Scarred Soul: Chapter Two
Title: Scarred Soul
Author: twilights_blue
Rating: PG-13 for now
Warnings: Eventual slash, lack of beta, etc.
Chapter: Two
Summary: He was going to regret it. With his level of exhaustion, it would be risky to do it. And yet, as Miles watched Wright’s worried expression, he found himself starting to speak.
Phoenix should’ve known that this would happen.
It had been three days since his (fight?) conversation with Edgeworth, and he felt that it was safe enough now to talk to the prosecutor again without the risk of getting his head ripped off. He had everything planned: he would call Edgeworth and simply talk about work and other benign topics in an attempt to stay on the man’s good side. Then, once he was sure that everything was comfortable again between them, Phoenix would begin to ask questions. Subtle ones, of course, but he would make sure he eventually got his answers.
There was, however, an overlooked flaw in the defense attorney’s plan.
The first time Phoenix called Edgeworth’s office, his secretary politely stated that Mr. Edgeworth was extremely busy and wasn’t taking any calls at the moment. Could she maybe take a message for him? Phoenix complied easily enough. It made sense that the prosecutor was busy - he was notorious for a work ethic that would have killed most men.
When he called again the next day, however, and got the same response, Phoenix began to get suspicious. And when he received the same result the day after that, he had to admit that Edgeworth was avoiding him.
Why he didn’t see this coming, however, escaped him. How could Phoenix have ever suspected that the normally tight-lipped prosecutor would open up after his constant pressure the other day? Obviously trying to talk to Edgeworth had been a mistake.
So Phoenix decided to move on to his next plan: ask Edgeworth’s coworkers. However, as he thought about it, the attorney realized that this course of action only led him to one person for questioning. Still, it was better than nothing, right? With a sigh, Phoenix once more picked up his phone and dialed a number.
Gumshoe answered almost instantly, cheerfully greeting Phoenix as soon as he introduced himself. After getting the normal, friendly banter that normally came with a greeting out of the way, Phoenix began to ask his questions. The detective, however, proved to be unable to provide anything new. No, Edgeworth had never acted oddly around Gumshoe, and no, the prosecutor had never completely lost his temper while working. In fact, he only ever got slightly irritated whenever Gumshoe did something wrong. Never angry, just annoyed.
Feeling as if he was missing something, Phoenix began to subtly pressure the detective, rephrasing his questions in an attempt to retrieve any information Gumshoe may have been leaving out. He still ended up with dead ends. Frustration rising, he was about to increase the harshness of his questioning when something struck him.
What, exactly, was he doing? Right now Phoenix was acting as if he was in the middle of a trial, pressing Gumshoe like a reluctant witness. Was that really the right way to approach a problem with his friend - through the cold, insensitive methods most commonly used in court? Phoenix didn’t think so. Besides, Edgeworth’s personal life deserved better treatment than this.
After a few quiet words to the harried-sounding Gumshoe, the defense attorney hung up. The sudden realization of his actions caused Phoenix to feel more than a tad guilty about how he had been approaching the situation. And hadn’t he been acting like that the other day, when initially asking Edgeworth what was wrong? He had. And, even as a small part of his mind argued that the prickly prosecutor was nearly impossible to talk to if a courtroom-like tone wasn’t used (hence his actions), Phoenix realized that he owed an apology to Edgeworth.
Which was why, once again, he was listening to Edgeworth’s secretary make excuses.
“Look, Mr. Wright, Mr. Edgeworth is still refusing to take any calls at this time. If you could possibly wait just a day or two, then I’m sure--”
“That’s okay,” Phoenix quickly said, cutting the secretary off before she riled herself up too much. “I just…needed to tell him something. It’s not too important. If you could just leave him my message…?”
A slightly exasperated sigh. “I always do, Mr. Wright. Good bye.”
Hanging up, Phoenix leaned back in his seat and stared at his office’s ceiling, thinking. He couldn’t shake the feeling that Edgeworth was avoiding him. If he was, though, then the defense attorney’s attempts at contacting him would be a waste. But maybe, just maybe, he was being overworked, like his secretary was claiming. Phoenix wanted to believe that, because he had no idea how to fix this problem if he continued getting the silent treatment.
With a sigh, Phoenix looked back down at his desk, sweeping his current thoughts aside for later worrying. Right now he had a case to prepare for.
~*
Miles entered his office late one night with a heavy sigh. He was tired, unbelievably so, and he could feel his exhaustion laying heavily on him, close to his bones. For the last five days he had been wrapped up in an important case that had called for all the skill he could muster. This, of course, meant that Miles had worked late every single night and into the wee hours of the next morning. Every night, however, as he tried to get some much-needed sleep after work, he had jolted awaked in less than an hour, haunted by the nightmares that Wright had recently reawakened in his subconscious.
So his overbearing workload, coupled with his inability to sleep an entire night through, left Miles nearly staggering with exhaustion by the time the case was done. By all rights, he should have been home, attempting - and failing once again - to get some sleep. And yet he was here, in his office, unable to leave yet. He needed to check the work that had piled up for the last five days during his preoccupation. His need for control and order asked for nothing less than a quick once-over of any new files before going home.
As he approached his desk, Miles was pleasantly surprised to find that it was nearly empty. No new files or cases had been given to him during his last job. Most likely his secretary had caught each one as it had entered his office and secretly reassigned them to other, less busy prosecutors. She was always concerned about how much work her boss was doing, so the idea of her doing such a thing was not an outlandish one. Miles smiled at this theory and made a mental note to give her a raise for her efforts.
The only thing sitting on the desktop was a small pile of notes - the messages that had come in during his case. Miles had requested that all his calls be screened until the case was done in order to minimize distractions. Now he sat down at his desk and quickly flipped through the messages, curious to see what he had missed these last five days.
