Archive of Our Own

“Morning, Boss!” came a cheery voice from behind the front desk as Phoenix entered Wright Anything Agency. 

Turning towards the direction of the sound, he was met with Athena’s smiling face as she skimmed through one of the many filing cabinets in the office. He frowned a bit, realizing his subordinate had once again been the one to unlock the doors in the morning. He’d given up on beating the kids to work not long after they’d been hired, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t still a bit embarrassing to be the last one in every day. 

Apollo was nowhere in sight, but that didn’t mean much. If Wright knew anything about the young man (and he did) then that just meant he’d been even earlier than usual. He was probably already investigating the crime scene of the case he picked up yesterday. One quick glance at the couch proved that theory as Phoenix was met with the sight of scattered paperwork in Apollo’s scrawled handwriting that hadn’t been there when he left yesterday.

He shook his head, chuckling softly to himself. In his defense, the other two employees didn’t have to worry about getting their teenager daughter to school every morning, though if he was completely honest it probably had more to do with his hatred of waking up early than it did Trucy. At this point she was more self sufficient at 7AM than he was, not that he planned to admit it.

“Hey Athena, sorry I’m late,” he answered apologetically as he shrugged his bag off his shoulder. 

At this, the red-haired young woman only shook her head at him, pulling her hands away from the files she was going through to focus entirely on him. He tried not to squirm under her unfiltered gaze. He was used to Athena’s uncanny ability to read people by now, and it hardly mattered anyway since he wasn’t hiding anything, but it was still unnerving.

“You don’t need to apologize, Mr. Wright, I heard all about it from Apollo before he left,” she said, causing him to raise a confused eyebrow at his protege. “How’s Mr. Edgeworth doing?”

Under any other circumstances, he would have been unable to stop a jolt of warmth from going through him. He knew that both Athena and Apollo had found Edgeworth a bit intimidating when they’d first met the man. Ok, maybe “a lot intimidating” was a more accurate description. Still, he’d been adamant that they get to know the prosecutor before forming any lasting opinions. He knew they’d been reluctant to agree, but after a few family game nights and magic shows with the man they seemed to be growing more comfortable around him. Some evenings Wright even had to cut the legal ramblings between Apollo and Edgeworth short so they both got home before their bedtime.

The idea that they were checking in on Edgeworth the way they asked after the other members of their makeshift legal family filled Phoenix with a hope he rarely allowed himself to indulge in: the hope that one day, Edgeworth’s role in their life could be something more than a colleague or friend.

There was something about the way Athena had phrased her concern that made him feel as if a knot was forming in his stomach, though. 

“He seemed fine last I checked… Did you hear something?”

Athena winced slightly, no doubt getting quite a bit of noise from his reply. His emotions were surely as confused as his mind.

“Well, I just…” she began, arms hugging her waist and eyes darting towards what seemed to be a very interesting spot on the floor, “I know he’s pretty self sufficient, but anyone would be shaken after receiving a death threat like that. You… you heard about that, didn’t you, Mr. Wright?”

Phoenix gaped at her, the new information rattling around his head like a ping-pong ball. Except this ping-pong ball wanted to kill one of his best friends.

“I… hadn’t heard of that before now,” he answered, speaking slowly so his brain could keep up with his words. The air in the room seemed thicker now than it had before.

“I’m sure there’s a good explanation!” Athena answered, a bit too quickly. “Maybe, uh… Maybe Mr. Edgeworth’s phone died!”

They both stared at each other for a few moments, a fake smile plastered onto his employee’s face. Phoenix only quirked an eyebrow, knowing a bluff that obvious hardly required him to vocally point it out. As if Edgeworth would ever allow his phone to die in the middle of a crisis. As if Edgeworth would ever allow his phone to die, period.

Athena’s smile grew sheepish, but she didn’t correct herself, likely because she had come to the same realization he had: if Edgeworth hadn’t reached out to him by now, it was a conscious decision not to do so. 

And that wasn’t the kind of thing people usually wanted to point out to their already upset boss.

“Could you keep an eye on things around here a bit longer for me?” he asked, with a small upturn to his lip he hoped masked at least some of the craziness happening in his head. “I need to have a talk with a certain Chief Prosecutor.”

“S-Sure thing, Boss!” 

She still looked nervous, but Phoenix waved it off. It wasn’t Athena he had a bone to pick with, after all.

***

There were enough police cars outside the Prosecutor’s Office that it looked almost as if there had been an actual murder, not just the threat of one.

As soon as the thought entered his head, Phoenix felt a wave of nausea wash over him. Leaning his bike against the side of the building, he berated himself for jumping to conclusions. It was only natural the police take a threat against Edgeworth seriously--he was an important man, after all. If anything, he should have been relieved to see the red and blue flashing lights. It meant there were plenty of people to make sure his friend was safe and ensure he stayed that way.

Despite his own forceful reminders, the anxiety rising in his chest only got worse as he approached the doors. He inhaled deeply, reminding himself how to walk like a human being, and reached for the handle. 

“Hold it!” called a loud voice that nearly made Phoenix jump out of his skin. He almost readied himself to throw an “objection!” back at the approaching man, but he quickly remembered that he was not , in fact, in the courtroom. 

Opting to wait for his assailant to explain further, he turned around and found himself looking at a young officer he’d never seen before. He couldn’t have been much older than Apollo, so it wasn’t a shock that they’d yet to be introduced. Still, that made his job harder. More seasoned cops had stopped putting up a fight when he tried to snoop long ago, especially since he could usually get the approval of the Chief Prosecutor. 

This new kid still had some gusto left in him, and Phoenix was in to much of a rush to deal with that. 

“This area is closed off to the public, Sir!” the man stated, spine so straight it made his own back hurt. “Only officers and prosecutors with proper identification beyond this point!”

The kid’s enthusiasm was almost funny. Almost. 

“Look,” Wright began as an exasperated sigh escaped his throat, “Chief Prosecutor Edgeworth and I are close… colleagues. I’m just going to pop in and get a run down on the situation. Then I’ll be out of your hair.”

The man only shook his head, completely unaffected by what Phoenix had said. He didn’t even seem to notice the way he’d stumbled over putting a label to his relationship with Edgeworth. Things had gotten so convoluted between them--from friends to strangers to rivals to coworkers to friends again to something that looked like family but maybe sorta longed to be something more. Phoenix himself was still a bit confused by the whole thing, and he certainly didn’t have the time to explain their complicated history to some guy he’d probably never see again.

“I need to ask you to vacate the premise, Sir!” the man half shouted, startling Phoenix from his thoughts. 

He pinched his nose and scrunched his eyes shut. 

“I’m not going anywhere--ask anyone, they’ll vouch for me. Trust me, kid, this isn’t a fight you're gonna win.”

The officer paused for a moment, apparently not expecting this kind of resistance. Phoenix felt for the kid -- he was just doing his job -- but he wasn’t about to give in. 

“I-If you refuse to leave of your own accord, you risk being detained!”

“I’m a defense attorney. Getting people  out of detention is kinda my thing, so I think I’ll take my chances. I’ll be visiting Edgeworth now.”

He tried to give the kid the slip, but he was quicker than Phoenix expected. Or maybe Trucy was right and his old age was starting to show. He didn’t like the sound of that.

“S-Stop right there!” The boy was nearly shouting now, becoming more panicked by the second. Man, he really hoped this kid didn’t have a run in with a real criminal any time soon. He’d probably faint,

Phoenix was about to tell Officer Goody-Two-Shoes that he was running out of patience when another voice entered the conversation, this one much louder than either of the other two participants. 

“Hey! What’s the big deal, pal!”

Wright felt a sigh of relief escape him as soon as he heard it. He knew that voice.

Turning on his heel Phoenix abandoned his stalemate with the new recruit and faced his Gumshoe in shining armor. Or, in this case, Gumshoe in battered trench coat. 

“Hey there, Gumshoe. Athena told me about what happened so I decided to make sure Edgeworth was alright.”

A flash of something that resembled disappointment came over the detective’s face as he nervously scratched the side of his head. 

“Oh, man, Miss Cykes knows? Prosecutor Edgeworth ain’t gonna be happy ‘bout that,” the larger man sighed. There was a pause as he seemed to consider something before continuing: “But… if ya already heard, I suppose there’s no reason to stop ya from seeing him.”

A startled noise escaped the younger of the two police officers, but he seemed to know better than to argue with someone who clearly outranked him. Phoenix just offered a sympathetic shrug as if to say “you’ll get used to it”. Turning back to the pouting Gumshoe, Wright patted his shoulder. 

“I appreciate it. I’ll put in a good word with Edgeworth when I’m up there, too, so you and Maggey don’t have to worry about a cut in your pay.”

Gumshoe seemed to perk up at that.

“You’d do that? Thanks a bunch, pal! Mr. Edgeworth definitely won’t be mad if you talk to him!”

 It wasn’t much more than a friendly gesture, if Phoenix was being honest. Edgeworth hadn’t seriously considered any serious changes to the man’s paycheck since he got married. When Phoenix had asked about it, he’d supplied some excuse about how he was far too busy keeping his prosecutors in check to handle every little mistake the police made as well, but Wright knew better. The grey haired man made sure that, now that the detective had a family to take care of, money wouldn’t be a concern. As much as he complained about Gumshoe, he had a soft spot for the guy, and they both knew it.

However, Edgeworth would throw a fit if he said as much so he’d let the half-hearted excuse slide.

Back in the present, Phoenix thanked Gumshoe once more as he finally entered the building.

The inside of the prosecutor’s office was much quieter and, as expected, his face was common enough around here that no one even gave him a second’s notice. He was happy not to be forced to fight with anyone else, but the silence weighed heavily on him. Alone in the elevator, his emotions returned in full force.

First, of course, he was just concerned for his friend. Being the chief prosecutor was dangerous under the best of circumstances. Adding on the whole “rebuilding the justice system from the ground up because corruption was so deeply ingrained in the old process that it had to be almost entirely dismantled” part of it really made the guy popular when it came to getting revenge. 

Thankfully, his talk with Gumshoe had at least eased his anxiety in that respect. If Edgeworth was hurt, the detective would have given the situation away immediately. Phoenix cared a lot about the man, but he had no poker face whatsoever. 

So, he was left with anger and, worse, hurt. 

Anger, of course, because Edgeworth always did shit like this. Sure he’d gotten better about keeping people informed about what was happening in his life, and Phoenix was proud of him for that. He knew it wasn’t easy, after all. But still, now and then something big would come up -- for instance, someone actively trying to kill him -- and the prosecutor would simply “forget” to mention it to anyone. Weren’t they better than that by now? Didn’t he realize how stupid it was to try to face something so dangerous on his own when all logic said that the more people who were watching his back, the safer he’d be? 

He must have known -- the man was like the Einstein of law and if it wasn’t logic making him act this way, it had to be something more personal. 

It all came down to trust, didn’t it? Edgeworth had seen Phoenix at the lowest point of his life. He’d cared when the rest of the legal world turned a blind eye, and for that, Phoenix would always be grateful. But no matter what he tried, he could never say the right thing to make that trust go both ways. 

That was where the hurt was, of course, but what else was new. He’d been trying to mend that divide for decades now, but it was never enough. He was confident that his friend would be there if he or Trucy ever needed a hand, but Edgeworth seemed to hate the idea of Phoenix returning the favor. 

He ached to be there for Edgeworth at his most vulnerable in a way that was deeper than simple friendship. Even when he was rejected again and again, his loyalty only seemed to become more stubborn. 

Well, falling for Miles Edgeworth had always been a bit of an enigma. Unrequited love was supposed to mean he was the one offering his affections for nothing in return, not the other way around. He could understand that. He could get over that. But this? This ridiculous game of give in take when the other party refused to take was something else entirely. The man he loved was more than happy to sacrifice anything, meanwhile Wright was stuck with an ever growing longing to return the sentiment, to show that he cared, and was turned away. 

How could he even resent Edgeworth for that? How dare you be completely selfless and smart and perfect when all I want to do is love you back? Yeah, that made loads of sense. 

It was all so confusing, like a puzzle he was missing the last piece to.

It had become easier to just resign himself to whatever Edgeworth was willing to allow. Hope only ever got him hurt when it came to that prosecutor.

