Archive of Our Own ^beta

It was supposed to be a nice, quiet Friday. The long weekend meant Trucy got to stay home from school, and the offices were closed, so the small family could spend some precious downtime together that lasted more than an evening.

The three were huddled together on the couch, Phoenix's head nestled against Miles's shoulder and Trucy wedged between the two of them. The newest movie in the Steel Samurai franchise was playing, and while Phoenix was utterly lost, his partner and daughter seemed engrossed in the film, so he chose not to bother either with his trivial questions.

A loud noise came not from the television, but from the front hall, causing the trio to lurch in surprise as a unit. It was Pess, who'd been napping until just a moment ago, but was now on high alert, barking frantically. Miles nudged Phoenix off him and stood, adjusting his spectacles as he trudged out of the living room.

Phoenix and Trucy exchanged looks, and wordlessly, Trucy reached for the remote to turn the volume down. Both of them strained to hear Miles attempting to shush the dog.

"Sh, shh, it's alright, Pess, what's wrong--?"

Then the earth itself seemed to lurch.

Trucy yelped as her props strewn about on the table started rattling and bouncing. The bookshelves were bolted down to prevent toppling in case of the stray earthquake, but other, less heavy furniture was not as fortunate. The floor lamp swung to the carpet, and judging from the loud thunk in the entry hall, the coat rack hadn't been able to keep its footing either.

Phoenix swore and jumped to his feet as soon as the initial shock passed through him, and Trucy was right on his heels. The two rushed through the shaking living room, paying no heed to the quake, making a beeline for--

"Miles!"

The man had collapsed to the floor, pinned under the coat stand and being nudged at by a frantic Pess. Phoenix rolled the object off him with a wince.

The tremors were starting to die down, but it was soon replaced by Trucy's jostling of the fallen prosecutor. "Papa! Papa, wake up!"

"Hey, hey, be gentle, sweetheart," Phoenix managed, even though he was sorely tempted to do the same thing. "Oh, this isn't good..."

He felt along Miles's body for injuries. He was breathing fine, and nothing felt broken, but on the back of his head, hidden by his hair, Phoenix could feel an uncomfortable lump swelling up. He sucked on his teeth. As though Miles wasn't going to feel terrible enough upon waking up, now he had a possible concussion to contend with.

"Is... is he gonna be okay?" Trucy choked out. Phoenix looked to her, and his heart only ached more - she looked absolutely terrified, face ashen and tears welling in her eyes.

He gave her a smile, though he knew how nervous he must have looked. He made no effort to disguise his own fright; she'd see right through it anyway. "He's gonna be alright. Just a bump on the head. Nothing he hasn't handled before, right?"

Trucy swallowed. "But... the earthquake... he's gonna feel really rotten, isn't he?"

"Ugh, yeah." Phoenix grimaced. "Definitely lots of hugs in order once he wakes up."

Pess nudged at Miles's head with a low, guilty whine, and began licking his cheek. He groaned, and raised one hand to try and push away the dog.

"Papa!" Trucy's face lit up again, and relief washed over Phoenix that made him sag into a sitting position from his kneeling one. "Are you alright?"

"Nghooooooh..."

The bridge of Miles's glasses had snapped when he hit the floor, and they fell off him as he slowly raised his head. He let out another groan as he pushed himself into a sitting position. Phoenix stood again to help him up--

--and his hand was sharply smacked away. Phoenix flinched. Oh, he was in a very bad mood. While they'd tried to work on Miles's guilt regarding his trauma, some days he couldn't quite shake the self blame, and it manifested in frustration. Being sore from getting cracked on the head probably wasn't helping matters, either.

"Uh, Miles?" he tried. "Are you okay?"

Miles looked up at him and squinted. It wasn't like his normal "I can't see two inches in front of my face without my spectacles" squint, though. It was a glare that brought to mind Phoenix's early days in court, full of rage and... confusion.

"Phoenix Wright?" he said after a moment, voice clipped and incredulous.

Something about this wasn't adding up. "Uh... the one and only?" Phoenix said, trying a grin.