Most of the notes seemed to be about normal work things: Gumshoe losing an autopsy report, Payne asking for advice on a case, and a request to supervise one of the newer prosecutors in a couple days. Miles put these messages aside to be dealt with later. As he glanced down at the next series of messages on his desk, Miles felt the easy drowsiness he had been slipping into evaporate.
The next message simply said, “Mr. Wright called” in his secretary’s neat handwriting. No elaboration, just a remark. Miles frowned a little at the name written on the paper. Wright. How could the prosecutor forget that damned conversation with the attorney less than a week ago? It was the reason he was tossing and turning during the night instead of getting the sleep his body desperately needed. If Wright had only kept to his own business--
Miles quickly stopped that train of thought by slapping his hand against the desktop as a distraction. He could already feel his scar itching, and he didn’t need anything along those lines happening at that moment. With a small huff of annoyance, he quickly flicked Wright’s message to the side.
Below was yet another message from the attorney, with the same statement written down. He quickly flipped through that one, then another, and another, until he finally reached a differently worded message. It was, again, from Wright, dated just the day before. This time, however, Miles’ secretary had added some notes.
He says he only wants to tell you something. Then, in much smaller letters, He sounds pretty worried, maybe even sad.
Miles stared at the note for a few moments, thinking. The way it was phrased, it almost sounded like Wright had simply given up on the subject of Miles’ recent emotional outbursts. If he truly was depressed, as he had apparently sounded, then maybe Miles could let Wright say whatever was on his mind. It wouldn’t hurt, would it?
After another moment’s thought, Miles stood, suppressing a yawn. Now was not the time to consider such actions. He would think about it later, once he managed to get some decent sleep.
~*
Phoenix was just leaving court for the day when he caught sight of a familiar, magenta clad man walking briskly in front of him.
“Oh, Edgeworth!”
The prosecutor froze and tensed, as if someone had just laid a spotlight on him. Slowly, ever so slowly, Edgeworth turned and gave Phoenix a curt nod. “Wright.”
As Edgeworth started walking again, Phoenix fell in step beside him. “Did you have a trial today?” the attorney asked conversationally.
Edgeworth shook his head. “The Prosecutor’s Office has recently taken on a new lawyer. It was her first trial today, and I was selected to supervise the proceedings. After seeing her performance, I am assured that she will represent our offices well.” He paused, giving Phoenix an inquisitive look. “And you? I assume you had a case today.”
“Yeah.” Phoenix grinned. “It was pretty easy. Got my client a not guilty verdict in a few hours.”
“That’s…good.” Edgeworth looked away, apparently out of things to say, and Phoenix didn’t say anything either. The two walked towards the courthouse doors in silence, until, suddenly, both began to speak at once.
“Listen, Wright--”
“Edgeworth, I--”
Both men stared at each other, startled. Then Edgeworth gestured at Phoenix, having regained his composure. “You first.”
“Well, I just wanted to apologize for badgering you the other day,” Phoenix explained. “I realized it was really the wrong way to go about the whole problem. I’m sorry if I managed to aggravate you even further that night.”
“Your apology is accepted,” Edgeworth said graciously. He looked at Phoenix out of the corner of his eye and said, “I, too, wanted to apologize for this last week. I was in the middle of an important case, and had ordered my secretary not to let anyone’s calls reach me until it was over. I only got your messages last night. I hope you didn’t believe I had been avoiding you.”
The attorney shrugged, pushing a door opening and letting them out onto the street. “The thought did cross my mind, yeah. I’m glad, though, that you weren’t. I don’t know what--”
A bus crammed with people trundled by as Phoenix spoke, and the man let out a small, desperate cry. The attorney ran a little after the bus, waving his hand. But the vehicle never slowed, and finally it turned a corner and went out of sight.
“Oh, no…” Phoenix’s shoulders slumped. “What am I gonna do now?”
Edgeworth watched his rival’s antics, slightly amused. “Can’t you simply wait for the next one?”
“But the next bus doesn’t come for another hour,” Phoenix said desperately. “I had been really looking forward to getting home quickly and relaxing…”
“Well, how about I drive you home, then?”
Phoenix looked at Edgeworth with a surprised look, and saw that the prosecutor was mirroring his expression. Apparently Edgeworth had not been expecting to offer his car, either. After a moment, however, the prosecutor managed to school his face to its normal, stoic lines. Clearing his throat, he nodded a little, but whether the confirmation was for himself or for Phoenix was unclear.
“Well? What are you waiting for?” Edgeworth asked with just a hint of impatience. He turned a little, gesturing down the street. “My car is this way.”
“Oh. Um, okay.” Phoenix trailed after Edgeworth, jogging a little to catch up. Once he was once again walking beside his companion, he offered a smile. “Thanks.”
Edgeworth looked away a little, flustered. “Don’t mention it, Wright.”
~*
When they reached Phoenix’s apartment complex, Phoenix couldn’t help but turn to the prosecutor sitting in the driver’s seat and thank him again. He got a small shake of the head in reply.
“As I said before, Wright, think nothing of it.”
“I know, but still.” Phoenix offered a friendly grin with his statement. He then lightly rested his hand on the door handle. “Bye, Edgeworth.”
“I’ll see you in court, Wright,” came the nearly indifferent answer.
As Wright opened the car door and stepped out, Miles had to stifle a yawn. He had not slept - yet again - the night before, and his body was urging him to hurry home and sleep. And yet a small part of his mind forced him to linger, watching Wright, making sure that the attorney entered the building safely.
It seemed like it was a good thing that he had chosen to stay a bit longer. As Wright approached the doors of his apartment building, a man stopped him. There were a few minutes of conversation, with Wright responding in what looked like disbelief and the other man nodding vigorously. The man suddenly walked away again, leaving Wright looking rather dejected. As he looked around, he caught sight of Miles’ car still at the sidewalk and hurried over.
Miles quickly rolled his window down. “Is something wrong?”