Which is why, as he stepped out of the elevator, footsteps getting heavier and more determined by the second, he chose to focus on anger during their confrontation. 

The door to Edgeworth’s office got closer with each frustrated stride, until Phoenix was close enough to knock.

He didn’t bother, entering the room without any warning. 

To his surprise, Edgeworth was not alone. He sat at his desk, pristine and perfect as ever, engrossed in the piece of paper being presented to him by Detective Ema Skye. 

“We haven’t been able to determine any traceable fingerprints, and handwriting is a no go since it’s typed, but my team is still hard at work. With a bit more time I’m sure we could find something but…”

She trailed off, the concentration on her face shifting into a frown as she looked up from her work and spun around to face the open door. 

Phoenix nearly laughed. It was a fifty-fifty chance of who would remember the rest of the world first when those two got invested in their work. On this occasion, Ema beat Edgeworth to the punch, narrowly avoiding the title of Most Oblivious Person in the Room.

“Mr. Wright?” she questioned, apparently forgetting it was polite to say hi. He was sure she was busy with the whole death threat business, though, so he cut her some slack.

“Hello to you, too, Ema,” he answered, though his eyes were trained on the man sitting at the desk. 

He’d had plenty of time to practice his ‘ we need to talk’ look with Trucy back when he’d lost his badge, so he was confident Edgeworth would get the message. 

Confirming his assumption, the prosecutor cleared his throat and spoke for the first time since Phoenix had made his sudden entrance. The tension in his lips revealed he was far from happy to see him. 

“Miss Skye,” he said, his tone becoming extra-professional, the way it did when he was overcompensating for the fact he was close to losing his composure, “We will continue this conversation later when the forensics department has had the time to reach a more distinctive conclusion. Until then, I trust you to oversee the proceedings with the note.”

Ema looked to Edgeworth, then to Wright, and then back at the prosecutor once again. She, like the Feys and the members of the Agency, knew the two of them well enough to realize something was up. Unlike them, however, she knew better than to pry.

“Of course,” she nodded, warily. “I’ll get right on that.”

She only hesitated for a second before making a hasty exit. 

And then, the two lawyers were alone. The room suddenly felt far too large.

Well , Phoenix thought wryly to himself, I don’t want to waste the Chief Prosecutor’s time .

“Mind explaining to me why Athena had to be the one to tell me someone was trying to kill you?”

Edgeworth sighed and rolled his eyes, as if he expected what Phoenix had said but was disappointed all the same. The tension in the room didn’t need time to build. It seemed both men were already geared up for a dispute, and Phoenix wasn’t complaining. 

Standing up and crossing the room so he could properly face Wright, Edgeworth raised a single unamused brow.

“You’re a smart man, Wright. Surely, you’ve put two and two together by now,” the taller man answered with a haughty breath.

Phoenix felt himself prickle at the way Edgeworth acted like he was the one put out by this. He rolled his shoulders back, trying to make himself feel a bit bigger. 

“Sorry, let me rephrase then: I pieced together the part about you not wanting me to know for some reason. I came up short when it came to figuring out why you’re acting like a prick all the sudden, though,” he retorted, watching Edgeworth bristle with some satisfaction.

“I don’t see how this concerns you, Wright,” the prosecutor deflected, adjusting his glasses even though they had already been perfectly straight. 

“You? Not noticing how your actions affect others? I never thought I’d see the day,”Phoenix shot back with a laugh, though it was void of any humor.

“I beg your pardon!”

“Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about. You always do this Edgeworth, shutting people out when things get bad, but you never realize the people you fuck with along the way! Don’t believe me? Should I start presenting evidence? I’ve got loads.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” Edgeworth snarled, refusing to meet the attorney’s eyes. 

“And whose fault is that?” Wright snapped back. 

When Edgeworth didn’t respond, gripping his forearm for dear life, Phoenix was reminded that fighting with the steel eyed man was one of the best ways not to get information. He’d come here looking for a fight, that was true, but he also wanted answers. As much as he would have liked to continue blowing off steam to distract from the pain of the divide between him and his friend, that wouldn’t stop an assassin. 

The important issue at hand was the death threat itself, not how he’d heard about it. 

Taking a moment to ensure his voice would be even, Phoenix began again, tone civil albeit a bit tense.

“So what’s the deal? I know this had happened before, but the scene out front makes me think this might be different.”

Edgeworth still wouldn’t look up, making him worry that’d he’d gone too far and the walls that had sprung up around his friend wouldn’t come down. If Phoenix Wright was anything, though, he was stubborn.

He already felt the adrenaline from earlier draining from his body, replaced with the concern he’d felt his entire ride to the prosecutor’s office. Even with his face obscured, Phoenix could tell there was a lot happening inside the other man’s mind. As good as he’d gotten at reading Edgeworth, however, he wouldn’t know exactly what that was unless he told him. And that wouldn’t happen if Edgeworth was in defense mode, waiting for another stone to be cast. 

He allowed himself to soften, both in composure and intent, as he took a few steps forward, the space between him and the prosecutor growing smaller with each movement. Slowly, he laid his hand atop Edgeworth’s, still clinging to his own arm, and gently tugged it free. 

It was only then that grey eyes met his own, wariness flitting through them before they glazed over, as dark and as unreadable as ever. Phoenix allowed Edgeworth’s hand to fall from his grasp, careful not to linger, since even a second of hesitation could be the difference between a comfortable friendship and a territory neither man understood. 

He knew this, but that didn’t stop the tug in his chest as he thought of a world where he could hold on a bit longer and have that be allowed. 

He cleared his throat, both to interrupt the silence in the room and the noise in his head. 

“Regardless of who told me,” he began again, taking a step back to put a more acceptable amount of space between the two, “I know now. So it’s really better for both our peace of mind if you tell me the details now.”

Edgeworth frowned, but this time there was only his usual level of annoyance behind it. This was home turf. Phoenix knew better than to let the opportunity pass and flashed a wide grin. “You know I’m not one to give up without a fight, Edgeworth.”

That earned him a scoff and a glare, as if to brush him off. That was a good sign. Even before the man moved towards his desk and picked up the paper Ema had left, Phoenix knew he’d found his in. Edgeworth’s dramatic shows of annoyance almost always preceded his inevitable surrender.  

Phoenix reached out to take the page from the man’s extended, ignoring the way his skin buzzed as it brushed against Edgeworth’s pale fingers. 

He didn’t need further instruction and Edgeworth, never one to mince words, didn’t offer any. The attorney’s eyes scanned the page cautiously. It was obviously a copy of something, but of what? He read slowly, as if overlooking a word might be their downfall. 

Miles Edgeworth, 

It is time you pay for your crimes.

I can only imagine how many victims you have failed in your time as Chief Prosecutor. You allow the courtroom to become a circus. In doing so, you have betrayed both Julie and myself. But there have been many cases over the years, yes? Do all your wrongs eat at you? Does the guilt keep you awake at night and choke the breath from your throat?

I hope it does.  

But even if it doesn’t, you should know your peace is temporary. Everyone’s sins catch up with them eventually--even yours. The time has come to face the past. I will only be a tool in the hand of vengeance, delivering the painful end you deserve. 

I am not unreasonable. I’ll allow you time to get your affairs in order. It’s more than she was allowed and it’s more than you deserve, but it is yours all the same. Use it wisely.

The next time we meet your time will be up. Justice should have come sooner for you, but I will make things right. 

See you soon.

Phoenix was only barely able to suppress the shiver that threatened his body. The note was short and pretty vague, but chilling all the same. More so than even the usual death threat, which usually read a bit more like “I hate you and want you dead so I bought a gun”. There was a certain level of eloquence and misplaced duty in this message that really rubbed him the wrong way. 

“Well, it’s awfully nice of them to let you prepare a will,” Phoenix joked, mostly because he had no idea what else to say. “I hope you leave Trucy and I your huge house.”

Edgeworth glared daggers at him, mouth set in a hard line. Wright expected to be scolded about how this was serious and should be treated as such. What was not prepared for, however, was the way Edgeworth replied: “I already have a will prepared.”

And it wasn’t the words themselves that bothered Phoenix. It would be more of a shock if someone as on top of things as Edgeworth didn’t have a will. It was the tone that made his stomach turn. So nonchalant and practiced, as if Edgeworth had said as such a hundred times before. Like he’d had the thing sitting around for a long while now… 

Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth chooses death.

Ah, right. That was the other thing that bothered Wright about this letter--it reminded him of a time he would rather forget. The way it blamed Edgeworth for all that had happened, the way it seemed remorseful that this had not come sooner… it sounded an awful lot like the man himself just before he disappeared. 

And if Phoenix was this shaken up, he could only imagine how Edgeworth was feeling. How many years of therapy had the man attended only to get all of his fears thrown back at him?

Why didn’t he tell me? I should have been here for him.

Whatever. That didn’t matter right now. He’d deal with the hard stuff later, in the heat of the moment, as was his signature style. For now, they had a single objective: who wrote the stupid thing.

“Alright. What do we know?” he asked as he leaned back against Edgeworth’s desk.

Edgeworth furrowed his brows like he wanted to protest, but apparently thought better of it. Straightening the cuff of his sleeve, he rattled off what they’d uncovered thus far.

“The note was found on my desk, but none of the security cameras show anyone suspicious entering or leaving the room. Hence, the sheer number of officers downstairs. If the suspect entered my office once unnoticed they could easily do it again, so Gumshoe insisted extra eyes were necessary. I protested this, but was, unfortunately, out voted.”

Edgeworth seemed a bit put out by this and it took everything in Wright not to roll his eyes. Why was this man so insistent on giving him a heart attack over his safety? Rather than point this out and risk another dispute, he nodded.

“And what about the name--Julie?”

Edgeworth smirked, putting a finger to the side of his head whenever he was particularly proud of the point he was about to make. It always gave Wright a bit of a thrill to be the one to bring that smug look to his face, as if he’d asked just the right question. At least, it thrilled him when they were out of the courtroom. Usually, when Edgeworth used that expression in a trial it was because he was about to punch a major hole in the defense’s argument.

“Tell me, Wright, doesn’t that name sound a bit familiar?” Edgeworth questioned. 

Now this was what Phoenix was talking about. This was the sort of Wright-Edgeworth back and forth that got criminals off the streets (and occasionally destroyed Trucy, Apollo, and Athena during family game night).

And now that he pointed it out, that name did ring a bell. He raised a hand to his chin, pondering it for a moment, before suddenly, everything fell into place. 

An arrogant smirk capable of rivaling Edgeworth’s trademark look spread across Phoenix’s own face as he pointed a finger at the prosecutor. 

“Wilson V. State,” he announced, matter-of-factly.

“Nice of you to catch up,” Edgeworth quipped, catching Phoenix’s eyes for a split second before turning back to his desk. Not before Wright saw the smirk on his face widen into something closer to a legitimate smile, however. 

The return to their easy banter could only fight off the heavy atmosphere of the room for a few moments. Edgeworth opened one of the lower drawers in his desk and Phoenix immediately remembered it as where he kept case files he wanted to keep on hand rather than having to search the small legal library in his office for. 

“It’s been a while, but I doubt you need much of a refresher,” Edgeworth noted as he grabbed what Phoenix assumed was the record for Wilson V. State. Sure enough, his suspicions were concerned when he was given the file and began to skim the pages. 

Edgeworth was right, of course. The Wilson case was one he wouldn’t forget easily. 

He remembered he was looking forward to it at first -- Edgeworth was going to be the prosecutor on the case, something that had become a less common occurrence since his promotion, so Phoenix had been quick to visit Ms. Amira Wilson at the detention center. He was happy to work with other prosecutors (not that he had much of a choice in the matter) but trials with Edgeworth were still his favorite. Sure, part of that was because they were friends and he didn’t have to worry about some new kid showing up with a bird or whip or cup of hot coffee, but there was also something about knowing Edgeworth’s ideals that changed the game for him.

Cases with Edgeworth were never easy -- as was expected from the best prosecutor in Los Angeles -- but he always knew from the start that they would be able to achieve the correct verdict together. 

It didn’t take long for Phoenix to figure out that, in this scenario, that verdict had to be not guilty. Speaking to Wilson, a shy but kind woman, for the first time was enough to convince him. 

