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Everyone was at the Gatewater Hotel.
Everyone was celebrating.
Everyone was fine.
And then Phoenix sat down with a plate piled high with food, which he wasn’t sure how he was even going to eat after barely consuming anything in three days, and then Phoenix looked up and glanced around, and then Phoenix realized he couldn’t see Maya anymore.
He pushed back from the table and leapt to his feet. Will Powers, next to him, huffed something in surprise, but Phoenix’s ears were ringing too loudly to discern what he said. He stumbled sideways, and someone grabbed his shoulder, but he shook the hand away and scanned Viola Hall, gaze desperately flicking between Pearl and Edgeworth and Gumshoe and where was she where was she where was she where-
Maya.
She was over by the buffet, eagerly grasping for handfuls of chocolate bonbons on the dessert table and trying to get them to fit onto her already stuffed plate. From where he’d sat at the table, Gumshoe’s broad frame had been completely blocking her.
Phoenix’s shoulders sagged. Relief flooded him and made his head spin but even as he returned to the table his heart was still pounding high and sharp in his temples. He gripped the back of his chair and stared at his plate of food through blurry eyes and couldn’t bring himself to sit back down. He had to get out of here. He couldn’t let anyone see him like this—what if Pearl asked him what was wrong? What if Maya did?
Phoenix babbled some excuse about heading to the bathroom and was amazed by his own voice, which felt like someone else speaking from about three thousand miles away. He shoved through the side doors of Viola Hall and started running.
Of course, this led him to The Hallway. The Hallway of the crime, where Shelley De Killer had snuck in and killed Juan, where Engarde had first been arrested, where this whole hellish nightmare had begun.
Bile rose in Phoenix’s throat. He took a sharp corner into the bathroom and heaved up the little he’d eaten that day: a few bites from the buffet, a granola bar that had replaced his breakfast. If he’d hoped that would be enough to clear his head, he was once again wrong: Phoenix shook against the edge of the toilet, retching emptily and fighting dark spots in his vision.
Breathe. He had to breathe.
He needed to get outside. There was no air in this cursed murder hotel, it was all tainted with blood and fear. Somewhere in that building was the hallway where Shelley De Killer had crept up upon Maya and knocked her out and dragged her unconscious body away. Phoenix couldn’t be here anymore.
He swiped the back of his hand across his mouth and stumbled to his feet, taking off at a run down the hall, leaving Engarde and Juan’s hotel rooms far behind him.
He ran until his lungs heaved worse than ever, until his legs felt like they were going to give out, and still he was just in a maze of corridors and hotel rooms and hallways. He knew he’d backtracked a few times; he’d seen this hallway before, but there was nothing he could do about it. He didn’t know how to get out.
He began trying doors. Maybe if he could just get out of this hallway he could break the maze he was trapped in.
Finally, Phoenix twisted a handle that moved and burst into some sort of conference room. Through blurry eyes he made out a few round tables, a projection screen, an empty coffee bar, several windows. He doubled over, gagging around nothing but the faint taste of blood in the back of his throat, then stumbled over to a window.
It was locked. He couldn’t push it up. Phoenix slammed his hands onto the glass so hard he felt it up to his shoulders, panic swirling his mind. He just needed air. He just needed to breathe.
He reached for a chair, yanked it up with trembling arms, and prepared to throw it at a window.
“Wright!”
Phoenix dropped the chair in surprise and spun around, eyes wild. Edgeworth was in the doorway, slightly out of breath, staring at Phoenix in alarm. “What are you doing?” he gaped. “Were you about to break a window?”
Phoenix stared around for some way to escape. Of all the people to find him…
He’d been doing his best to compartmentalize over the past couple of days. Not well, by any means, but he’d been trying. Maya’s situation was enough for him to grapple with. Edgeworth was a whole other can of worms.
“Go away,” Phoenix panted, trying not to visibly shake. He’d already shown way too much vulnerability in front of this man. In the last two days, but also before. And what had Edgeworth done? He’d taken everything Phoenix had given him, all of his heart, his hope, his trust… and he’d just thrown it away. He’d faked his own death and left Phoenix to suffer. And sure, he’d given his reasons. Phoenix understood why he’d had to leave. But fake his own death? And not loop Phoenix in? He conveniently avoided justifying that whole side of things.
“I-” Edgeworth’s jaw spasmed, so tight it looked ready to crack. He half turned, then his hands fisted and he spun back around. “No. I’m not going to leave.”
“Oh, well that’s a change,” Phoenix snapped. The words surprised even him. He wasn’t used to being the one to try and push Edgeworth away.
Edgeworth’s face spasmed again, but he took a determined step forward. “Wright, I’ll leave you alone the moment I know you’re in a calm, rational state of mind.”
“I can’t get to a calm, rational state of mind if you’re here!” Phoenix yelled, giving the chair a shove. He drove his hands through his hair, dragging in a ragged breath. This was too much too much too much-
“Then- then- perhaps I should get Miss Fey instead-?”
“No!” Phoenix shouted, a hand shooting out as if he were about to grab Edgeworth and physically stop him from leaving. “No. No. You are not going to bother Maya about this.”
He could practically see the way Maya’s face would fall if she realized what a state he was in. The way she would blame herself for getting into such a mess, a mess that had driven Phoenix to the absolute brink, driven him to reevaluate everything he thought to be true about himself, his morality, his vocation.
“Then…” Edgeworth genuinely looked at a loss. “Perhaps Detective Gumshoe?”
Phoenix stared at him incredulously, head spinning, but just then his legs gave out. He grasped onto the chair he’d been about to toss through the window, but it was just a simple metal folding chair so he ended up taking it down with him.
“Wright!” Edgeworth exclaimed, rushing forward. Phoenix curled away from him, tucking into a ball. He needed Miles to leave. He didn’t want to be seen like this. They’d won. They’d come out on top. He wasn’t supposed to be falling apart.
“Go…” Phoenix tried to get out, but the thought of Edgeworth actually leaving, despite that being what he insisted he wanted, brought whole new waves of panic crashing over him.
“Phoenix.” The word seemed to drag itself out of Edgeworth’s mouth and a hand fell to his shoulder. “We can deal with however you feel about me in a moment—or never, if that is what you prefer. For now, I only want you to concentrate on your breathing. I will not have you pass out on me.”
“I- I can’t,” Phoenix whimpered. He was so tired, his mind was spinning, he couldn’t feel his hands and feet anymore. “I need to get out…”
“You’re in no state to move,” Edgeworth told him sternly. “Here.”
