Quicksand

Chapter 3: The Will to Fight

The overwhelming guilt had set in just about the time she'd closed the bedroom door behind her, but she couldn't turn back. Franziska walked slowly down the hallway, down the stairs, and into the living room, her pace so steady it was as if she was walking to the beat of a drum. Her movements all felt forced and mechanical, and it was the smallest relief when she reached the couch, a place to collapse.

Her father... Her father... Her Papa... God, it didn't sound right! No... he'd been no saint. She'd looked up to him, respected him, done her best to follow the trail he'd lain before her and measure up to his standards. However, she had also feared him, his strict rule, and occasionally-violent temper. But this...

Franziska wanted to be in denial, but she couldn't shake the feeling that... she just knew it was the truth. Her father had told quite a few lies... Miles had never straight-up lied to her... only this gigantic lie of omission. So... she knew it was true when she weighed the two men against one another morally...

But it was still so unbelievable. She wasn't about to go watch that video again to try and figure it out, and the knowledge that the unseen man in it was her father made her incredibly sick to her stomach. Never had she imagined him capable of something like that... Okay, so he'd committed murder...but what she had just seen was in a completely different category, took a totally different type of sadism to do...

And on top of the utter shock lay the revulsion. She had lain with Miles a few times in the recent months, and to now learn that her father was the first to have him... God, it all made her so queasy! She knew that walking out on Miles when he was in so much distress probably hadn't been the right thing to do, but she hadn't been able to lie there with him any longer. Sure... she'd probably be fine later on... She couldn't blame him for any of this, really, but for now she couldn't be near him. She couldn't be near anybody.

Meanwhile, upstairs, Miles was falling to pieces again. She'd just... left... She'd asked to confirm it was her father... He'd said nothing... Then, she'd just stood without a word and left him alone.

He probably disgusted her... He knew that she'd gone to watch that horrible recording earlier, seen him at the lowest point of his life, and after finding out the truth, she probably couldn't stomach him any longer. He shuddered and let out a sob as his weeping began again and he buried his face in his arms, curling up into a ball as best he could. He suddenly felt filthy and degraded, weak and vulnerable, just as he had back then, as if he'd never made any progress, never worked to get over any of it.

But this time... he was alone. She didn't even want to be near him... and he couldn't blame her. He doubted anyone would want to be near him after today... He was sure he could just vanish into thin air and the world would breathe a sigh of relief from the tension and awkwardness it felt around him.

He had just thought... for one moment... that Franziska would be different... that she would somehow put it all aside and just... be there with him... just for comfort... But how could he expect that of her...? After what she'd just learned, Miles felt that he'd understand if she just abandoned him...

As all these thoughts raced around in his head, the exhaustion he felt began to cloud them over time, and finally, all the crying and stress put him to sleep, a place he should've known he didn't want to be...

ooooooooooooooooooooo

How could anything hurt this badly...?

Miles absolutely refused to open his eyes, to look at the man responsible for such anguish. His body was jerking with sobs so heavy that his chest was soar, just another part of him that ached as he lay on the cold, polished wooden surface of the desk in Manfred von Karma's study. Only sixteen and he already felt a hundred years old, as if in this last twenty minutes, his life had been ended and his soul had been ripped from his exposed and battered body.

"Now... have I made myself perfectly clear...?"

That voice... Oh, that horrible voice! Miles didn't believe in all of that Heaven and Hell nonsense the religious types preached about, but he was sure that if he were to hear Satan himself speak, that was what his voice would sound like.

The teen was far too petrified by terror to give a reply, and thus his punishment was not over. A rough hand seized a fistful of his hair and pulled his head back, smacking the back of it against the desk.

"Answer me!"

Miles cried out, and this was followed by another sob and choked, pleading response. "Y-yes, Sir..."

But his answer wasn't good enough. That hand tugged harder on his hair, straining it at the roots and making Miles groan in pain and reach up to try and pry that hand away. He had no success, for Manfred reached out with his free hand to grab it, twisting the young man's wrist until he heard the bones pop. "No... That is not what I wish to hear from you..." the German prosecutor hissed, leaning over his victim so that Miles could smell the scent of Earl Grey tea on his breath.

"...w-what do you want...?" Miles asked in desperation, his voice quivering. He wanted this to end, to get out of here and up to his room where he could hide for the rest of his life!

