A Tattered Butterfly - Chapters V ~ VI
It is my pleasure to present to you chapters V & VI of A Tattered Butterfly.
I hope that you enjoy it greatly. More is on the way soon!
Chapters I~III
Chapter IV
Chapter V
~Phoenix Wright~
I wasn’t really sure what to call myself.
The more time passed, the more I forgot. Everything about myself was beginning to fade, as a new identity took its place. I had been given a new name, and a new place in the world.
My first master had sold me, as had my second, and now I belonged to someone else. To each of them, I performed the same services. From each of them, I received the same treatment.
I had been raped more times than I could remember, but that was what I was for. I was a toy to be played with, in any way my master desired.
I had long since learned that good behaviour could earn me small rewards, like a food treat, or some time in the fenced-in yard. I always did exactly what I was told, to avoid the whip and get these rewards.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I vaguely remembered being a lawyer. I could sort of think of cases and things, none of which had any bearing anymore, not to a pitiful slave like me. After all, the past didn’t matter. I was never going to be able to return to that life.
I lived to serve my master now.
~Miles Edgeworth~
I was beginning to develop a buzz, and distantly knew that I was drinking too much again. Just a few more glasses, and I would be completely hammered, incapable even of walking a straight line. Most likely, I would spend the evening hunched over the toilet and the morning popping headache pills.
This was a fairly accurate description of my weekends.
Without a care as to the negative side effects I knew I was heading towards, I tilted my head back and began to rapidly gulp down the foul-tasting liquid, downing it in a matter of seconds. Beginning to grow dizzy and lose my senses, I poured myself another serving, barely succeeding in aiming the bottle for the mouth of the glass.
I lifted the glass quickly and began to drink clumsily, spilling some of its contents on my shirt. Despite how much the shirt had cost, I just didn’t care. Nothing mattered to me anymore.
One year, five months, eight days, three hours.
Somehow, even in my compromised state I could remember exactly how long it had been. I could remember down to the minute that I last saw his beautiful smile. It was a number I constantly, obsessively tracked.
I could even remember the last things he said.
“I’ll see ya later, okay? I’m working on a case right now, and I just made a really big breakthrough. I love you, honey…”
Then he’d flashed that big, pure smile and stepped out the door for the last time. And I hadn’t been there to protect him.
Since that day, I had lived as an empty shell. My once-extinguished hatred of crime had returned tenfold, and now I simply buried myself perpetually in my work, drowning every free moment in alcohol to keep myself from being overcome by the pain and emptiness I had known so well since Phoenix’s disappearance.
And now the case had been closed. It had been beyond my control… We were spending too much and getting nowhere, and lack of evidence and leads had destroyed the case. It had been pulled out from under me. I couldn’t save him… I couldn’t even try anymore…
It was true that we had only been a “couple” for a few weeks before it had happened. But it was true, too, that we had known each other long before then, and that it wasn’t until he was gone that I truly realized that he had been the only light in my life, the one person that I could ever really love.
He was the one whose beautiful smile could melt me, even when I tried to deny it. He was the one who loved me unconditionally, even when I tried so hard to push him away. He was the one who made it his life’s goal to save me from self-destruction, who gave up his own dreams of being an artist and became a defense attorney just so that he could see me again after years of separation.
He was the one who wrote me letters every week since childhood, even when I never wrote back. I still had every one of them, and I read them, again and again, every single night, like a bedtime story I could never tire of.
As horrible as I would feel about it come morning, tonight, I was too drunk to carry on this ritual. I was so plastered, I could not even make out the shape of my hands.
I pushed myself off of the chair and onto my feet, making a wobbly, feeble attempt to stand. Almost as soon as I took my hand off of the counter next to me, my legs gave way and I collapsed in a heap on the ground, too drunk to get back up.
The sound was distant and fuzzy, but I thought I heard someone large coming towards me, shoes thudding against the slate floor of my kitchen. The intruder said something to me, ending his sentence with “Cal” or “gal” or something like that, but I could barely make out the low droning of his voice.