He picked up one of Phoenix’s hands from where it lay limply beside him and placed it on his own chest. Phoenix’s eyes snapped to his: touch was something Miles Edgeworth almost never initiated, much less touch like… that. Phoenix could feel the heat of his body even through his shirt, waistcoat, and jacket. He could feel Miles’ heart and thought it might be pounding almost as hard as his own.
Perhaps most importantly… he could feel his breath. His chest rose and fell, smoothly, soothingly, calmly.
“Breathe with me, Wright. Phoenix,” Edgeworth murmured. “Just… just breathe.”
Phoenix breathed. It was rocky at first, everything from tongue to esophagus to his lungs themselves feeling like they were rattling and seizing within him. But he kept breathing, following Miles’ example, and eventually he stopped feeling like he was going to vomit or scream or, well, throw a chair through the window.
Eventually, Edgeworth dropped Phoenix’s hand, which he’d kept pressed to his chest. Phoenix felt the loss instantly, but took his hand back into his lap. They were both sitting on the floor at this point, the chair crumpled to Phoenix’s left. Slowly, Phoenix pushed himself to his feet. He still felt shaky all over, even though his heart was no longer pounding so hard.
“Thanks,” he said, not looking at Edgeworth. Once again, the other man had seen him in a categorically vulnerable moment, even worse than the wrecked state he’d been in during that last recess of the trial. His head was clearer now, so he knew Edgeworth wouldn’t judge him for it, exactly… but there was still a chance he wouldn’t give Phoenix what he needed after showing someone that side of himself.
He never had before.
“Of course.” Edgeworth cleared his throat and stood also, standing stiffly a few feet away. “Do you still feel the need to leave? I am more than willing to walk you to the entrance. Or, if you’d rather I just leave you be, I believe you are in a rational enough state that-”
“Can you just-?” Phoenix held up his hand, taking another steadying breath. Words. It was all just words, stiff, emotionally neutral words from a stiff, emotional neutral man.
He’d noticed a change in Edgeworth since his return. He seemed stronger, more solid, but also… lighter. He’d clearly had time to heal from at least some of the trauma that had destroyed his life for a decade and a half—funny, how his departure had healed him and yet it had wrecked Phoenix.
But he was still the same Edgeworth. Phoenix still felt like there was this severe emotional divide between them, and he hated it. This trial—it should have changed that. They’d been partners. Edgeworth had seen him at his most desperate, his most afraid. He’d fought almost as hard as Phoenix had to save Maya. He was the reason that all of them were able to celebrate that night. And yet, still. Still, there was that space.
Edgeworth was eyeing him hesitantly, sort of shiftily. “I… apologize. I’m not… sure what I did, but- but I apologize nonetheless.”
Phoenix shut his eyes and took a seat in a chair like a proper person instead of just flopping back on the floor. Miles stayed standing, and that divide between them seemed to stretch exponentially.
“What…” Edgeworth cleared his throat and then began again. “Do you know what set you off in Viola Hall? You ran out like De Killer himself was chasing you.”
Phoenix winced, wishing he hadn’t made that particular joke. “I lost sight of Maya,” he replied quietly, plainly, resting his face in his hands and his elbows on the round conference table in front of him. “Gumshoe was just blocking her, she was literally ten feet away, but I lost sight of her and with the hotel and- and- and everything, I just… I freaked out. Super irrational, huh?”
Silence. Then he heard chair legs scraping lightly across the floor and the sound of someone sitting down. Phoenix lifted his head to see Edgeworth settling himself tentatively down two chairs away. “I don’t believe that to be at all irrational,” he said quietly. “You went through a deeply traumatic experience.”
Phoenix’s lips quirked dryly. “Have you started going to therapy or something?” he asked, knowing how blunt he sounded. “The Edgeworth I knew never would have said something like that.”
Edgeworth winced and shrank in on himself. “I- yes,” he mumbled. “I saw a professional for nearly a year when I was… away.”
He wasn’t allowed to skirt around what he’d done. That wasn’t fair. “When you faked your own suicide, you mean,” Phoenix confirmed, still horribly blunt.
Another flinch. Edgeworth’s eyes slipped to the door but he didn’t rise to go. Phoenix felt a tiny bit guilty, but he was just so tired and raw. “I see that my explanations for why I had to leave weren’t sufficient for you.”
“Leaving and faking a suicide are two different things!” Phoenix cried, fully straightening up. His anger was giving him a much-needed rush of adrenaline, and he was starting to hear the blood thrumming in his ears again. “You could have just taken a trip! You could have left a note saying: Hey, I need to do some soul-searching, don’t contact me but I’m fine. You didn’t have to be so- so- so melodramatic!”
Edgeworth blanched. “Melodramatic!” he echoed, affront in every syllable.
“Yes!” Phoenix pressed. “It was! It was melodramatic and unnecessary and-”
“It was for you, Wright!” Edgeworth yelled, leaping to his feet. “I left that note because of you!”
Phoenix stared at him, open-mouthed.
He remembered the day Gumshoe had called him. He’d been alone in his office, balancing his checkbook, thinking about what he was going to have for dinner. He was weighing the options—ramen? fish and chips?—and then his phone had rung and he’d picked up and Gumshoe’s voice, strangled and rough, had told him he needed to come to Edgeworth’s office. He’d gone without question, because at that point he still thought he could be something to Edgeworth, still thought he could help him somehow. And then Gumshoe had met him at the office door, looking confused and wrecked, and handed Phoenix that note.
Phoenix hadn’t known what to do. He’d just stood in the doorway and stared until the letters jumbled amongst themselves. The message had already been burned into his mind, though.
Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth chooses death.
For a long time, Phoenix had refused to believe it. He’d thought it was some sort of trick. Maybe someone had kidnapped Miles and written that note so that they wouldn’t look for him?
A handwriting analysis proved that it was his.
So maybe they’d forced him to write the note, and he was in danger and in desperate need of rescue?
But no ransom letter appeared, there was no sign of struggle in the office, no pings on his credit card or his phone…
Phoenix wasn’t sure what the exact moment was that he’d accepted Edgeworth was dead. He’d just woken up one day with this deep feeling of dread and pain and… guilt. He’d been the one to ruin Edgeworth’s win streak. He’d been the one to destroy his world view and everything stable in his life.
“I- I thought you said that you didn’t leave because you lost those cases,” Phoenix mumbled, trying not to feel too hurt. Had all of Edgeworth’s explanations about striving to seek truth been a lie? Then how did he explain how changed he’d been in court since he returned? Fighting for a guilty verdict, to be sure, but more curious and open, prepared to explore every necessary avenue so they would ultimately come to the right conclusion. Even Mia had clocked it, been unable to read the signals he was sending during the initial trial.
