Retribution
This is my favorite short story I've done for the meme. It's just... wicked. It's nothing like my head cannon, but it's twisted.
It had been years since the two men had met, but there were some wounds that had a habit of eluding the famous healing power of time. The flash of silver and magenta in the hallway made Phoenix’s heart jump, although not like it once had.
That surge of rage like bile in the back of his throat.
“Miles Edgeworth.” he greeted, lips curling back in a spiteful grin.
“Wright.” Miles returned without glancing up, seating himself quickly.
“It’s been a while.” Phoenix pointed out saucily. “I thought you’d forgotten me.”
“Don’t flatter yourself.” Mils cut him off. “I came here to talk.”
Phoenix readjusted himself, slouching, legs spread. “Surely the great Miles Edgeworth didn’t take all this time out of his schedule just to talk.” he taunted. “Go ahead, use those legendary connections of yours.” Miles didn’t respond or even acknowledge the comment, choosing to study the folder he had carried in with him. “For old time’s sake.” he continued, leading him on, trying to force a reaction. “Tell me, Miles, do you still like your victims bound?”
Miles flushed, but hid it quickly. “Don’t be stupid, Wright.” he replied, his voice even. “You’re in jail. You need my help.”
“Still high and mighty.” Phoenix chuckled darkly. “I could call you ‘your majesty’. Would that get you off?”
“Phoenix Wright!” Miles hissed, dropping the folder.
“The Demon Prosecutor.” Phoenix pushed. “My little Demon Lord.” he arched his neck suggestively. “Aren’t you curious?” eyes closed. “If I still taste the same?” he was driving hard, too far, and he knew it. He couldn’t care less.
“Whatever you think you’re doing…” Miles choked, trying to gain composure.
“Just having a little fun.” he shot back. “It’s been so long since we‘ve played.”
“You are in jail for murder.” Each word was hard and enunciated with strained self control.
“And what’s the problem?” Phoenix taunted through half-closed eyes. “That you don’t get to prosecute this time?” There was a flash of pain. He had scored a direct hit. Miles chewed his lip for a second, choosing words. “Don’t worry. I’ll screw with the system enough for both of us.” Pain and rage. Welcome to the club, Miles. Enjoy your stay.
“You…!” Miles choked it like he’d taken a hit to the stomach. “You can hardly…”
“Go to hell, Edgeworth.” Like teasing a gorilla at the zoo.
“To hell with you!” he spat back, rising. Phoenix was sure he’d head for the door, but he stayed. “Goddamn you and your pride.”
“I pale in comparison to my king.” Phoenix returned with an exaggerated bow.
“My pride…” Miles growled. “Where was my pride when you lost your badge?”
“Always back to the badge.” Phoenix rolled his eyes. “You could stop being so pompous. A lot of good you…”
The glass rattled violently as Miles slammed his fist against it. “I…!” he was almost lost now, eyes wide, struggling to keep his breath even. “I… You…”
“Yes, Miles?” mock innocence.
“You didn’t even care!” Miles spat out. “You just let them…”
“And you rode in like a goddamn white knight. You and your connections.” a wicked smirk. “They always worked when you broke the rules, didn’t they?”
“I tried!”
There was something in the pain in Miles’ voice that drove Phoenix further, an irrational, sadistic mania. All those years of arguing, Miles with his idiotic petitions and lectures, all that pointless labor trying to drag him back into the system that had betrayed him and spit him out. That bloated self-importance that had finally torn them apart. “Of course you did.” Phoenix cooed.
“I…” Miles paused, trying to gain composure, shaking slightly, he’d never seen the reserved man this upset outside of an earthquake. “I only wanted to help.” his voice was strained and weak, and painfully honest.
“When have I ever needed your help?”
Miles’ head lowered in defeat. “Damn you.” he choked. “Damn you, Phoenix.”
He didn‘t have his magatama with him, but he could almost see the shattered locks around him, his raw, defenseless defeat. “I love it when you talk dirty.” head cocked to one side. “Are you sure you don’t want to come in here?”
Pain. Delicious pain. His own head was pounding, his heart racing. It was a high he hadn’t felt in years. That face, those hands he’d once known so well… he could remember a time when he’d loved Miles Edgeworth, but it was like recalling an old schoolyard crush. All the real emotion had long since bled out of the memories.
Their last night together, Miles had torn into him with everything he’d had. That self-righteous bastard. The man that had built his career on lies and deception didn’t like what he’d become. That huge, stupid speech about not giving up from the man who’d faked his own suicide. He’d remembered even at the time that he’d been surprised that the feelings he’d felt at the time weren’t pain but anger. Perhaps that had been when love broke, perhaps it had been long before. Their relationship had snapped like a twig so brittle it had been hard to believe it had ever been alive. He still remembered the surprise in Miles’ eyes when he’d thrown the arrogant bastard bodily out of his apartment. He still recalled the way the way he’d sputtered, stammered, finally had tried to kick the door in.
He couldn’t remember most of what he’d said, just the rage it had inspired. The rage that still lived in him today. “Miles.” that mocking sweet voice.
He was crying. That insensitive idiot was actually crying. Phoenix watched it with a sense of mortified glee. “Awwww… what’s the matter?”
Miles didn’t raise his head. “I…” his voice cracked. “I loved you.” his voice was a harsh whisper, almost lost in hiccupping chokes.
Love… There had been a time. Once, a long time ago, like a fairy tale. Had they really been that happy? Had it really been that good? He recalled once, lifetimes ago, those words whispered in the present tense under very different circumstances. Warm skin and cool sheets and an alabaster shoulder for a pillow. That lovesick moron that had been himself had accepted those words then, even returned them. Those long fingers, delicate but not feminine, in his hair. An old, arid dream.
Phoenix looked at his opponent for the first time in the argument. That silky grey hair, thin eyebrows over teary eyes that couldn’t meet him. Broad shoulders that drooped in defeat. He was strikingly handsome, but it was like looking at a sculpture. He could only admire the handiwork that went into him, the fine composure. He could feel nothing for the creation itself. Here was Miles, once his lifetime dream, pouring out his broken heart for him, and he couldn‘t even appreciate the gesture. Or was it an act? Did it even matter? “You’re not even a good time to me anymore.” he murmured, wondering at his own hardened strength.
At that Miles surprisingly seemed to calm. Forcing himself to straighten, he squared his shoulders and looked at him with red, bleary eyes. “I know you’ve got something planned.” he smiled weakly, dazedly. “I wish you the best.”
“I’m sure you do.” Phoenix replied cynically.
The lost smile didn’t droop. “I wish I could understand you, Phoenix Wright.” he continued, gathering his lost papers. “I’m sure it will be spectacular.”
“I’m full of surprises.”
“Yes.” Miles chuckled feebly. “That, you certainly are.” he paused, looking around the room, trying to gain his senses. He seemed to notice the door, like he‘d forgotten its existence. “Goodbye, Phoenix.”
“Don’t be a stranger.” The shocked look on the guard’s face at the famous prosecutor’s lack of composure was an enchanting final blow. “Miles Edgeworth.” he grinned the words to himself as the guard to escort him back to his cell. He slept well that night.
I've been in a bad mood recently, anyway. Anyone have any evil fics they'd like to see filled? I could use some more BAAAAWW fodder. I'd preffer Phoenix and Miles.
If people respond, I might start putting fics here too.