Wright bent down so that he was level with Miles’ car window, resting his arms on the sill. “Well, it seems like there’s a little problem with my building. A pipe broke on one of the upper floors, and that managed to spread and flood almost every other floor, mine included.”
Miles’ brows furrowed as he listened. “That is truly unfortunate. What are you planning to do now?”
“Well, the thing is I don’t have enough money on me for a hotel.” Wright grinned sheepishly, rubbing at the back of his neck as he spoke. “I guess I could just head back to my office and sleep on the couch…”
He was going to regret it. With his level of exhaustion, it would be risky to do it. And yet, as Miles watched Wright’s worried expression, he found himself starting to speak.
“I will have none of that, Wright. Since I’m already here, you are welcome to come with me to my house for the night. I have plenty of room.”
Not for the first time that afternoon, Miles watched Wright’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Are you sure, Edgeworth? I really don’t want to impose on you.”
Miles smirked at the other man‘s concern. “It’s fine. I was the one who proposed you stay with me, correct? Therefore, you will not be an imposition.”
Still, Wright took a moment to hesitate. Finally, he opened the car door and sat, shifting a little as he did so. “Thanks Edgeworth,” he murmured gratefully. He paused, then: “Are you really sure about this? I don’t--”
“Wright,” Miles said firmly as he started his car, trying to keep his exhaustion-shortened temper in check as he did so. “For once in your life, just shut up and don’t question anything.”
~*
Miles sighed as he opened his front door, feeling his body start to relax as it settled into the fact that he was home. As he slipped his jacket off and draped it over his arm, the door abruptly clicked shut behind him. Miles jolted, turning to see Wright still near the entryway, his hand resting on the doorknob, looking quizzically at the prosecutor. Miles had forgotten momentarily about the attorney - the journey home had been extremely quiet, allowing Miles to lose himself in his thoughts and forget about his surroundings. He tended to do that when he was suffering from sleep deprivation.
“Ah, please make yourself comfortable, Wright,” Miles murmured. “The guest room is up the stairs, first door on your right. I’m going to get started on dinner.”
As he heard Wright wander up the stairs, Miles went to the kitchen, pulling out the things he’d need to prepare dinner. Soon he lost himself in the easy, methodical food preparation, absently adding ingredients and adjusting heat as his mind wandered. He was humming a light, easy tune by the time the stir-fry he had been cooking was just about ready.
“That smells really good.”
For the second time in the last half hour, Miles jumped, nearly dumping the contents of the pan onto his arm. He turned his head to find Wright just a few feet away. He had removed his jacket and tie while upstairs, rolling the sleeves of his shirt up as well.
“Dammit, Wright, don’t sneak up on me like that,” Miles said crossly as he prepared two plates of food.
“I wasn’t expecting you to startle so easily,” Wright said, clearly amused. “And you know, I don’t think I was that quiet, either.”
Miles huffed, annoyed with his reaction and the way Wright was dealing with the situation. “I was preoccupied,” he said in short explanation.
“Tired, hm?” Wright chuckled at Miles’ blank look. “I tend to do the same thing when I’m running on little or no sleep.” The smile suddenly faded off the attorney’s face to be replaced with a look of concern. “You know, you should be getting more sleep. I know you like to work a lot, but it’s not worth it if you end up as exhausted as you look right now.”
“Thanks for the concern, but I’m fine,” Miles said, a little more sharply than he meant to. As he spoke he offered a dish to Wright. “However, if you are going to keep worrying about it, you’ll be glad to hear that my work load tomorrow is quite light. I plan to rest as much as circumstances allow me to tomorrow.”
“That’s good,” Wright murmured. His face brightened as he took the plate being offered. “Ah, I’m so hungry, and this looks amazing! I can’t wait to eat it.” Wright paused, as if suddenly remembering something. “Is it okay if we watch TV while we eat? There’s a marathon tonight and it has a whole bunch of movies I haven’t seen in years.”
Miles hesitated to answer. His first instinct was to flat out refuse the request, but he knew that if he did, it would only cause an argument. And he really didn’t have the energy to argue well at that point. So he reluctantly nodded his consent. “But if you get a single stain on my couch, Wright,” he warned, “you’re paying the cleaning bill.”
“Duly noted,” Wright said brightly.
The prosecutor quietly led the attorney to his living room, taking a seat on one end of the couch as Wright took the other. Wright quickly discovered the television remote and turned the TV on, rapidly flipping through the channels until he found what he was looking for.
“Oh, good,” the attorney murmured, almost as if to himself, “it just started.”
It was a pirate movie Miles recognized from when he was growing up. If he remembered correctly, it was the first in a trilogy, and all three movies spanned at least two hours. The prosecutor mentally groaned. Was he really expected to stay up for six hours and watch all three movies in a row? He’d fall asleep before the second one even ended! But he couldn’t allow himself to do that, not while Wright was in the room. With nearly a week of sleep deprivation weighing him down, Miles knew that falling asleep with someone else around was a risk he was not about to take. Which meant that he’d have to wait until the attorney decided to sleep. He sighed. Perfect, just perfect.
Pushing such thoughts aside, Miles began to eat and tried to lose himself in the movie. Luckily, the food helped to improve his waning energy levels, if only by a little. He slowly began to relax, enjoying the movie and listening to Wright’s occasional commentary about the ridiculousness of the plot. When was the last time Miles had been able to simply relax like this - a week? A month? He couldn’t remember, but he planned to enjoy it while he could.
Time slowly passed, and Wright’s commentary became more and more infrequent, though Miles didn’t really notice. The prosecutor didn’t even realize what was happening with the other man until the opening of the second movie. At that time, Miles heard Wright shifting on the couch, and then the man’s head suddenly drooped onto Miles’ shoulder, and his arm loosely wrapped around the prosecutor’s waist and pulled him closer.