“I didn’t,” Edgeworth said quietly. “I left because I needed to rediscover what it meant to have the jobs we have, Wright, I told you that already. But I- I faked my own death because after the Skye case I felt like I was trapped in a vicious, inescapable downward spiral. I couldn’t drag you with me. I wouldn’t. And I knew the only way you’d ever leave me be is if you thought I was dead.”
“I- I wouldn’t have come looking for you if you just said you needed space!” Phoenix protested.
“Objection,” Edgeworth snapped. “History proves otherwise.”
Didn’t it just? Edgeworth had pushed him away over and over and over again and still Phoenix came barreling back like an unwanted dog. He gulped, squeezing his hands in his lap. “I just wanted to be there for you.”
“And I couldn’t let you be,” Edgeworth completed. He sat back down, less primly this time. More of a flop, really. “The last thing I wanted to do was destroy your life the way I was destroying my own. So I gave you a final, ultimate push, one that even you couldn’t push back on.”
It made sense. It was horrible and unfair, certainly, but it made sense in a way that all of Edgeworth’s other explanations hadn’t.
“Are you ever going to let me in?” Phoenix asked quietly. He wasn’t sure how their conversation had ended up here. His panic was gone, his adrenaline had faded, but there was a certain numbness to his senses that made him blunt and bold. Maybe he’d regret this all in the morning, but for now the only way forward was through the minefield of his and Edgeworth’s volatile emotions.
Edgeworth looked at him in surprise. “L-let you in?” he stammered. “I- I’m trying, Wright, I’ve been trying ever since I returned.”
Phoenix let out a sigh. He supposed that was fair enough. The Edgeworth of the past few days had been significantly more open and helpful than any time past. But… “You tried to turn the worst two days of my life into some big life-lesson,” Phoenix said bitterly. “You went through this big self-revelation and it convinced you that I needed to go through it, too. That wasn’t what I needed, Edgeworth. I just needed someone to be there for me.”
“You had plenty of people there for you,” Edgeworth muttered uncomfortably. “Gumshoe and- and the younger Miss Fey.”
“I wanted you to be there for me.”
Edgeworth’s mouth worked soundlessly for a moment. “I thought it would help,” he said finally. “Once I knew that Engarde was guilty—which, really, I did from almost the very beginning—I thought that it would ease your mind to discover that your job is not to be right all the time. It’s just to discover the truth. I thought that would help you like it did me. I was only trying to help you.”
His voice strangled a little desperately at the end in a way Phoenix had never heard before. Phoenix swallowed, searching his face. Maybe it wasn’t what he’d wanted—what he’d wanted, deep down, was for Edgeworth to sweep into the situation, save the day, and deposit Phoenix and everyone he cared about safely on the other side. Edgeworth had always held that heroic power for him, ever since the day of the class trial.
But maybe what he’d needed was what Edgeworth had provided. He’d given him a way, a genuine, legitimate way, to keep himself from sinking into deep self-hatred so he could push through to the end of the trial, making enough time for Maya to be saved.
“What do you- what can I-” Edgeworth huffed out a frustrated breath and stood up again. He began to pace in tight lines in front of the table, then stopped just as abruptly and faced Phoenix again. “In what way do you- do you need me, now? How might I be of service to you? I’d- I’d really like to try to be what you need, since I failed to do so previously.”
Phoenix blinked at him. Of all the responses he’d expected, this wasn’t it.
The divide between them pinched just slightly smaller.
“Please,” Miles pressed when Phoenix still said nothing. “Let me try again.”
Phoenix nodded dumbly. What did he need? He’d barely ate, or slept, he’d been worried and scared out of his mind. He’d been forced to defend a murderer, a man he knew was guilty, to throw blame on a bereft, innocent woman. The man he… well, in the safety of his own mind, he could say it: the man he loved had come back from the dead, and he’d barely had time to even process that. What could Edgeworth—anyone, really—do for him after everything that had happened in the past few days?
A hug.
He could really use a hug. Not the rib-shattering squeeze Maya had given him, as joyful as that had been. Phoenix needed someone to hold him, to allow him to feel safe and secure after so much fear and instability.
He couldn’t just say that, though—Phoenix felt his face burn just thinking about it. But he couldn’t say nothing, either. Miles was still watching him expectantly, face so intense, desperate to do something to help, to make up for before.
“I-” He couldn’t say it. It would be way too embarrassing. Phoenix rose slowly, wrapping his arms around himself almost unconsciously. “It’s… I’m fine. It’s okay. You did what you thought you should and- and it was okay, Edgeworth. It’s okay. I’m fine.”
Edgeworth nodded uncertainly, pressing his lips together. “May I…” He swallowed. “May I… embrace you?”
Phoenix’s head shot up, mouth falling open, not for the first time that evening. Had he read Phoenix’s mind? Was his desperate need just that obvious?
Edgeworth clearly could not, in fact, read Phoenix’s mind, because after two seconds with no concrete response, his face went red and he hurriedly backtracked. “That is to say- I merely thought- I understand if you don’t-”
“Please,” Phoenix interrupted. He was surprised at how rough he sounded. “Please, yes, I-”
He stepped forward quickly, unsure of how else to do this, and Miles’ arms opened for him.
He smelled like mild, expensive cologne and old books. His shoulder was bony when Phoenix tucked his chin over it (he wanted to bury his face into Miles’ jacket but it was too soon post-panic attack to have his airways constricted like that). His hands were large and warm as they pressed against Phoenix’s back, tentatively at first, then firmer and more broadly. His arms wrapped fully around Phoenix, pulling him into his chest, holding him tight.
Phoenix felt something inside him crumble. He really didn’t cry often: it wasn’t that the feelings of grief or fear or sorrow weren’t there, and there often, it was just that they didn’t manifest in tears, more so long distant stares and moping and despondency. Maybe he bottled things up too much sometimes, like after seeing Edgeworth’s note, but mostly he just wasn’t one to process situations with tears.
There was something about all of this, though—perhaps his exhaustion, or the extreme highs and lows of emotion and adrenaline, or simply just the feeling of being held like this, how solid and warm Miles felt wrapped around him, like a weighted security blanket or a shield. Whatever it was, Phoenix felt a shudder travel through his body. His lips started to wobble and his eyes and sinuses burned until the view beyond Edgeworth’s shoulder blurred.
“I’m sorry,” he rasped, a sob breaking out of him at the tail end of the words.
