Work Text:
Miles sighs.
The work day is nearing its end, a fact that he’s grateful for. What he’s not happy with is his ever-increasing workload and the feeling of the sun blazing through his window and warming his back. Every day, the natural warmth is a comfort until around midday when he starts to overheat. Which is how his maroon blazer has ended up over the back of his chair, leaving him in his white button-down and vest. Phoenix’s favorite version of the man, a sentiment expressed many times.
As Miles sighs, he leans back in his desk chair, rubbing his temple. It’s been a long day, but it’s coming to a close. He can start to pack up and head home. Phoenix has court late today, which means it’ll just be Miles and Trucy for a while. Miles thinks of her and the quiet night he’ll get to go home to.
That is, until his phone rings.
In spite of himself, he laughs. Shaking his head, he can’t help the amused sigh that escapes him. Why would he ever think it would be so easy?
Picking up his cellphone, he sees that it’s Apollo who is calling. It piques his curiosity a bit; the boy always calls Phoenix when he needs either of the men. For Apollo to be calling Miles directly is new, but certainly not unwelcome. In an indirect way, Apollo and Klavier feel like sons or nephews to Miles.
So, in an easy motion, Miles answers the call and brings the phone up to his ear.
“Hello, Edgeworth speaking,” he says, mostly out of habit.
“...Hi. It’s Apollo. I’m sorry to call, are you busy?”
“No need to apologize. If I had been busy, I wouldn’t have answered the phone. What can I do for you?”
As Miles speaks, he’s leaned all the way back in his chair, his leg pushing on the wood of his desk to spin himself a bit. Something he’d be embarrassed to be caught doing. But he’s loosened up a lot in these past few years.
“Is Mr. Wright still in court?” the boy asks.
“Is this a work call or a personal call, son?”
“Um… personal?”
“Then no need to be so formal. But yes, Phoenix is in court. He said he probably wouldn’t be out until late.”
There’s a moment of silence on the line before Apollo realizes he needs to respond verbally. A weak ‘oh’ is all he manages.
“Is everything okay, Apollo?”
“...I need help.”
The quiet admission takes Miles off guard. He stops the slight spinning he had been doing, his brows furrowing. He shifts to sit up.
“Are you hurt?” Miles asks immediately. It’s always his first question.
Apollo hesitates before he finally responds.
“Yeah.”
The one simple word makes Miles stand up and quickly grab his belongings. Usually the answer to that question is ‘no,’ so now he’s definitely worried. Apollo is hurt, can’t get in touch with Phoenix, and didn’t know who else to call. Where the hell is Klavier? Miles doesn’t dwell on it for too long as he turns out his office lights and starts heading down the back stairwells.
“What happened? Do I need to call an ambulance for you?”
“No! Er, no. Please don’t.”
“Apollo. Regardless of if you want me to or not, do I need to call?”
“I don’t think so. I don’t think it’s that bad…”
Miles sighs. He makes it out to the parking lot, quickly getting into his car and starting it up. He mutes the music and puts the call on speakerphone.
“Are you at home?”
“Yes.”
“Alone? Klavier isn’t with you?”
“No. He’s… busy.”
Something about those words don’t sit well with Miles, but he lets it go for now. There’s more pressing issues to deal with first before they unpack that.
Miles keeps Apollo on the line, the two of them talking as the former drives. Thankfully, the traffic isn’t too bad, even with it being after-work rush hour. He keeps asking Apollo questions, trying to gain as much information as he can. The boy is cooperative for the most part, but won’t let on as to how he’s hurt. When that comes up, he sort of dances around a straight answer. Miles knows it’s deliberate. He doesn’t press or yell over it.
Apollo and Klavier’s apartment isn’t far from the downtown offices, so Miles knows he’ll be there soon and be able to check things out. He can tell the boy is stressed and upset, but it doesn’t seem to be a full-blown crisis. If it is, then Apollo is a much better actor than Miles ever gave him credit for.
As Miles parks and hops out of his car, he talks into the line, narrating to Apollo where he’s at. He keeps the line connected even as he knocks on the apartment door, not hanging up until it finally comes open.
On the other side of the door, Apollo looks sheepish and somewhat guilty as he lets Miles in. He’s in casual clothes, as he didn’t go to work today.
