Chapter 2 – Check My Pulse

Phoenix Wright has never been to the prosecutor's house, not since they were children. However, he knows where he lives. He pedals into the driveway and immediately rushes to the front patio, dropping his bike by the front lawn. He hammers on the door, questioning whether to toggle the handle. He has known Edgeworth long enough to know that it had to be something serious for him to reach out to anyone, Wright especially because of his pride. Deciding that if he had reached out at this hour of the night, it was urgent enough that Wright might have to go in and act.

Just as he reaches out to the knob, Edgeworth appears in front of him, swinging the door towards him. He looks tired to say the least, was dressed in what Wright had last seen him in, minus the vest and shoes.

"Are you just going to stand there all night?" he says, and Wright lets him lead the way to the kitchen.

Phoenix notices that all the lights are on as he walks into the sparsely decorated but elegant kitchen. Edgeworth sits at the small table there, hot cup of tea in his hands as he slouches across from an empty chair. Phoenix doesn't make a move to sit, instead opting to ask, "What happened that you called me so late?"

Edgeworth shifts uncomfortably at that, adverting his gaze. The defense attorney doesn't miss how he grimaces a bit when he moves. "It's nothing pressing," he says, trying to sound convincing. "I just…" he trails off, daintily gulping tea. "I don't sleep well at night."

Scooting into the chair, Phoenix eyes the other man from across the table. "Did you have a nightmare?"

Miles scoffs, shooting him a glare. "Don't be daft. I didn't call you because I had a bad dream."

"Then why did you call me?"

He doesn't respond, simply sipping his tea again.

Phoenix sighs. "There had to have been a reason. I won't laugh if it is because you had a bad dream."

Edgeworth chances a look into Wright's eyes. "I don't know why I called you." He huffs. "I don't need your pity."

Phoenix changes his approach. "Then tell me what's bothering you, and I'll stop pitying you and give you the help that you clearly need."

Edgeworth's glare sharpens. "I don't need help, I'm perfectly capable-"

"If you didn't need help then I wouldn't be here!" Phoenix barks, hands finding purchase against the table. "Hiding won't fix your problem, now tell me what's wrong, damnit!"

Edgeworth sets his tea down and stands up. "Get out of my house," he commands through gritted teeth.

"Not until I'm sure that you're okay." Wright insists, crossing his arms.

Miles sighs dramatically, rubbing his fingers down his face. He feels weak under the other attorney's careful eye, and doesn't want to tell anyone that something is wrong, himself included. He sits back down, settling for half the truth. "I do have nightmares," he says, folding his limbs on the table. "That's part of why I called you," he adds, knowing that Wright will see right through his lies.

Phoenix nods. "Okay," he starts, relieved that Miles has at least told him something. "Will it help if I stay with you while you sleep?"

"I'm not in any real danger," Edgeworth insists, regretting his whim to call Phoenix over. He had cleaned himself up in a hurry and just settled down when he heard Phoenix knock. He thought that maybe Phoenix could help him since he knew him in a way that nobody else could seem to comprehend, but he hadn't really considered what it would entail. The moment Wright had come through the door, he felt embarrassed along with something else that he couldn't quite put his finger on. He now realized that it was weakness he felt, feeling broken and weak for needing someone else to put him back together. He feels weak because this time, he can't pick himself up anymore, despite being able to do more than that in the past. He just doesn't know anymore.

"I really don't need immediate attention," Edgeworth whispers, not wanting to say that he needs or even wants Phoenix here. He hopes that Wright will get the message without him having to admit it to himself or the man seated across from him.

"I'll stay as long as you want me to, Miles." He says, tone gentle but not cloying.

Edgeworth smiles bitterly. "I don't need you to watch over me."

Phoenix laughs lightly, and the prosecutor knows that he is an open book. "I'd like to stay. If anything were to happen once I leave, I'd never forgive myself."

"So, I'm just a helpless client now, Wright?" Edgeworth prods, leaning forwards. "You're here to defend me?"

"I never said that!" Wright makes a face, taken aback. Miles simpers, their small talk reminding him of their courtroom banter.

"Well, if you're staying, would you like some tea?" Miles rises, standing tall and stretching his legs. He watches Wright nod as a flush creeps over his face, eyes near slits in faux anger. "I'll take that as a yes," he mutters to himself.