He wasn’t sure how Edgeworth would react to him crying on his shoulder—the man was notably horrible with emotions—but Edgeworth just held him tighter. “Wright,” he said softly, tenderly, even, as more and more sobs forced their way out of Phoenix’s spasming lungs. “You’re exhausted.”
“It’s- it’s b-been hell,” Phoenix gasped, and he was talking about more than just the last two days.
“I know,” Miles said. His sigh was loud in Phoenix’s ear, breath warm across the back of his neck. “I wish that- I wish none of you had had to go through this.”
Phoenix burrowed in closer, turning his face to press into the side of Miles’ neck. He wished they were sitting down, legs wobbly and tired. Laying down would have been even better. Maybe on a bed, heads pillowed, blankets warm around their bodies, and when he could finally get himself to stop crying he could just… drift off to sleep, Miles still holding him close, and they could just rest there. Together.
“Wright…” Edgeworth muttered. He shifted, taking a quick step back, and Phoenix realized he’d gone practically boneless, dumping all of his weight onto Miles’ chest.
“Ah, sorry.” Phoenix forced himself to draw away, stand back. He took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to get his heart rate to lower again, and wiped his eyes on the back of his wrist. He was such a mess.
Edgeworth studied the floor and gripped his own arm like he was still seeking something to hold. “I… could I offer to drive you home?”
Phoenix felt himself sag involuntarily with relief. “You- you’d do that? You wouldn’t mind?”
Edgeworth smiled a little wryly at him. “You clearly don’t know what you look like right now, Wright.”
He led the way back through the hotel—which was considerably less mazelike with a clearer head and eyes—and to Viola Hall. Maya immediately barreled out of her seat and into his chest when they walked in. “NIIIIICK!!! Where did you go?!?! I thought maybe you’d been kidnapped by a creepy sneaky assassin dude now!”
“No,” Phoenix said, patting her back. He sort of wished she wasn’t already making jokes about the severe trauma that had ended less than an hour ago. “That’s something only you are capable of.”
Maya scoffed into his shirt and pulled back, then got a good look at him. “Whoa, you all right?”
Phoenix winced, wondering just how bad he really looked, and desperately searched for something to say. He didn’t want Maya to know he’d just been completely falling apart.
“Wright merely needs to rest, Miss Fey,” Edgeworth broke in. “This case has necessitated several long days and very late nights.”
“I hear that,” Maya groaned. “I’m wiped.” Her face fell slightly. “I guess Pearly and I should be looking into a train to get back to Kurain.”
“Nonsense.” Miles reached for his wallet. “I’ll speak to the front desk on our way out and reserve you both a room here at the Gatewater.”
“Really?” Maya gaped, eyes practically glowing.
“Edgeworth…” Phoenix murmured. He knew the other man had quite a bit of money, but that still felt like a gesture too far. “They could crash with me, you really don’t-”
“Nick, don’t talk him out of it!” Maya squawked, kicking him in the shin. “I’ve just been through an ordeal! I deserve to be pampered!! And so does Pearly!”
“Yeah, Mr. Nick!” Pearl yelled from the table. “We deserve to be pampered!”
If Phoenix wasn’t mistaken, he saw a flicker of a smile pass over Miles’ face. “It’s no trouble, really,” he told Phoenix. “In fact, I would rest better knowing they had somewhere safe and comfortable to spend the night.”
A weight lifted off of Phoenix chest. This was exactly what he’d meant about Miles’ ability to swoop in and save the day, lifting the heaviest and most daunting things off of Phoenix’s plate.
Maya gave him a last hug before he left, closely followed by Pearl, and then Powers, and then even Detective Gumshoe. They were nice, but nothing compared to the way Miles had just been holding him.
“You better come visit me first thing tomorrow, Nick!” Maya shouted after him. The last thing Phoenix wanted to do was return to that hotel, but he’d missed that voice and that face so much that he just nodded and smiled.
Phoenix trailed after the other man as they headed towards the front lobby. Miles reserved a suite for the girls, as well as $200 is prepaid room service. Phoenix wondered if he would regret that after Maya ate her way through the entire amount. Then the two headed outside. Phoenix hadn’t realized how hot and sticky his face felt until the cool March air wafted over it.
“I don’t understand how she could spend the night in that place,” he commented as they walked to Miles’ car.
Edgeworth lifted a shoulder. “Perhaps Miss Fey, unlike the two of us, is able to understand properly when the danger is over. De Killer is gone. She knows she’s safe, even there.”
Phoenix hoped desperately that that was so. “Part of me kind of wishes she was spending the night at my place,” he sighed. “Just so I could… I don’t know. Make sure she’s okay.”
Edgeworth’s face fell. “I’m- I’m sorry,” he muttered. “Perhaps I shouldn’t have offered the hotel room. It seems my help was, once again, misplaced.”
“No!” Phoenix blurted. “No, no, Edgeworth.” The dejection in his tone was almost enough to make Phoenix feel weepy again. “That was beyond generous. I’m just… overprotective. She’ll be fine. She is safe.”
“She is,” Edgeworth agreed firmly. They’d reached his car, and the other man opened the door for Phoenix to get in. Phoenix was too exhausted to fully read into it, but he felt his face warm a little more as he slipped inside.
The drive was quiet. Phoenix let his eyes glaze over and his head rest against the door, breathing in the scent of a car air freshener and more of Edgeworth’s cologne. It was somewhat remarkable that two days of living hell had ended up like this: everyone safe and content, and Miles Edgeworth giving Phoenix a ride home.
And then Miles’ hand fell to his knee. Phoenix sucked in a breath, freezing on the spot. “Is this… all right?” Miles asked quietly, his adam’s apple bobbing as he kept his eyes locked on the road.
Phoenix wasn’t sure if he could respond, so he just put his hand down on top of Miles’ and curled his fingers around it.
Miles parked in the small visitor lot by Phoenix’s apartment. Phoenix reluctantly allowed him take his hand back and staggered out of the car. His limbs felt strange: weightless and heavy all at once. He didn’t think he’d ever been this exhausted in his life, not even after studying for weeks before his bar exam.
Phoenix was forced to lead the way this time. Edgeworth had never actually been to his apartment, which was thankfully only on the second floor. His building didn’t even have an elevator, but even if it had, Phoenix would have never forced Edgeworth into one of those.
He unlocked his apartment with a visibly shaking hand and flicked on the lights. The small nest of blankets that had been Pearl’s bed for the past few nights was still on the couch and the sight made his heart ache. He was suddenly very glad Edgeworth had gotten Maya and Pearl that hotel room. They both needed a proper rest and, yes, pampering.