“Wright?” Miles asked, startled. He got a soft snore in reply. Apparently Miles wasn’t the only one who was exhausted.
His amusement over the irony of the current situation didn’t last, however, as Miles slowly realized that Wright was clinging rather tightly to him. Apparently, when the attorney slept, he picked the most comfortable thing in sight and simply snuggled into it. Unfortunately for Miles, he had been deemed the most comfortable-looking object present, and now he was unable to move without disturbing the other man.
This was bad. As Wright continued to sleep, Miles could feel his own exhaustion creeping back, summoned by the other man’s comforting warmth and scent (clean linen, soap, and something vaguely reminiscent of cinnamon). He deeply, truly wanted to sleep, but also didn’t want to rouse the other man in order to do so. Miles would have been fine with staying where he was, too, if his scar hadn’t been throbbing dully, warningly, telling him what would happen if he slept now, let his guard down here.
But exhaustion dulled his wariness, urging him to sleep in a tempting, enchanting voice. Miles heeded to the call, absently promising himself to wake up early so that he could make sure he looked alright for whenever Wright decided to wake.
With that, Miles sighed, tilted his head back, and let sleep enfold him in its warm embrace.
~*
Phoenix woke up when the pillow he was resting on twitched a little. Letting out a soft murmur of protest, the man slowly lifted himself up into a sitting position. He ran his fingers through his sleep-mussed hair as he blinked and looked around.
He was in the living room of a house that was mostly unfamiliar to him. Before Phoenix could begin to panic, however, the events of the day before came back to him. Missing the bus, his apartment flooding, and then, surprisingly, Edgeworth offering his place for the night. So he was at Edgeworth’s house, then, and had fallen asleep while watching those movies the night before.
That settled, Phoenix stretched and yawned, banishing the last traces of sleepiness from his body for good. He turned as he did so, curious to see if he had actually fallen asleep on Edgeworth, as his memory was telling him he had done. What he actually saw lying on the couch made Phoenix pale considerably, and he had to quickly clap a hand over his mouth in order to bite back a yelp.
A large, dark grey timber wolf was curled up on the couch, fast asleep.
The man stared at the wolf, mind racing. How had he managed to fall asleep with his head resting on a wolf? Had he really been so tired that he hadn’t realized that there was a wild animal right next to him? And why was his mind so convinced that he had fallen asleep on top of Edgeworth? If that was true, did that mean that the wolf in question was actually--?
One of the wolf’s ears twitched, and it growled sleepily, shifting as it did so. Slowly, its eyes fluttered open, and Phoenix saw that they were also grey, though a shade lighter than the animal’s fur. After a moment of blinking sleepily, the wolf lifted its head and yawned, revealing two rows of white, sharp teeth. Once its mouth was closed again, the wolf turned its head, lazily surveying the room, obviously still half-asleep. When it caught sight of the shocked-looking Phoenix, however, it yelped in a way not unlike the yelp Phoenix himself had tried to suppress. Suddenly the wolf was gone, replaced with a slightly rumpled and very panicked Edgeworth.
The two men stared at each other, the room silent, the tension thick enough to be cut with a knife. Edgeworth caved first under the pressure, abruptly getting to his feet and muttering, “I have to go now.”
Under any other circumstance, Phoenix would have been amused by Edgeworth’s attempt to escape his own house. Now, however, he was too shocked to notice, and all he could get to process at that moment was that he needed answers as soon as he could get them. So he stood as well, quickly following the retreating prosecutor. “Edgeworth, wait!”
He caught up with Edgeworth in the hallway leading to the front door. Phoenix grasped the prosecutor’s arm, forcing the man to stop. “Edgeworth, I just--”
“It was nothing.” Though his voice was mostly level, Edgeworth refused to look at the attorney. “It was simply a hallucination. You…you were still dreaming. It was a trick of the light.”
Phoenix couldn’t help but shake his head at Edgeworth’s desperate attempts to reason away what had just happened. “I don’t know which contradiction to respond to first,” the attorney murmured, “the fact that you just gave me three explanations for the same phenomenon, or the fact that if you had let me finish, you would’ve found out that I was only asking you where you were going.”
Edgeworth flinched, though he still refused to turn around. “Wright, please just let this be,” he whispered, desperate.
“I was going to let it go, actually, and wait for you to calm down a bit. However,” Phoenix smiled a little despite the tense circumstances, “you brought it up again. So why don’t we just sit down and talk about what just happened, hm?”
“I already told you, it was--”
“And I just told you that I didn’t believe a word of it.” The attorney huffed, frustrated. “Honestly, Edgeworth, you’re one of the worst liars outside of court.”
The prosecutor suddenly tensed, his hand inching up to rub at his scar. “And if I decide not to talk about this any further?” he asked harshly.
Phoenix shrugged. “You know how determined I can be, Edgeworth. Once I’m curious about something, I won’t stop until I’ve found the answers I want. I think I’ll warn you now that this situation counts as something I’m very curious about.”
Edgeworth apparently knew the truth behind those words. He should have, anyway; he had seen Phoenix run a subject into the ground over and over again in court. Finally, after another moment of tense silence, Edgeworth’s shoulders slumped. “Are you sure we need to talk about this now?” he whispered, defeated.
“I think it’s best to get this out of the way as soon as possible,” Phoenix answered softly.
Finally, ever so slowly, Edgeworth turned to face the attorney. Phoenix studied those stone grey eyes, and caught sight of fear but also resignation. He took that as a step in the right direction.
“Alright, then,” Edgeworth murmured. “You’ll get your answers now, Wright, whether you regret it afterwards or not.”
~*~*~*~*~*
- Dammit, I really need to stop posting at 2 in the morning. I can never spell anything after the midnight mark.
- Once again, if you see any problems, please let me know! I like perfection in my work. :3
- Don't get used to the frequent updating. School starts up again for me starting Monday, and my workload will get much heavier. I'll be lucky to even see my computer, let alone write anything.
