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The trial has ended. Kristoph Gavin has been arrested. He is finally free. He should be happy, but instead he just feels numb. He is just tired. So fucking tired. He hates how far Kristoph had pushed him. Hates the bloody ace that earned him his freedom from prison and from the man.
Those last seven years had been hell. Playing the long game. Trying to find all the answers, working on reforming the legal system, gathering evidence on Kristoph. For seven years he orbited around him, tried to get closer and closer while still keeping him out of his home, away from Trucy. He had given up so much to him. So much all for the hope that it might be enough to get rid of him one day.
But Kristoph was good. He was good and even after seven long years, Phoenix still didn’t have the evidence he needed. And apparently Kristoph had gotten tired of waiting. He rushed to the end of their game and Phoenix was left with no choices.
He hoped, dear god, did he hope for it to not be needed. But he couldn’t leave Trucy. And he needed Kristoph behind bars. He couldn’t let this go on for any longer. If Kristoph hadn’t ended up in jail after the trial, everything would have been lost. And so Phoenix had forged evidence.
He welcomes Apollo’s punch. He knows he deserves it and even much more than that. He hopes Apollo will come to their office anyway. For Trucy.
Then he is finally home. Home with Trucy and free from spying and manipulations. He eats dinner with Trucy and wishes her goodnight and then just sits on the sofa staring straight ahead. Numb.
His phone starts ringing. He glances at the caller ID. It’s Miles. Fuck.
He should have known, should have expected this. He kind of did. But that doesn’t mean that he is ready. He could handle Apollo’s punch, but this?
He lets it ring. Hopefully he’d give up.
The phone is silent for a moment and then starts ringing again. Then for the third time. He can’t avoid this. He picks up.
“Wright.”
Any last hope, that maybe he didn’t know, that maybe he hadn’t watched the trial, disappears. He knew.
“Edgeworth,” he greets back.
“I watched the trial.”
“I figured you would.” Phoenix forces himself to sound casual. Like his whole world isn’t about to fall apart. Inside he is begging for mercy. Begging Miles to let it go, to not speak about it.
“Wright, I need to know-“
Of course he won’t let it go. Can’t let it go. Phoenix understands. That doesn’t mean that he will make it easy for him.
“What?” he interrupts, brazenly. It is pointless. All it does is that it gives him just a few more seconds before the inevitable and annoys Miles. He does it anyway.
“Wright, you know what I’m talking about.”
Predictably, Edgeworth is irritated. He wants to get an answer as soon as possible. Well Phoenix isn’t going to cooperate.
“Unfortunately, I’m not a mind reader. My undefeated streak in poker is simply a result of my skill.” He hopes that maybe if he is difficult enough, Miles will just give up. Won’t want to say it clearly. It is a foolish hope, he knows.
“I want to know if the ace was forged.”
And there it is. There’s no turning back now. He knew from the moment that he decided on this course of action what he was losing. That doesn’t mean that it hurts any less.
There is silence between them for a moment. A heavy silence filled with thousands of unspoken words and emotions.
“What do you think?” he finally replies.
That used to be his reply whenever anyone asked him about the incident seven years ago. He grew tired of trying to explain himself. He didn’t want to face their doubts, didn’t want to deal with the silent distrust. And so he let them make their own conclusions, let them believe whatever they wanted. He just didn’t bother with them.
He remembers the few incidents when people approached them when they were together. Phoenix always gave them the same answer, but Edgeworth always jumped to his defense. He destroyed them with arguments and protected Phoenix’s honor. Phoenix made fun of him for it, said that Edgeworth cared more about Phoenix’s reputation than Phoenix himself. Edgeworth would go red with embarrassment, but the next time, he would do it all again.
‘Would you jump to my defense now?’ is what his answer is asking.
He knows he’s being cruel. Back then, he was innocent. There was reason to defend him. Now there isn’t and yet he is still asking Edgeworth to give up his sense of justice, his sensibility, to throw it all away and just blindly believe in him like he did seven years ago.
“Wright, that’s not fair. You have no right to throw this in my face when you’re the one who-”
Edgeworth is understandably upset. He should apologize. He should at least try to fix this even if it seems impossible.
“The one who what?” he asks instead. He’s goading him. Wants him to say it. It’s too late to go back now, and Phoenix morbidly wants to hear the whole thing. Wants to be able to put Edgeworth on the same level as the reporters who came and harassed him for information.
Edgeworth refuses to answer.
“The one who what? Go on, tell me what you think of me.”
He’s being an ass. He can’t seem to stop.
“Wright, please- just tell me the truth.”
He sounds so sad. Phoenix wishes that he could fix this. Somehow. Anyhow.
There isn’t a way. Phoenix gives up.
“Fine. Yes, it was forged. Are you happy now?!” he bursts out. He feels tears sliding down his cheek.
“Phoenix, why didn’t you tell me? We would have figured something out. Anything would be better than this.”
There is the chasm between them. They used to be on the same level. Think about things the same way. But after the seven long years spent with Kristoph, after seeing Trucy cry when she visited him in prison, terrified that he would leave just like Shadi Enigmar, after everything that had happened, he can’t regret what he had done. He can hate it, hate himself, but he won’t regret it.
He understands why Miles can’t think like this. After von Karma, after Lana and Gant. He understands and he knows that Miles understands too. They understand each other and where they’re coming from, but they just can’t agree.
There’s silence again.
“Good luck with the Jurist system, the test trial should be able to happen soon enough,” Miles is the one that finally breaks the silence.
“Thank you for everything, Miles.” Phoenix fights with himself for a moment and then, because it might very well be the last time they speak, adds: “I love you.”
It’s quiet again.
Finally Miles speaks and he sounds so infinitely sad. “For what it’s worth, I really did love you too.”
Phoenix begins crying in earnest. All the facades and masks and barriers around his heart breaking down. It hurts. It hurts much more than chewing glass or getting hit by a fire extinguisher or falling into a freezing river.
“Goodbye Miles,” he somehow manages to choke through the tears.
“Goodbye Phoenix Wright.”
And then the phone clicks and there’s silence.