He knew his apartment was a mess. There were dishes in the sink, the trash needed to be taken out, and the clothes strewn everywhere in his bedroom were immediately apparent when he walked in and turned on the lamp. Miles, to his credit, didn’t say a word, just stood stiffly to the side while Phoenix dragged himself and a pair of pajamas into the bathroom and got ready for bed in a leaden haze.
When he emerged, Edgeworth still hadn’t moved. Phoenix sat down on the edge of the bed. “Um…” He didn’t have the brain power to think of an eloquent way to say this, or anything, really: “You can stay the night.”
Edgeworth gripped his arm again. “I wouldn’t want to intrude.”
“I’d rather you stay.” He knew Edgeworth wasn’t going to run off and fake another suicide, but still: if he couldn’t have Maya in the next room over, the least he could have was the reassurance that Miles was still safe and close by.
When Miles still hesitated, Phoenix offered him a slight smile. “It would help me.”
Edgeworth’s eyes snapped up and a reflexive responding smile broke over his face. “I refuse to sleep in my suit,” he said, lifting an eyebrow.
Phoenix dragged himself off the bed again. “I’ll get you something to wear.”
There was a further moment of navigation when Edgeworth came out of his bedroom in Phoenix’s clothes—which didn’t do anything to help Phoenix’s clear-thinking capacity—and made like he was going to head to the living room.
“Edgeworth, you’re not sleeping on the couch,” Phoenix sighed, pulling back the covers beside him. Then he hesitated. “If- if you’re comfortable.”
“It would be… quite nice, actually,” Miles admitted, swallowing heavily again. He slid carefully, precisely, under the covers. The bed wasn’t large. Their legs bumped as they both tried to get comfortable. “May I…”
He fell silent. Phoenix twisted around, tangling them even further in the covers, to see his face. “May you…?”
Edgeworth’s face was red even in the very dim light coming through the cracks in Phoenix’s shades. “May I hold you again,” he mumbled, barely even phrasing it as a question.
Like so many times already that evening, Phoenix felt something loosen and give in his chest at Miles’ words. “That would be quite nice, actually,” he echoed with a little teasing smile, turning back around so Miles could wrap his arms around his chest.
The warmth and pressure were glorious. Phoenix shut his eyes, body leaden against the mattress. He’d never been so comfortable in his life, almost to the point where he wanted to stay awake just to relish in it a little.
His body had other ideas.
W / T \ Y
Phoenix was abruptly awoken by a familiar jangling tune. Something behind him shifted and groaned, but before he could even fully figure out what was going on, where he was, who was there, he was patting around the bedside table for his phone.
“Hello?” he mumbled, cutting off the Steel Samurai theme song mid-note. He rubbed his eyes and looked around, heart seizing when he saw Miles Edgeworth right beside him in bed, blinking drowsily at him. The events of the last few days crashed back down on him, and the lack of a voice on the other end filled him with sudden fear. “Hello? Who is it?”
“N-Nick?”
Maya. Phoenix’s heart seized again, but now for an entirely different reason.“Maya? What’s wrong?”
Edgeworth was sitting up now, looking more alert. He flicked on the lamp and Phoenix squinted against it.
“I- I h-had a d-dream,” Maya stammered out, her voice still low. “I d-d-didn’t w-want to w-wake P-P-Pearly.”
“I’m on my way,” Phoenix said immediately, swinging his legs out of bed and standing. His vision wobbled at the sudden full-body agony of standing, muscles sore and worn out, stomach still painfully empty. “Just hang on, Maya, we’ll be there in ten.”
“Okay…” Maya whispered. “W-will you stay on the phone with me?”
“Of course.” Phoenix trapped the device against his ear as he threw on a zip-up sweatshirt and some socks. Behind him, Miles was doing the same, quickly regaining his usual three-piece getup. Phoenix wondered when they’d started being so in-sync like this. Usually that only happened in court. “Umm… talk to me, okay? How was the rest of the party?”
“Oh, it was good,” Maya murmured. Her voice still sounded shaky, but less so. “I got Mr. Powers to sign all my clothes. And Detective Gumshoe got a little tipsy and started telling us about this girl on the force that he’s in love with.”
Phoenix was almost a little sad he missed it. “Wow, that sounds exciting,” he said, jogging towards the door with Edgeworth close behind him. He barely had the presence of mind to lock his apartment behind him, much less grab his apartment keys in the first place. “And… what did you eat? At the dinner?”
“Umm… I had some chicken salad,” Maya said slowly. “A lot of bread. And a lot of chocolate. And then the front desk said Mr. Edgeworth paid for room service for us so Pearly and I ordered fondue. Honestly, I felt kind of sick.” She let out a pained laugh. “I guess maybe I should have taken it a little easier after not eating for so long.”
“You? Take it easy with food?” Phoenix teased. They’d reached Miles car. Phoenix got inside. He felt a little like he was teleporting he was so checked out to his surroundings. He searched for another question to keep Maya’s mind off her dream. “All right, in the car now. Do you think you’ll go back to Kurain soon? Or will you stick around? You and Pearl can stay with me for as long as you need.”
Maya was quiet for a moment. “I wish I’d s-stayed with you last night,” she said finally, her voice back to fully shaking. “N-Nick- I’m- I’m so s-scared he’s gonna…”
A muffled sob from the other end.
“It’s okay, Maya,” Phoenix said firmly. “It’s okay, we’re coming, okay? We’re on our way.”
He waited for a response, but there wasn’t any. “Maya? Maya?” Phoenix pressed, panic building in his chest. What if her fears weren’t just paranoia and trauma? What if she had some sort of gut instinct, what if De Killer was back, what if-
Phoenix pulled his phone away from his ear and frantically taped the screen to see if the call was still active. He let out a swear when the empty battery signal flashed once and then the whole thing shut down.
“What is it?” Edgeworth demanded, the first thing he’d said since waking up. His voice was lower than usual, more gravely. Phoenix sort of wished he had a moment to fully appreciate it. “What’s wrong?”
“My phone died,” Phoenix groaned. “Drive fast, Edgeworth, she’s freaking out.”
Edgeworth took him quite seriously and the engine of his fancy sports car roared. They shot off down the empty road so fast that Phoenix’s head hit the seat behind him.
Phoenix pushed his hands through his hair, which was a mess from his bed head and his breakdown the night before and tearing his hands through it throughout the entire trial. He glanced at the dashboard clock and repressed another groan to find that it was only two am.