Even with that, the investigation had been tricky. Wilson, who was stated to be a close friend of the victim, was accused of killing Julie Hendriks in a fit of jealousy over Hendrik’s fiance. While the motive seemed pretty shaky to Phoenix, it was hard to deny any sort of involvement when Wilson’s fingerprints were all over the scene. He had to build the first day of the trial almost entirely off the fact that there were no prints on the murder weapon at all, but that had only barely gained him a one day extension. 

On top of that, Wilson had clearly been hiding something from him, which seemed to be a bad habit of his defendants these days. Why wouldn’t people just tell him the truth so he could help them?

In the end, with help from Edgeworth, Wilson was acquitted, but not before the truth came out. The gruesome facts they’d uncovered stayed with him even now, many months later. 

Judging by how close Edgeworth had kept the file, he wasn’t the only one shaken up.

“If it’s the prosecutor of the case being targeted,” Phoenix said, breaking through the heavy silence, “then the obvious suspect is the defendant.”

He lifted his gaze from the documents in hand to look at Edgeworth, awaiting confirmation for his theory. Instead of the smirk he expected, he was instead met with the man’s wide eyed stare. It took him a moment to realize what had brought on that look of surprise. 

“I mean, I still don’t think Amira would hurt a fly,” he added hastily, “but right now we just need a lead, right?”

Slowly, Edgeworth came out of his stupor and nodded, taking the bait.

“I suppose Ms. Wilson may know some people who could be angry on her behalf.”

“It’s worth looking into,” he agreed, feeling a bit guilty at how quickly he’d accused a former client. He hadn’t even been thinking at the time. His brain had been entirely focused on catching whoever it was as quickly as possible.

“I’ll go speak with her now. It’s not like I’ll be able to get much work done without wrapping this up first.”

“You’re going? Why not just send Gumshoe?”

Edgeworth gave him a questioning look and Phoenix immediately recalled every vital piece of evidence he’d ever found after Gumshoe allegedly sweeped the crime scene.

“Ok, stupid question,” he conceded, “But I’m not letting you investigate alone with some psycho hunting you for sport. I’ll come with you.”

Something flashed in the other man’s eyes that made Phoenix’s stomach flip, but it was gone before he could try to figure out why. 

“I appreciate your concern, but I’m sure you have your own cases to prepare for. If it makes you feel better, I’ll take one of the officers with me.”

Phoenix frowned as he recalled the young man from earlier.

“Yeah, I’m not sure how much good that would do you. Besides, I’m fresh out of requests right now. I might as well be unemployed again!”

“I’m not sure that’s something to brag about, Wright.”

“It is when it means there’s a major flaw in your argument.”

Edgeworth sighed, clearly annoyed, and Phoenix knew he’d already won. 

“Come on, then,” Edgeworth chastised as he retrieved his car keys from his pocket. “Let’s finish this quickly, since I, for one, still have a job to do.”

A laugh escaped Wright as he followed the other lawyer out the door, only a little disappointed that this meant he’d have to take the stairs all the way down to the parking garage.

“Oh!” he exclaimed, half way through their second flight. Edgeworth angled his head in the direction of his companion. “I promised Gumshoe I’d tell you it wasn’t his fault Athena found out. Actually, now that I think about it, Athena said she heard from Apollo, which probably means…”

Edgeworth groaned. “Gavin.”

Phoenix was unsuccessful in hiding his snicker.

***

The car ride to Miss Wilson’s apartment was quiet but not uncomfortable. Phoenix watched Edgeworth from the corner of his eye. With both hands settled on the steering wheel and his eyes glued to the road, he looked almost relaxed, even peaceful. There was a slight tension in his brow that told Phoenix that the man was lost in thought, likely going over what they knew about the note’s writer once more.

He wished he could say his mind was filled with similar concerns but, to his great frustration, his brain had wandered back to the question of why Edgeworth had wanted to keep him in the dark. For all the trouble he’d gone to to keep Phoenix away, he seemed rather relieved to have his assistance now. 

He’d assumed that Edgeworth had thought his presence wouldn’t be of use, but now, he wasn’t quite sure. He was quick to open up once the cards were on the table, and Phoenix was all too familiar with how stubborn he could be when he really put his foot down. So if it wasn’t just his usual insistence on doing things himself, then it had to be something more complicated. 

Now that he thought about it, Edgeworth had been careful not to provide any blatant denials or omissions during their confrontation earlier. 

Phoenix had half the mind to laugh, leaning back in his seat, drinking in the way Edgeworth’s silver hair moved with the car’s stops and starts. 

How very Edgeworth of you , he thought. Of course you took that into consideration. Nothing ever slips your mind, does it?

The magatama sat in his pocket, cool to the touch. He’d started carrying it with him all the time not long after he got his badge back, just in case he got roped into an investigation without time to bike to the apartment and pick the jewel up. 

He tried not to use it on friends out of consideration for their privacy -- Edgeworth specifically. Yeah, the guy had a bad habit of keeping secrets, but if anyone understood why, it was Phoenix. Between growing up in the von Karma household and spending fifteen years convinced he killed his own father, it was a miracle he wasn’t more fucked up.

No, not a miracle. It was a testament to Edgeworth’s strength and the years he’d spent trying to be a better man. 

So if he was still a bit closed off, Phoenix could accept that. 

Part of him thought he should leave this be as well, considering how quickly things had gotten out of hand at the office, but it was a little different when the secret Edgeworth was keeping was obviously connected to Phoenix. If there was something happening between them, he wanted to know before things got worse.

Before he could decide whether or not to broach the topic again, the car pulled up in front of a modest apartment building. 

“We’re here,” Edgeworth informed him, wasting no time unbuckling his seatbelt and exiting the car. Phoenix scrambled to follow suit. 

Wilson’s flat was on the first for, luckily for Phoenix. He hated stairs.

At least that's where it was according to Edgeworth, although Wright had no idea when the other man had come across that information. He didn’t have time to question it as Edgeworth stopped before one of the doors and knocked politely.

A minute passed before it swung open, revealing a dark haired woman in her mid-twenties. Phoenix recognized her, of course. They’d spent plenty of time talking to each other about the case back at the detention center.

Still, the person in front of him was different than the one he’d met then. The bags under her eyes were gone and her dark complexion had a warmth to it that had been missing during the trial.

When Julie died, she’d been distraught past the point of a woman who had been wrongly accused of murder (which warranted plenty of anxiety on its own). “Close friends”, that was how all the official documents described the relationship between the alleged killer and her victim, but all present company knew better. 

A wide grin spread over her face when she saw them -- an expression he’d never seen from her before. His shock at her smile was quickly overshadowed as she greeted them.

“Miles!” Amira exclaimed, causing Phoenix to choke on his own saliva. As he coughed and pounded his chest, she spread her arms at the taller of the two men and offered him a friendly hug. An action that Edgeworth returned . “It's been too long!”

It was so brief that he almost considered it was only his imagination, but no, that actually happened, as was proven by Edgeworth’s reply.

“Indeed it has,” offering a reserved smile at the girl. 

Amira then turned towards Phoenix, as if only just realizing he was there. 

“Mr. Wright,” she mused with a knowing look towards Edgeworth he couldn’t quite place, “what a surprise! Miles told me you’ve been well since the trial, but it's nice to see in person.”
Ok, how was this woman on a first name basis with Edgeworth but not the man who’d kept her off death row? He struggled to find his voice as his brain seemed to insist on pointing out the obvious: this was all really weird.

We’re these two… 

He shook the thought from his mind as quickly as it appeared. Now he was just being totally ridiculous. Even if he had a minor, completely manageable crush on Edgeworth, getting jealous over something like this was stupid and completely unnecessary. 

Not to mention, both of them were gay, making Gumshoe more likely to be competition than Amira. Not that he cared, because he didn’t. 

As much as he hated to admit it, though, he took comfort in that knowledge and immediately felt guilty. After all, he never would have known Amira’s preferences if she hadn’t been accused of her own girlfriend’s murder. 

The more he dwelled on that case, the more nauseous he felt. 

Still, he forced himself to put a coherent reply together. 

“I didn’t know he talked about me,” he laughed, with a pointed look in Edgeworth’s direction that said ‘ I didn’t know you spoke to this woman at all’ . When his silent question was ignored (as expected) he continued. “It’s really good to see you, too. I know things were tough when we last talked.”

She nodded, a bit solemnly, but her smile didn’t slip off her face. “I’ve been doing a lot better. I owe it all to you, too.”

The last part was directed at Edgeworth, which only made Phoenix more confused, but the other man did nothing to clear it up. 

“Your success belongs to you and you alone,” he said, waving the statement off with a flick of the hand. “That said, I wish this was a friendly visit. We are unfortunately here on business.”

At this, Amira did frown. 

“I see. Why don’t you two come in so we can talk?”

They followed her in the apartment as she led them towards the sitting area. It was a bit small for all three of them, but they managed, Edgeworth and himself settling on the floral sofa and Amira taking the armchair across the way. 

“I can get you drinks, if you’d like,” she said, crossing one leg over the other, “but I get the feeling you want to keep this short.”

Edgeworth nodded, folding his hands in his lap like he was taking tea with the queen of England herself. A small smile tugged at Phoenix’s lips as he recalled he did the same thing when he ate dinner with him and Trucy. It was a sight to behold: the two Wrights downing spaghetti at record speed while Edgeworth double checked his napkin was still properly situated across his lap.

“You would be correct, Ms. Wilson,” he answered, taking a folded piece of paper from the inner pocket of his jacket. He handed it over before Wright could protest they were showing their hand too soon. Although Amira hadn’t read it yet, Edgeworth still provided an explanation. “In these situations, it is usually the defendant looking for revenge on a prosecutor who tried to have them wrongly convicted, but you should know we aren’t accusing you. Our friendship aside, if you wanted me dead, you could have done so during any of my visits without needing to infiltrate my office and leave a note.”

Again, Phoenix bristled at the way the two of them talked so casually with each other. Edgeworth was allowed to have friends -- he deserved that and so much more -- but it was odd how, despite Wilson being a mutual acquaintance, he’d never mentioned her.

Thankfully, his irrational annoyance went unnoticed by the other two. Or, at least by Amira. Edgeworth likely knew and was ignoring it. 

Amira read over the short note -- the copy of what had been left in Edgeworth’s office that morning Ema had provided. Her eyes seemed to gloss over half way through, and if Phoenix had to take a guess, it was the mention of her girlfriend’s name that had taken her by surprise. 

There was a pregnant pause before she spoke, even after it became obvious she was done reading. The two lawyers allowed her the time she needed to process. 

“I… don’t understand,” she said, finally. “Julie, she… it wasn’t anyone’s fault…”

At his side, Edgeworth nodded, still as professional as ever, although Phoenix could tell his right hand was itching to return to cutting off the blood flow in his arm. Rather than force him to hide his guilt, Wright decided to step in. 

“I know I speak for us both when I say we never wanted to force you to talk about the trial,” he started, with a glance at Edgeworth. The other man offered the subtlest ghost of a smile, which was all the encouragement he needed. “But we don’t have much information right now and it's kinda a race against the clock before… well, before things get bad.”

Her eyes slid to Edgeworth once again with that same look from earlier that seemed to say she knew something he didn’t. This time, Edgeworth’s expression was a bit less guarded, gaze fixed on the floor and ears going slightly pink.

Amira inhaled sharply and set her shoulders, a look of determination spreading across her face.

“I’ll help however I can.”

A knot Phoenix didn’t even know was there seemed to unravel within him. 

“Thank you. For starters, do you know anyone who might be upset with Edgeworth because he was prosecuting you?”

“Some of my friends were angry,” she said, chewing her bottom lip, “but that was like, right after the case. Once they heard everything you did to help me any hard feelings disappeared. I’m pretty sure they’re more likely to ambush you with a hug than a pistol these days.”

Edgeworth’s face contorted in disgust, which Phoenix was positive was directed at the idea of hugs from strangers rather than a bullet in his head. 

He wanted to ask what exactly Edgeworth had done for Amira, but, as if sensing his question, Edgeworth cut in. 

“You’re sure you aren’t overlooking anyone?”

Phoenix tried his best not to roll his eyes. Great, one more secret for the collection .

“I’m sure. My circle got a lot smaller when I came out, so there aren’t many who’d be angry out of loyalty to me, anyway.”

