Quicksand

(Hello again! The next chapter will probably be the last one, so hope you guys have enjoyed this!)

Chapter 14: Unchained

"What are you waiting for…? Do it….!"

His fingers began to tighten on the trigger of the gun, longing to squeeze it yet desperate to survive. A woman screamed and cried in the background, but he could not hear her. He knew he could not disobey… The pull was too strong, and besides… wouldn't it be better this way? His honor and reputation had been destroyed… He had to constantly live with the memories, and now… this spirit would forever torment him.

…Please… Leave me alone… Why won't you leave me alone?

"I will never leave you alone. You belong to me! Now do as I say and pull the trigger!"

And as for Franziska… she didn't deserve to have to deal with his baggage and the disgrace of being associated with someone like him, someone who was now known to the world as a filthy, pathetic-

"Miles… My son… Please come to your senses…"

…What? Now, not only was he hearing Manfred's voice, but… but that had been…

"Miles! Sweetheart… this is your mother… You remember me, don't you…? Listen to your father… There is no reason for this…."

His… mother…? What was going on here? Was he so delusional and desperate that his mind was bringing to him the voices of his parents to save his life? Or… were they actually there…?

"Hmph… Useless pleading from souls he would barely remember. What is taking you so long, boy! Do you need my help for even something so simple as this!"Time stood still, and yet these voices whirled around in the darkness of his mind, calling to him, shouting, demanding, encouraging… He was going mad, and yet it was all so crystal clear. He could hear his parents… people who had actually loved and cared for him. He could hear his master, giving him orders, exerting his overwhelming power.

Stop it! L-leave me alone! Stop it!

"Son… put the gun down… Don't listen to him. You can make your own decision… You can save yourself and Franziska…"

"Miles… Your father and I love you so very much… Live on…. You have your whole life ahead of you… Don't let them destroy you, Miles… Don't…"

Could he really do this…? Could he pull the trigger? Could he break the hold that man had over him and turn the gun on their attackers? Did he have the strength to listen to any of them?

"I will never leave you alone…"BANG!

"You can do this, Son!"

"You will always belong to me…"

"Live…. Live on…"

"Worthless waste of life…."

"You are strong enough!"

"You deserve to die, pathetic whore…."

"You have so much to live for!"

"Do as I say, my pet…"

BANG!

A sharp scream, and a wail of misery and fear. Then an angry shout.

"Stupid punk! How dare you!"

Miles Edgeworth opened his eyes, a new light shining within them, a burning fury. The pistol was still in his hand, but the muzzle no longer rested between his lips. It was aimed in the direction of the Chief Prosecutor, who had barely dodged a particularly well-aimed shot, considering the shooter's eyes had been shut tightly.

Franziska looked up from where she had been hiding her face in her arms, now looking quite stunned. She had been so certain he'd killed himself, but there he stood… having turned the gun around at the last second.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing, Edgeworth!"

"…Get on the ground, Astor…" His voice was quiet, yet extremely dangerous. He was no longer shaking, and the pull upon him was weakening. He was fighting it with everything he had, and finally, his struggles were not going to be ignored.

"You think you can threaten me!" The older man looked shocked and livid. This had been full-proof! According to Amelinda, Miles had always been totally unable to defy von Karma, even as a ghost! What had gone wrong!

"I said get on the ground!" Miles snarled, waving the gun. No one had ever seen him like this before. No one had ever imagined he would be capable of such, including himself, but he had had enough.

"Schatzi, you shouldn't be disobeying Herr von Karma like this…" Amelinda cooed, coming up behind him without fear of the weapon they had given him. She reached up to grip his shoulders, hoping to restrain him with these little mind games and a small amount of physical force.

But, what she didn't count on was just how angry Miles had become. Without warning, he lashed back at the blond, sending her sprawling several feet away. "Back off, you sadistic bitch!" he snapped, eyes blazing as he turned on her.