Miles's brow furrowed further.

"...what the hell are you doing in my house?"

Phoenix could only gape. "Uh," he wheezed.

"Uh oh," Trucy mumbled from beside him.

"And who is--" Miles's glare fixed on Trucy, and Phoenix really had to give his daughter credit, she didn't so much as flinch. "Who are you?"

She didn't answer him. "Daddy, remember the banana story you told me?"

Phoenix blinked. "Uh oh."

"I don't recall inviting either of you in here," Miles snarled, bracing himself against the wall as he stood up. "What-- ngoh--"

He staggered, and Phoenix immediately stepped forward to catch him. For just a moment, he could pretend Miles sinking into his arms was a good thing, but then he was shoved away again, hard.

Phoenix was thrown back a good few feet, and Trucy gasped as he landed square on his back. He groaned in pain, struggling to get his bearings.

Miles seemed taken aback. "I-I," he stammered, eyes wide, "I didn't..."

He'd gotten a lot stronger since he and Phoenix had met. It made sense that he wouldn't know his own strength now. He was now examining himself, looking more and more flustered. Pink streaked his cheeks, and Phoenix could see the sweat start to bead his forehead.

"Miles," he tried again, "don't freak out--"

"Wh-What happened to-- what did you do to me--?!"

He tried to move and nope, his back wasn't having it, that was definitely the distinct throb of a thrown-out back. "Truce," he gasped, "can't move."

Trucy gave him a sympathetic wince, then turned to Miles. "Um, P-- Mr. Edgeworth, how much do you remember?"

Miles didn't seem to hear her. He had trembling hands held over his body, but not quite touching, as though afraid making contact with himself would burn him. His breathing was becoming labored, and the shaking of his frame only increased.

(Oh... oh, Miles, honey, no...) Guilt clamped around Phoenix's heart like a vise. "M-- Edgeworth! Hey!"

That seemed to snap him out of his funk long enough for him to glare daggers at Phoenix. (I definitely didn't miss that look...)

"What. Did you do."

"Uh... that's a loaded question," Phoenix chuckled weakly. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Absolutely not," he snapped, hands curling into fists. "You're not saying anything else unless it's prompted from you."

"Mr. Edgeworth!" Trucy called again. Edgeworth turned towards her.

"And you," he sniffed with disdain, "I don't know who you are, but you both have some nerve--"

Trucy put her hands on her hips and glared up at him. "I'm Trucy Wright," she declared, "and you need to stop being so stuck-up so we can tell you what happened."

Edgeworth seemed taken aback by her level of sass. Then, "Trucy... Wright?" he repeated.

"Yeah! He's my daddy!" She pointed to the still literally floored Phoenix. "So you better be nice to him!"

Edgeworth looked from Trucy to Phoenix. Phoenix could practically see the gears turning in his head.

Eventually, putting two and two together seemed to only leave Edgeworth with three, and he growled in confusion. "How...?"

"Edgeworth, it's 2029."

His confused expression gave way to complete shock, and he actually flinched back, bringing one arm up as though to protect himself. "What?!"

"You hit your head, Edgeworth, I think... I think you forgot a good chunk of stuff, what year is it?"

Edgeworth looked ruffled. There was no other word for it. "It's... it's 2014," he tried to assert, but he sounded unsure. Phoenix could easily hear the unspoken isn't it? that he didn't dare to ask.

(Oh, boy, that's... that's fifteen years worth of...)

Phoenix's teeth gritted. He knew exactly how fifteen years could change a person, for better or for worse.

Edgeworth reached up to the back of his head, feeling around, and flinched when he presumably touched the sizable knot that had formed. "Nghk."

Trucy was still looking pretty displeased. "Do you believe us now, Mr. Edgeworth?"

"Ngooh, this is... preposterous," he muttered darkly, but Phoenix could tell he was faltering. Still, if Edgeworth didn't want to believe it, he wasn't going to believe it.

"When did..." He looked again from Trucy to Phoenix. Then he looked down at himself, and blanched with disgust. "When did," Edgeworth repeated, voice strangled. Then he shook himself. "A... Amnesia is out of the question. I refuse to believe that I would ever let myself go in such a fashion in the future!"