“I see…”

Edgeworth looked frustrated with the dead end, and he couldn’t blame him. His own heart sunk in his chest with how little they had to go on. That, and the underlying tragedy of how someone as kind as Amira didn’t have the army she deserved supporting her. 

One hopeless situation at a time, Phoenix , he chided himself. 

“There is something that’s kinda weird though,” Amira added, tilting her head at the paper in her hands.

Both lawyers’ gaze snapped back up at the woman, wide eyed and waiting for her to continue.

“The last sentence here-- it talks about how Julie didn’t get time before...” she trailed off, unable to finish the sentence. With a shake of her head, she tried again. “They talk like Julie was murdered, but that was disproved at the trial.”

The two lawyers looked at each other, a silent question exchanged between them. 

How did we both miss that?

For a moment, Phoenix felt like he was back in that courtroom, looking at Edgeworth standing across from him. Everything had felt so right in that moment. It was the last day of Wilson V. State and with his friend and rival’s help, the truth was sure to come out. 

If only that feeling could have lasted.

At that point, Phoenix was positive Amira had tampered with the crime scene. She’d admitted to discovering the body before it was reported to the authorities by Julie Hendrik’s parents. Now, the question became why was she at Hendrik’s apartment and what kept her from calling it in. 

The answer to the first query was actually discovered by Edgeworth before Wilson even gave her testimony. Phoenix hadn’t expected it, but even as the prosecutor presented evidence that could easily cause a problem for his case, he wasn’t surprised. The man who omitted facts that didn’t put people in prison was long gone, so, on that tragic morning, the court came into possession of a collection of love letters that had been discovered in Hendrik’s apartment. 

He still remembered the look in his friend’s eyes as he addressed his witness. If Edgeworth weren’t so reserved, Wright would have thought it resembled heartbreak. 

“Since the contents of these correspondences are rather personal, I will refrain from reading them aloud, at least for now. Instead, I will summarize my purpose for presenting them: the defendant, Ms. Amira Wilson, was in a romantic relationship with the victim--one that has existed for at least three years now.”

Before he could say any more, the room erupted in confused noise. Phoenix’s eyes had immediately flown up to the gallery where Hendrik’s parents and fiance were sitting. Her mother was clinging to her husband’s shirt, obviously crying. On the other hand, the fiance was frozen, his face having lost all its color. 

As soon as the Judge had gotten the room under control, Edgeworth began again.

“In the name of a fair trial, I believe it is imperative this information be acknowledged by the court, as it affects how we view the case. However, I realize that I cannot prove the authenticity of my claim without submitting these letters to further scrutiny. So, I will ask the defendant to testify: what was your connection to Ms. Julie Hendriks?”

Amira looked as if she wanted to disintegrate. Her arms were wrapped tightly around her waist and tear-filled eyes glued to the floor. It was a lose-lose situation. Either admit to her well kept secret or have it proven by her personal letters to her lover. For a moment, Phoenix thought he might have to step in and coax an answer from her himself, but her soft reply silenced him.

“You’re right,” Julie said, voice barely above a whisper. “Julie and I had been together for a long time when it happened, but she was worried about how people would react, so we kept it to ourselves. Covering things up just kept getting harder, though. We had to go to larger and larger extremes to stay hidden. Suddenly she was engaged and I was supposed to be her maid of honor and… well, I loved her, so I said I’d play whatever part she needed.”

She took a shaky breath and gathered herself. She was openly crying now, but there was something in the way she held herself that told him she wasn’t finished. 

“That day, I had told her I would take her to lunch. I just wanted to get her mind off everything for a while -- to make her feel a bit less hopeless. I went to pick her up around noon, which is when I found the body.”

The new information seemed to have taken everyone aback, save Edgeworth, who only looked as if he wished things could have gone differently. They both wanted the correct person to be convicted, but the carnage being left behind by their search for the truth was more devastating than they were used to.

It took him a moment, but Phoenix had been able to get his head on straight enough to do his cross examination. Things began to fall into place after that, even with Edgeworth pointing out every little flaw in his logic.

(“The prosecution has lost its motive! How could the defendant kill out of jealousy over a man she hardly knew when she was in love with the victim!”

“Objection! The defendant could still have been envious, given the situation! This man you claim she hardly knew was about to marry her partner of three years!”

“But if that was what drove her to kill, then it would be the fiance who died, not Ms. Hendriks!”)

And then, after hours of back and forth, it hit him. They were looking at the case as something it wasn’t, looking for a culprit where one couldn’t be found. Wilson still refused to explain why she didn’t call in the crime, and based on what they’d heard today, it seemed there was only one person she’d risk being sentenced to death for: the victim. 

He felt as if there was sand in his mouth. He knew he was correct, but part of him wished he wasn’t. He wanted to know there was an evil they could put behind bars and that this had not just been the tragic, unrepairable end for a very scared woman.

“Ms. Wilson,” he began, glancing at Edgeworth for just a moment. The other man didn’t seem like he knew where he was going, but Wright could tell he wanted to hear what came next. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he used that as the confidence boost he needed to continue. “I believe I know why you tampered with the crime scene. Ms. Hendriks asked you to, isn’t that right?”

Once again, there was chaos in the room. Edgeworth alone was silent. His brow was furrowed in confusion but there was something happening behind those steel eyes. He was beginning to understand. 

“W-Wh… I don’t,” Amira sputtered, looking for a lie that would sound convincing, “Julie… she was dead when I found her. How could she… it doesn’t make any sense.”

Phoenix shook his head, wishing his conclusion was as far-fetched as she claimed. 

“You can’t think we would believe that, after discovering your lover dead, you would not immediately call the police. Even if you were in shock, once your wits returned you would have wanted answers. No, you would need a nearly infallible reason not to bring whoever was responsible to justice. You took something from the crime scene, didn’t you? Namely, a note.”

Amira was shaking her head in rapid denial, but the tears flowing down her face choked any vocal argument from her throat. 

Phoenix Wright delivered the final blow: “Julie’s death wasn’t a murder, was it? It was a suicide.”

Amira was already devastated, so it didn’t take long to convince her to submit the suicide note to the court record. After spending so much time hiding it, she seemed to have lost her fight. All she’d asked was that it be returned to her, as it was the last letter she would ever receive from the woman she loved. 

Sure enough, it was addressed to her, starting with a heartfelt apology that insisted none of this was Amira’s fault. Julie had truly adored her girlfriend, that much was obvious. Phoenix only wished they could have had more time.

After that, came the dead woman’s final requests. Not wanting her family to blame themselves, she asked that Amira mess with the room just enough to imply reasonable doubt for fowl play. That way, even if her case was unsolved, no one would have to think it was their fault.

It was a very bad plan, especially since Amira had only known to hide her fingerprints after the fact, like when she kicked the bloody knife across the room. Not to mention, in protecting her family she put an enormous weight on her girlfriend. But it was easy to see that as an outsider. He couldn’t imagine what had been going through the woman’s mind at the time. All Phoenix could say for sure was that Julie wouldn’t have wanted Amira charged for a crime she didn’t commit. 

“She never did think things through,” Amira choked out between sobs. 

With the suicide note present, it only took a handwriting test to make his case. Edgeworth hardly said a word as the trial came to a close, securing a not guilty verdict that left no one feeling like justice had been served. 

Neither Edgeworth or he took a case for a while after that. Instead, they’d made an extra effort to grab lunch together during the week, checking in with one another and cherishing the time they had together.

It had been a bloody trial without much closure, but it was well supported in it’s verdict. Someone who still believed it to be a murder… well they couldn’t have known much about the case, which made no sense, since they were angry enough over it to kill. 

Phoenix returned to the present in a blur, hoping no one had said anything important while he was spaced out. A quick look around told him the others were still as lost as he felt.

“So,” he prompted, “what does that leave us with?”

Edgeworth’s mouth formed a tight line. “A suspect who isn’t familiar with the case or one who is choosing to ignore it.”

“Ignore it?” asked Amira, cocking her head.

“Simply put, they’re in denial. It isn’t unheard of when it comes to traumatic cases, although the extent that would be required to try to kill me is rather uncommon.”

Phoenix rested his chin on his hand, considering the options. “So it’s likely someone close to Julie--someone who doesn’t want to believe it was a suicide?”

“It’s a bit more complex than that, but yes.”

He was hit with the image of the devastated Mr. and Mrs. Hendriks on the day the truth had come out. 

“What about her parents?”

Edgeworth seemed to genuinely consider his suggestion, though Wright wasn’t sure if that was because he agreed or because he didn’t have any better ideas. He never found out, either, because Amira spoke up before the man could respond.

“I don’t think so,” she said, shifting in her seat from nervous energy. “They moved away not long after I was acquitted, but they’ve been working really hard to come to terms with all of this. They… they actually reached out to me not long ago to invite me to dinner at their house. Said they wanted to get to know Julie’s partner the way they should have before… you know.”

Her voice had gotten tight near the end, wavering ever so slightly, but she didn’t look entirely upset. Phoenix got the feeling that, while the circumstances were not what any of them had wanted, Amira had been waiting for this opportunity for a long time. 

He didn’t say it aloud, but he liked to think that it would have made Julie very happy seeing the three of them get along. 

“So the parents are a dead end, too,” Edgeworth replied, more to himself than anyone else. Phoenix frowned--this wasn’t looking good.

“Have you talked to Nate yet?” asked Amira, obviously trying to hide her distaste for her former girlfriend’s fiance but not entirely succeeding. He noted that this wasn’t an unbiased comment, but he couldn’t deny they should look into it.

This time, it was Edgeworth to shoot down the notion. 

“According to his friends and family, Nate McGraw left the country a few months ago and hasn’t been back since. I had my team look into the matter earlier today.”

Phoenix couldn’t help the groan that escaped him, leaning back in his seat and running a hand down his face. 

“Well, it seems like we know just as much as we did when we got here, Edgeworth: next to nothing. We should probably look for a new angle, since talking isn’t getting us anywhere.”

Amira rubbed her arm, eyes downcast. 

“I wish I could have helped more…” she trailed off, and Phoenix knew she meant it.

Edgeworth cut in before he had the chance.

“Nonsense, you’ve saved us hours of investigation by informing us where we would find nothing. Your assistance was invaluable, truly,” he assured her, placing his hands on his thighs as he moved to stand. “I do agree with Wright, though, we should be going. I would stay longer but there’s still much to be done and I know my companion will get cranky if I keep him from his lunch.”

Phoenix had to keep himself from arguing that he did not get cranky , not to mention the fact he didn’t intend on stopping for noodles before getting this whole thing with Edgeworth sorted out. A former client’s home didn’t really seem like the place for a debate. 

Instead, he followed the other two to the door and tried not to find their easy conversation too irritating. Edgeworth offered his thanks once more as they left, and Amira wished them both luck.

“It was nice seeing you again,” Phoenix said with a wave. Amira nodded enthusiastically. 

“Don’t be a stranger, Mr. Wright! Once all this is sorted out, Miles should bring you by when he visits.”

He smiled politely, and assured her they’d see each other soon, though the repeated use of Edgeworth’s first name grated his nerves.

As the two men approached the car, Phoenix was ready to burst with questions, ranging from utterly ridiculous to vital for their investigation. Unfortunately, he knew that most of the latter were questions Edgeworth would be unable to answer, so he went with the first thing that popped into his head.

“What was that ?” he demanded as soon as he had pulled the passenger door shut behind him.

Edgeworth didn’t look at him as he buckled his seat belt and started the car. It was a conscious choice that only made Wright more suspicious. He moved to grab the magatama in his pocket as subtly as he could, fingers brushing against the smooth stone.

“I have no idea what you are referring to,” Edgeworth answered, wasting no time pulling out onto the main road. 

As expected, because nothing was ever easy with Edgeworth, the details around the man faded to black as chains shot across his chest with a loud clang . Phoenix had become skilled at hiding his surprise when it came to psyche-locks, but he couldn’t stop himself from raising his brows as he counted them.

Five in all. Phoenix had to wonder what could possibly make such a simple query so difficult to answer.

“Edgeworth, you can’t deny what I saw with my own eyes,” he deadpanned. Such a weak argument was completely out of character for the prosecutor, so he imagined the other man had already come to terms with the fact he might have to divulge one of his secrets. “You have no reason to be on such good terms with a woman you were trying to get charged with murder a few months ago.”