"Obedience," the older man growled. "You will obey your Master!"

Miles gasped, and finally, his eyes flew open to stare in horror at the sinister face above him. "N-no!" No, this couldn't mean what it sounded like! He would not be treated like this! He would not be humiliated like this ever again!

The response to his protest was given without a word. Manfred forced him to turn over from where he'd been lying on his back, and as Miles continued to protest, he began to feel the harsh lashes of a riding crop against his skin. He was held firmly in place, his crying and struggles useless as he was beaten, and all the while, Manfred was calm and silent. He struck the boy over and over again, almost in a rhythmic fashion, ignoring his pleas until the red marks spanned the length of the teen's back, which he was then forced to turn over and lie on.

"...Let us try this again..." came that dark, menacing voice from above him, able to be heard even over his ragged breathing and the pounding of his heart in his ears. "Do I make myself perfectly clear -" The whip cracked just inches above his face, making the teen lurch in fear. "- Miles Edgeworth?"

Everything hurt... Every part of his body ached, as did his mind. Every part of him screamed for relief, for cooperation to save himself more torment. Defiance was futile, and his dignity, pride, and self-respect were being drowned out by the overwhelming fear and desperate need for a reprieve.

And so he was broken, unable to look ahead with the knowledge that this submission would now dominate his life for years to come.

"...Y-yes... Master..."

As that chilling laughter filled his ears, all began to fade to black, but before he was rescued from this horrible memory, he just had to hear that voice one more time.

"Perfect... Now get out of my sight, pathetic mutt..."

ooooooooooooooooooooo

His awakening was not peaceful. Miles gasped and sat up, panting as if he had just surfaced from too much time spent holding his breath beneath a pool of water... the water he felt like he was drowning in. Nightmares... they were nothing new to the prosecutor, but that didn't mean he was desensitized to what his dreams could show him... especially when it was such a vivid memory...

With a soft groan, Miles slumped back against his pillow, staring up at the ceiling. The first time it had happened... the first night... the night his destruction had begun... He'd started to get rebellious and defiant as most teenagers did... but Manfred had instantly stomped that right out of him... by taking complete control, by expelling that defiance and rebellious attitude right out of him. He had not made threats or simply beaten him... No... it had been so much more than that, and Miles didn't think he'd ever forget the pain, the fear, the humiliation and feeling of worthlessness he had felt that first time he'd become a victim of that man's sadism.

And what that dream had shown him was the aftermath, when he had been so traumatized and hurt that breaking him had been so easy. Yes, he had resisted further after that night, but not for very long. He'd been violently beaten and abused, forced to wear that collar all the time and keep it hidden beneath the collar of his shirts. The pain and the mind games had soon broken his spirit, and by the time that degrading video had been made, his strength and will to fight had been all but gone. In fact... if memory served him right... that had been the last time he'd ever tried to get away, although his pleading for mercy had never really stopped... but Manfred hadn't ever seemed to mind that... Miles supposed he'd enjoyed it...

With a shaky sob, he rolled over, burying his face in his arms once more as he felt that burning in his throat and behind his eyes that signaled the presence of new tears even after he'd thought they had run dry. As if the memories and the hurt hadn't been bad enough... That dream had made it all so much clearer in his mind.

"...Miles?"

Even though her voice was quiet and gentle, it startled him badly. He turned onto his back quickly with a small gasp, looking with wide eyes at the slightly-surprised look on Franziska's face as she stood in the open doorway. He swallowed, trying to calm himself, but he didn't speak, too shaken and upset.

"...I... heard you shouting... Are you... all right...?" She looked nervous, but she began to walk toward him, truly concerned despite what was going on in her own mind.

Miles looked away from her, saying nothing. His answer was 'no', but he didn't say it. His reaction spoke for him, and thus Franziska had to just put aside her feelings and come back to his side, to try and comfort her lover.

"...Miles... I'm sorry, I just..."

"...You don't have to say anything..." he mumbled, still looking away from her even as she embraced him. "...You're disgusted... I don't... blame you..."

She bit her bottom lip, and then shook her head, hugging him closer and placing a timid kiss against his forehead. "No... That's... that's not it, Miles, I swear it... I'm just... I just don't know how to deal with this... It's... not your fault..."