As he steps in, Miles quickly glances around, surveying the apartment for any threats or something of the like. He quickly looks to Apollo as he closes the door behind him.
“Okay, seriously now. I need you to tell me how you’re hurt so I can help you. You felt it was important enough to call me, so I know it’s not ‘nothing.’”
When the boy hesitates, Miles’s hand clamps down on his shoulder. Not roughly, but firm and guidingly. Apollo suddenly really feels the gap in their ages, the years between them. He feels a bit childish as Miles makes him sit down on the couch and kneels in front of him.
“You’re not going to be in trouble, and I’m not going to think less of you for any of this. Don’t worry about that, okay? Can you speak?”
Miles’s voice has softened considerably, taking on more of a tone he would use with Trucy than his friends or acquaintances. It doesn’t help Apollo’s feeling of being the kid in this situation, but he has to admit that it does soothe his nerves a bit.
At Miles’s question, Apollo realizes he hasn’t spoken at all since the man arrived. He stopped talking towards the end of the phone call.
“...Yes. Sorry,” he whispers, looking down at the man’s worried expression.
“Good,” Miles says, his shoulders relaxing a bit. “Then I need you to talk to me. Are you hurt physically?”
As Miles asks, he takes Apollo’s arms into his hands, feeling them over for possible fractures or other injury.
“Yeah, but… It’s not like that.”
“What do you mean?”
Apollo pauses for a moment, then takes a deep breath and starts rambling. He forces himself to pour out what happened, knowing that if he doesn’t just do it, he’d probably dance around it forever.
“Klavier and I had a fight. He left after, going out with some of his friends or something. I was really riled up and took one of my meds. But I didn’t calm down, and couldn’t really remember too well, so I ended up taking another. And then I fell asleep and took two more when I woke up.”
Miles’s heart drops, but he doesn’t let it show on his face. He knows that Apollo struggles with pretty bad anxiety and takes medicine for it. But for him to accidentally take that much…
“Okay. Alright. I need the bottle, okay?” Miles says calmly.
“I’m not gonna take more, I—”
“Apollo,” the man cuts him off. “I just need to see the bottle. I’m not taking it from you.”
After a moment of hesitation, the boy nods and stands up to go get the bottle from his room. When he stands, his head spins and his arm shoots out to grab onto something for support. There’s nothing close enough. Miles’s arms immediately shoot out to steady him.
“Hey, hey, hey. Okay. It’s okay, bud. It’s okay,” Miles soothes quietly as he lowers the boy back onto the couch.
Miles, looking Apollo over, can see that the boy is pale and dizzy. He’s warm but his skin has goosebumps. Miles hurries down the hall and into the boy’s bedroom, finding the bottle of medicine. He reads over the label as he quickly returns to the living room.
“Apollo, these have a pretty high dose. You’re sure you took four?”
The boy only offers a sluggish nod, his body leaning over onto Miles’s side. Miles immediately snakes an arm around him for support, using his free hand to slip his phone out of his pocket. He types the medicine’s name into the search bar, quickly finding the side effects listed for overconsumption of it. His eyes scan the list quickly, and he determines that they’ll have to go to the ER.
“Polly,” he says, shifting to be in the boy’s line of sight but still propping him up. “I know you don’t want to, but I need to take you to the hospital. No ambulance. Consider it our compromise. It’s not far. I’m gonna drive you, okay?”
Apollo just nods weakly into Miles’s shoulder, no longer able to put up a fight.
So, steeling himself for what lies ahead, Miles stands, being careful to not jostle the boy too much. Once he’s up, he reaches down and hoists Apollo up from under his arms. He mumbles apologies as the boy groans. It’s really in this moment that he realizes just how fond he’s grown of the kid. The hollow, worried feeling in his stomach makes it all too clear.
It’s a bit of a struggle, but they make it down to Miles’s car. Miles helps Apollo into the passenger seat, fastening the seatbelt when the boy makes no move to.
Quickly, Miles steps around the car and gets behind the wheel. He starts it back up and pulls out damn near simultaneously. He quickly pulls out his phone, hitting one of his speed-dial contacts and laying it on the console beside him.
“Hey, Miles! What’s up?” Maya’s cheerful voice comes across the line. It’s jarring to hear such a chipper voice in the middle of this situation.