"Slimy prosecutor," Wright teases, and the other man laughs as he scoops leaves into a fresh mug and brings it to the table.

The two of them sit for a while, mostly staying silent, but taking small digs at one another, Wright's attempt to cheer him up and Edgeworth's attempt at normalcy. Phoenix's eyes draw heavy and he blinks rapidly, yawning.

"Do you need to sleep?" Edgeworth asks, now his sensible self, but the thought of sleep puts him on edge.

Phoenix shakes his head. "I'm fine, Maya just drains my energy."

"If you need rest, you can go home." He says nonchalantly.

"Honestly?" Phoenix grins. "I would rather be sure you're okay. The world needs its star prosecutor."

The words remind him of his duties, ones that he'll have to resume in the morning, which is in less than six hours, Miles checks. Self-conflict aside, just trying to get through restless sleeps and busy days is taxing enough. He sighs, anxiety setting in.

"I need a drink," he laughs, pressing his index fingers into his eyes. He feels a hand on his forearm almost immediately.

"I'll stay until you fall asleep," Phoenix offers, then adds, "For my own peace of mind, not because I think you need it."

One thought prevailed above anything else in Edgeworth's mind: "I need sleep." Pride and weakness forgotten, Miles couldn't stand another night without rest. "I'm so tired, Wright." He groans, and practically crawls up the stairs to his bedroom. The other man follows close behind, teacups left behind, forgotten.

Phoenix waits in the lavish bedroom, staring at the clothes Miles was just in that are strewn across the back of a chair in the corner of a room. His legs are crossed as he sits perched on the end of the bed, lost in thought while he waits for the latter to return from the bathroom. He knows that Miles is meticulous, so he isn't worried about him taking literally forever, but he feels wrong snooping around his room. Still worried sick with only clues from DL-6 and Miles' subtle hints to base anything on, he puts aside his morals for his friend's privacy and decides to have a look around.

The first thing that catches his eye is the haphazard way that his keys and case files seem to have been thrown on the desk. His workplace is always exceptionally tidy, which only shows how much stress Miles is under. His eyes move to the bed as he turns, seeing what was a perfectly made bed with the only wrinkles on the side where the nightstand sits, where it looks like Miles may have sprawled out briefly. He walks over and runs a hand along the wrinkles, smoothing them over if only to feel like he's helping.

The nightstand catches his eye. On it is a lamp, which matched the room's décor, a clock, which read 1:37, and a tissue box, which, upon further inspection, seemed to have a speck of blood on the top. Puzzled, Phoenix stepped forwards to reach for it, but his foot caught on a wastebasket. Looking down, he gasped, seeing the bloody tissues. Sighing, he kneels to take a closer look, hoping- no, begging- that he was wrong. Unfortunately, he isn't, and he unravels a small, metal blade. He closes his eyes momentarily before dropping the streaky tissues back in the bin. He sits back on the bed and waits for Edgeworth.

He returns quite soon and gets into bed, ruffling the bedsheets around his shoulders. He sighs, and Phoenix sees his shoulders relax.

"You good now?" he asks, making sure to keep the sadness out of his voice. He was heartbroken, but that wouldn't help Miles right now.

He nods in response, opening his mouth to say "thank you," but closes it immediately. Instead, he looks his way and grants him a small smile. He goes to say, "you can go now," but truly doesn't want him to. He's afraid of Phoenix leaving. He settles somewhere in the middle. "You came."

Phoenix smiles, stifling a sob. "Of course I did." It's the last thing Miles remembers before he passes out.

When Miles Edgeworth wakes up, he's not alone. Wright is slumped in his bedroom chair. His nose crinkles at the attorney lounging on his coat, but he's secretly glad he stayed the night, if not thrilled. He looks at the time: it's a few minutes before his alarm sounds, so he flips it off before it can wake his guest. If anything, he's sorry as he looks at the uncomfortable position Phoenix is in. He's sorry he worried him, sorry he couldn't properly thank him, sorry he disappointed him.

As quietly as he can, Edgeworth slips out of bed, but trips on something. Looking down, he sees his trash, but his glance turns into a squint as he sees a glint of metal. Gray orbs widen as he sees the razor revealed, positive that he had wrapped it up the night before. Glancing at a still sleeping Wright, he realizes the implications, and falls back onto his bed. It creaks at his weight, and he hears a grunt; Phoenix is awake. Eyes shifting between the rubbish and the occupied chair, Edgeworth pales, but says nothing.

