You should all read my blog, by the way, irrelevant as it is: ht tp: / soyourboyfriendisanaspie . tumblr . com/ Anyway, on with the show!

Iris

(For SweetieLove)

I have a confession to make...

Pearl Fey came to visit me. Just Pearl. She told me that I wasn't to tell anyone she was here, but that she had wanted to see me specially. Her sister. Neither of us quite got out heads around it properly, I don't think, but that's who I am, Pearl Fey's older sister. Pearl's only sister. So when she spilled all of her worries onto me that day, let me see her tears, about her mother, about her cousin...about Mr Phoenix Wright...I let her cry, and I comforted her, and I promised that I'd be there when she needed me.

When Phoenix - not Feenie, not now - when he visited me, he was so gentle, so nice...and so different. We spoke, spoke about many things, about our past, about our present, and about Dahlia. And as he left, he told me, "It's about time you started looking out for yourself, Iris."

What is it, to 'look out for yourself'? Ever since I was young, I was taking care of others. Please don't misunderstand, I wanted to. Oh Dahlia, my sweet Dahlia. I know what she became, I know what she did, but I'm also the only one who knows what she was. We were too young, too little to understand what was happening. I still vaguely remember the shouting, my mother crying, it's not my fault! It's hers, it's Misty, it's all her fault, please, don't go, don't go, stay with me, and the cruel calmness of my father's voice as he took us both by the hand and gave her a curt goodbye to his wife as he led us to the car. Dahlia cried all the way, hours and hours it seemed, but I kept her close to me, held her tight, promised I would care for her forever.

We lived with my father for a few years, before Rhea came along, with her daughter. I don't blame them, not Rhea nor Valerie, for what happened to me. I don't even particularly blame my father. The Fey clan was looking for acolytes, he told me, his little daughter, and a good, obedient, quiet little girl like me would be perfect. He didn't want three daughters, is the truth of it, and he had always prized his little flame, with spirit to match her hair, to her drab, dark, boring twin. Dahlia would have had me believe years later that she was the one who made my father give me up, but I know different. She kicked and screamed, destroyed things, wouldn't calm down until I held her, told her I wouldn't leave her. My poor, pathetic sister, she never was settled in this life, and the demon of her troubled mind took her over. But not then. Not that night. That night, she sobbed in my arms until she fell asleep, feeding off my promises to always be there. And then I left her.

Sister Bikini was like a mother to me. She is my mother, in all but blood. She raised me and cared for me, so I cared for her. I fell into a life of servitude, to care for my new family, and eventually Bikini let her little pet work away. It helped her, her and her back, when I did most of the work, and so I did, and eventually she stopped protesting. When my sister was fourteen, she asked for my help in the infamous jewel heist, and I told her I would help her. As the day approached, however, I got more and more terrified, eventually confessing to Bikini what we - my sister, her step-sister, myself and poor Mr Fawles - intended to do. And she told me not to do it, explaining her sorrow that my sweet sister had turned to such wrong-doing, and that she wished I would not do the same. So I didn't go.

You know what happened next on the bridge. Dahlia flew into a rage at me weeks later when she returned from her supposed watery grave, slapping and pinching and yelling until Valerie pulled her off. I liked Valerie, despite everything. She held my twin tight as she told me about Terry Fawles' trial, and how she'd found Dahlia soon afterwards, minus the diamond. I could sense the unease in her, but Valerie was determined she would stick to this path, for her little sister's sake, something which I well understood. "I'm sorry," I told her. I told them both. Valerie nodded at me and started to take Dahlia away. Dahlia glared at me, and spat in my direction, before allowing herself to be led off.

Poor Valerie. Five years passed in which I barely heard from my sister or my father's step-daughter. Poor, misguided Valerie, trying to do her best, trying to finally do right. And poor Mr Fawles, the innocent, besotted simpleton. It was the first scheme of Dahlia's that I didn't really know about, and they both died, and she got away. I know, I knew then, my sister was evil. Pure evil had taken over what she was. But what could I do? My sister. I'd promised to care for her. She started dating Doug Swallow, and for a while she went almost back to normal, almost happy. And then she did that stupid thing. Mr Diego Armando was poisoned, and Phoenix Wright came into Dahlia's life. Into my life.

I persuaded her to let me try. I didn't want more blood on my precious sister's hands. And then, of course, I fell for him. I'm so proud of him now; he's become everything he wanted to be. But he isn't Feenie anymore. She changed him, I know. I changed him. And so did our cousin, Mia Fey. When she gave him the tools to find and 'save' Miles Edgeworth, when she let him into her life and world of law, he changed from my airheaded theatre-studying Feenie into Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney. But then, then he was simply Feenie, and I loved him as much as he loved me - as much as he loved 'Dollie'. Six glorious months, and I stopped trying to get the necklace back, because it meant little to me now. I just wanted to keep him safe, to keep him with me. And then Dahlia ruined it all, killing the boy she loved as she failed to kill the one I did and finally being captured and taken away and executed five years later. That hurt. That hurt so much. Losing Feenie stung, but losing my sister was like losing myself. My poor Dahlia, so strong and smart, twisted by what life had given to her. And my dear, dear Feenie. When we met again, when he visited me, I told him how I had loved him, and he smiled at me, a stranger and a previous lover all in one, and he thanked me, and we parted as friends.

Devoid of my sister, devoid of my lover, I threw myself into my work. And then they contacted me, my Aunt Misty and Diego Armando - Godot - and told me of the threat to my cousin, Maya. I hadn't seen Maya since she was a toddler, but I knew at once I had to protect her. Protect her from my mother as I'd once protected Dahlia, and protect her from my sister like I'd tried to protect Phoenix Wright. And of course, Aunt Misty was killed, Dahlia was beaten, and I ended up here.

I miss her. Dahlia. I miss her when she was small, when she needed me. And now Pearl comes to me, looking for the sister she never knew she had. I'm sorry, Phoenix, but I can't just look out for myself, not even for a moment. It's not who I am.

...I'll always need someone to care for.

Reviews!