Quicksand

Chapter 5: Lie Down

Franziska couldn't remember the last time she'd cried so much... It had probably been when she'd received the call that a suicide note had been found in Miles' office. She had felt betrayed and abandoned back then... just as she felt now.

The tear-soaked pillow was uncomfortable to lie on, but she barely registered this. Franziska had managed to hold herself together long enough to take a cab home and tell the serving staff not to allow Miles entry back into the house. Then, as soon as she'd reached the room they'd been staying in and closed the door, she'd lost it.

Coming here had been such a mistake! First, she was asked to whore herself out for information, and after refusing and screaming a few fierce curses, she'd stormed out of Ewald's office to see Miles deep in a kiss with that blond secretary right in the middle of the hallway. Shameless! How could he do this to her...? She had never thought him capable of something like this... but... she had learned so much about him recently that she was beginning to wonder if she really knew Miles at all...

And he hadn't even arrived home yet... She'd asked to know if he'd tried to come back in, and no one had said a thing so far. Hah! He was probably still at the prosecutors' offices with that blond scank! How could he do this to her! She had come here for him, faced Astor for him, and this was how he repaid her!

Just another man, she supposed...

oooooooooooooooooo

"Oh, Schatzi, you've lost your touch..." Amelinda sounded incredibly disappointed as she stood and straightened out her dress, peering down at the prosecutor she had undressed and handcuffed to one of the legs of the couch they had earlier been sitting on.

Miles was breathing heavily and biting back reactions to the pain he was in, refusing to show the weakness she remembered him for. He couldn't quite manage a glare at the moment, but he was working on it.

She sighed. "Ah well... Maybe it's me. I guess I'm just not as good at this as Herr von Karma was..." She crouched down in front of him once more, tracing her index finger over his lips. "...But don't worry... I'll learn..."

Finally, he mustered the strength to glare at her. "I didn't come back here to take up my old life; I came here to remove all trace of it!"

She chuckled softly, pressing a light kiss to his lips. "And you're doing such a good job of it," she cooed, mocking him as she finally reached down to unlock the cuffs and release him. She seemed to know he was far too much of a gentleman to strike her, but oh did he want to!

Miles grabbed his discarded clothing and began to dress as quickly as possible, hating the feel of her eyes fixed on him the entire time. Then, as he finished doing up the clasp of his belt, he felt her hands on his neck. He froze, refusing to look back at her while her fingers moved over his skin.

"You know... You just don't look the same without the collar..." she observed, sounding now saddened. "What did you do with it, Schatzi? You looked so adorable with it on..."

Miles gritted his teeth, growling his response through them. "I burned it. Now get your hands off of me..."

She sighed, removing her hands from his neck and just letting him finish dressing himself, still watching with a smoldering gaze. "It's because I'm a woman, isn't it, Schatzi?" she inquired. "I'm not going to get you to respect me the way you did him, am I?"

He hated this question, but when it came down to it... he had respected and obeyed Manfred, out of fear, but nonetheless... So, he didn't need to correct her; he just answered her question. "No... You're not, and your gender doesn't have a damn thing to do with it." With that, he'd finished dressing, and before she could torment him any further, he pulled her office door open and walked out. He was in a lot of pain, but he focused all of his efforts on not letting it show. He left that building and drove the black Mercedes back to the manor with as much dignity as possible.

But it was as he made his way up to the front door that he couldn't hold that weakness back any longer, and he had to hold himself up using the porch railing as he fished for his keys to unlock the front door and enter.

However, he was surprised when one of the butlers opened the door from the inside, as if they'd been waiting for him.

"Ich bin Leid, Herr Edgeworth, but Frau von Karma has given us the strict order not to allow you entry into this house."

He felt his heart sink upon hearing this, and the desperation surfaced once more. "Bitte... If I'm not allowed in... tell her to come to the door. I... must speak with her..."

The butler nodded and turned to call the request out to another servant so that he could stand guard by the door as he had been ordered to. He couldn't help but look at Miles; the prosecutor looked as if he'd been beat up. He was breathing a bit too heavily and didn't appear to be able to stand up properly. There were also four long scratches running down one side of his face that had obviously been bleeding at one point, as if some vicious animal had clawed him.