Wright's eyes open and they're bloodshot, and Miles feels his stomach churn. He turns those tired eyes to Miles and graces him with a smile, a perfect upturn of lips that he feels he doesn't deserve, but gives him a burst of joy through his spine nonetheless.

"Morning, Miles." He says, voice raspy as he stretches. Edgeworth gives a short nod in return, not trusting his voice, and they both get ready for work.

Miles gives Phoenix a ride to the courthouse since they both need to go there anyway, loading his bike into the trunk of the Mercedes. Phoenix insists that he doesn't need to go home, and the former doesn't argue. "A cheap suit is a cheap suit," he thinks to himself, but doesn't dare say to Phoenix, who, he thinks, can at least keep his head steady on his shoulders.

The prosecutor tries to focus on his cases, but struggles to do so. It frustrates him to no end. He knows that Phoenix can see it in him from across the courtroom, and he only catches him staring once. At the very least, Edgeworth can appreciate his effort. He's reluctant to talk to Phoenix when he approaches the prosecutor after court is adjourned, but shamefully knows that he can't avoid it.

"Wright." He says in greeting. "Do you need something?"

"Just a ride," he smirks in response, tapping the place on his wrist where a watch would lie if he wasn't so broke. "Or have you forgotten our lunch date?"

Edgeworth smiles to himself. "You just can't get enough of me today, can you?" He leads Wright to the car and they escape in a blaze of red.

"So," Phoenix says once they're seated in a little booth in the café. "How are you feeling?"

Edgeworth goes to say "tired" out of habit, but stops. "Actually, quite well rested," he responds.

This earns him a smile. "Good."

A long moment passes in silence. It's a serene quiet, not at all uncomfortable. "Thank you," Edgeworth says, quiet but sincere. "For everything."

The defense's face contorts into a frown. "Even though you slept through the night, I'm still not sure that you'll be alright on my own."

"Me neither." The honest answer slips past his lips before he can stop it.

"Anything I can do to help, Miles." Phoenix nods, knowing that Edgeworth would never ask for himself. The look that he gets in response only confirms this, his mouth forming a surprised "o" before settling into a look of contentment. "That's settled then." Phoenix claps once, happy that Miles is letting him in, even if he had to push his way through a little more than he'd like to. "I'll see you tonight?"

If Miles was anyone else, he would be dumbstruck at his new sleeping arrangements, but he wasn't just anyone and he was sharp, especially when it came to Wright. "Tonight."

The moment that Phoenix leaves the courtroom, he sighs deeply and drops his briefcase. Leaning against the nearest wall, he drops his face into his hands and groans. The day had been rough, between another difficult client, his typical fair share of bad luck, and worrying about Edgeworth, who was still as brutal in the courtroom as ever, he is exhausted. He slumps to the ground and buries his head in crossed arms and closes his eyes, allowing himself to just breathe for a minute. He hears the lobby clear out around him, the tapping of footsteps eluding his ears, and he enjoys the silence.

It's only when he hears slow, steady footfalls coming towards him that he lifts his head. He sees Miles, who looks nervous. Frowning, he stands up and meets him in the middle of the hall.

"Do you need me for something?" Phoenix asks, choosing his words carefully.

Edgeworth takes a breath, holding his upper arm with the opposing hand. "Tonight," he starts, forcing himself to continue. He's stopped trying to hide what he's thinking around Wright since he'll find out anyway, but that doesn't make it any easier for himself. "Can you come around ten?"

Phoenix smiles. "Of course. I'll see you then."

Ten rolls around, and Phoenix bikes to the front of his house. As he leans his bike on the porch, Miles is already holding the door open for him. Phoenix looks him over; he's in comfortable clothes, sweatpants and a long-sleeved, but they still look better than his own attire even though it's basically the same thing, just with a T-shirt and a zip up hoodie. Edgeworth takes Wright's coat, and then they go up to his bedroom.

"Do you need anything?" Edgeworth asks, watching as Phoenix goes to sit on the chair.

"No, I'm alright, thank you though."

Edgeworth frowns. "You know, you don't have to sleep on the chair. There's plenty room next to me." He feels bad already, making Phoenix stay up to watch him.