Author: twilights_blue
Rating: PG-13 for now
Warnings: Eventual slash, lack of beta, etc.
Chapter: Two
Summary: He was going to regret it. With his level of exhaustion, it would be risky to do it. And yet, as Miles watched Wright’s worried expression, he found himself starting to speak.
Phoenix should’ve known that this would happen.
It had been three days since his (fight?) conversation with Edgeworth, and he felt that it was safe enough now to talk to the prosecutor again without the risk of getting his head ripped off. He had everything planned: he would call Edgeworth and simply talk about work and other benign topics in an attempt to stay on the man’s good side. Then, once he was sure that everything was comfortable again between them, Phoenix would begin to ask questions. Subtle ones, of course, but he would make sure he eventually got his answers.
There was, however, an overlooked flaw in the defense attorney’s plan.
The first time Phoenix called Edgeworth’s office, his secretary politely stated that Mr. Edgeworth was extremely busy and wasn’t taking any calls at the moment. Could she maybe take a message for him? Phoenix complied easily enough. It made sense that the prosecutor was busy - he was notorious for a work ethic that would have killed most men.
When he called again the next day, however, and got the same response, Phoenix began to get suspicious. And when he received the same result the day after that, he had to admit that Edgeworth was avoiding him.
Why he didn’t see this coming, however, escaped him. How could Phoenix have ever suspected that the normally tight-lipped prosecutor would open up after his constant pressure the other day? Obviously trying to talk to Edgeworth had been a mistake.
So Phoenix decided to move on to his next plan: ask Edgeworth’s coworkers. However, as he thought about it, the attorney realized that this course of action only led him to one person for questioning. Still, it was better than nothing, right? With a sigh, Phoenix once more picked up his phone and dialed a number.
Gumshoe answered almost instantly, cheerfully greeting Phoenix as soon as he introduced himself. After getting the normal, friendly banter that normally came with a greeting out of the way, Phoenix began to ask his questions. The detective, however, proved to be unable to provide anything new. No, Edgeworth had never acted oddly around Gumshoe, and no, the prosecutor had never completely lost his temper while working. In fact, he only ever got slightly irritated whenever Gumshoe did something wrong. Never angry, just annoyed.
Feeling as if he was missing something, Phoenix began to subtly pressure the detective, rephrasing his questions in an attempt to retrieve any information Gumshoe may have been leaving out. He still ended up with dead ends. Frustration rising, he was about to increase the harshness of his questioning when something struck him.
What, exactly, was he doing? Right now Phoenix was acting as if he was in the middle of a trial, pressing Gumshoe like a reluctant witness. Was that really the right way to approach a problem with his friend - through the cold, insensitive methods most commonly used in court? Phoenix didn’t think so. Besides, Edgeworth’s personal life deserved better treatment than this.
After a few quiet words to the harried-sounding Gumshoe, the defense attorney hung up. The sudden realization of his actions caused Phoenix to feel more than a tad guilty about how he had been approaching the situation. And hadn’t he been acting like that the other day, when initially asking Edgeworth what was wrong? He had. And, even as a small part of his mind argued that the prickly prosecutor was nearly impossible to talk to if a courtroom-like tone wasn’t used (hence his actions), Phoenix realized that he owed an apology to Edgeworth.
Which was why, once again, he was listening to Edgeworth’s secretary make excuses.
“Look, Mr. Wright, Mr. Edgeworth is still refusing to take any calls at this time. If you could possibly wait just a day or two, then I’m sure--”
“That’s okay,” Phoenix quickly said, cutting the secretary off before she riled herself up too much. “I just…needed to tell him something. It’s not too important. If you could just leave him my message…?”
A slightly exasperated sigh. “I always do, Mr. Wright. Good bye.”
Hanging up, Phoenix leaned back in his seat and stared at his office’s ceiling, thinking. He couldn’t shake the feeling that Edgeworth was avoiding him. If he was, though, then the defense attorney’s attempts at contacting him would be a waste. But maybe, just maybe, he was being overworked, like his secretary was claiming. Phoenix wanted to believe that, because he had no idea how to fix this problem if he continued getting the silent treatment.
With a sigh, Phoenix looked back down at his desk, sweeping his current thoughts aside for later worrying. Right now he had a case to prepare for.
~*
Miles entered his office late one night with a heavy sigh. He was tired, unbelievably so, and he could feel his exhaustion laying heavily on him, close to his bones. For the last five days he had been wrapped up in an important case that had called for all the skill he could muster. This, of course, meant that Miles had worked late every single night and into the wee hours of the next morning. Every night, however, as he tried to get some much-needed sleep after work, he had jolted awaked in less than an hour, haunted by the nightmares that Wright had recently reawakened in his subconscious.
So his overbearing workload, coupled with his inability to sleep an entire night through, left Miles nearly staggering with exhaustion by the time the case was done. By all rights, he should have been home, attempting - and failing once again - to get some sleep. And yet he was here, in his office, unable to leave yet. He needed to check the work that had piled up for the last five days during his preoccupation. His need for control and order asked for nothing less than a quick once-over of any new files before going home.
As he approached his desk, Miles was pleasantly surprised to find that it was nearly empty. No new files or cases had been given to him during his last job. Most likely his secretary had caught each one as it had entered his office and secretly reassigned them to other, less busy prosecutors. She was always concerned about how much work her boss was doing, so the idea of her doing such a thing was not an outlandish one. Miles smiled at this theory and made a mental note to give her a raise for her efforts.
The only thing sitting on the desktop was a small pile of notes - the messages that had come in during his case. Miles had requested that all his calls be screened until the case was done in order to minimize distractions. Now he sat down at his desk and quickly flipped through the messages, curious to see what he had missed these last five days.