“I need you or Franziska to go to my house and pick up Trucy. Call her on the landline and let her know she needs to pack an overnight bag and to wait for you by the door.”
There’s a moment of hesitation while Maya processes the words, clearly having not expected this.
“Of course, yeah. Franzi is calling her now. What’s going on? Is Nick okay?”
“Phoenix is in court, he’s fine. I’m taking Apollo to the hospital. Don’t tell Trucy that, okay? Just tell her there was a little emergency I had to take care of, but that everyone is alright.”
“Is everyone alright?”
“He will be. One more thing,” he starts, his hand shooting out to keep the boy next to him from slumping forward as they turn a corner. “I don’t know how hectic it’s going to be up here. Call Phoenix at six-ish and tell him what’s going on.”
“Of course. We’re leaving to pick up Trucy now. Don’t stress about her, we have this side covered.”
With just a bit more back and forth, a steady plan is made and they disconnect the line. Hardly even a minute later, Miles turns into the hospital’s parking lot, parks, and shuts off the car.
He doesn't try to coax Apollo out of the car, knowing that his attempt would probably be futile. He opens the passenger side door and leans down, hooking an arm under the boy's legs and the other around his back.
“It's okay, bud. We're here. It's not gonna hurt,” he murmurs as he hoists the boy into his arms and carries him into the hospital. This isn't really his forte, but he's calm and rational in scary situations, and that counts for something. He's trying his best to be comforting, too, knowing how traumatic this memory will probably be.
Thankfully, by some miracle or divine intervention, they don’t have to wait to be seen. The nurse at the front desk stands when she sees the boy, half conscious, being carried in. A few other nurses follow them down the hall as Miles is guided into a room. He gently shifts Apollo into the bed with the nurses’ help. The entire time, Miles is explaining what happened and exactly what it was that is in the boy’s system.
The nurses don’t seem too panicked, which Miles takes as a good sign. They’re confident that Apollo is going to be okay and just needs a bit of support to get back to himself.
A young female nurse hooks up the IV, talking to Apollo even though they’re not sure if he can hear them. She wraps the tourniquet around his upper arm with practiced ease. Miles, for one, hates having IVs inserted, and really feels for the younger man. Miles gently holds Apollo’s other hand as the needle is inserted and secured.
Apollo’s head lolls to the side, towards Miles. Miles squeezes his hand and leans down a bit.
“It’s okay. Can you hear me?”
After a second, Apollo gives a small nod. Miles and the nurses all look relieved.
The doctor pops in, taking in the situation and being caught up to speed by one nurse who recounts what they know. The doctor nods, writing something down, then tells the nurse something quietly. Just like that, the doctor steps back out.
Miles huffs a sigh of irritation, but, for now, doesn’t cause a scene.
The nurses use the IV to get a sample of Apollo’s blood so they can test it to confirm what all is running through his system. Miles is left alone with the boy for a few minutes as they leave. He sits down in the chair beside the bed, everything about him feeling heavy. He doesn’t let go of Apollo’s hand.
When one nurse comes back, Miles’s attention goes to her.
“What is it?” he asks immediately, seeing the expression on her face.
“You said he only took four of his pills?”
“That’s what he told me, but I didn’t see him take them. Why?”
“...His bloodwork is showing he might have taken more than that.”
Miles sighs heavily, his hand instinctually tightening on Apollo’s. But he nods and takes a breath. Before he can speak, the nurse continues.
“We won’t have to pump his stomach if we can get him to sit up and drink some activated charcoal. We just need to confirm that this was an accident and not a suicide attempt.”
The words are said calmly and professionally. Even so, they make Miles’s heart ache. He shakes his head, at a loss.
“I don’t know. He said he had a fight with his boyfriend, but he didn’t sound distressed. He wasn’t speaking as if this was intentional.”
“Okay. We’re hoping to talk to him when he’s a bit more coherent. The doctor will be in here soon with the charcoal.”
Miles nods, so the woman leaves. He turns to the bed, rubbing up and down Apollo’s arm to offer comfort and warmth, but to also try and rouse him more.
“Apollo? Can you still hear me, son?”
The boy nods again, his head feeling heavy against the back of the bed. The bed is inclined slightly so he’s sitting up. He’s shaking, so Miles takes the liberty to unfold the blanket at the foot of the bed and lay it over the boy’s lap.