"Hey," Phoenix snapped, metaphorical hackles raising. "Don't talk about yourself like that."

Edgeworth squinted at Phoenix with disdain. "You think you know better than I do about my body, you--"

"Don't insult him," Trucy cut in, still cold and clipped in a way that made Phoenix's heart ache. "You're just gonna regret it later, y'know."

"And what would you know, Miss Wright?"

It was almost imperceptible, but Phoenix saw his daughter waver. "I know about fifteen years' worth of stuff that you don't, Mr. Edgeworth."

Edgeworth regarded them both, one eyebrow twitching slightly in annoyance. Finally, he uttered, "Get up, Wright, I refuse to converse with someone too lazy to stand."

"Ah ha ha... I, uh... you kinda threw my back out, actually..."

Ten awkward minutes later, involving Trucy standing - bouncing - jumping on her father's spine until it popped back into alignment, and Edgeworth nearly tripping over the dog he had no idea he possessed, the three were seated on the living room couch.

Well, Trucy and Phoenix were. Edgeworth didn't seem to be able to decide whether he wanted to sit or stand, pacing the area in front of his armchair.

"There has to be a logical explanation for this."

"I told you, you hit your head and forgot the past fifteen years."

"And I told you that's hogwash, Wright. Really, you think I'd allow you both into my home willingly?"

(Ouch.)

"Clearly, there's something deeper here," Edgeworth mused. "A... a kidnapping attempt, or a hallucination from being slipped something in my tea, or a nightmare..."

His words gave Phoenix an idea. It wasn't one he liked, but it was an idea.

"Edgeworth..." He swallowed - his mouth was suddenly dry - and went for it. "You've had a really bad nightmare, every night, ever since you were nine years old."

His words definitely had the intended effect. Edgeworth snapped around to face him. "What-- how do you--" he spluttered.

"You told me when we were twenty-four, and I was defending you for the murder of Robert Hammond."

All that information at once seemed to send Edgeworth reeling. "I nev-- you're a-- he was--?!"

Trucy squeezed Phoenix's hand tightly. She'd heard the story in bits and pieces over the years, but never all at once.

"You dreamed of the DL-6 incident, your final moments before losing consciousness, and... seeing it every night convinced you that you murdered your own father in that elevator."

Edgeworth fell silent, face ashen, eyes wide as they could go. His legs gave out, and he sank into the armchair at last.

"But," Phoenix continued, "you didn't. I proved it, even when I got you found innocent of Hammond's murder and you tried to indict yourself for Gregory's."

He was shaking now, squeezing his bare arm tightly in a nervous habit that he'd left behind years ago. His eyes were glassy.

"The prosecution for both cases was Manfred von Karma."

He jerked and choked. "N-- wh--"

Phoenix fixed him with as steady a stare as he could manage. "Von Karma was the one that orchestrated everything. He convinced Yanni Yogi to murder Hammond and frame you, and he was counting on you blaming yourself and fearing him enough to accept a guilty verdict."

Trucy was silent. One hand was over her mouth, and the other squeezed Phoenix's as tight as it could.

Edgeworth looked as though he might pass out. He was gripping himself so hard that Phoenix feared he might snap his arm off.

"Why," he managed, voice hoarse. "If you think you can claim this, then surely... you must have fabricated a motive to c-convince me of it..."

(Oh, Miles.)

"Edgeworth, you shot someone, but... it wasn't Gregory. The bullet went through the door and hit von Karma in the shoulder, and after you lost consciousness, the power came on. And... von Karma..."

Edgeworth's knuckles had turned white. His stare was no longer focused in anything in the room. Every breath sounded like a struggle.

"The scream that haunted you was never your father's. It was your mentor's. He took you away and molded you into everything Gregory would have hated... he... he hurt you so much, Miles..."

"Y-You-- you're lying," he choked out. His fingernails dug into his arm, scratching pale lines into the skin. "This isn't real. This is just... some fever dream I've come up with, something to try and absolve myself of guilt when I know with... with absolute certainty that..."