“It’s only an acquaintanceship formed from spending so much time together during the case. Nothing more.”

Phoenix could have laughed if that wasn’t so insulting. 

“She calls you by your first name! I’ve known you since fourth grade and I’d still get chewed out for even thinking about trying that!”

“We’re coworkers. A certain level of professionalism must be kept between us.”

“Sure. And how does any of that explain why she acted like she owed you a life debt?”

One of the locks shook, but Phoenix didn’t let it get his hopes up. The first lock was often an easy job compared to the others.

Edgeworth ran his thumb across the leather of the steering wheel, hesitating before his next response.

“She… As I said to her, Ms. Wilson owes me nothing. My contribution was minuscule in the grand scheme of things.”

Just a bit more, Phoenix… 

“But you did help her, didn’t you? After the verdict was given you sought her out. Why?”

He could see Edgeworth swallow, still refusing to meet his gaze. After some hesitance, his reply came in a tone riddled with feigned nonchalance.

“As chief prosecutor, I have taken it upon myself to check in with those involved in particularly… unsavory cases,” he relented, finally. Phoenix watched a lock near his shoulder crack open and disappear into the darkness. “Originally, my interactions with Ms. Wilson were nothing more than another such scenario.”

Phoenix fought his muscles to stop the incredibly soft smile threatening to spread across his face. This was the demon prosecutor, then? A man who intentionally went out of his way to ensure others were not a victim of a tragedy’s aftermath? This was the demon prosecutor, who cared about nothing but a perfect record, becoming personally involved in a case he’d lost? Yeah, that was definitely the kind of thing Phoenix associated with demonic behavior. 

He didn’t need to ask why, either. Really, doing so would have been pretty cruel, considering. Phoenix knew all about DL-6, from the trial back in 2016 to the nightmares Edgeworth still suffered from in December. He also knew that what had come after the loss of his father in the von Karma household had been just as poisonous than the time his friend had spent in that elevator. 

Edgeworth was checking in because, in his case, it had been fifteen years before anyone thought to do so for him and, despite Phoenix’s best efforts, the damage was already done. 

He left that side of things untouched, not wanting to bring up harmful memories where they could be avoided. Instead, he focused on another part of Edgeworth’s statement entirely. 

“You said it started that way,” he repeated, slowly, “but that means something changed.”

Edgeworth shot him a warning look.

“You never did know how to leave well enough alone, Wright.”

“And you never were good at stalling, Edgeworth.”

The other man sighed, brows drawing together. “The more I interacted with Ms. Wilson and the case, the more apparent it became that I was not as detached from her situation as I had previously thought. While I’d never met any of the involved parties before the trial, I was… sympathetic to her struggle.”

Phoenix tried to recall a time when Edgeworth had been in Amira’s position, but none felt quite right. Sure, he was no stranger to grief, but as far as Wright knew, he hadn’t tragically lost any past lovers. 

It seemed the silence was enough to make Edgeworth brave a glance in his direction. Phoenix met his steel gaze with his own determined stare. The other man winced slightly, but he didn’t immediately look back to the road. 

With a heavy sigh, he met Wright’s silent challenge.

“At first it was only the occasional visit. We’d have tea and talk, but each conversation left me more concerned for her health,” he elaborated, though it still didn’t explain why Edgeworth understood Amira’s position. “After a while, I felt we were on friendly enough terms that it would be appropriate to suggest she receive professional counseling. She was hesitant at first, but between hearing of my own experience with therapy and my offer to… aid in the financial burden, she eventually relented. Really, though, her improvement is a result of her resolve.”

Phoenix blinked. The pang of jealousy from before had returned, but it was dulled by surprise. Edgeworth throwing money at a problem wasn’t much of a shock. He’d always known the man was generous, especially with his share of the von Karma inheritance. Helping a woman he’d only known for a few months wasn’t something Wright had expected, but it fit with the prosecutor's form of compassion. 

Edgeworth sitting down and talking about his own problems willingly, on the other hand, was completely out of character, not that he doubted the comradery was something Amira had needed. 

A laugh escaped him before he could stop it, erupting from his throat from out of nowhere and earning quite the glare from his companion. He hurried to explain before Edgeworth could yell at him.

“Sorry, sorry,” he apologized, though the grin was still tugging at his face. “It’s just… I really should have known whatever it was you were so intent on hiding was something good. You can just tell me you did something nice, you know? I think I’ve known you long enough to have figured out the whole sarcastic, grumpy guy facade is a cover up, Edgeworth.”

Edgeworth’s fingertips twitched on the steering wheel, as if he was only barely resisting the urge to cross his arms. Phoenix thought it best not to point out the intense shade of red his cheeks were turning--he’d rather not get in a car crash because Edgeworth was too flustered to concentrate. 

“Are you finished, Wright? Have you embarrassed me enough?” He deflected, the disdain in his tone missing it’s usual edge. Then, a bit softer: “I thought it was clear that I don’t like you using that stone on me.”

Phoenix was startled to be caught in the act, and an ashamed blush of his own rose to his face, but honestly he should have known better. Edgeworth was incredibly observant and he knew Wright better than just about anyone, save Trucy. He wouldn’t lie about it -- the prosecutor had a right to know, after all -- but that didn’t mean he was about to back down.

“That depends, Edgeworth,” he said evenly as he pulled the charm from his pocket out into the open. “Are you going to tell me what those four other locks are on your own?”

“No,” he stated without missing a beat.

“Then I guess I’m not finished yet.”

“I am entitled to my privacy, Wright.”

Phoenix felt his frustration from earlier rapidly returning.

“Yes, you are!” he snapped. He was so tired of being pushed away like this. “Which is why I ignore it when you dodge questions or tell me you’ve taken a break when I know you haven’t -- but this isn’t just your usual evasiveness, Edgeworth! Someone wants you dead and I can’t do anything if I don’t know the whole story!”

The silence that followed his outburst was suffocating. He tried to ignore the part of his brain that said he’d gone too far; that Edgeworth wouldn’t forgive him for overstepping this time. He refused to take it back, though, because he was right . Edgeworth could hate him all he wanted, but Phoenix was going to make damn sure he was alive to do it. 

It took him a second to notice since the world aside from Edgeworth was still muted by darkness and chains, but they’d taken a turn he was pretty sure didn’t bring them to the prosecutor’s office. He wanted to ask where they were going, but the tense atmosphere stole the question from his throat.

After a few more minutes of quiet driving, Edgeworth pulled into an empty parking lot of a store with a sign so faded Phoenix couldn’t read it. Putting the car in park, the other man turned towards him with an icy glare. 

“It seems I’m not going to convince you otherwise with words, so I have no choice but let you come to the conclusion I’m not going to talk on your own,” he said, obviously unhappy but thankfully not sounding as if he never wanted to see Phoenix again. 

“You know I’m not one to back down from a challenge,” he warned, searching his friend’s face for any hint of what all of this was about.

“I know, but there is too much at stake for me to lose. I’m ending this here,” Edgeworth answered solemnly. 

“If your goal is to make me less curious, it’s not working.”

Edgeworth huffed, which Phoenix took as a sign he should get on with it. Lifting the magatama up towards the other man, he found himself more nervous than he’d expected. Hopefully, the rest of the answers were as innocent as the first.

Somehow, he didn’t think that was the case.

“You said that you understood the situation Amira was in. What did you mean by that?”

Another lock shook. Right on the money, Phoenix . Edgeworth’s lips twitched, but he was quick to cover up any tells. 

“You’ll have to do better than that, Wright,” he chided, looking smug. “Evidence is everything. I have no reason to tell you something you know nothing about.”

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. It wasn’t like they were in the courtroom right now, they could talk like normal people for once in their lives. Still… something about that seemed off.

“But I do know something, don’t I?” he asked before he even knew what he meant by it. His brows furrowed as the pieces came together. “You wouldn’t have been so reluctant to bring me along if I didn’t. Even if it was about your reputation, someone would have needed to come with you to see Amira, but I’m the one you're so insistent on keeping in the dark? I was involved in this thing you’re reminded of.”

Edgeworth flinched, eyes going anywhere but Phoenix’s face. 

“If that was the case, why ask me? You could have figured it out on your own if you were there.”

It was a fair point, especially since he still had no clue what he was supposed to know. He hummed, going over the facts once again.

“Probably because the way you and I think are really different,” he answered after a beat. “You overthink things more than I do so it's easier for you to make connections that I would miss. I’m more of a bluff my way to the right answer kind of guy.”

Edgeworth gawked at him, as if he wasn’t sure whether to take that as an insult or a compliment. Truth be told, Phoenix wasn’t any more sure than he was, but it was true all the same. He waited for a reply, maybe a push in the right direction, but none came, so Phoenix figured all he could do was keep talking.

“So, I’m looking for similarities between you and Amira,” he mused. “You both like tea, like, a lot. It’s kinda weird, to be honest.”

At that, a scowl spread across the other man’s face and his hands returned to the steering wheel.

“I’m not going to waste time with this if you won’t take it seriously,” he chastised, reaching for the ignition. “You’re thinking is wrong, anyway.”

“W-wait!” Phoenix exclaimed, catching his hand just before he could start the engine again. Edgeworth’s eyes snapped back to him in an instant, not angry exactly, but definitely wary. He hoped the prosecutor couldn’t see the blush blooming beneath his freckles as he felt the warm skin beneath his finger tips. 

Phoenix cleared his throat and dropped Edgeworth’s hand, lingering a bit longer than was strictly necessary.

“If… If I’m way off then that means,” he stammered, trying to jump start his brain, “that means it isn’t Amira you relate to.”

The subtle terror in Edgeworth’s gaze was confirmation enough. He wanted to ease the man’s nerves, but he couldn’t make Edgeworth believe he had no intent of using this information against him. Phoenix only wanted to help, but there was no way to force his friend to see that.

Instead, he pushed ahead in the hopes they could get this over with quickly and Edgeworth wouldn’t have to be afraid any longer.

“It’s just a matter of figuring out who exactly it is you connect with,” he thought aloud, going over the key people of the case once again. The parents, the fiance, the lover, and--

Oh.

“The victim. Julie,” he stated, looking at Edgeworth with wide eyes. “Which means… Which means that I…”

“You were who Amira reminded me of,” Edgeworth finished, defeated. Another lock broke, but Phoenix struggled to celebrate the success when the words Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth chooses death were playing on repeat in his head like a broken record.

“Speaking with her reminded me of what happened after Gant’s conviction,” he continued, pain in his eyes. “Of course, I was still alive, but no one knew that and if things had played out differently then, well, I would have been closer to Ms. Hendriks than I’m comfortable admitting.”

Phoenix hated this. He hated hearing Edgeworth talk like this, so detached from it all as if he’d already come to terms with what he was saying. Still he couldn’t find his voice to reply. 

“Seeing her mourning like that -- I couldn’t do nothing after what I put you and others through,” he finished, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. After a moment, when Phoenix still didn’t answer, he added: “I warned you that this wouldn’t be fun for either of us.”

They tried to avoid the whole dying for a year thing, mostly because it just left them both miserable. They’d worked through the anger, and Edgeworth had done so much to prove he meant it when he said he was sorry for the way he went about distancing himself. Still, the grief that had taken hold of Phoenix that year was always with him, lying dormant, and he knew Edgeworth still thought about how Phoenix had insisted he hated him. 

They’d both left damage, but it was better to focus on all the ways they’d helped each other grow since then. 

Phoenix leaned back in his seat, looking out the window instead of at his friend. 

“You know you’ve made up for that a hundred times over,” he said quietly, thinking of those long years when he’d lost his badge. 

“I know,” came his answer, though Phoenix didn’t miss the omitted: but it still doesn’t feel like enough .

“Three more locks.”

“You should stop while you’re ahead.”

“I can’t.”

“You can, you're just ridiculously stubborn.”

“Maybe. So are you.”

Edgeworth grunted, apparently having no way of verbally denying that point. Phoenix offered the man a soft smile that was not returned, but he liked to think it put him at ease all the same. 

It seemed impossible there was still so much more to uncover and Phoenix found himself at a loss for where to start. He’d discovered that the Wilson case had left more of an impact on his friend than he’d thought, but that was so long ago and Amira really did seem to be healthier now. So why would Edgeworth still be keeping secrets so much later?