Once again, Miles gave no verbal response to this, but he finally turned to rest his head against her shoulder and somewhat complete the embrace. He just needed to try and take comfort in her presence... even knowing that she wasn't exactly comfortable herself.

"...For how long... did this go on...?" She needed answers. This had all been kept from her until now, and though the truth was horrifying to her, she wouldn't settle for only knowing part of it.

"...Until the day of his arrest..." Miles whispered, swallowing hard as that memory too returned to him, how he'd realized just how badly he'd been deceived, used, and betrayed. That weight had been overbearing, and he wasn't sure how he'd mostly kept his cool there in the courtroom.

Franziska had a very unpleasant look on her face, this information disturbing her greatly, but she couldn't back away... couldn't let this get to her. She still had questions she needed answered. "...And the woman...?" she asked, her voice quivering slightly. "...Who was the woman that filmed that...?"

He took in a shaky breath, swallowing that air before he gave his response. "...She was... s-someone that worked with him... a-at the prosecutors' offices... I... I think... she was... his secretary..."

"...But... why...?" she heard herself asking, not understand this at all. Not only could she not imagine her father doing something like this, but getting some woman from work to film it?

"D-don't ask me that..." he whispered, shaking his head. "I don't know... F-for nine years I wanted to know why..."

"...I'm sorry..." She looked away, feeling a small amount of disappointment, but scolding herself for even thinking to ask that question. Of course he wouldn't know why... for there was no reason that could justify doing that to someone, not to them anyway. There had to be some reason behind it all though... even if it wouldn't justify such cruelty.

However, there was just one more thing she needed to know, and it was very important.

"...Was that the only video?"

Silence, painfully-heavy silence followed this question, and you could have cut the tension with a knife until Miles finally gave her the answer she'd been dreading.

"...no..."

Her breath hitched in her throat, and she sat up straighter. "Miles, you have to tell me who is in possession of those videos, who released one...? They might... release the others..."

Miles gritted his teeth and clenched his fist, gripping the fabric of her dress in his fingers. "I... I don't know..." he whimpered, shaking his head. "...It... it c-could be her... I-it was... a-all her idea to begin with..."

And this was when all the pain vanished from Franziska's light blue-gray eyes to be replaced with fire and determination. "Miles... we have to stop this... I'm not going to let someone destroy your reputation like this."

Slowly, Miles raised his head to look at her in astonishment, trying to blink away the tears he couldn't seem to stop shedding. "W-what...?"

"We're going to Germany," Franziska stated, her resolve restored. "No one disgraces my family and gets away with it!" Perhaps she had sounded a bit like her father in that moment, but she wasn't referring to him. Miles was her family now, had been for eighteen years, first as a sibling-like figure, and now as her lover. She would do whatever it took to preserve what was left of his honor, and by extension, her own.

Miles bit his lip, now looking extremely nervous and unsure. "...Franziska, I... I don't know if I can-"

"I don't want to hear that from you, Miles Edgeworth," she scolded him, though her tone was more gentle than it would have been with anyone else. She leaned in to press a kiss to his lips before speaking again, her tone now soft and encouraging. "You are stronger than that... If you were able to hide this so well... and then put it all behind you within a matter of a year, you can do this. I don't think you want any more of this getting out... do you?"

He looked at her for a moment longer, and then bowed his head. "...Of course not..."

"That's what I thought. Now... get some rest..." She pressed another kiss to his lips and coaxed him to lie down against his pillow. "...I will book our flight. We'll be leaving as soon as possible."

Miles took a moment to compose himself, taking in a deep breath and letting it out slowly. "...th-thank you... Franziska..." he whispered, truly grateful for the strength she was showing, for the initiative she was taking to get him back on his feet and to salvage what was left of his honor. "...I love you..."

She smiled, brushing his bangs away from his eyes and watching him close them. "I love you, too... no matter what happened to you in the past..."

Her words were a comfort, and they allowed him to relax just a bit more in preparation to fall asleep, to rest and recover from the worst day he'd had in a while. He felt her leave his side, but he knew she would return when she was finished with what she had to do to prepare for their departure.

Confronting his past... He'd never wanted to do it... but today had taught him that running away and keeping it all inside could only harm him further. So, it was time to turn and fight... He just had to hope it wasn't too late to come out the victor.