Trucy had let go of Phoenix's hand at some point, and when she got up, he realized why - she was cradling her phone now. "I asked Polly to send me the recording he has of that trial," she said softly. "You can see for yourself."

It took over an hour to review the footage of the second trial for State v. Edgeworth. Edgeworth had fallen into stunned silence, unable to tear his eyes away from the screen, either not realizing or not caring that Trucy and Phoenix had gradually crowded around him and were now sitting on either side of the armchair, leaning into him.

Finally, that wretched cry split the air, tinny from the speakers but still unmistakable, and Edgeworth's own voice cracked. He slumped forward, and the phone slipped from his fingers and bounced against the carpet. He buried his face in his hands, and his shoulders began to wrack with silent sobs.

Automatically, Phoenix pressed a hand against his back, gently rubbing in circles. Trucy clung to his shoulder, resting her chin against him. He flinched at the contact, but seemed unable to pull himself out of his grief long enough to chastise the both of them.

They remained like that for a long while, and Phoenix wasn't sure how much time had passed before Edgeworth finally lifted his head again. His face was blotchy and wet, eyes puffy, hair messy and sticking to his damp cheeks. He turned to Phoenix, and his weary expression spoke volumes.

It occurred to Phoenix, just then, that he had a chance to do this again, the way he'd wanted to the first time the trial concluded.

He wrapped his arms around Edgeworth and squeezed, and Edgeworth let him.

"...now do you believe me?" Phoenix asked softly.

"Just how wrong have I been?" Edgeworth whispered, and his scratchy voice damn near broke Phoenix's heart. "How... how horrid have...?"

It took everything he had not to kiss the top of Edgeworth's head. "Even after twelve years, you're still working on forgiving yourself, Miles. But you're getting there. You're doing so much better."

Trucy didn't seem to hold nearly as many qualms about returning to her usual state of physical contact with her papa. She nuzzled him insistently, making him flinch. "You're still kinda mean, but not in a really bad way."

"I..." He sounded dazed. "...why are you two in my house?"

"Surprisingly enough, Edgeworth," Phoenix chuckled weakly, "you have people that care about you and want to support you."

"Th-That... that doesn't answer why you're in my house!" he protested weakly.

"Can't an old friend and his daughter spend some time with you?" It wasn't technically a lie. "We were watching a movie, and you went to check up on Pess, and then an earthquake hit and you got flattened by a coat rack."

An idle thought crossed Phoenix's mind, that a Miles in a state of body that matched his state of mind may not have survived such a blow. He mentally stamped on it as hard as he could.

Edgeworth hunched his shoulders. "Ngoh..."

"Hey, nothing to be ashamed of. Accidents happen." Phoenix patted him on the back again as he griped.

Trucy was frowning in disappointment at Phoenix. "Daddy, you really should tell him."

(I think he's had enough bombshells dropped on him for the time being!)

But Edgeworth had perked up ever so slightly. "Tell me what, Wright?"

"Uh... I plead the fifth?"

"Wright," he said again, far more dangerously.

Phoenix gave him a sheepish grin. "We... kinda live here too...?"

Edgeworth blinked. He stared at his lap for a few moments. Two and two must have made four this time, because he suddenly seized up, and his face went the color of his precious suit. "N... NGHOOH!?"

Phoenix couldn't help it. He burst out laughing. "Sorry, Miles, you're stuck with us."

Edgeworth spluttered and flushed impossibly darker as Trucy joined in on the laughter. "B-But I'm not-- you're--"

"Save it, Edgeworth, I've heard from your own mouth how much you love me." Phoenix raised his eyebrows, reveling in Edgeworth's adorably flustered expression before he shut his eyes and folded his arms.

"You may have convinced me of my innocence regarding my father's death, but I must draw the line somewhere! You two must be taking advantage of my amnesia to mock me!"

"Is it so hard to believe you have a partner and a daughter that love you?"

Phoenix regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth, because the way that Edgeworth sagged told him that yes, it was.