An insane notion hit him and he felt his entire body tense. 

“Wait. You don’t know who sent the note right?” he asked, and the look Edgeworth gave him would have been annoying if he weren’t so relieved. That, and he was a bit distracted by the stinging sensation that came with saying something incorrect while using the magatama.

“No, Wright,” he said, one brow raised in question and a subtle smirk playing at his lips. “I try not to make a habit of letting people who want me dead walk free.”

“Hardy har,” Phoenix deadpanned, crossing his arms, “It's not my fault you’re making my job difficult.”

“Considering that’s the basis of my entire profession, I think it’s safe to say you should have seen that one coming.”

Phoenix couldn’t fight down a large smile, which completely ruined his attempt to look irritated. Why did their back and forth have to be so nice ? Edgeworth would never admit it, but he could tell he was enjoying himself, too. There was a soft crinkle around his eyes, nearly hidden by his glasses, that revealed a hit of mischief in the chief prosecutor’s gaze. He looked young and relaxed in a way he never allowed himself to be at work, and considering how much the guy worked, that meant he almost never allowed it at all. 

Phoenix loved that expression. In some ways, it reminded him of the person he’d known as a child -- the one he got to call Miles -- but it was also very different. This man, the new Miles, had experienced more pain than most but had become stronger as a result. He was a version of Miles whose happiness didn’t come easily, but was working to be a bit more comfortable expressing it.

He was a Miles who was much taller than Phoenix remembered, with sharp features that matched his pointed gaze in the courtroom as a thousand thoughts flitted through his head. The one who had grown into that maturity he’d had since childhood and who Phoenix really wished would take off that stupid cravat off more often because he had a very nice neck--

Stop it , he scolded himself, blinking hard to shake that train of thought from his mind. Miles Edgeworth is off limits and that’s ok. Miles Edgeworth is a friend and nothing more and I won’t complain about that because he is a fantastic person to have a completely platonic relationship with.

It was a conscious effort to get his thoughts under control, especially as he noticed how close the two were.Thankfully the center console acted as a physical divider between them. When did I lean in this far? 

He moved back in the direction of the passenger side window, trying to be nonchalant and not like he’d just totally gone off the deep end. 

“So,” he started again, his voice scratchier than he would have liked. He cleared his throat and continued, “you definitely aren’t covering for whoever is writing you fan mail.”

Edgeworth snorted and Phoenix was getting very close to having an intense dad talk with his heart for literally skipping a beat.

“But that doesn’t mean this incident and the case aren’t connected,” he forced himself to continue. A frown replaced any humor left on Edgeworth’s face. Good, this was good. He could handle cranky Edgeworth. 

“That’s hardly a breakthrough, Wright. These two events are tied in almost every respect.”

He shook his head. “I don’t mean it like that. Yeah they’re connected in the literal sense, but whatever problem your having with me goes back to that case--”

“I don’t have a problem with you,” Edgeworth interrupted, sounding sincere enough that Phoenix was assured that he believed it, even if it wasn’t true. 

“You’ve been acting really weird. I mean, it’s one thing to not immediately let me know if your life is at risk -- still rude, but understandable -- but you went out of your way to keep me in the dark. That’s a lot, even by Edgeworth standards.”

“Edgeworth standards--” he sputtered, taken aback. Shaking his head, he decided to overlook Phoenix’s phrasing for now. “I--Wright, I told you that wasn’t personal. I simply thought it was unnecessary to involve you.”

“And you were lying, I know it. You were gripping your arm the way you do when you don’t like the direction a conversation is going,” Phoenix fired back, not missing a beat. He watched Edgeworth physically stop himself from doing the exact action he was referencing. That meant he was getting close. 

“Well then, Wright. You have all the information you need. You’ll either figure it out or you won’t, but I already told you I won’t help.”

What did he know? He knew Edgeworth hadn’t wanted him getting invested in all this and he knew that the case reminded him of their own situation all those years ago. What did Edgeworth think was going to happen if he found out?

He expected the truth to hit him like a truck (which, after being hit by a car, he wasn’t ecstatic about trying). Usually, breaking a lock would bring new knowledge to light that changed his whole perspective. 

When the answer popped into his head this time, it was more like he’d been so convinced he was looking for something huge that he missed what was right in front of him. 

It took a second to sink in, but when it did, he couldn’t help laughing once again. 

“You have to be kidding me, Edgeworth,” he said once he could stop sniggering long enough to speak. “You were worried about me, weren't you? That was what you were so insistent on me not knowing! You thought I’d see the same connection so you were trying to keep me away from a bunch of unpleasant memories. And then, you wouldn’t tell me why, because then I’d know you were being nice!”

He rubbed his face in disbelief, still grinning. Somehow, hiding that he cared about Phoenix was the third most important secret he had. And the best part was that Phoenix wasn’t even surprised. It was comforting that not all of the locks would be some gruesome classified piece of information. Some were just Edgeworth being Edgeworth. 

The relief didn’t last long. 

When he’d finally composed himself enough to look the other man in the eye he noticed that Edgeworth didn’t find this nearly as funny as he did. He didn’t even look angry or affronted the way Phoenix had expected. Instead, he was met with the sight of his friend about two shades paler than was normal, looking absolutely terrified. 

He was staring at Phoenix, wide eyed and tense. His hands were balled into fists, knuckles white. Wright was about to make sure he was alright, but Edgeworth spoke up before he had the chance.

“We’re done,” he announced, trying to sound stern but they both knew his voice was much quieter than was normal. “Whatever locks you are still seeing have nothing to do with our current predicament.”

“Edgeworth…” Phoenix reached out for one of the man’s shaking hands. Edgeworth pulled away before he had the chance.

“Put the stone away,” he ordered.

“We’re so close,” Wright answered, shaking his head. “Things will be easier if we just talk it out. I can’t fix whatever I did to make you so distant if you don’t tell me--”

“Wright,” Edgeworth cut in, cold and calculated, successfully putting a stop to Phoenix’s plea. Then, the resolve faded again, and the vulnerability left only made him feel worse. “Please. Don’t… don’t do this.”

He didn’t have a response to that. Phoenix could count on one hand the number of times he’d seen Edgeworth look so shaken, and half of those were the result of earthquake induced panic attacks. 

The idea that he had been the one to make Edgeworth so afraid reminded him of free falling from Dusky Bridge. It wasn’t a feeling he particularly enjoyed.

He didn’t even have to think about it. The magatama was already back in his pocket when he responded. 

“Of course,” Phoenix nodded, using all his self control to keep from trying to rub the worry lines from Edgeworth’s face. “Are you ok?”

The prosecutor took in a slow breath before nodding. Phoenix felt every muscle in his body relax. “I’m glad. Why don’t we get back to our investigation then?”

Edgeworth nodded again but hesitated as he reached for the ignition. 

“I…” he started a bit awkwardly, “Thank you, Wright. Truly--”

He was cut off a loud bang that shattered whatever peace they had found in the little parking lot. Everything happened too quickly. A noise, someone’s body against him, forcing him down towards the dashboard, Edgeworth’s voice. It took his brain a long while to catch up with it all.

He’d quickly come to realize that the noise he’d heard had been a gunshot, fired from a direction he couldn’t see or look for, because Edgeworth reacted faster than him. He shoved Wright out of direct sight of any of the windows with a frantic kind of haste before immediately sitting back upright and throwing the car into gear. The action was so quick Phoenix almost missed it. 

“Put on your seatbelt,” Edgeworth ordered as he pulled out of the lot at record speed. Phoenix found that a bit difficult to do while he was still curled in on himself, but once they were on the road he risked doing as he was told. 

No more shots were fired. Once he confirmed that the danger was gone, he allowed himself to breathe again, looking first to Edgeworth, who was miraculously unscathed and wholly focused on the road, then at the driver side window. Lodged in the glass right next to Edgeworth’s face, was the source of all their problems: a round, metal bullet.

“How…?” he questioned, because it was all he could manage.

“Bulletproof glass,” came his answer, Edgeworth’s voice heavy with effort. “Got it after Gant hid a body in my trunk. Thought some extra security was necessary.”

“Oh,” Phoenix said dumbly. Then, after a moment of silence: “You blocked me.”

“I did,” Edgeworth confirmed, not even looking his way, as if it meant nothing at all. “It was a lapse in judgement. It would have been smarter to immediately drive away.”

It was only then that Phoenix noticed the tremors going up and down the other man’s arms. A lapse in judgement, he called it. One that, in any other situation could have saved Phoenix’s life and spared Trucy the loss of another father. One that would have gotten the prosecutor killed in the process.

What could he even say to that?

“Thank you,” he settled on finally. It didn’t convey anything he wanted it to, but he couldn’t think of anything else.

“Of course.”

***

Back at the prosecutor’s office, the blood was still rushing in his ears.

Edgeworth hovered over his desk, phone in one hand as he relayed the events of their morning back to Gumshoe, who was back at the criminal affairs department. Aside from a strand of hair hanging loose from his usually pristine bangs, the target of the gunshot seemed unfazed. He explained what they’d gathered from Amira with an air of untouchable professionalism. Even as he divulged the attempt on his life, he never strayed from the facts. 

They would need more security at the office. The bullet should be extracted and tested for anything that might give them a lead. The parents and fiance of Julie Hendriks were to be contacted as soon as possible to confirm their whereabouts. 

That was standard Edgeworth behavior. When the going got tough, he threw himself into his work. Meanwhile, Phoenix was still stuck on the fact Miles had tried to shield him. What was that even about? To this day, Edgeworth recoiled at the sound of guns being fired -- an aftereffect of DL-6 -- and yet he had been the one to react first?

Wright didn’t know whether to thank him again or lecture him about using his own body to block bullets (he was no doctor but he was pretty sure that was not recommended). 

“I appreciate your concern, Detective, but I assure you both Wright and myself are unscathed. No, I’m not going to cut your pay for this. Detective. Detective, stop thanking me. The shooter , detective, we need to locate the shooter -- please refrain from any more distractions,” he heard Edgeworth say into the speaker. Knowing Gumshoe and the way the grey haired man was pinching the bridge of his nose, he gathered there was quite a bit of rambling coming from the other end of the line. “Yes, thank you. Goodbye, detective. Of course. Goodbye. Goodbye. Gumshoe, hang up the phone .”

Phoenix snickered as Edgeworth slammed the phone into the receiver, letting put an exasperated groan. 

His amusement didn’t last long. The close call had been a wake up call for just how serious the threat was--the knowledge of this hung heavy between them.

“Edgeworth,” he started after a brief silence, shifting his weight between his two feet, “There’s something that’s still bothering me.”

The other lawyer quirked an eyebrow, looking genuinely intrigued. He crossed the room to the front of his desk, leaning back against the warm brown wood and crossing one leg over the other. 

“Care to share with the rest of the class, Wright?”

Phoenix grimaced at the subtle jibe. It was hard to appreciate their banter right now, especially when it really should have been Edgeworth who was freaking out. The prosecutor’s calm in the face of the day’s chaos was starting to make him nervous. 

“We're looking for someone who’s upset with what came out during the trial, yeah?” he asked, although he already knew the answer. Edgeworth nodded at him to continue. “So why do they only want you dead?”

“Aside from my winning personality?” Edgeworth deadpanned. 

So now he makes jokes , Phoenix thought.

He ignored the other man’s pointed sarcasm. “I was the defense for that case. I was the one who proved it was a suicide. Whoever this is should have been gunning me down in the streets, too, but that shot was obviously aimed at you.”

Edgeworth grimaced at his phrasing, but the point wasn’t lost on him. 

“That… That is a surprisingly good point.”

“You do keep me around for more than my good looks, you know.”

That earned him another scowl, and for a moment the tension in the room seemed to wain. 

Unfortunately, they wouldn’t get answers from teasing each other, and neither of them seemed to have a good explanation for their attacker’s odd behavior. As things were, Edgeworth couldn’t leave the office again and Phoenix would be damned if he was gonna abandon his friend now. So, he hovered awkwardly in the middle of the chief prosecutor’s office, looking at anything but the owner. 

Edgeworth still had those dumb chess pieces that looked at him. Some things never changed.