“Are they both safe?” Edgeworth spoke up again. “Should we call the police?”
“She just had a bad dream,” Phoenix mumbled. “I- I should have stayed. I should have made sure she was okay, I shouldn’t have just left and gone to bed like that.”
“Phoenix.” Edgeworth’s hand landed on his leg like it had on their drive the night before. Phoenix gripped it fiercely, staring over at him, desperate for some sort of validation that he wasn’t the cause of this new disaster. Edgeworth risked their safety on the road to return his gaze for a moment. “Sometimes you need to take care of yourself. I know it feels like selfishness, but it isn’t. You would not have been able to help Miss Fey in the state you were in last night.”
“No, I know, I know,” Phoenix sighed. “But she’s-”
“She will be all right,” Edgeworth told him firmly. “We’re going to make sure of that right now.”
Phoenix was quiet for a moment, then impulsively brought Miles’ hand up to his lips. “Thank you for doing this,” he said. “I didn’t even ask you, I just got in your car.”
Miles was staring, wide-eyed and unblinking, at the road. “O-of course,” he managed finally, cheeks bright and rosy. “There was no question of my accompanying you.”
Edgeworth’s presence proved to be particularly useful when they reached the hotel. There was, of course, no one behind the front desk at this insanely early of an hour, but Edgeworth had been the one to reserve the room, so he knew the exact number and location. Phoenix followed him through the corridors at a run, trying to ignore the panic rising again in his own chest at being back in this cursed building.
When they arrived, slightly out of breath, at the appropriate door, Phoenix was the one to knock, quietly but urgently. There was a pause, and they could both hear the frantic breathing from the other side even through the door. Then the lock fumbled open and Maya Fey tumbled out, still wearing her robes, now beyond wrinkled, because of course she hadn’t had anything to change into the night before.
She barreled into Phoenix and shoved him. “You hung up on me,” she hissed, tears streaming down her face as she shoved at Phoenix’s chest again and again. “Why did- you-”
“My phone died!” Phoenix protested, stumbling a little despite how pathetic her attempts to topple him were. “Maya, Maya, my phone died, I’m so sorry. Would you just-?”
She tried to shove him again but he grabbed her arms and dragged her into a tight hug. Maya broke down into sobs, clinging to his shirt. He could feel her entire body shaking in his grasp. “I’m so sorry,” Phoenix mumbled, hugging her tightly. “You’re safe, I promise. I’m here now.”
Maya choked on her sobs, coughing, her noodle-like arms shockingly tight around his middle. “I- I thought he- he was- g-gonna- t-take me- a-again,” she gasped.
“Not letting that happen,” Phoenix told her firmly.
“He’s gone, Miss Fey,” Edgeworth spoke up quietly. Maya gasped and ripped away from Phoenix, cowering against him until she laid eyes on Edgeworth, recognized him, and relaxed. Edgeworth offered her a tentative nod. “He’ll never hurt you again. But believe me when I tell you I understand how that fear lingers, even once your own personal monster is deep behind bars or even at the end of a noose.”
Phoenix rubbed at Maya’s back, hoping to get her to calm down. Maya sniffled and leaned further into his side. “Pearly’s still asleep,” she said tearfully. “I’m so tired, Nick, but I d-don’t know if I- I can-”
“Let’s just try, okay?” Phoenix urged. She’d gone through a terrible ordeal and really did need rest more than anything else.
Edgeworth had had the presence of mind to keep the hotel room door propped open with his foot, so they, thankfully, weren’t locked out. Phoenix quietly helped Maya inside and walked her back to bed, letting her sit down while he got her a cup of water from the bathroom. Pearl was, in fact, sound asleep, looking impossibly tiny in the second queen-sized bed in the room, but Phoenix still winced at the sound of the water hitting the sink.
When he returned to the bedroom area, Maya had curled back underneath the covers. She stared at him with her ridiculously large eyes, looking so incredibly young. Phoenix handed her the water, watched to make sure she drank it, then set the glass on the bedside table. He pulled the covers up and tucked them around her. “I’m going to stay right here until you fall asleep, okay?” he said softly. “And Edgeworth and I will be nearby if you wake up again, you just give me-” He paused. “Well. Give him a call. My phones’s still dead.”
Maya nodded, her eyelids drooping.
“You’re going to be okay, Maya, I promise,” Phoenix told her, as firmly as he could while still speaking in a whisper. “No one is ever going to take you like that ever again. I won’t let them.”
Maya nodded again. “Thank you,” she whispered as her eyes fully slipped shut.
Phoenix rested a hand on her back through the covers, thumb moving just slightly back and forth. He let his shoulders droop as the quiet settled around them. He knew Edgeworth was right, that he wouldn’t have been able to deal with this properly without some rest, but he still felt responsible in part for her fear. Or maybe it was just that he felt responsible for the whole situation. He shouldn’t have let De Killer take her. He should have known that the phone call was a lie, that something was amiss. Wasn’t he supposed to be good at reading people?
Phoenix shook the thoughts out of his head as firmly and completely as he could. What had happened had happened. Much like Edgeworth, all he could do now was help and heal as best he was able.
Phoenix stayed on the edge of Maya’s bed for a good ten minutes after he was sure she was asleep. Then he eased himself upright and tiptoed out of the room. Edgeworth was sitting just outside the door, head tilted back against the wall and eyes shut. He looked about as exhausted as Phoenix felt, though there was a certain wired adrenaline still running through him from the frantic drive over that told him he likely wouldn’t be getting back to sleep anytime soon.
“Edgeworth,” he muttered, nudging the other man with his foot. “Hey.”
Edgeworth jerked and opened his eyes, scrambling to his feet. “All is well?” he confirmed concernedly.
“Yeah, she’s asleep.” Phoenix rubbed a hand down his face. “Hey, I could really go for pancakes.”
Edgeworth blinked at him. “…Pancakes?”
“I haven’t eaten in, like…” Phoenix tried to count the hours in a foggy mind, then gave up. “It’s been awhile. There’s this place not far from here that’s open all night. Probably not your type of food, but-”
“Let’s go,” Edgeworth said decisively, setting off down the hall.
Despite his fatigue and all the emotions brewing just under the surface, Phoenix’s lips quirked slightly. There was something incredibly nice about… this, whatever this was. The two of them, together, as a unit, the chasm between them all but gone.
They arrived at the all-night diner at close to 3am. The place was empty save for a very rundown-looking elderly man staring blankly at a mug of coffee. Edgeworth found a semi-secluded booth and carefully sat down on the squeaky bench, which was cushioned with a green glitter-flecked plastic. Phoenix collapsed across from him and slouched way down. “I think… I think I’m going to take some time off.”