As he waited, Miles stared down at the porch, not meeting the other man's eye. God, he hoped Franziska would hear him out... He couldn't lose her because of that bitch... and his own weakness...

The sound of heels on the hardwood floor of the foyer alerted him to her approach. The butler stepped aside, and Franziska appeared in the doorway, her whip in her hand and scorn fixed on her face... though her puffy red eyes were the tell-tale sign that she had been crying.

"I take it you've come for your belongings," she snapped, her icy tone cutting into his already-scarred heart.

"Franziska... Look at me..." He was now leaning heavily on the railing, his pained gray eyes pleading for her to hear him out, to believe him.

Franziska's bottom lip curled in, a sign that her fierce exterior was cracking. No... he didn't look like he'd been making out with that woman... He looked like he was hurt. It was a mark of her love for him that she didn't send him away, that she just stood there and waited for his explanation, because she wanted it to be good... She wanted it to be believable and the truth and... to know that he hadn't betrayed her.

"It's her..." he said, now panting slightly with his fatigue and the anxiety and stress this was causing him. "Amelinda Isold... Herr Astor's secretary... She worked for your father... She was the one who... filmed all of that... She has the tapes... And what you saw was another attempt to sabotage me... Please... Y-you have to believe me... I want nothing to do with her, a-and the only reason I didn't go after you earlier was... she's... h-holding those tapes over my head to... to get me to... do what she wants..."

To no one else would he admit these things, but to Franziska he couldn't hold them back. He was on the verge of losing her, and he loved her, two very good reasons to tell all.

And she was stunned. Franziska stared at him, the hand wielding her whip now hanging at her side, the object forgotten. "Frau Isold... But she's just another dim-witted secretary that only got her job because of her looks..."

"No..." he assured her. "...She's pure evil... She's mastered the art of manipulation... The cheerfulness and ditsy behavior... it's all an act... She's vile... cruel... and controlling... Please... I'm telling the truth... I would never... betray you, Franziska... You... you know that... d-don't you...?"

She stood there staring at him for a long time, a fierce battle going on between her heart and mind. Finally, her trust in him won over, and she rushed to him. She threw her arms around him and let those tears fall once more, but this time out of an overwhelming sense of relief. "Miles... I... believe you... I'm so sorry... I... I should have trusted you..."

Miles said nothing, but breathed a heavy sigh of relief, so much tension having lifted from his shoulders at that moment. He put one arm around her in the embrace, not wanting to have to put his weight on her, just keeping it on the railing for now. "...thank you, Franziska..." he whispered, closing his eyes. "I'm... I'm sorry."

"No... No, don't apologize," Franziska whispered, pulling out of the embrace and taking a firm hold of his arm. "Come inside. You're hurt..." The concern had replaced all the hatred that had been so prominent in her eyes when she'd first come to the door. He was glad to see it, and nodded, following her lead back into the house, eager for the chance to lie down and rest for a while, to be in her arms once again after the worst reminder of his past he'd endured so far...

oooooooooooooooooo

"You will be on your absolute best behavior, you will be perfectly polite, and you will not speak unless spoken to. Do you understand me, boy?"

"...Yes, Master..." Miles was almost grateful for being in public... That meant that he could drop that title while around other people... It was only the tiniest relief, but here, he was Manfred's student, not his... toy...

The sixteen-year-old walked just a step behind his mentor through the halls of the district prosecution office building. He was accompanying Manfred into work under the pretense of getting some practical knowledge of this line of work by observing him, but Miles was no naive child... He knew he was here because Franziska wasn't at home and Manfred was convinced that he would go out and do something he wasn't supposed to if he didn't have the nine-year-old girl to watch out for. So, as if he was some kind of trouble-making child that needed constant supervision, he had to be brought into work.

"Guten Morgan, Herr von Karma," chimed the cheery voice of a young woman with curly blond hair, standing up from a desk in the office just beside Manfred's, a large file on her arm. "I have all of the copies you asked for right here."