“Good. They’re going to bring a cup in here and you need to drink it, okay? You’re going to have to sit up for us.”
“...Call Klav.”
Miles frowns, but he understands. Even if fighting, in a situation like this, you really just want your partner.
“I’ll call Klavier,” he agrees. “Are you going to cooperate with the nurses?”
Apollo nods, not resisting help. That’s a good sign. A sign that this really was an unfortunate accident and not an attempt. Apollo is agreeing to cooperate and get the toxins out of his system. Miles doesn’t bring it up yet, but he’s praying that the doctor doesn’t put the boy into a 72-hour hold. Instead, he just pats Apollo’s free arm and stands up.
“I’m going to be right outside of the door.”
“I want Klav…”
Miles nods, feeling his heart ache. He doesn’t respond, just stepping out into the hall. Sliding his phone out, he sees the time. 05:30. Phoenix will be out of court soon, and God knows both Miles and Apollo need him by their side right now.
For now, Miles finds Klavier’s contact and dials it. He’s frowning as it brings it up to his ear. After several rings, the line connects.
“Ja? Miles?”
“I don’t know what happened between you and Apollo,” Miles says, getting straight to the point. “But he’s in the hospital. He’s practically begging for you.”
The line falls silent for several seconds.
“Shit. Shit, okay, ja. I’m coming. What happened?”
Miles briefly recounts the events to Klavier and tells them the room that they’re in at the hospital. Klavier sounds panicked, and there’s shuffling on his end of the line as he quickly leaves wherever he had been.
After just a couple of minutes, they hang up. Klavier is on his way and Miles goes back to Apollo’s bedside.
The nurse is coming back with the charcoal as Miles steps back into the room. Good timing; Miles hadn’t wanted to leave Apollo alone during this anyway.
“Okay, Polly, you ready to sit up?” Miles asks, trying to steady his voice that’s starting to wear down. Miles is definitely strong, but, with his past, this is definitely all a trigger for him. Seeing someone he cares about, someone so young, in a state he’s contemplated many times before. The whole ordeal has him shaken. But he keeps his demeanor as soothing as possible.
When Apollo consents, Miles moves to help him sit up. He keeps a firm hand on the boy’s back, watching his face for any issues. They give Apollo a second to get used to the position before the nurse hands him the styrofoam cup.
“You need to drink all of it, okay?” the nurse says gently.
Apollo gives a tired nod, using his free hand to accept it. He looks down into the cup, seeing that the contents are pitch black and kind of thick. He’s not looking forward to this, but he also doesn’t really want to die, either. So he sighs heavily and brings the cup up to his lips.
For the first few sips, he has no issues. His expression conveys that it doesn’t taste good, but he powers through it. He gets about half of the cup down before he starts to gag. He gags into the cup, the reaction already setting in. That’s what the medicine is supposed to do; make him throw up and empty his stomach so the poison will leave his system. It’s unpleasant, but it’s better than having a tube down his throat.
When he starts to gag, he pulls the cup away from himself. Miles looks alarmed, his hand rubbing the boy’s back in quick circles in an attempt to comfort.
“I know, I’m sorry, buddy. Take a second to breathe.”
“I feel like I’m drinking a melted tire,” he cries weakly.
Miles and the nurse both give weary, sympathetic smiles at that. The nurse isn’t rushing Apollo, but she has to make sure she sees him drink the whole cup. So she stays quiet by the door.
Despite the sick feeling already starting to arise, Apollo takes a few more big gulps of the charcoal. As he’s doing so, Klavier runs down the hallway. He’s looking at the room numbers on the walls until he finds the one he’s looking for. His face falls when he sees his boyfriend in the bed. He comes in, trying to fight back his tears.
“Liebling, hey, hey, I’m here,” he says, quickly taking side by the bed. He glances over to Miles. “What is this? What’s he drinking?”
Miles explains what’s going on briefly, getting just the basics out before Apollo actually throws up. The poor boy throws up onto the bed and is suddenly really thankful for the blanket that Miles spread over him earlier. The pristine white covers now have a big patch of black on them, and he starts to cry.
“It’s okay,” the nurse says quickly. “Easy fix.”