"W-Well," he stammered, scrambling to recover, "because we-- we do. We love you very much, Miles."

Edgeworth shivered. "I need to lie down."

Trucy smiled, but Phoenix could tell she was heartbroken. "Sure!" she said, in that practiced stage voice. "It's been a lot for you already, I bet you're real tired, Mr. Edgeworth!" Her tone wavered ever so slightly on the first syllable of his name, and Phoenix gave her a look of sympathy.

"I am." The sentence was clipped and clinical. Edgeworth refused to meet either of their eyes, and he got up to his feet so suddenly it nearly knocked them both off the chair as well.

Without so much as a goodbye, he marched off towards the bedroom, leaving his dazed family in his wake. Phoenix debated calling after him, but before he could make up his mind about it, there was the distinct slam of the master bedroom door.

Phoenix deflated. "This sucks, Truce."

"Yeah," she agreed. "...he's gonna get better, right?"

"I... really hope so."

It was a nagging feeling of worry that made Phoenix check the bedroom an hour later. He and Trucy had sat there in the living room until he couldn't take it anymore, and now here he was, breaching the privacy of his partner.

(He's in a delicate state right now,) Phoenix tried to tell himself even as he gently twisted the knob to see if Edgeworth had remembered to lock the door. (He needs somebody by his side.)

Either Edgeworth had forgotten in his haste, or he trusted Phoenix and Trucy more than he was letting on, because the doorknob turned all the way and the door cracked open ever so slightly when he pushed. He was slow and careful with opening it, ears strained to catch any noise from within.

There was a faint, strangled gasp that made Phoenix's stomach lurch. He knew that sound, and logically, it made sense, given Phoenix had just brought those memories up, but it didn't stop him from feeling absolutely horrid.

He crept into the bedroom as the slumbering Miles shivered and clutched the sheets. Phoenix could see the cold sweat that slicked his skin now, sticking him to the bedclothes and vice versa.

"Edgeworth," he called softly, but he knew voice alone would not break the prosecutor free of the hell of his own mind's creation. Phoenix hesitated, and pressed one knee into the bed, feeling the mattress dip underneath him.

"Edgeworth," he repeated, more insistent, and snaked one hand over to grab his shoulder. Edgeworth whimpered and flinched like a kicked puppy, but he didn't open his eyes.

Finally, Phoenix braced both hands on his broad shoulders, and shook with all his might. "Miles!"

Edgeworth's gasp abruptly tapered off into a choke, and he sat up sharply. "Wha--"

His forehead clunked directly against Phoenix's, sending him reeling. He leaned backwards as tears almost immediately stung his eyes. "Ow!" he whined. "Bumping your head again isn't gonna bring back your memories, y'know!"

Edgeworth clutched his own forehead, but he was fixing Phoenix with a downright murderous glare. "I thought I made it clear I wish to be left alone for the time being, Wright."

Phoenix tenderly rubbed at the sore spot and sighed. "You just... you were having that dream again, weren't you."

Edgeworth immediately grabbed his arm and tore his gaze away from Phoenix. "I've had it every night for years. I don't see why tonight should be any different."

Phoenix let out a slow breath of air. "I... listen, it... it gets better. The nightmares don't stop, not altogether, but... it's less often. A lot less."

Edgeworth was silent. His eyes shifted to hesitantly peek at him, but his head remained turned away from his partner.

"A... a lot of things get a lot better," Phoenix continued. "You, you get a dog--"

"I could see that."

"--you get back in touch with Franziska--"

That made Edgeworth stiffen slightly in surprise.

"--you make a bunch of new friends--"

He scoffed. "Why in the world would anyone be..."

"Willing to try to get close to you?" Phoenix put one hand over the fingers still strangling Edgeworth's left arm, and the gesture made his eyes go wide and his cheeks color. "Because they... we can see the good in you, Edgeworth. We forgive you, and we want to see you be better."

Edgeworth was looking at him in something approaching awe. Phoenix smiled, and squeezed his hand gently.

"It gets better, Miles," he restated, doing his best to pour every ounce of love and hope he had into the words.