"Thank you," Manfred replied with a curt nod, taking the folder from her. "Frau Isold, this is my student, Miles Edgeworth. He is accompanying me today for instructive purposes."

The secretary's eyes drifted down to the handsome face of the teen at her boss's shoulder. "Oh, well hello there, Miles," she said with a bright smile, as if speaking to someone much younger. Miles had the instant urge to glare at her and demand she refer to him as 'Herr Edgeworth', but he refrained from doing so while Manfred was around.

"...Guten Morgan, Frau Isold..." he murmured, his voice rather quiet, as if he was shy.

Amelinda giggled and placed a tiny kiss on his cheek. "You're a cutie!" she stated before walking past the two men and down the hall, heading for the copier room.

Miles watched her go, reaching up to wipe the kiss away. He was horrified to feel a slight bit of heat, indicating that he was blushing. He could just feel the glare drilling right into him, and he didn't look up to confirm Manfred's expression.

"Come," the older man ordered sharply, taking hold of Miles' arm and leading him to the next door down the hallway, unlocking it and walking inside. Miles stood near the door as it swung closed of its own accord, just watching Manfred walk to his desk and set down the file he was carrying before beginning to unpack what he needed from his briefcase. Everything seemed to have its own precise location on the desk or elsewhere in the office, and when he'd finished unpacking, it actually looked as if all the new objects belonged permanently in the room, not like portable additions haphazardly placed wherever there was space in the rush to get started with a busy day.

When this procedure was finished, Manfred turned his attention briefly to Miles. "Sit," he ordered, pointing to the expensive-looking couch set against the wall on the visitor's side of his desk. Miles always felt a rage build up within him when he was spoken to this way, like a misbehaving dog, but he had to take it and just... do what he was told. Slowly and without a word, Miles moved to take a seat on the couch, finding that it was rather comfortable. "You will stay there until I tell you otherwise," came the rest of Manfred's instructions before his attention was diverted to his work.

And so, Miles found himself just... sitting there while Manfred read and filled out papers. It was excruciatingly boring, and he had no idea how this could be passed off as practical knowledge of the job. Perhaps if he could see what was on those papers it would be more beneficial, but that wasn't the case. He couldn't help it: he began to doze off against the arm of the couch, slumped in an awkward position. However, he hadn't been sleeping well at all for... well, a while now, so it wasn't that difficult for him to fall asleep even if he wasn't all that comfortable.

"Ohhhh... Poor thing. He was probably up all night being all excited about getting to go to work with you, huh?"

Miles gasped, sitting up straight and hurriedly wiping the sleep from his eyes, horrified at being caught sleeping and annoyed that the first thing he'd heard upon waking was that annoyingly-chipper voice.

"Anyway, Herr Astor wants to see you, Mein Herr. He says it's concerning yesterday's investigation."

Manfred simply nodded and stood. "Very well... Would you mind remaining in here while I am absent, Meine Frau, and ensure that he does not leave his place?"

"Oh, not at all! Don't worry about a thing!" She gave him a little wave and a smile as he walked out of the office. Miles found himself wondering how she didn't drive Manfred insane with her sunshine and rainbows personality.

When the door closed, Amelinda turned to Miles and smiled brightly. "So, why aren't you in school today, Miles?" she asked, making light conversation with him. "Are you guys out on break?"

"...I don't attend school," Miles replied, letting some of that annoyance seep into his voice now that the older man was not present. "Herr von Karma is educating me privately at home. I will be attending law school next year." There! That would show her he wasn't some ignorant child! He would be starting law school at the age of seventeen!

"Oh, that's really good!" she exclaimed, and his heart sank at the tone she was still using with him. "You must be reeeally smart, huh?"

Finally, he looked over at her with a glare. "Frau Isold, I would be much appreciative if you could speak to me with some measure of respect. I'm not a child."

She gasped, being over-dramatic about this. "Ach! I'm SO SORRY, Mein Herr. I meant NO disrespect!" She even bowed to him, and this simply made him sigh and look away angrily.