My eyelids were heavy and slowly drew to a close even without my conscious decision, bringing me to a dreamless sleep where the dark memories and horrifying images could never reach me. It was a place all to myself, where I could hide away and just sleep in total blackness, out of reach of the pain of my conscious life and even of my dreams.
~Dick Gumshoe~
I carefully scooped Mr. Edgeworth up off the ground, lifting his unconscious body into my arms. With a heavy sigh, I turned and carried him up the stairs to his bedroom.
He had been like this for almost a year now. The great Prosecutor Edgeworth I had once known was gone, replaced by an empty shadow who couldn’t care less about anything; his cases, the future…even his own life.
By now I had gotten used to his year-old drinking habit, and came by his lofty mansion whenever he had the day off to check up on him and take care of him when he passed out or started throwing up.
It hurt me deep inside to see the man I looked up to acting this way. But in a way, I guess I understood. He’d been in love with Mr. Wright; that was plain to see long before he finally admitted his feelings and got together with him. Mr. Wright was his whole world, and when he had been taken away, well… He’d really just fallen apart.
I wasn’t gonna just give up on him, though. Mr. Edgeworth really needed somebody to just be there are take care of him, and as long as nobody else was willing to do it, the job was left up to me. It was a thankless job, but in my eyes Mr. Edgeworth was worth it.
The only drawback was how much time it took away from being with Maggey… Other than that, the thankless job was its own reward.
Once I reached Mr. Edgeworth’s bedroom, turned the light on with my elbow, then went over and carefully laid the prosecutor out on his bed. I unfastened his cravat and laid it on the nightstand by the bed, then removed his black vest and folded it, placing it in the dirty clothes hamper. Then I covered him up to his shoulders with the blanket and left, turning the light off behind me.
I would spend the night in an uncomfortable chair in the prosecutor’s hallway outside his door, just like so many nights before. But, I reminded myself, the thankless job was its own reward, and Mr. Edgeworth desperately needed someone to take care of him.
As I closed my eyes, I tried to imagine his face when he had been with Mr. Wright. The two had been so happy, always smiling and laughing when they were together. It had been so great, seeing Mr. Edgeworth cheer up and even start smiling at work. He had been so happy, he’d even given me a raise.
I really missed seeing him happy. I really missed seeing him strong and capable and majestic like he always was. And the truth was, I really missed Phoenix Wright.
Chapter VI
~Miles Edgeworth~
I awoke early the next morning to daggers of painful sunlight, peering in at me as warmly and cheerfully as smirking children. I winced, my eyes clenching against the accursed intrusion that so fiercely irritated the headache that came with my hangover.
Feeling sick to my stomach, I gradually forced myself up and out of bed, rushing over to the window to shut the scarlet curtains and end the vicious assault of light. I knew I had drank too much, just as well as I knew that I was going to end up vomiting soon because I hadn’t the night before.
There came a soft knock at the door.
“You awake, Mister Edgeworth?” Softly called the familiar, deep voice of Detective Gumshoe.
“Yes, Detective,” I answered simply.
“May I come in?” Gumshoe asked.
“Fine,” I agreed.
By now, I supposed, he had learned my pattern of self-destruction. Every time I started drinking, Detective Gumshoe showed up to take care of me. I wondered if I had become predictable in that sense, if my habit had really gotten so bad that he expected me to get drunk beforehand.
I wondered how often I drank… I could barely recall.
Detective Gumshoe entered cautiously, wearing a sad half-smile. It looked as if he were trying to keep his usual cheerfulness about him, but the smile on his mouth died when it reached his dark, desolate eyes, which seemed ready to flood with countless unshed tears.
“Hey, pal,” He greeted quietly, his voice burdened with sadness. “How’re you feeling this mornin’?”
“Like shit,” I answered humorlessly. “Do you happen to know where I…”
“Here,” He said, reaching into his pocket and handing me a bottle of headache pills.
He went out into the hall and retrieved a glass of apparently pre-prepared iced water, which he succeeded in spilling plenty of on his way back to me. I hardly felt like yelling at him for the mess.