Amelinda stared up at him with wide blue eyes, obviously taken completely off-guard by his sudden willpower. "Schatzi, what's gotten into you? Why would you hit a ~"

"Don't you DARE say it!" the enraged prosecutor snapped. "How you have the gall to refer to yourself as a 'lady' is beyond me! You are nothing but a conniving scank! You're a vulture, happy to prey upon what was left of me, but too weak and cowardly to make a kill for yourself! The games are over, Isold! And don't you EVER address me with that degrading pet name again!"

They had pushed and pushed, and finally, the dam had split wide open. Since age nine his life had been filled with tragedy, abuse, degradation, and agony, and only now did the hurt morph into anger, allowing him to save his own life.

"Drop the gun, Edgeworth."

The frightened gasp from Franziska was what caused Miles to turn back around, his chest tightening severely when he saw that Astor had produced a knife, and that weapon was now held at the throat of the female prosecutor. He bore his teeth, furious and terrified.

"Coward," he growled. "Get away from her! I won't miss this time!"

"I told you once already," Ewald responded, gripping Franziska's hair and pulling her head back, getting a soft cry of fear and pain out of her. "It's either you, or her. Keep pointing that gun in my direction, and I'll choose for you!"

What was he to do…? He wanted to just pull the trigger and get rid of that son of a bitch, but… it wasn't so easy to just… take a life like that. He'd never done it before, couldn't imagine doing it, and what if he missed the shot? Franziska would die if his aim wasn't dead on, and even if he got the shot, that knife could slip and… and he'd lose her anyway…

Yet, what other choice did he have? This seemed to be his only chance, to kill this man and probably go to prison for life. That was the only way they would both make it out of this alive… So then, was it worth it? Would it not be easier to just turn this weapon on himself, save her and not have to face any more time as a prisoner? Then, there was the possibility that they were lying to him, that they would kill Franziska as well once he was gone, just to keep them both quie~

He was suddenly dizzy, and his vision clouded over. His center of balance shifted, and when the spinning had stopped, he was on his knees on the floor, reeling with the pain from a blunt object and hitting the desk on his way down.

"You should learn to pay closer attention to your surroundings, Schatzi," came Amelinda's voice through the haze. The secretary was standing over him, holding a heavy lamp in her hands, the base of which she had just used to strike him from behind with all of her might. She put the item down, and then reached for the gun, taking it right out of his hands before he was awake enough to do anything about it.

"I am rather disappointed that everything did not go as planned," she mused, lifting her right leg and pressing her high heeled shoe into his chest, pushing the dazed prosecutor onto his back before her. She kept that sharp heel planted firmly upon his chest and readied the gun in her hand, aiming directly between his eyes. "However, where there is a will, there is a way, and while we would have preferred you to do this yourself, the end does justify the means. Goodnight, Schatzi… I really will miss you…"

His dark gray eyes were glazed over as he stared up at her, and through the fog, he could just barely make out what would be his end. The image above him swam, and over him stood – not the middle-aged woman with her mane of blond curls – but the person he truly feared, the man that had started all of this. That man would be the true cause of his death, the one behind it all.

It was him… It had always been him… And as Miles braced himself for death, he knew it would always be him…

But what came next was not the searing pain of a bullet, the loud blast, or the impending darkness.

What came next was a burst of muffled, jumbled noise.

The person standing over him was gone. People were shouting… men and women… He was trying so hard to register everything, to clear away this bubble that seemed to be surrounding his head, drowning out the noise and blurring the scene. On top of it all, his head was pounding, making him want to just close his eyes and will all the chaos away.

And then there was someone over him again, much closer this time, and he could vaguely hear a man's voice speaking to him.

"Herr Edgeworth. Künnen Sie mich hören? Sagen etwas, bitte."

Miles took in a sharp breath, closing and reopening his eyes in an attempt to focus his mind and senses. With a great deal of effort, he sat up, much to the surprise of the police officer crouching over him. "Herr Edgeworth?"

"…Franziska… Is she all right…?" This was the first thing he wanted to know. Before this, he didn't care what was going on, how many people were here, if Amelinda and Ewald were being taken into custody. He just wanted to know that his lover was alive and unharmed.

The officer hesitated, then opened his mouth as if to say something, but an angry yell cut him off, overpowering the rest of the noise in the room.

"I said let me through! I am Franziska von Karma, damn it!"