"And so you mock me... Whatever..." He was beyond irritated, and at this point he wasn't sure whom he'd rather be in the office with: his abusive mentor who was just ignoring him, or this bubbly woman that thought she was watching a five-year-old.

"Oh, Miles, don't be like that," she muttered, walking over to stand before him, bending at the waist to move a strand of his bangs from his face. "I'm just having fun with you. I guess you take after Herr von Karma with your lack of a sense of humor, hm?"

"I simply don't take kindly to being demeaned," he retorted, pulling away from her as best he could while sort of being cornered against the couch. "Nor do I care for your lack of regard for others' personal space."

She just chuckled softly, and as if he hadn't just made it clear that she was too close, she sat down right next to him. "You sound just like him, but it just doesn't fit coming from someone so adorable," she cooed, pinching his cheek slightly and making him flinch away.

But when he turned his head away from her, it caused that stupid leather collar around his neck to peek over the collar of his dress shirt slightly, and she was close enough to notice it.

"Ooo, what's this?" she asked, taking a hold of the item between her thumb and forefinger. "An odd thing to wear around."

He couldn't move away from her any further, so he had to reach up and push her hand away. "I'm a goth," he lied off the top of his head. "I don't take it off ever. Now could I have a little breathing room, please?"

Amelinda laughed and sighed at the same time, finally moving away from him to stand up. "Always spitting fire, aren't you, Schatzi? How does Herr von Karma deal with you?"

"...I was beginning to wonder the same thing about you..." Miles mumbled under his breath, even more annoyed with that cutesy little name she'd just used than when she referred to him by first name.

He wasn't sure if she'd heard him or not, but with her lack of a response, he just assumed she hadn't. She walked over to lean against the desk, flicking her nails and singing absent-mindedly to herself while looking around the office. Now things felt a little awkward, but Miles was glad to have his personal bubble all to himself again, and it wasn't too much longer before the door opened and Manfred reappeared.

"Danke, Frau Isold," he said, walking past her to place a new manila folder upon his desk. "Did he behave himself?"

"Oh, he wasn't too bad," she commented, waving her hand a bit as if to indicate it was no big deal. "But I can tell he's going to grow up to be just like you, once he gets through his 'goth phase', of course." She gave them both a cheerful smile and a wave. "All right, just let me know if you need anything, as usual!" With that, she left the room, blond curls bouncing as she walked with that ever-present spring in her step.

The closing of the heavy office door sounded like the slam of a prison cell to Miles, and he could feel the anger emanating from the German prosecutor.

"And what, pray tell, did she mean by that, Miles Edgeworth?" As he spoke, the older man had stepped away from his desk and up to where Miles sat, towering over him and forcing him to look up by taking a hold of his hair and drawing his head back, as he often did.

The fear was visible in his eyes. Stupid woman! She couldn't have just said that everything was fine and left it alone, could she? She just had to make it sound like he'd caused her a bunch of trouble, when SHE had been the one who needed some telling off! "N-nothing, Master... She just... she was trying to start ridiculous conversations with me as if I was a young child... and she kept getting much too close. It... was irritating... I... I tried to be decent about it..."

The grip on his hair was released, but only so that the same hand could be used to slap him hard across the face, making him gasp and shrink back against the couch cushions.

"I cannot imagine what has made you think that you deserve the respect of adults, Miles Edgeworth, but get it out of your head this instant!" Manfred snapped. "To myself and to everyone else here, you ARE a child and you have earned no respect around here. Thus, you do not deserve any and will not receive it. Do you understand me?"

Miles bowed his head, staring at his knees. "...Yes, Master... I understand..."

He felt that rough hand grip the back of the leather collar around his neck and tug him up and forward. "Come," Manfred ordered, and the teen complied, following him over to the desk and around it. "Kneel," was his next instruction, and slowly, Miles obeyed, descending to his knees by the office chair. Manfred took a seat, just watching the boy tremble with fear and anticipation before him.

"Now... Frau Isold made one more comment that I would like an explanation for," he stated, hands folded in his lap. "What exactly did she mean by the words 'goth phase'?"