As she speaks, clearly used to this, she takes the blanket off of him and it’s quickly replaced with a new one. She sets a few emesis bags on the bed beside him, knowing he’s going to need them.
Miles has stepped back, giving Klavier the spot to stand right beside Apollo. Both stay close.
Klavier is crying, too, which doesn’t irritate Miles as much as it normally would. Hell, he wants to burst into tears with them. But someone has to be strong.
Eventually, Apollo manages to get the whole cup down. The nurse eases it out of his hand as he starts to get sick again. It’s painful to see him like this. He can’t help the vomiting, as the medicine is forcing everything up. It’s clear he hates it.
When there’s a lull in the sickness, he lets out a heavy breath and leans back. He’s sweating. Klavier reaches up and gently brushes the messy hair off of his lover’s forehead. Apollo mumbles something unintelligible, but Klavier nods anyway, holding their hands tightly together.
After not too long, Apollo’s eyes shut as his body forces him to rest. Klavier finally lets himself sit down, keeping the chair as close to Apollo’s bedside as possible. It’s clear that the rockstar is feeling a large swirl of emotions.
Fear, love, guilt, sadness, protectiveness.
Miles dims the lights so Apollo can rest easier, then steps out into the hallway. Everything just happened in a blur. He’s clearly a bit rattled, but he checks his phone anyway. He has several texts from Phoenix, who is now out of court, and a couple from Maya.
He opens Phoenix’s thread of messages first, finding out that his husband will be here any minute. Maya’s thread is simply a picture of Trucy in the backseat of Franziska’s car, proof that the little girl is in safe hands. Miles attaches a heart to the picture before pocketing his phone.
He takes a second to lean back against the wall and just breathe. He closes his eyes, his chin tilted up, resetting his nervous system in a practiced way. After a couple of minutes, he forces himself to open his eyes. He walks down the long hall, heading back to the front desk area to wait for Phoenix.
He doesn’t have to wait long. Phoenix comes through the door, not panicked, knowing Apollo is being taken care of, but definitely worried. His eyebrows are furrowed and stay that way even after he spots his husband.
“Hey,” he says as he makes it in. “Is he okay? What happened? Maya said you didn’t tell her anything, just that you were bringing him up here. Is he okay?”
As he speaks, his hand automatically finds home in Miles’s. An automatic habit the two of them don’t even notice anymore.
“He’s okay. He’s resting now, stable.”
He takes a big breath before he speaks again.
“He overdosed,” he continues. Phoenix is about to freak out, so Miles talks over him, squeezing his hand. “Accidental. He had a fight with Klavier and his head wasn’t on straight. He took more pills than he meant to.”
“Oh my God. You said he’s okay?”
“We made it in time so that they didn’t have to pump his stomach. He threw up for a while, but it’s all out of his system now. He’s fine. Just… so exhausted.”
Phoenix lets out a heavy sigh and shakes his head. He hates when any of his family are hurt or sick, especially his mentee that he sees like a son.
—-
In the hospital room, it’s quiet save for the beeping of the machines attached to Apollo. The boy is resting, slumped over a bit on himself. He doesn’t get to be out for long before his body decides it’s uncomfortable. He huffs and shifts in the bed.
“Hey, careful,” Klavier coos, reaching out to help his boyfriend adjust the blankets. He keeps a careful eye on the IV, knowing that Apollo would freak out if it got bumped.
“Mm… You’re here?”
Klavier nods softly, giving a weak smile.
“Of course I’m here, Liebling. I wouldn’t dream of being anywhere else right now.”
“Not even at that concert?”
That shuts Klavier up for a second. He frowns and looks down at their intertwined hands. He sighs.
“I’m sorry for walking out like that,” he whispers.
“Mmph.”
“Seriously. I'm sorry for yelling and I'm sorry for leaving in the middle of a fight. I didn't… I didn't know this would happen.”
“I didn't do it on purpose. Like, to make you feel bad. I wasn't trying to kill myself.”
Klavier softens as he listens to Apollo's words. He knew that his boyfriend wasn't that kind of guy, but it helps to hear it said out loud. This wasn't on purpose. But still, in a way, it was kind of his fault.
“I still feel guilty, Polly. Your anxiety was so high because of me. That's what led to this.”
Apollo can't argue with that, so he falls quiet. He blinks slowly at Klavier, almost as if memorizing his face before he can be pulled under again.