Before he knew it, the woman he'd been so concerned for was right there with him, falling to the floor and wrapping her arms around him. She was still in nothing but her undergarments and was sobbing, but she appeared to have received no further harm. Feeling a sense of relief, Miles slowly wrapped his arms around her waist, both holding her and attempting to shield her from the eyes of everyone else in the room.

"Miles! Oh mein Gott! I thought… I thought I would…"

"…It's all right…." He was still so overwhelmed by everything, and it wasn't all sinking in yet. All he knew right now was that she was right here with him, alive and safe. "We're both okay…"

"Herr Edgeworth. Frau von Karma, are either of you hurt?"

Miles looked up to see another officer standing a couple of feet away, watching the two of them huddled there on the floor. Somehow, Miles felt the tug of his pride, and though he was still dizzy and stiff, he slowly began to stand up, letting Franziska stay where she was.

"Frau von Karma is a bit bruised up… and I… may have a mild concussion…" he replied, trying to look as composed as possible while the room swayed around him. "Other than that… I believe we are all right..."

The officer watched him closely, able to tell that he was unsteady and shaken, even though the man was doing all he could to put up a strong front. "Very well. I'll have one of our squad cars take you two up to the hospital to ensure you are both uninjured. We are taking Herr Astor and Frau Isold into custody for the scene we walked in on, but can you tell us what happened here?"

Miles bit down lightly on his bottom lip, not even sure where to begin or if he could tell the story. He felt so weary and shaken up. He just wanted to go home and rest, but he was certain they wouldn't be allowed to for a while.

"There is no need…"

Miles turned to look back, seeing that Franziska was now standing up. She had her arms crossed over her chest to try and conceal herself, while still standing a bit behind Miles to further block her nearly-exposed form. "If you could… retrieve my possessions from beside the couch, I will give you all the evidence you need…" She too was trying to act calm, but just like her lover, she was having trouble doing so.

The officer gave her a questioning look, then turned to go find her belongings. He returned shortly, carrying a pile containing her dress, broach, leggings, gloves, and boots, and Miles took them so that Franziska could keep herself somewhat concealed. He turned to her, the question written on his face.

What did she have? What evidence had their captors missed that would tell this story for them?

Franziska pulled her dress from the pile and reached into a fairly unnoticeable pocket in the front of the garment, producing a pen. However, when Miles looked a second time, he noticed something…. odd about it.

"This is all you will need," Franziska stated, reaching past Miles to hand the item over to the officer. "It should have recorded the entire encounter, from the moment I walked into this office."

The male prosecutor's eyes widened a bit. She'd recorded it? Had she come here knowing that something would go horribly wrong? Was everything that had just happened really preserved in that pen-shaped device, saving them from the trouble of trying to prove their case?

He felt a tiny smile appear on his lips, a look of pride directed at his lover. She had really come through for the both of them this time, her sharp mind able to perceive what dangers could have possibly awaited her here. She had come prepared to prove whatever could have happened while she stood in this office, even if it had simply been a spoken admission from Ewald that he knew what Amelinda was doing, believing only Franziska would hear him.

He stood in place as Franziska crouched down once more in order to finally put her clothes back on, regaining the security of being properly covered in front of all these people, many of whom had answered to her when she'd worked here. She stood again, and placed a hand on Miles arm, gripping his sleeve with a gloved hand. She didn't want to be separated from him again, and he felt the exact same way. They had almost been split up for good today; they both felt fortunate to just be standing here together, able to see the other's face, feel the other's presence again.

The next two hours were nothing but a whirlwind of noise and color. Miles remembered being led to a squad car, remembered waiting at the hospital, remembered a man in a white coat telling him to take it easy for a few days, and then he was walking with Franziska into the von Karma manor. He reached back to shut the front door behind them, finally closing out the chaotic world around them. Suddenly, it was quiet, and everything slowed down.

This was when it all began to catch up with him. He slowly made his way to the living room, falling into one of the large, expensive armchairs and exhaling a deep breath. He heard footsteps near him, and the hand upon his arm told him that Franziska had followed.