Had the situation not been so grave, Miles might've snickered at hearing Manfred say this, for it didn't suit his always-formal attitude to have just used such slang, even when repeating it from someone else. However, Miles also dreaded having to answer this question, simply because he would have to acknowledge the mark of his own enslavement.

"...As I... said before, she was... much too close..." he murmured, his head still bowed. "...She noticed my... m-my collar... a-and asked why I was... wearing it... I... I didn't know what else to say, so... I just told her that... I was a goth and wore it all the time..." He slowly looked up, and upon seeing the frown on the older man's face, he knew he needed to elaborate a little more. "Goth is... slang used for... people who dress in Gothic-style clothing, leather, chains, and... things like that... and some of them... wear collars around..." No, he'd not spent much time at all around other teenagers since arriving here in Germany, but he remembered some of the high school aged kids from back when he'd lived in Los Angeles as a child.

Manfred seemed to consider this, and to Miles' immense relief, he appeared to accept it. "Very well," he said, giving a nod, and Miles took this as a reward, considering he never got any definite ones for good behavior. Manfred obviously didn't have a problem with him lying to cover up what was going on between them in public. However, Miles didn't much care for the next order he received.

"Lie down." The older man was indicating the space beneath his desk. From the front, one could not see beneath the desk thanks to the way it was built, so the space where one would push their chair under was basically a cubbyhole and not an open space. Still, even if he couldn't be seen, Miles didn't like this, and there was a brief flash of disdain on his face, which he received another forceful slap for. "Don't look at me that way, boy!"

"I-I'm sorry, Master..." he murmured, slowly crawling beneath the desk with a deep feeling of humiliation. Miles lay down against the backboard and curled up a bit, like a faithful dog. The desk was big enough for him to not be in the way under here, but not quite big enough for him to stretch out at all. He hoped he wouldn't have to stay under here for long... He never did well in small, dark spaces...

Unfortunately, this was where he spent the rest of the day, or at least the rest of the time Manfred spent at the office. Once more, he was dozing when he heard the secretary's voice, waking him abruptly.

"Are you leaving for the day, Mein Herr?"

"Yes," he heard Manfred reply, and when he looked up, he noticed that the older man was indeed standing up, packing his possessions away from the sound of it. Miles, however, didn't move. For one, he'd received no order, and two, he had no desire to be seen climbing out from under the older man's desk. "I have an investigation to complete."

"Okay!" she chimed. "Good luck!"

"Hmph... I don't need luck," Manfred responded haughtily, having moved away from the desk and toward the door. "Miles, come."

Miles felt his heart skip a beat at hearing this order. Wasn't... that woman still in the room? He didn't move, but that meant he had the order barked at him instead.

"I told you to come, boy!"

Swallowing hard, Miles pushed himself up on his hands and knees and crawled out from under the desk, so stiff he had to grab onto the edge of it to pull himself into a standing position.

"Awww... Did something scare you, Schatzi?" Amelinda asked sympathetically. Miles was very aware of the warning look from his mentor, and he felt cornered. Either way he answered this, it would be a massive blow to his pride: Either he was hiding under the desk like some pathetic, frightened child, or... well... she would imply whatever she wanted if he said 'no'.

"...Yes..." he finally responded, bowing his head as he walked up to stand beside Manfred, refusing to look at them. He felt his stomach knot up when he heard a low, amused laugh from the older man, a laugh Miles dreaded to hear because it meant that he was being satisfied with the level of power and control he had.

"Awww..." the secretary cooed again, placing another little kiss on his cheek. "Well, don't worry. Everyone is afraid of Herr von Karma, so there won't be any reason to be scared while you're at the crime scene. Isn't that right, Herr von Karma?"

"...That will do, Frau Isold," Manfred replied, looking a little agitated. "Auf Wiedersehen."

"Auf Wiedersehen!" she called after them with a wave as Miles was led by the arm out of Manfred's office and down the hall. He felt so embarrassed... but he supposed he would have to get used to it... Miles knew he was in the process of being broken, having his self-esteem diminished and obliterated, having his fighting spirit stomped out of him. He wasn't clueless... He just wished he knew how to stop it from happening, because he was trapped...