“You can leave, Wright,” Edgeworth’s voice broke through the silence. “In fact, you probably should. My company has nearly gotten you shot once today and it’s not even noon.”

That was enough to grab Phoenix’s attention, eyes snapping back up to their steel counterpart. 

“I’m not going anywhere, Edgeworth,” he replied, insulted that he would even ask. Here he’d thought they were making progress, but, in classic Edgeworth fashion, the man insisted on putting more distance between them. Phoenix felt his fists clench, a fresh wave of irritation flowing through him. 

He forced his muscles to relax. Now wasn’t the time to wonder why Edgeworth still didn’t trust him. They needed to focus on a way to keep him safe until they had even a hint of a lead. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” he repeated again slowly. The way Edgeworth’s eyes narrowed told him that answer wasn’t what he wanted to hear, but he ignored it. A shadow of a plan was starting to form, as much as the idea made him squirm. “But you could.”

“Considering what happened last time I left the office, that seems like a poor idea.”

Phoenix let out a heavy sigh. He couldn’t believe what he was about to suggest -- after he’d only just gotten Edgeworth back in the country for good, too. Finally, the most important people in his life were gathered in one place, and here he was, about to argue for another period of separation. 

“Let’s look at the facts. Someone wants you dead and has already tried to kill you once. We still have no idea how they got access to your office, so leaving you alone here is out of the question -- not to mention your house needs fifty officers assigned to it if you intend on going home. Whoever we're up against, they’re dangerous, and we don’t know anything about them.”

Edgeworth adjusted his glasses, unamused. Phoenix continued before he could be told to get to the point.

“Right now, you staying in LA is really risky. Even if we knew who we were looking for, there’s no telling how long it’d take to apprehend them. Maybe you should consider buying the police some time by going somewhere it’d be hard for your attacker to follow. You still have connections in Germany, yeah?”

As he spoke, Edgeworth’s expression soured, his brows tipping downward behind the frame of glasses. Phoenix took a small step back, trying to put some space between himself and that glare. 

“Wright,” Edgeworth said, straightening, “I’m the chief prosecutor. I can’t just leave the country on a whim.”

“You’ve worked from overseas before,” he argued

“Yes, on trips that were scheduled months in advance and had a clear end date.”

“I know it’s not ideal, but you’d get more done in Europe than you would if you end up in the ER or worse.”

“This is a waste of time. My answer is no.”

Phoenix bristled, the sound of a gun being fired at them still ringing in his mind. Did Edgeworth think he wanted this? Because he didn’t! At all! But he was way too important to be risking his life this way, especially if there was another option. Sure, it was a bit extreme, but he’d rather be safe than sorry. The justice system needed Miles Edgeworth alive. 

Phoenix needed Miles Edgeworth alive.

“Would you quit being so damn prideful for two seconds and actually think this through?” Phoenix snapped, waving a hand through the air in front of him. “I get you don’t want to do this, but you can’t just wait around for this guy to finish the job!”

The rational part of his brain said he needed to stop getting in screaming matches in Edgeworth’s office, but he didn’t back down, even when Edgeworth took another step towards him, nostrils flared in barely controlled anger. 

“It isn’t a matter of what I want ,” Edgeworth said, voice low and dangerous. His body had gone completely still. “I can’t leave now. It’s out of the question, so drop it.”

“Why?” Phoenix demanded. He was so tired of all these cryptic explanations. He was tired of trying to respect the hurdles Edgeworth had put between them. They’d been through so much together so why the fuck couldn’t they have a single conversation that didn’t come back to Phoenix being turned away. 

“Because I--” he faltered, eyes widening suddenly, as if he’d nearly said something he would regret. Phoenix would have killed to know what he’d almost let slip. What else was new, though? When it came to Edgeworth he always found himself wanting, and he was always left disappointed. Edgeworth swallowed and some of the irritation in his stature was replaced by anxiety. “Because-- Because I promised your daughter I would attend her show this weekend.”

“And you say my bluffs are obvious. I can tell you with one hundred percent certainty Trucy would rather have you miss a couple of her magic tricks than hunted for sport.”

Edgeworth’s grey eyes hardened over. “It isn’t a lie, Wright.”

Phoenix wanted to point out how ridiculous that sounded, but two things happened to change his mind. 

First, Edgeworth spoke with the conviction he did when he was talking about reforming the justice system or finding the truth. It was the kind of unwavering passion that made Phoenix’s heartbeat increase in his chest, even if the man was only talking about going to his kid’s magic show. Especially when it was about his kid’s magic show, actually.

Second, the room in front of him faded, just slightly, and the colors around him became duller and more difficult to distinguish. Phoenix hadn't touched the magatama since their talk in Edgeworth’s car, but he could have sworn he saw the faint outline of two locks. One of them was trembling. 

It wasn’t a lie, Edgeworth had said, but those locks told him it wasn’t the whole truth either.

Phoenix couldn’t tell if Edgeworth knew the reason for his sudden lack of response--he’d always been good at noticing when the magatama was in play--but either way it didn’t seem to matter. The determination from his voice was written all over his face.

“It’s my choice to make,” he said, mouth set in a thin line, “and I’ve chosen not to run. I’ve had enough of that for one lifetime.”

At first, Phoenix didn’t understand. It didn’t help that Edgeworth was practically on top of him now, smelling like green tea and expensive detergent. His brain had to play catch up.

Then, it all made sense at once, which somehow only made him more confused.

“Miles,” he said the name with a tenderness he hadn't intended, but he couldn’t take it back now. “This… this isn’t like that. For starters, it was my idea, not yours. And you’d be back soon.”

Apparently that wasn’t the right answer, because Miles’ shoulders fell slightly and he moved back, putting a space between them that Phoenix was very much against. 

“That isn’t the point,” he said with a heavy sigh, no longer meeting Phoenix’s eyes. “Things have changed. I’ve changed. I can’t go to Germany now, and that’s the end of it.”

The way he spoke… Phoenix felt something stir in him, timid, but present all the same. He knew better than to name it, but the word hope entered his thoughts all the same. 

Before he could think better of it, he’d taken hold of Miles’ wrist, gently tugging at it as the other man turned to move farther away. The reaction he got nearly made his entire body shut down. Wide, grey eyes gaped back at him, lips parted as if to say something but no sound came. And, most importantly, he noted that Miles made no move to pull himself free. 

“What changed, Miles?” he asked, voice somehow managing to be both hesitant and insistent at the same time. 

Miles couldn’t meet his gaze any longer, his eyes falling to their interlocked hands.

“Phoenix…”

The use of his first name nearly shocked him from his body. Every now and then, Phoenix would throw a “Miles” into their conversations, if for no reason other than to see the man’s reaction. But Miles was much more sparse with his given name. When had he last heard that name on those lips?

Probably way back when he lost his badge. 

“What changed?” he asked again, more desperate this time.

There was a pause that seemed to last years. Then, quietly enough that Phoenix almost missed it: “You did.”

In the back of his head, he heard a lock crack open, but he was much more focused on the man in front of him, flushed red. 

“When you were disbarred, I couldn’t come home,” Miles said, brows drawn together. “There was too much to be done in Europe, and I knew I would be useless here without first solidifying my influence overseas. Looking back, I should have come home, anyway. I should have done something . I should have… Well it hardly matters now. I came to the conclusion that the fastest way to get your redemption and put an end to the dark age of law was to stay put, but in turn I made a promise to myself.”

Seeing Miles look so at war with himself sent a pang through Phoenix’s chest. There was so much to say to that and he found himself overwhelmed with the options. Did he insist that he made the right decision? Did he point out how he’d never been useless and that it was his support that helped him through that dark time in his life? Did he simply brush it aside, and insist they put it all behind them?

Thankfully, he never had to decide. It seemed that now that Miles had begun, he didn’t intend to stop. 

“Being so far away was unbearable, but the decision I made then made it manageable,” he continued, bangs obscuring his face. “I kept telling myself that when I did come home, it would be for good. My resolve only strengthened when you would fly out with Trucy to help with a case. Aside from Franziska, it became clear the important people in my life were in the states, so, when all was said and done, I took my place back at the LA prosecutor’s office for good.”

A ghost of a smile tugged at Miles’ lips as he spoke of their Wright Family Vacations to Europe, apparently reminiscing on those quiet days on the cold streets of Berlin. 

Phoenix found himself in a similar state, thinking back to the way Miles and Trucy had instantly hit it off, despite appearing so different, and the limitless generosity the man had been willing to offer them even after Phoenix got his badge back.

“So, when you moved back here, and you insisted on picking up checks wherever we went or found Trucy venues for her shows…”

“It doesn’t make up for lost time,” Miles shrugged, “but I tried. It isn’t much, but it’s all I can offer.”

“ Isn’t much --” Phoenix sputtered, struggling to even process something so incorrect. “Miles I’ve been trying to repay the favor for years now! I was starting to think you didn’t want my help!”

Now Miles looked as incredulous as Phoenix felt. 

“Did you forget that you saved my life? You’ve done more than enough, Phoenix.”

“Miles, I was doing my job.”

Miles scoffed and rolled his eyes. “We both know it was much more than that.”

“Ok, fine,” Phoenix conceded, shaking his head. “Even if you’re right, I’m pretty sure we’re at least even now, so I’m officially retiring that excuse.”

“Objection,” Miles retorted, the smile back and much more pronounced now. “Who gave you the authority to retire my excuses?”

“I did, right after I made myself the Judge of this trial. Objection overruled,” he shot back, feeling rather smug about the snort he got in response. 

“How convenient.”

Phoenix shrugged, not at all ashamed. His eyes flicked down to their still intertwined hands, and he felt his face heat up. The thoughts he’d been trying to keep at bay all day were flooding back into his mind. The warmth of Miles’ palm against his along with the man’s smell (which he decided he was a very big fan of) had smashed through the dam he’d built for all the feelings he had that weren’t strictly platonic. 

A few strands of hair were still hanging loose from where Miles had no doubt styled them this morning. With his free hand, Phoenix brushed them back into place, his thumb gently grazing the other man’s forehead. 

He froze when he realized what exactly he was doing. This was not ‘good friend who definitely didn’t secretly want to be more’ behavior. He swallowed and forced himself to look at Miles for a reaction. 

Whatever Phoenix had been expecting, it wasn’t the expression of resolve that met him. It was the same way he’d looked only a few minutes earlier, just before the fourth lock broke. Phoenix tried not to think about how attractive it made him look as he fumbled for an excuse.

“Edgeworth--”

Whatever bluff he was about to hide behind was cut off as a pair of lips collided with his own. There was another crack as the last lock opened, but Phoenix was far too preoccupied to think about it too much.

He’d imagined this moment a thousand times over the years late at night, when he allowed himself to indulge in fantasies that he knew would never come to fruition. None of those instances held a candle to the real thing. 

It was short, a hesitant moment of contact, that made Phoenix’s stomach flip. Despite it’s briefness it was unbelievably tender in a way that made him want to enjoy the feeling for the rest of his life. 

Instinct took over the moment Edgeworth attempted to retreat, awaiting the answer to his silent question. Phoenix didn’t have any words in that moment, however. All he could think of was the years of yearning he’d kept buried deep inside himself that was rising within him now. After getting a taste of what he’d dreamed of for so long, it felt impossible to go back. He didn’t want to go back.

Phoenix was chasing Edgeworth forward before he could doubt himself, ready to remedy how painfully short the first kiss had been with another.

His eyes had fluttered shut upon impact, more out of habit than anything else, but even in his self induced darkness his senses were overwhelmed. Edgeworth’s glasses must have gotten knocked out of place because Phoenix could feel his long lashes brush against his cheek. There was a pressure at his back, too, as Miles’ body pushed back against him, which he could only assume was the far wall of the office. Even without it, he was cornered in the best way possible. With one hand lodged into his hair and the other flat against his chest, Miles’ touch had rid his mind of any plan to move -- not that he would have wanted to, anyway. 

Miles’ lips were chapped in a way Phoenix had never expected. Everything about him was always so pristine that the little quirks and imperfections made his knees weak with the knowledge of how real all of this was.

The kiss was hungry, desperate even, as if Miles’s thought Phoenix would disappear the moment it was over. He understood and kissed back with the same ferocity. That had always been his same fear when it came to his feelings for Miles: that everything would fall apart in the aftermath. Now that he knew how much they both wanted this, though, Phoenix had no intention of going anywhere.