"…Miles….?" he heard her mutter, her voice filled with worry. It was as if she knew he was crashing even before he did.

The sob that surfaced startled him, and he reached up to instinctively rub his eyes, though no tears had manifested yet. Still, his eyes and throat burned, warning him that the flood gates were straining, that they could not hold back the flow.

Today had almost been the end for him. Twice he had stood on the edge, stared death in the face, and that face was so hauntingly familiar. He'd held a gun, placed the muzzle in his mouth, pointed it at other human beings, fired it. He'd felt the old chains and broken free of them, defied both Manfred von Karma himself and that vile woman trying to finish what he'd started. He'd heard the voice that could tell him to do anything, create unimaginable fear within him, and he'd heard the voices of his parents, voices he'd not heard in so many long years.

And before it all, he'd stood in the cemetery, pleading for release. Had his request been granted, or had he just taken what he wanted for himself?

He could now feel the hot tears sliding down his cheeks, and a light weight registered upon his thighs and against his shoulders. He looked up to see that Franziska had sat down on his lap and was now embracing him, offering comfort and someone to soak with tears. He leaned in to accept her offer, taking in deep breaths as he tried to calm down.

"It's all over, Miles…" she whispered in his ear, using the most soothing tone she could muster. "They will both be in prison for a very long time."

"….They weren't the ones behind all of this…" he whispered back, wrapping his arms around her waist in order to hold her more securely. "How am I to know that… he won't haunt me for the rest of my life?"

There was a long moment of silence, and then he felt Franziska shift slightly in his lap. She moved her hands up to the back of his neck, and the slight jingling of metal pieces followed. Next, the feeling of cool air against his neck, and only then did he realize he'd still been wearing that collar.

Even after three years, it had felt so natural, he'd barely noticed it.

"There," she stated, as if her actions had solved everything. "That's much better."

He looked up, trying to blink away the tears blurring his vision. "Franziska… that doesn't…"

"Miles, if I am not mistaken, my…. Father was right there with you today," she said, moving her hand up to wipe away some of that moisture, having removed her gloves upon arriving home. "But you didn't listen to him or do what he wanted you to do. You turned the pistol around and fired at Ewald, and you turned on Amelinda. You refused to comply with any of their wishes."

He stared at her, trying to understand where she was going with this. Yes… Yes, he had done all of that, but what did it matter?

"You showed them all how strong you are today," the German woman continued. "And most importantly, you showed him that he cannot control you anymore, that you have the will to do as you please, not as he tells you." She dropped the leather dog collar to the floor, unwilling to hold it any longer; it disgusted her. "I don't really know anything about spirits… I still barely believe any of it… but I think that means his ties to you were weakened or… or maybe even broken."

He listened to her with undivided attention, her words starting to form a full picture in his mind. It… really did make so much sense, and now he desperately wanted her to be correct. Had Manfred really been able to do those things from beyond the grave because Miles had never really moved on, never really broken those old bonds? Had those ties been so strong that – coupled together with the vengeful nature of the spirit – it had created a link between the two of them beyond realms? And if that was all true, did what he'd done a couple of hours ago break those ties, cut those strings and free him?

"….My parents spoke to me, too…" After a long span of silent deliberation, Miles decided to confide this in her, peering up into those softened blue-gray eyes. "First my father, and then… my mother… They told me not to do it, that I had… so much to live for… not to listen to him…"

Franziska watched him closely, sort of wondering if he hadn't been imagining that part. Yet, she had seen the ending of that horrible video recording, and she could not deny the possibility that his parents really had been able to reach him in his time of dire need. Besides, even if he had imagined it, would it not make him feel more secure knowing his parents had been there for him, were watching over him?

She smiled. "Well, I am certainly glad you still listen to your parents, Miles Edgeworth," she stated, leaning forward to kiss his forehead. When she did this, he couldn't help but laugh a little, closing his eyes and leaning into her touch.

"Yes… I as well…" he murmured, deciding it was time to just stop dwelling on all of this and rest. Of course, he'd be thinking about it for a long time, probably dreaming about it, too. Still, it was a comfort to know they were in the clean-up and recovery stage of this catastrophe. The true end was in sight.