I accepted the glass as he offered it to me and took the pills, downing half the remaining water along with them. It would be a few minutes yet before the pills started to work, and until then I would just have to put up with the splitting headache.
Detective Gumshoe continued to watch me with those heartbroken charcoal eyes, waiting like a loyal dog for my next command. I appreciated his undying devotion, but now, somehow… it hurt. Why was he so loyal to a broken man who could not allow himself to move on past the purported death of his lover? Why did he continue to stand by my side in spite of my weakness?
“Detective…” I muttered.
“Yes, sir?” He answered, with not a moment’s hesitation.
“About that case… You know, the recent kidnappings.” I said, “Any updates?”
“Well,” Detective Gumshoe started, looking thoughtful. “It’s funny you should ask that, pal, ‘cuz last night we got a really good lead. We got some new info that should help us to put a fix on the kidnappers, including their motives. If you’d like, we can head down to the precinct now and see what our analysts have come up with.”
“I see…” I said quietly. After a moment, I finished, “Well… Let’s go, then.”
Why not? It would give me something to do, a temporary distraction from the pain. At least if I was working on this case, I wouldn’t be able to think about Phoenix. If I was preoccupied with something else, perhaps I could get a hold of myself and find some semblance of sanity until the night once again returned to haunt my dreams with his ghost.
I just wished the case didn’t have to be about kidnappings… It made me think so much of Phoenix…
I handed the near-empty glass of water to Detective Gumshoe before turning to the dresser to get out some fresh clean clothes. Opening the second drawer, I took out a white dress shirt and a simple vest. I would not be wearing my usual light-red suit today, on account of the fact that while I was drunk, I had managed to spill liquor all over the jacket and my good vest.
“Is there anything else I can get you, pal?” Detective Gumshoe asked.
“No, thank you, Detective,” I answered stoically. “I shall meet you downstairs once I’ve finished getting ready. It should only be a few minutes.”
“Yes, sir.” Detective Gumshoe said, saluting smartly with his free hand.
He turned, then, and left the room, closing the door quietly behind him, and leaving me once again alone. The silence was overwhelming.
~
The case was becoming more and more complicated by the second. What had started out as a simple matter of kidnapping had quickly escalated into something more, something that had become clear once we’d learned that the kidnapping we were investigating was tied to several others, including a dozen or so that had taken place over a year ago.
I didn’t dare to hope, but distantly wished that this might be the lead I’d wished for so fervently in the past.
Now, standing in the forensics department down at the precinct, I was being informed of new evidence and some new revelations in the case. Apparently, they’d found something huge, and the already-complicating plot had thickened.
“We’ve traced the kidnappings back to a suspicious ring that’s been sending large cargo boats in and out of the country illegally,” I was informed, by some nameless pawn within the force. “
“Here’s the kicker,” A second pawn said, “We’re pretty sure they’re selling the victims as slaves of some kind, most likely overseas, but it’s possible that some are being sold right here in California.”
Slaves… Coldly, I smirked at the thought. I’d needed a good, interesting case to take my mind off of things, one that I actually had to put a bit of thought into to win, and this could be just the thing. After all, how often was it that you heard about modern-day slave trade in America, eh?
To me, this was little more than a game of chess, everyone involved the pieces on a board. And here I was, the black king, about to make his next move against the anonymous enemy to salvage nameless pawns that they had captured.
“Have you gotten a fix on their location, or a location at which we could purchase some of the victims they’ve made into slaves?” I inquired.
“We’re working on that, sir,” The first pawn answered. “We’re really close to getting more detailed answers.”
“Good,” I said. “You will inform me immediately when you do, and I will be the one to go and select and purchase the slaves. Understand?”
“Err, yes, sir, but why do you want to do it?” The second asked.
“Because I want something to do,” was my simple answer, before I turned and walked off out the door.
Step out your door, and it feels like rain
That's the sound, that's the sound on your window pane...
Take to the streets, and you can't ignore,
That's the sound, that's the sound you've been waiting for...
[A/N: NOT the end of the story! The song at the end actually continues with the stroy, and we still have a very long way to go from here!]