His own mouth moved against Miles’ in a nearly frantic dance, but the way the fingers grasping his hair tightened encouraged him to indulge further. He slipped a hand around Mile’s waist and pulled him even closer, the other man’s body unbelievably solid beneath his palm. The other sought out his partner’s jaw, savoring in the sliver of bare skin it found on his neck. 

A moan ripped from his throat, a low sound that Phoenix didn’t have any intention of making. Before he could make himself care enough to be properly embarrassed, the hand against his chest pushed harder against him so he was flat against the wall. 

Every movement that passed was punctuated with the kind of need that could only be developed after years of back and forth. Each kiss was simultaneously a recognition of every almost confession and an ode to lost time. 

Phoenix didn’t want to stop. He wanted to stay in this moment forever and enjoy this sloppy, frantic, perfect kiss that should have come so much earlier and juggling by how tightly Miles was clinging to him, he was happy to cooperate. A small voice in the back of his brain reminded him they would need to come up for breath at some point, but he couldn’t bring himself to listen. Not when Miles fucking Edgeworth was kissing him as if he’d been waiting to do it since the fourth grade. 

In the end, it wasn’t a need for air that pulled them apart, but instead a loud ringing sound that startled them both. 

Miles jumped backwards at the same time Phoenix’s eyes snapped open, searching for the source of the offending noise. He noted with smug satisfaction that Miles’ lips were swollen and his cheeks were about five shades darker red than usual, not that his own face looked much better. 

Their gaze landed on the office telephone at the same time. Rather than immediately going to answer it, Miles looked back at him with an expression of nervous uncertainty written across his face. What he could possibly be uncertain of now, Phoenix wasn’t sure, but he really hoped he would stop looking at him like that soon or he’d have no choice but to kiss him senseless. 

To Phoenix’s great relief (and, perhaps, disappointment) Miles went to grab the call a moment later. The ringing immediately stopped. 

“Chief Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth speaking,” Miles winced when he heard how hoarse his voice was. Phoenix tried to suppress a snicker, but was not as successful as he hoped based on the glare the other man shot him.

“I… pardon me?” he said into the speaker, going even more red as he ran a hand down his face. “My apologies, detective, I find myself a bit… distracted. Could you repeat that?”

There was a pause as Gumshoe presumably explained once again. Phoenix watched intently as Miles’ eyes went wide and he grabbed for a piece of paper to jot down notes on. 

“And you’re sure the plane ticket was never actually used? In that case, I believe I owe you my thanks. Keep looking into Mr. McGraw and let me know if you uncover anything that may be of use. Phoenix and I will look over the court records in my office… Yes, er, that is Wright’s first name. We’ll speak again soon, detective.”

As Miles hung up the phone, Phoenix couldn’t decide whether to be amused or curious. It seemed his friend was in a similar predicament, looking both mortified and relieved. 

“According to Gumshoe, Nate McGraw never actually got on the plane to leave the states,” Miles said, redirecting his attention back at Phoenix. Apparently he’d decided his best bet was to pretend he hadn’t, in fact, called him by his first name to Gumshoe. Phoenix smirked in a way that made it clear he would definitely be teasing him for that later. 

“Nate McGraw…” he repeated, his brain still a bit fuzzy. Making out with your best friend in his office had that effect on people, he supposed. He’d heard that name before--

“Wait, the fiance?” Phoenix exclaimed, finally catching up. “I almost forgot you were still in the middle of your own The Most Dangerous Game situation here.”

Miles frowned at him, but it was hard to take him seriously when he was still the color of one of Trucy’s old hats. 

“Yes, the fiance,” he deadpanned. “All things considered I think it’s safe to say we found our shooter. However, that still doesn’t give us any clues as to where he is.”

The relief and joy that had taken over his mind were brief as he processed what Miles was saying. It had felt like everything had changed, but now Phoenix was realizing just how much stayed the same. His heart wouldn’t stop fluttering with new hope at a future with Miles, but his mind reminded him that hope wouldn’t do much for them if the man he loved was dead. 

At least they knew what they were looking for, right? That had to count for something. Then again, he’d seen plenty of cases where the criminal was able to avoid the police for months, even years, and if McGraw had stayed unnoticed so far, he must have a knack for hiding. 

“I still don’t get it,” Phoenix said, shaking his head as his shoulders slumped in defeat. “Why you? If he’s going to blame someone, it should be me.”

A small, soft smile spread across Miles’ face as he walked back towards his friend. He placed his hands on Phoenix’s shoulders, trying to comfort him but unable to completely hide the sadness in his own expression. It felt awfully cruel that even now that they’d finally gotten the courage to confess, things were still uncertain.

“It’s true that you proved the nature of Ms. Hendriks passing,” he answered, “but before that, I provided evidence that his engagement was a farce. That was the source of his anger, I think. What came next only rubbed salt in the wound.”

Phoenix recalled the expression on McGraw’s face when Miles had submitted the love letters to the court record. He’d been completely frozen with shock. Phoenix hadn’t watched closely enough to see the surprise turn to anger.

“So he rejected the verdict, because that would mean accepting Amira and Julie’s relationship,” Phoenix continued for him, things finally beginning to make sense, “And now he wants revenge.”

Miles made a noise of affirmation, but it was cut short as Phoenix pulled him into a tight embrace. 

“I’m getting really tired of close calls, Miles.”

His words were muffled as he spoke into the curve of the other man’s neck, but Miles seemed to understand. 

“I know. I feel the same.”

Inhaling deeply and cherishing the scent, Phoenix glanced up slightly, his eyes caught on the blue sky shining through the window. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky, and the sun was shining brightly as morning gave way to afternoon. It would have been a perfect day to go out for lunch with his friend. Maybe he would have even been bold enough to call it a date. 

Instead, they were stuck here until they found a way to keep Miles safe. And that might just mean sending him to another country right after they’d finally taken a step towards being more than just partners in law. 

Well, at least the view was nice. Usually it was somewhat obscured when the sun hit the window by all the smudges and dust on the outer side of the glass. Miles was always complaining about how unprofessional it looked and--

“Miles?” he shot upright, pulling back so he could look the other man in the eyes.

The grey haired man looked startled, brows furrowing beneath his lopsided glasses.

“Yes?”

“Did you get your windows cleaned?”

“Did I- What?”

Phoenix didn’t wait to explain. Instead he moved towards the wall directly behind Miles’ desk and gave the center panel of glass a gentle push. 

As expected, it gave way slightly so that a light breeze could get in. A lot of the older buildings in the area were designed so the windows would open just a tad -- Gatewater hotel was the same way. 

It wasn’t a large enough gap that someone could fit through, but it was certainly enough to allow someone to slip a note onto the nearby desk. 

“The latch is undone,” he started again, turning back to Edgeworth and making an elaborate hand gesture at the glass. “That’s how he got into the office without being caught on camera. Or more like that’s how the note got in.”

Miles still looked lost as he stammered a response.

“Phoenix this is the top floo--” he stopped abruptly, understanding shooting across his face. “McGraw worked for a window cleaning company before the trial -- he stated as much in his testimony -- and I’ve been badgering my secretary to get an appointment set up to get the glass cleaned. I didn’t follow up with when it was scheduled but--”

“-- If it was yesterday we find out who she hired we could trace them back to McGraw!” Phoenix finished, resisting the urge to slam his hand against the desk. Although his enthusiasm was less prominent, Phoenix could tell that the gears in Miles’ brain were hard at work, too.

“I’ll call Isabelle for the details and then report it to Detective Gumshoe,” he stated, already moving towards the phone. 

It took some time to get everything in order, and Phoenix tried to help how he could, but mostly the two of them just had to wait. The anticipation between them was electric as they waited for an update from the police, between Miles’ pacing and Phoenix’s constant rambling. They talked some, but not about the kiss. Both seemed to have decided to put it on hold until they could be sure Miles wouldn’t have to go into hiding.

Still, it wasn’t awkward. After so much time spent waiting, the verbal confirmation of mutual feelings could be put off a bit longer.

When the office phone rang a second time, Miles nearly tripped over the carpet trying to get to it and Phoenix wasn’t far behind. 

“Detective,” Miles greeted, sounding much more professional than he looked with his glasses slanted and his hair a mess, “I trust you have news?”

There was an extended pause where it took all of Phoenix’s self control not to yell at Miles to put the call on speaker. He tried to gage whether it was good or bad news by Miles’ face, but his expression remained neutral in typical Edgeworth fashion. He made a few noises of affirmation throughout the call but was almost entirely silent until the end.

“...Thank you for letting me know. Your work on this case will be noted during your next performance evaluation. We’ll talk again soon, detective.”

There was a soft click as Miles’ hung up the phone one last time. 

Phoenix saw Miles’ eyes rise to meet his and waited for an explanation. After a moment of nervous expectation that was met with no answer, he prompted: “Well? Did they find him?”

“The police arrived at the window cleaning agency we hired not long after I called,” Miles started, hesitantly, and it took all of Phoenix’s remaining patience not to demand he get to the point. “They showed the owner a photo of McGraw and were informed that he was, in fact, working there under a pseudonym.”

He adjusted his glasses before continuing.

“Mr. McGraw arrived back at the agency about twenty minutes later, and thanks to Gumshoe’s uncharacteristically competent decision to take undercover vehicles rather than police cars, he wasn’t alerted to their presence until it was too late. He’s in custody now and a confession was acquired immediately after his arrest.”

Phoenix stood frozen for a moment as a rush of relief flooded through him all at once. Miles gave him a curious look, still appearing a bit apprehensive, and began to say something. He was cut off before getting a word out as Phoenix tackled him. 

A small oof escaped his friend as Phoenix wrapped him in a tight embrace. The two stumbled slightly, but Miles was able to keep them upright even as his entire body went stiff. When it became evident that Phoenix had no intention of letting go, the taller man slowly relaxed and returned the hug. 

“Miles Edgeworth,” Phoenix began, his attempt to sound stern deterred the grin in his voice, “It’s time you took you lunch.”

“Wha-” Phoenix could hear the confusion in his voice without having to look at his face. “Wright, do you have any idea how much work I’ve missed out on this morning? I’ll have to work through lunch and still stay overtime to get caught up!”

Phoenix pulled back, now holding Miles’ shoulder at arms length as he frowned. 

“You honestly think you're gonna get away with kissing me and not have to take me out for a proper meal?” he scolded, though he couldn’t keep the teasing tone from his words. “What kind of man do you take me for?”

The flush returned to Miles’ face full force as he sputtered a reply.

“Ah-- Well-- In regards-- Rather, what I mean to say is--” he rambled, looking anywhere but Phoenix. “I recognize my behavior was rash and… unprofessional, s-so it is pertinent I make it clear that your rejection of my, uh, actions, is completely understa--”

Grabbing him by the cravat and pulling him forward, Phoenix placed another kiss to the corner of the prosecutor’s mouth. Hearing Miles talk that way when he knew Phoenix shared his feelings was the last straw. He had no choice but to submit him to an array of affection until Miles’ stubborn mind would process that there was no way he was getting off the hook that easily. 

A loud grumble from his own stomach cut the action short. 

Ok, slight adjustment to the plan: eat first, kiss every inch of Edgeworth’s stupid pretty face later. 

He moved backwards just enough to smile sheepishly at Miles, who was blinking twice as much as usual. He took the man’s hand in his own and gave it a quick squeeze.

“So as much as I’d like to continue that, I wasn’t kidding about lunch. I think my gut is trying to digest itself.”

Slowly, as if Phoenix’s words had only just started to make sense, a small subtle smile began to form on the prosecutor’s lips. He squeezed Phoenix’s hand in return as he spoke.

“Gavin mentioned a new Italian place opened up not far from here. I’ve been looking for an excuse to stop by.”

“It’s a good thing I make such a solid excuse, then,” Phoenix beamed, feeling as if he might burst with happiness.

A soft laugh escaped Miles as they left the office, the way they’d done a hundred times before. Then again, this was different, wasn’t it? 

Phoenix had never been allowed to intertwine his fingers with the chief prosecutor’s like this in the past, and he had to admit: the warmth against his palm was definitely something he could get used to.