Edgeworth’s gaze snapped up. “You’re- you’re not going to be an attorney anymore?”
“What? No, jeez, I just need a vacation.” Phoenix rolled his eyes and smirked teasingly. “Not all of us feel the need to flee the country the moment we lose a case.”
Edgeworth bristled. “I told you, I-”
“Kidding, Miles, kidding.” His first name had just slipped out, but Phoenix watched the visceral reaction in his companion as he immediately quieted, swallowed, and blushed.
“What about you?” he continued with an attempt at being casual, poking at the paper napkin rolled and taped around his silverware. “Are you, uh… what’s your plan?”
“I returned rather spontaneously,” Miles admitted, staring down at his lap. “I have certain affairs abroad that I must attend to. But…”
He trailed off, and Phoenix cocked his head. “But…?”
Miles had just opened his mouth when the waitress stepped up to their table. “You two ready to order?” she asked in an impressively perky tone, considering the hour.
Phoenix sent a cursory glance towards the menus, which were stacked on the end of the table closest to the wall. “Uh… two chocolate chip pancakes,” he said without even picking one up.
Miles looked between him and the waitress, hesitating. “I’ll do the same?” he said uncertainty.
“You got it!” the waitress chirped, not even bothering to write the order down before heading back to the kitchens.
“You’re not ready for how good chocolate chip pancakes taste at three am,” Phoenix said with a grin, still fidgeting with his napkin-wrapped utensils.
“Yes, you do seem like the type to know that sort of thing firsthand.”
Phoenix shrugged. “What can I say? Time management has never been one of my skills.”
“No,” Edgeworth acknowledged. “But you have so many that that seems only fair.”
Phoenix blinked, caught off-guard by the unexpected compliment. “Uhh… thanks,” he said, trying not to grin to broadly. “Anyway, um… you were saying? About your plans?”
“Oh, yes, of course.” Edgeworth cleared his throat and began unwrapping his utensils so he could lay the paper napkin neatly across his thighs. “I am, well… when I first arrived, it was for Franziska’s sake. But to remain here… it would be for my own.”
He swallowed again, meeting Phoenix’s eyes tentatively.
“Keep going…” Phoenix urged, wanting to know exactly what he meant before he did something stupid, like get his hopes up.
Edgeworth turned red again. “I- I- perhaps that’s all I had to say on the matter!” he huffed, glaring towards the wall.
Phoenix sighed a little, shoulders dipping. It didn’t feel like the chasm between them had returned, exactly—Phoenix wasn’t sure if it ever fully could now that the two of them had shared his bed—but Edgeworth was still drawing into himself, throwing up walls.
“Okay,” Phoenix replied simply. “Well, if you decide you have, uh… more to say, you know where to find me.”
“Yes, I do, as you’re sitting directly across from me,” Edgeworth grumbled.
They fell into silence. Phoenix found he’d already torn his napkin, leaving dusty little shreds on the checkered tablecloth.
“I… apologize,” Edgeworth mumbled. “Again. I’m… I’m terrible at this. In case that wasn’t obvious. But I…” He inhaled sharply, glaring again but more with concentration and determination than with any anger. “I know I liked being able to stand in that hotel and hold onto you. And I know that I liked being around when you woke up this morning, and I know that I liked being the one to drive you to Miss Fey, and-”
His cheeks were rapidly reddening, breath coming faster. “I know that, when I was away, I spent a substantial amount of my time wishing I hadn’t left that blasted note so that there’d be- that- hnnnng.”
Phoenix stared at him, blood thrumming with anticipation.
“I wanted to be able to hope that you’d come looking for me,” Miles finished finally in a very quiet voice. “You’ve always been the one to save me, Phoenix Wright.”
Phoenix’s insides turned to gelatin. He slipped a little further in the booth, feeling warm from toe to ear. “You know,” he murmured, “just last night, I was thinking the same thing about you.”
Miles blinked at him in clear surprise and so Phoenix, emboldened, straightened up and reached for one of his hands. “I know you don’t see yourself that way,” he said. “As a- a hero. A protector. But there was a moment in that trial yesterday where everything was falling apart—and that’s putting it mildly—and then I looked across the courtroom and you were standing there and I feel like I really just saw you, even though you’d been there the whole time, and I suddenly got this feeling like- like everything was going to be okay, just because you were there. I knew that you were ready to fight as hard and as long as I was. I trusted you so completely—I trust you so completely.”
Miles’ eyes were, for lack of a better word, shinning. He looked entirely incredulous, entirely awestruck. Phoenix suddenly wanted to lean over the table and kiss the expression right off of him, but he wanted to know what Miles would say, first.
It took a second. Miles opened and shut his mouth a couple of times, then inhaled sharply. “I d- I don’t feel quite… I daresay I’m not worthy of that trust, Wright. I’m sure I need not remind you that I left, I ran away, and I left you to suffer because of it.”
“Just promise me you won’t do it again,” Phoenix murmured. “And all is forgiven.”
Edgeworth searched his face, eyes flicking back and forth between his own, then nodded rapidly. “I promise. I may not be able to stay here permanently, but from here on out you will always know where I am and- and when I plan to return. And I will… that is to say… you will always be the reason for which I return.”
The warmth filling his body was almost unbearable. Phoenix fought the urge to start bawling for the second time in twelve hours and squeezed Miles hand tightly for lack of anything coherent to say.
Plates thunked onto the table in front of them. Edgeworth jolted, yanking his hand from Phoenix’s, and Phoenix turned a startled gaze to the waitress, who was looking at the two of them expectantly. “Anything else I can getcha?”
“Uh, n-no, no,” Phoenix stuttered, feeling so red hot that he might just explode into flames. “Thanks.”
He blinked down at the pancakes, unable to even process them for a moment before he carefully reached for his utensils and wrestled them out of the napkin he’d all but destroyed.
“Oh my.”
Phoenix lifted his head to find Edgeworth with a fork hovering by his mouth, chewing delicately. He raised his eyebrow and Edgeworth blushed. “You were correct. These are… quite scrumptious.”
Phoenix grinned broadly, taking a large bite of his own pancakes. Sweet fluffy dough and chocolate hit his tongue and he all but moaned, hurriedly shoveling in another bite. He was so hungry. He was so hungry.
After burning through his first pancake in under a minute, Phoenix lifted his head to find Edgeworth watching him with a mixture of horror and bemusement. He’d pre-cut all of his pancakes into bite-sized pieces and had one piece balanced on his fork. “Can’t take you anywhere, honestly,” he sighed, shaking his head condescendingly.