Most of the notes seemed to be about normal work things: Gumshoe losing an autopsy report, Payne asking for advice on a case, and a request to supervise one of the newer prosecutors in a couple days. Miles put these messages aside to be dealt with later. As he glanced down at the next series of messages on his desk, Miles felt the easy drowsiness he had been slipping into evaporate.
The next message simply said, “Mr. Wright called” in his secretary’s neat handwriting. No elaboration, just a remark. Miles frowned a little at the name written on the paper. Wright. How could the prosecutor forget that damned conversation with the attorney less than a week ago? It was the reason he was tossing and turning during the night instead of getting the sleep his body desperately needed. If Wright had only kept to his own business--
Miles quickly stopped that train of thought by slapping his hand against the desktop as a distraction. He could already feel his scar itching, and he didn’t need anything along those lines happening at that moment. With a small huff of annoyance, he quickly flicked Wright’s message to the side.
Below was yet another message from the attorney, with the same statement written down. He quickly flipped through that one, then another, and another, until he finally reached a differently worded message. It was, again, from Wright, dated just the day before. This time, however, Miles’ secretary had added some notes.
He says he only wants to tell you something. Then, in much smaller letters, He sounds pretty worried, maybe even sad.
Miles stared at the note for a few moments, thinking. The way it was phrased, it almost sounded like Wright had simply given up on the subject of Miles’ recent emotional outbursts. If he truly was depressed, as he had apparently sounded, then maybe Miles could let Wright say whatever was on his mind. It wouldn’t hurt, would it?
After another moment’s thought, Miles stood, suppressing a yawn. Now was not the time to consider such actions. He would think about it later, once he managed to get some decent sleep.
~*
Phoenix was just leaving court for the day when he caught sight of a familiar, magenta clad man walking briskly in front of him.
“Oh, Edgeworth!”
The prosecutor froze and tensed, as if someone had just laid a spotlight on him. Slowly, ever so slowly, Edgeworth turned and gave Phoenix a curt nod. “Wright.”
As Edgeworth started walking again, Phoenix fell in step beside him. “Did you have a trial today?” the attorney asked conversationally.
Edgeworth shook his head. “The Prosecutor’s Office has recently taken on a new lawyer. It was her first trial today, and I was selected to supervise the proceedings. After seeing her performance, I am assured that she will represent our offices well.” He paused, giving Phoenix an inquisitive look. “And you? I assume you had a case today.”
“Yeah.” Phoenix grinned. “It was pretty easy. Got my client a not guilty verdict in a few hours.”
“That’s…good.” Edgeworth looked away, apparently out of things to say, and Phoenix didn’t say anything either. The two walked towards the courthouse doors in silence, until, suddenly, both began to speak at once.
“Listen, Wright--”
“Edgeworth, I--”
Both men stared at each other, startled. Then Edgeworth gestured at Phoenix, having regained his composure. “You first.”
“Well, I just wanted to apologize for badgering you the other day,” Phoenix explained. “I realized it was really the wrong way to go about the whole problem. I’m sorry if I managed to aggravate you even further that night.”
“Your apology is accepted,” Edgeworth said graciously. He looked at Phoenix out of the corner of his eye and said, “I, too, wanted to apologize for this last week. I was in the middle of an important case, and had ordered my secretary not to let anyone’s calls reach me until it was over. I only got your messages last night. I hope you didn’t believe I had been avoiding you.”
The attorney shrugged, pushing a door opening and letting them out onto the street. “The thought did cross my mind, yeah. I’m glad, though, that you weren’t. I don’t know what--”
A bus crammed with people trundled by as Phoenix spoke, and the man let out a small, desperate cry. The attorney ran a little after the bus, waving his hand. But the vehicle never slowed, and finally it turned a corner and went out of sight.
“Oh, no…” Phoenix’s shoulders slumped. “What am I gonna do now?”
Edgeworth watched his rival’s antics, slightly amused. “Can’t you simply wait for the next one?”
“But the next bus doesn’t come for another hour,” Phoenix said desperately. “I had been really looking forward to getting home quickly and relaxing…”
“Well, how about I drive you home, then?”
Phoenix looked at Edgeworth with a surprised look, and saw that the prosecutor was mirroring his expression. Apparently Edgeworth had not been expecting to offer his car, either. After a moment, however, the prosecutor managed to school his face to its normal, stoic lines. Clearing his throat, he nodded a little, but whether the confirmation was for himself or for Phoenix was unclear.
“Well? What are you waiting for?” Edgeworth asked with just a hint of impatience. He turned a little, gesturing down the street. “My car is this way.”
“Oh. Um, okay.” Phoenix trailed after Edgeworth, jogging a little to catch up. Once he was once again walking beside his companion, he offered a smile. “Thanks.”
Edgeworth looked away a little, flustered. “Don’t mention it, Wright.”
~*
When they reached Phoenix’s apartment complex, Phoenix couldn’t help but turn to the prosecutor sitting in the driver’s seat and thank him again. He got a small shake of the head in reply.
“As I said before, Wright, think nothing of it.”
“I know, but still.” Phoenix offered a friendly grin with his statement. He then lightly rested his hand on the door handle. “Bye, Edgeworth.”
“I’ll see you in court, Wright,” came the nearly indifferent answer.
As Wright opened the car door and stepped out, Miles had to stifle a yawn. He had not slept - yet again - the night before, and his body was urging him to hurry home and sleep. And yet a small part of his mind forced him to linger, watching Wright, making sure that the attorney entered the building safely.
It seemed like it was a good thing that he had chosen to stay a bit longer. As Wright approached the doors of his apartment building, a man stopped him. There were a few minutes of conversation, with Wright responding in what looked like disbelief and the other man nodding vigorously. The man suddenly walked away again, leaving Wright looking rather dejected. As he looked around, he caught sight of Miles’ car still at the sidewalk and hurried over.
Miles quickly rolled his window down. “Is something wrong?”