“...Let's not fight anymore. I'm not mad anymore,” he murmurs, his voice thick.
Klavier gives a teary laugh and nods, bringing up his other hand so both of them are holding Apollo's free one.
“I can definitely agree to that.”
“If we get mad at each other… Can we do it like Phoenix and Miles? They don't yell at each other.”
Klavier nods, understanding what Apollo is trying to say. It's not often that the older men truly get mad at each other, but it has happened before. But the men never yelled. They might bicker here and there, but they always take some time apart and then try to talk things out rationally. It's clear that Apollo admires them for that.
“Of course. I'm willing to try, Liebling.”
After that, Klavier just leans down and rests his forehead on the bed next to Apollo. Apollo himself lays his head back and drifts back off to sleep. His monitor is beeping steadily, so there's nothing to worry about. They can all take a breath and regroup.
Phoenix and Miles quietly step into the room, closing the door behind them. Phoenix feels his chest ache when he finally sees the boy. He's quiet as he watches him and Klavier for a minute. Just witnessing the type of love they have. So genuine, even in tough moments like these. Their hands stay intertwined, much like his own with Miles right now.
Klavier lifts his head when he hears the door open and close. He gives a weary smile to them in greeting.
“Hey. You can keep resting. We'll be quiet,” he whispers to the blond.
Klavier doesn't argue. He sinks his head back down onto the edge of the mattress while Phoenix and Miles quietly take a seat on the other side of the room.
—-
It's several hours later, well into the night, when the doctor finally discharges Apollo. She had been hesitant to do so, on the worry that the overdose was intentional and covered up. But in the end, she lets him go.
After getting told as much, everyone starts to shift and get up. Apollo winces as his IV is taken out, but doesn't cry.
Phoenix and Miles grab any of their belongings, making sure that Klavier has his bag, too.
For the first time in several hours, Apollo stands. He shifts off the side of the bed, getting a heavy dizzy sensation once he's on his feet.
Phoenix is closest to him, and his hands immediately go to the boy's shoulders.
“Polly? Are you okay?” he asks, leaning down slightly to check Apollo's face.
Apollo nods, but sits back down on the edge of the bed. Klavier's heart drops, and his expression must betray that, because he feels Miles's hand come down on his shoulder.
“It's normal,” Miles reassures. “He hasn't been up in hours. He just needs a second.”
Phoenix keeps his hands on Apollo as the boy tries to steady himself. The man can tell from the look on Apollo's face that something is up. But Apollo doesn't want to admit it and cause more of a scene after everything he's put them all through today.
Phoenix, of course, is having none of that.
“Talk to me, bud,” he urges gently.
Apollo shakes his head, his face growing awfully pale, as if on the verge of fainting. His system is completely empty. If he had eaten anything today, it would have been brought back up. That, plus the lack of movement, is making him weak.
Phoenix keeps his hands and voice steady as he glances up at Miles.
“Ask a nurse for a wheelchair.”
With a nod, Miles quickly steps out of the room.
Apollo slumps forward against Phoenix's chest, too much of his weight being put off for Phoenix's comfort. The boy is no longer hooked up to the heart rate monitor, so Phoenix snakes his hand down and checks it manually. Slightly elevated, but nothing serious. So he just pats Apollo's back.
Miles returns quickly with the wheelchair, steering it over to Apollo's side. Klavier is holding the bags, an exhausted but still worried look on his face. He watches as Phoenix carefully transfers Apollo into the chair and gets him settled.
The four of them look absolutely wrecked as they leave the hospital. It's the middle of the night, and they've just had such a traumatic day.
Making it out to the parking lot, Klavier speaks up.
“Can we stay with you guys tonight?”
Miles and Phoenix both glance back at him with tired surprise, but nod without discussion.
Miles gently transfers Apollo into the backseat of his car, Klavier quickly getting in on the other side. Apollo simply lays down across his boyfriend's lap. He probably won't remember any of this in the morning.
The married men have some sort of quick discussion outside of the car before they get in. Phoenix drives this time, knowing his husband needs a break. They all need a break. About a whole month would do them some good right now.
So, putting the car in drive, Phoenix turns out of the parking lot and into the empty street. He'll get them all home safe. He always does.