Phoenix wince-smiled at him. “Yeah, I’m a pretty bad date, huh?”
Edgeworth froze—just for a second, more of a glitch than anything, but Phoenix noticed. He winced. “Sorry, I didn’t mean-”
“You are a tremendous date, Wright,” Edgeworth told him huffily. “I only settle for the best.”
Red faced once again, Phoenix meekly returned to his pancakes.
So this was how it finally happened. Their first date after fifteen-some years of Phoenix dreaming and pining without even quite knowing that’s what he was doing, and it was pancakes at 3 in the morning in a scrummy diner after his surrogate little sister had been kidnapped for three days and Phoenix had very nearly lost his grip on everything he held fast, his sanity included.
Of course it was. Nothing could ever be simple with the two of them.
Edgeworth paid for the pancakes when the time came, because Phoenix genuinely didn’t even have his wallet on him, and then the two wandered back outside to his car. Phoenix was bone-dead exhausted, sluggishly dragging his feet, but it wasn’t the desperate sort of fatigue he’d felt earlier, more of a gentle, almost comforting, sleepiness.
“Well, Wright, what’s next?” Edgeworth asked with a wry smile.
Phoenix smiled back. He’d never expected Edgeworth to be so easygoing and spontaneous; perhaps it was the late (early) hour bringing it out of him. “Well, I guess… I don’t want to be too far from Maya. Maybe we should head back to the Gatewater? Though I guess they wouldn’t want us loitering in their lobby…”
“About that…” Edgeworth tapped his fingers against his leg. “I… I might have a room reserved there. Already.”
Phoenix blinked.
“My apartment was sold!” Edgeworth protested. “The Gatewater is the nicest hotel in the area, association with murders notwithstanding, and its proximity to work and to the case was, well… it was convenient. I would have told you last night as an option, but you were so desperate to leave-”
“No, yeah, I definitely couldn’t have spent the night there,” Phoenix agreed vehemently. “But I- I don’t know. I’m feeling better, now. Calmer. And being in the same building as Maya and Pearl would be ideal.” He reddened. “I mean, I shouldn’t have assumed you were offering-”
Edgeworth rolled his eyes. “Wright, we’ve already shared a bed,” he said bluntly. “I believe returning to the Gatewater for further rest would be the most logical move, considering the circumstances.”
That settled it, then. Trying not to grin too widely—things had just been so dark, after all, everyone was slightly traumatized, he wasn’t allowed to feel this much joy this fast—Phoenix got into Miles’ car.
W / T \ Y
Phoenix slept soundly through the rest of the night, curled up against Edgeworth, knowing that his ringer was all the way up if anyone called. But Maya slept soundly, too, and was much cheerier and calmer come daylight. They all ended up in her and Pearl’s room, feasting off of room service courtesy of Edgeworth.
Despite his decision to take a vacation, there were so many things Phoenix needed to do at the office, and back at his apartment. Simple things like cleaning, less simple things like paperwork to wrap up this whole mess of a case. After breakfast, Edgeworth offered to drop him off.
“You really don’t have to,” Phoenix hedged. He didn’t want Miles to feel he was being taken advantage of, particularly not after everything that had passed between them the night before.
“Of course I don’t have to,” Edgeworth scoffed, straightening his jacket. It was looking a little more creased than his usual impeccably stiff lines, but Phoenix was sure his own suit looked worse, as it was still crumpled in a ball on the floor of his bedroom. “I am perfectly aware of my personal agency and free will.”
Maya was grinning at them over the breakfast table, chin propped up on her hand. “He waaaaants to, Nick,” she said teasingly, which told Phoenix all he needed to know about exactly how much she’d been picking up about the two of them.
He fled the scene as fast as possible with Edgeworth close behind and tried to figure out how he was ever going to answer any of Maya’s inevitable barrage of questions if he didn’t even exactly know what was going on. Were he and Miles… dating? Had that just be a one-night thing?
When Edgeworth arrived at Phoenix’s office, he executed a neat parallel parking job and turned off the car. “Shall we part ways for a bit?” he suggested. “I need to finalize some of the finer details of my future plans, and I would not want to distract from your work.”
Phoenix felt his face fall slightly, even though he knew it was reasonable, if not smart, for them to do their own thing for a bit. They’d been literally and/or figuratively attached at the hip for over twelve hours now, and Phoenix still had a lot to process.
But he didn’t want Edgeworth to leave. He was so absolutely addicted to the steady, bracing presence of the other man. It made everything easier, softer, gentler. What if things got to be too much again? What if he needed Miles beside him to help him through it? Would he be brave enough to call and ask, should something happen?
“Perhaps…” Edgeworth spoke again before Phoenix could spiral too far and too hard. “Perhaps we could meet for dinner, later?”
Phoenix’s face lit up in a smile. “Yeah, I’d love that,” he said, reaching out and squeezing Edgeworth’s arm.
Edgeworth nodded once, almost shyly. He got out of the car when Phoenix did and walked him to the door. Phoenix hesitated, wiping his sweaty palms on his thighs in a way he hoped was inconspicuous. “Uhhh, thank you, again, for everything. For being there for me and- and for Maya. I don’t know where we’d be without you, right now.”
He didn’t voice the fact that Maya would most likely be dead, or Engarde would be free, or somehow, in a true curse of luck, both.
Edgeworth nodded again. “I… of course. If you need anything further, even just between now and dinner, please don’t hesitate to call.”
Phoenix smiled at him. His heart was beating very quickly all of the sudden, but it didn’t feel like fear or a panic attack, just…
Anticipation.
He swallowed dryly and stepped forward, carefully cupping Miles’ jaw. There was just the barest rough hints of patchy stubble there. “Can I-?”
Miles’ eyes blew wide, his breath shaking against the inside of Phoenix’s wrist. He licked his lips and nodded and Phoenix leaned in and kissed him.
It wasn’t a particularly dramatic kiss. It wouldn’t win any awards had anyone dared to catch the two of them on film. But Miles’ hands slid along Phoenix’s shoulders and pulled him close, and Phoenix slipped his fingers into the hair at the nape of Miles’ neck, and they were so perfectly in sync, just as they had been all last night, just as they had always been, even amidst all the mistakes and trials and tribulations.
When Edgeworth eventually got back in his car, Phoenix took a moment to lean against the door and sigh, deeply, very nearly a swoon.
He’d have a few more answers to Maya’s inevitable questions, now.