Wright bent down so that he was level with Miles’ car window, resting his arms on the sill. “Well, it seems like there’s a little problem with my building. A pipe broke on one of the upper floors, and that managed to spread and flood almost every other floor, mine included.”
Miles’ brows furrowed as he listened. “That is truly unfortunate. What are you planning to do now?”
“Well, the thing is I don’t have enough money on me for a hotel.” Wright grinned sheepishly, rubbing at the back of his neck as he spoke. “I guess I could just head back to my office and sleep on the couch…”
He was going to regret it. With his level of exhaustion, it would be risky to do it. And yet, as Miles watched Wright’s worried expression, he found himself starting to speak.
“I will have none of that, Wright. Since I’m already here, you are welcome to come with me to my house for the night. I have plenty of room.”
Not for the first time that afternoon, Miles watched Wright’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Are you sure, Edgeworth? I really don’t want to impose on you.”
Miles smirked at the other man‘s concern. “It’s fine. I was the one who proposed you stay with me, correct? Therefore, you will not be an imposition.”
Still, Wright took a moment to hesitate. Finally, he opened the car door and sat, shifting a little as he did so. “Thanks Edgeworth,” he murmured gratefully. He paused, then: “Are you really sure about this? I don’t--”
“Wright,” Miles said firmly as he started his car, trying to keep his exhaustion-shortened temper in check as he did so. “For once in your life, just shut up and don’t question anything.”
~*
Miles sighed as he opened his front door, feeling his body start to relax as it settled into the fact that he was home. As he slipped his jacket off and draped it over his arm, the door abruptly clicked shut behind him. Miles jolted, turning to see Wright still near the entryway, his hand resting on the doorknob, looking quizzically at the prosecutor. Miles had forgotten momentarily about the attorney - the journey home had been extremely quiet, allowing Miles to lose himself in his thoughts and forget about his surroundings. He tended to do that when he was suffering from sleep deprivation.
“Ah, please make yourself comfortable, Wright,” Miles murmured. “The guest room is up the stairs, first door on your right. I’m going to get started on dinner.”
As he heard Wright wander up the stairs, Miles went to the kitchen, pulling out the things he’d need to prepare dinner. Soon he lost himself in the easy, methodical food preparation, absently adding ingredients and adjusting heat as his mind wandered. He was humming a light, easy tune by the time the stir-fry he had been cooking was just about ready.
“That smells really good.”
For the second time in the last half hour, Miles jumped, nearly dumping the contents of the pan onto his arm. He turned his head to find Wright just a few feet away. He had removed his jacket and tie while upstairs, rolling the sleeves of his shirt up as well.
“Dammit, Wright, don’t sneak up on me like that,” Miles said crossly as he prepared two plates of food.
“I wasn’t expecting you to startle so easily,” Wright said, clearly amused. “And you know, I don’t think I was that quiet, either.”
Miles huffed, annoyed with his reaction and the way Wright was dealing with the situation. “I was preoccupied,” he said in short explanation.
“Tired, hm?” Wright chuckled at Miles’ blank look. “I tend to do the same thing when I’m running on little or no sleep.” The smile suddenly faded off the attorney’s face to be replaced with a look of concern. “You know, you should be getting more sleep. I know you like to work a lot, but it’s not worth it if you end up as exhausted as you look right now.”
“Thanks for the concern, but I’m fine,” Miles said, a little more sharply than he meant to. As he spoke he offered a dish to Wright. “However, if you are going to keep worrying about it, you’ll be glad to hear that my work load tomorrow is quite light. I plan to rest as much as circumstances allow me to tomorrow.”
“That’s good,” Wright murmured. His face brightened as he took the plate being offered. “Ah, I’m so hungry, and this looks amazing! I can’t wait to eat it.” Wright paused, as if suddenly remembering something. “Is it okay if we watch TV while we eat? There’s a marathon tonight and it has a whole bunch of movies I haven’t seen in years.”
Miles hesitated to answer. His first instinct was to flat out refuse the request, but he knew that if he did, it would only cause an argument. And he really didn’t have the energy to argue well at that point. So he reluctantly nodded his consent. “But if you get a single stain on my couch, Wright,” he warned, “you’re paying the cleaning bill.”
“Duly noted,” Wright said brightly.
The prosecutor quietly led the attorney to his living room, taking a seat on one end of the couch as Wright took the other. Wright quickly discovered the television remote and turned the TV on, rapidly flipping through the channels until he found what he was looking for.
“Oh, good,” the attorney murmured, almost as if to himself, “it just started.”
It was a pirate movie Miles recognized from when he was growing up. If he remembered correctly, it was the first in a trilogy, and all three movies spanned at least two hours. The prosecutor mentally groaned. Was he really expected to stay up for six hours and watch all three movies in a row? He’d fall asleep before the second one even ended! But he couldn’t allow himself to do that, not while Wright was in the room. With nearly a week of sleep deprivation weighing him down, Miles knew that falling asleep with someone else around was a risk he was not about to take. Which meant that he’d have to wait until the attorney decided to sleep. He sighed. Perfect, just perfect.
Pushing such thoughts aside, Miles began to eat and tried to lose himself in the movie. Luckily, the food helped to improve his waning energy levels, if only by a little. He slowly began to relax, enjoying the movie and listening to Wright’s occasional commentary about the ridiculousness of the plot. When was the last time Miles had been able to simply relax like this - a week? A month? He couldn’t remember, but he planned to enjoy it while he could.
Time slowly passed, and Wright’s commentary became more and more infrequent, though Miles didn’t really notice. The prosecutor didn’t even realize what was happening with the other man until the opening of the second movie. At that time, Miles heard Wright shifting on the couch, and then the man’s head suddenly drooped onto Miles’ shoulder, and his arm loosely wrapped around the prosecutor’s waist and pulled him closer.
“Wright?” Miles asked, startled. He got a soft snore in reply. Apparently Miles wasn’t the only one who was exhausted.