Surprised that he would let him be that close to him for that long, he nods tentatively, but doesn't turn up his nose at the offer; that chair really did a number on his back. Phoenix moves to the bed, kicking off his shoes and bringing his knees up to his chin. He rests his back against the headboard and watches as Edgeworth shifts onto his back.

His brows knit together, and he frowns at the defense attorney. "What?" he grunts.

"Nothing," Phoenix says, shifting to lay down. "You sure you're okay with me-"

"Wright." Edgeworth glares, smirking. "Shut up."

Phoenix chuckles. "Right. Goodnight, Miles." He settles onto his side and loops his arms under the pillow. Edgeworth flips the light off, and Phoenix keeps his eyes open in the dark until he hears the other's breathing fall into a slow rhythm and he turns gently in his sleep. Smiling, Phoenix closes his eyes.

The two attorneys fall into a routine. It's odd at first, but both become more comfortable after a week. Phoenix comes by at about ten, ten thirty if he notices Miles has several cases. Miles wraps up his work, goes to sleep, and then Phoenix follows suit shortly afterwards. During the first week, Miles doesn't have a single nightmare, and he feels that things are starting to look up. With more sleep, he loses his cool much less often and focuses better. He still feels bad about Phoenix, but whenever he brings it up, he gets dismissed, Phoenix saying, "If it helps you, don't feel bad." One time, he mentions how he does get a ride to work out of it, and Miles chuckles. Wright's bike sees more of Edgeworth's trunk, and Miles sees less of his father and Von Karma in his sleep.

It's the first day of the second week that Phoenix wakes up to Edgeworth thrashing in the middle of the night. He whips the blanket off and rushes around to Edgeworth's side of the bed, throwing on the light. "Miles!" he calls, hand on his shoulder to shake him awake.

He stays asleep, sweat pouring down his face as his whole body shivers. His hands clench the sheets and his knuckles are white. He looks so frightened, even with his eyes closed. Phoenix is almost brought to tears at the sight of his friend suffering so much, the comforting calm that usually graces his features nowhere to be seen.

"Miles! Wake up!" He yelps, louder, and shakes him vehemently. Edgeworth's eyes shoot open and dart around the room. His lips are mouthing the word "dad," so quietly that Phoenix can't hear it but can guess easily by how the tears are threatening to pull from his eyes. "It's okay, Miles. It was just a dream," Phoenix says, squeezing Edgeworth's hand.

His eyes meet Phoenix's and he starts to relax, rapid breaths starting to slow. The shivers stop, but turn to inward sobs. Before Wright can process what's happening, Edgeworth is crying into his shoulder. "He's gone," he sobs, and Wright rubs circles into his back. "He's gone, he's gone and it's my fault!"

"It's not, Miles," Phoenix says, pulling him close. He only sobs harder. "You didn't do it."

"But I didn't stop it!" His voice is muffled against Wright's shirt and warped from crying, but he can still hear the words.

"It's in the past, Miles," Wright whispers, "And you did what you could."

He's met with a wail. "I became everything he worked against!" Wright feels his fists push against his back as he speaks. He decides not to reason with Edgeworth; he is too worked up to be logical. Phoenix takes a breath to calm himself and turns his focus to calming him down.

"Miles. You need to breathe. Don't think about your father." He squeezes Edgeworth's shoulders and pulls him away to meet his eyes. "Focus on me."

Miles nods as he sees that Phoenix is right. His breath hitches, but he forces air into his lungs.

"That's it," Phoenix says, trying to pull him back towards himself, but the prosecutor puts up a hand to stop him and looks down. Phoenix waits patiently until he hears the other man's rhythmic breath slow to a normal rate.

"I'm good." Edgeworth rasps, sitting up in his bed.

Wright nods, sighing. "Is there anything I can get you? Water?"

"I'm an adult, Wright." He snaps, then softly murmurs, "Water would be nice."

Wright smiles, and hurries downstairs. Miles leans back and shuts his eyes tight. As ashamed and embarrassed as he is, he's glad that Wright was there. Left on his own, he probably would have done something rash. He returns a few seconds later with a glass of water. He hands it to Edgeworth, then circles around the bed to sit next to him.

"Thank you," Miles says, drinking deeply and then turning off the light once more. Wright smiles and watches him settle back down under the sheets before pulling up his own blanket.

This is the first time that Miles Edgeworth has been able to go back to sleep after a nightmare.