a man sitting in front of Iris hisses. Iris can't help but agree with the man. But the judge begins to describe the events of the case in detail, explaining the factors which he has taken into account when determining Dahlia's sentence.
Dahlia seems very isolated in the defendant's stand. It's not a feeling Iris has associated often with her sister but it seems true anyway – there's no one left to help her. Whatever happens next, Dahlia can't plot her way out of it.
Iris winces every time the judge mentions a crime or misdeed. The words which hurt the most are:
"You proceeded to mislead Mr. Wright in an effort to retrieve the poison."
They're factual. And even though Dahlia did play a part of it, Iris feels like those words should be directed at her.
(Sometimes, she wonders how she has any normal dreams. Doug Swallow and Feenie haunt her sleep. Two more faces to join Diego Armando, Terry Fawles and Valerie Hawthorne. Five people she could not save)
(Six people. She forgot Dahlia)
"Having taken all of this into account, I will proceed with my sentence."
"Death," hisses the man in front. "She deserves it."
Iris wants to clap her hands over her ears. People can't be calling for Dahlia's death. That's wrong. That's murder.
(Dahlia called for five other deaths. And Iris helped. A life for a life)
"Dahlia Hawthorne, your crimes were heinous. Although allowances can be made, I see none for you. In this case, the law is very clear."
No, Iris thinks. Don't. Please.
"For the attempted murder of Phoenix Wright and the murder of Douglas Swallow, I hereby sentence you to death by hanging."
The judge says more, about the date for this execution, but Iris has stopped listening. The world is spinning around her. She knew what would happen. She knew what sentence Dahlia would get. But, somehow, she had hoped that something would change. That Dahlia would be saved.
"That is all."
The judge leaves the room. The people in front of Iris begin to laugh. She can't take this. She needs to ... she doesn't know. Her eyes fill with tears as she begins to move out of the room.
"Oh, sorry," a man says as he accidently walks into her, knocking her to the floor. Iris looks up to see the face of the man who had sat in front of her. He holds a hand out. "Let me help you up."
She pulls herself up. "Thank you," she says.
He peers at her. Iris' heart leaps into her mouth. "Hey, you're crying. You alright, miss? I didn't knock you too hard?"
Relief overwhelms her. "N-no," she says.
He nods understandingly. "Don't worry. We got our revenge for Doug, didn't we?"
"I know," she whispers. "I should go. Thank you for your kindness."
"No problem," he says and turns back to his jubilant friends. Vaguely, Iris wonders whether his reaction to her would have been the same if he had gotten a proper look at her face. She leaves quickly, before she can find out.
She isn't sure where she's walking to. It's only when she sees a familiar figure being escorted by two men that she realises. Even subconsciously, she can't stay away.
Dahlia notices Iris. "Enjoy the show?" she asks, slowing down.
"No."
"Then why did you come?" She sounds bored but Iris can see the curiosity in her eyes.
"I just wanted to..."
(No one should be sentenced to death without someone in the room to cry for them.)
"Did you think justice was done?"
(In a way, yes.)
"I ... I don't want you to die," Iris replies.
Dahlia shrugs. "Should have thought of that earlier, Iris."
"Come on, Hawthorne. To the cells," a guard says, gripping her arm. Dahlia rolls her eyes at him, shrugs her arm free and begins to walk in a dignified manner.
"I'll visit you," Iris says desperately. "I'm sorry!"
Dahlia shrugs. "If you say so."
"I am."
Dahlia is nearly at the door. She doesn't turn around as she says, "I know you are. I hope you watch me die."
Iris watches as the guards bundle her sister away.
"I promise," she whispers.
(After all, Dahlia had the courage to look at those she killed; Iris will do the same)