His amusement over the irony of the current situation didn’t last, however, as Miles slowly realized that Wright was clinging rather tightly to him. Apparently, when the attorney slept, he picked the most comfortable thing in sight and simply snuggled into it. Unfortunately for Miles, he had been deemed the most comfortable-looking object present, and now he was unable to move without disturbing the other man.
This was bad. As Wright continued to sleep, Miles could feel his own exhaustion creeping back, summoned by the other man’s comforting warmth and scent (clean linen, soap, and something vaguely reminiscent of cinnamon). He deeply, truly wanted to sleep, but also didn’t want to rouse the other man in order to do so. Miles would have been fine with staying where he was, too, if his scar hadn’t been throbbing dully, warningly, telling him what would happen if he slept now, let his guard down here.
But exhaustion dulled his wariness, urging him to sleep in a tempting, enchanting voice. Miles heeded to the call, absently promising himself to wake up early so that he could make sure he looked alright for whenever Wright decided to wake.
With that, Miles sighed, tilted his head back, and let sleep enfold him in its warm embrace.
~*
Phoenix woke up when the pillow he was resting on twitched a little. Letting out a soft murmur of protest, the man slowly lifted himself up into a sitting position. He ran his fingers through his sleep-mussed hair as he blinked and looked around.
He was in the living room of a house that was mostly unfamiliar to him. Before Phoenix could begin to panic, however, the events of the day before came back to him. Missing the bus, his apartment flooding, and then, surprisingly, Edgeworth offering his place for the night. So he was at Edgeworth’s house, then, and had fallen asleep while watching those movies the night before.
That settled, Phoenix stretched and yawned, banishing the last traces of sleepiness from his body for good. He turned as he did so, curious to see if he had actually fallen asleep on Edgeworth, as his memory was telling him he had done. What he actually saw lying on the couch made Phoenix pale considerably, and he had to quickly clap a hand over his mouth in order to bite back a yelp.
A large, dark grey timber wolf was curled up on the couch, fast asleep.
The man stared at the wolf, mind racing. How had he managed to fall asleep with his head resting on a wolf? Had he really been so tired that he hadn’t realized that there was a wild animal right next to him? And why was his mind so convinced that he had fallen asleep on top of Edgeworth? If that was true, did that mean that the wolf in question was actually--?
One of the wolf’s ears twitched, and it growled sleepily, shifting as it did so. Slowly, its eyes fluttered open, and Phoenix saw that they were also grey, though a shade lighter than the animal’s fur. After a moment of blinking sleepily, the wolf lifted its head and yawned, revealing two rows of white, sharp teeth. Once its mouth was closed again, the wolf turned its head, lazily surveying the room, obviously still half-asleep. When it caught sight of the shocked-looking Phoenix, however, it yelped in a way not unlike the yelp Phoenix himself had tried to suppress. Suddenly the wolf was gone, replaced with a slightly rumpled and very panicked Edgeworth.
The two men stared at each other, the room silent, the tension thick enough to be cut with a knife. Edgeworth caved first under the pressure, abruptly getting to his feet and muttering, “I have to go now.”
Under any other circumstance, Phoenix would have been amused by Edgeworth’s attempt to escape his own house. Now, however, he was too shocked to notice, and all he could get to process at that moment was that he needed answers as soon as he could get them. So he stood as well, quickly following the retreating prosecutor. “Edgeworth, wait!”
He caught up with Edgeworth in the hallway leading to the front door. Phoenix grasped the prosecutor’s arm, forcing the man to stop. “Edgeworth, I just--”
“It was nothing.” Though his voice was mostly level, Edgeworth refused to look at the attorney. “It was simply a hallucination. You…you were still dreaming. It was a trick of the light.”
Phoenix couldn’t help but shake his head at Edgeworth’s desperate attempts to reason away what had just happened. “I don’t know which contradiction to respond to first,” the attorney murmured, “the fact that you just gave me three explanations for the same phenomenon, or the fact that if you had let me finish, you would’ve found out that I was only asking you where you were going.”
Edgeworth flinched, though he still refused to turn around. “Wright, please just let this be,” he whispered, desperate.
“I was going to let it go, actually, and wait for you to calm down a bit. However,” Phoenix smiled a little despite the tense circumstances, “you brought it up again. So why don’t we just sit down and talk about what just happened, hm?”
“I already told you, it was--”
“And I just told you that I didn’t believe a word of it.” The attorney huffed, frustrated. “Honestly, Edgeworth, you’re one of the worst liars outside of court.”
The prosecutor suddenly tensed, his hand inching up to rub at his scar. “And if I decide not to talk about this any further?” he asked harshly.
Phoenix shrugged. “You know how determined I can be, Edgeworth. Once I’m curious about something, I won’t stop until I’ve found the answers I want. I think I’ll warn you now that this situation counts as something I’m very curious about.”
Edgeworth apparently knew the truth behind those words. He should have, anyway; he had seen Phoenix run a subject into the ground over and over again in court. Finally, after another moment of tense silence, Edgeworth’s shoulders slumped. “Are you sure we need to talk about this now?” he whispered, defeated.
“I think it’s best to get this out of the way as soon as possible,” Phoenix answered softly.
Finally, ever so slowly, Edgeworth turned to face the attorney. Phoenix studied those stone grey eyes, and caught sight of fear but also resignation. He took that as a step in the right direction.
“Alright, then,” Edgeworth murmured. “You’ll get your answers now, Wright, whether you regret it afterwards or not.”
~*~*~*~*~*
- Dammit, I really need to stop posting at 2 in the morning. I can never spell anything after the midnight mark.
- Once again, if you see any problems, please let me know! I like perfection in my work. :3
- Don't get used to the frequent updating. School starts up again for me starting Monday, and my workload will get much heavier. I'll be lucky to even see my computer, let alone write anything.