Edgeworth must have felt something, because his face flushed further, and a shiver feathered its way up his spine. His eyes were dark now, no longer squinting quite so hard to try and take in Phoenix.

"Wright... why...?"

"Why what?" His voice had lowered itself without him realizing, resulting in a particularly tender-sounding baritone. Frankly, it was kinda sappy.

Edgeworth took a breath.

Then his stomach growled.

Phoenix's first instinct was to laugh at the absurdity of the interruption, but then he caught the expression on Edgeworth's face, and abruptly recalled the state he was in at the moment. "Edgeworth."

"What."

"I know what you're thinking. You're not getting out of a meal. I'm not gonna let you fall into old habits."

Edgeworth blanched. He looked frightened. Disgusted. "I... I refuse, Wright. I'm not hungry."

Another loud complaint from his midsection offered a fantastic contradiction. Phoenix lifted his eyebrows. "It doesn't have to be much. But you need to eat."

"B-But," he stammered, and then the words faltered entirely as he stared down at himself. The only word Phoenix could think of to describe his expression was shame.

"There's nothing wrong with the way you look, Edgeworth," he insisted, squeezing the hand his partner still had clamped around himself. "It's the natural state of your body. Doesn't it feel so much better than hurting all the time?"

"Somewhere, I... I must've lost my grip--"

"Hey. No. You didn't lose anything but a bunch of bad habits von Karma planted in your brain." Phoenix pulled at his hand. "It doesn't have to be much, Edgeworth, but I am not letting you starve yourself."

Edgeworth shuddered and shut his eyes. "You are remarkably stubborn, Wright."

"I've been told it's a good thing." Phoenix tugged again, insistent, gentle. "Come on. Let's get some food in you."

"I don't want to."

"I know. But you have to. I'm not taking no for an answer here."

Edgeworth grumbled. So did his stomach. He let himself be pulled to his feet and out of the bedroom. His sleep-tousled hair would have looked endearing in the light, if not for the bloodshot eyes and grimy cheeks that accompanied it.

He knew from experience that Edgeworth was not going to tolerate at least half of what the kitchen had to offer. Phoenix didn't like it, but the priority was making sure he ate anything at all, not getting a full meal.

(No sugar, no carbs,) he reminded himself as he searched the cabinets. (Dairy's shaky at best. Nothing with too much salt either.)

Finally, he decided on a jar of trail mix. He brought it down and offered it to Edgeworth to examine. The prosecutor regarded it with suspicion, and Phoenix's heart lurched uncomfortably as he turned the package to examine the nutritional information.

Eventually, he must've deemed it acceptable. He handed the jar back to Phoenix. "One serving and no more," he said, folding his arms like a petulant child.

Phoenix sighed and opened a drawer to fish out the measuring cups. It was a start.

The rattle of food striking a plastic cup attracted both Trucy and Pess. Trucy still seemed hesitant, but the dog made a beeline for Edgeworth and nuzzled his leg.

Edgeworth grunted, looking taken aback. Eventually, he hesitantly reached down and gave Pess a gentle pat on the head. "Er... good dog."

Pess refused to move, and Edgeworth seemed completely unsure what to do. He was still in his awkward, half-bent position with his hand between Pess's ears as Phoenix brought over the filled quarter-cup of trail mix. A thankful expression flitted across his face, as though glad to have an excuse to sit back up, and he began picking at the mixed nuts and dried raisins.

Trucy took in the whole scene, and gave Phoenix a look. Phoenix returned it helplessly.

The defense attorney ran a hand through his hair. "We... should probably get you to the doctor," he sighed. "Dunno why I didn't think of it earlier. Amnesia isn't something that's gonna just... go away, y'know? You probably have a concussion-- oh, geez, I should not have let you sleep."

Edgeworth was unperturbed. "I feel fine. But I agree a checkup is most likely in order." He hesitantly placed a cashew into his mouth and slowly chewed.

"Maybe we can jog his memory in other ways?" Trucy offered. "If telling him about stuff didn't work, maybe we gotta show him stuff from his past he'd remember! Like the taste of a particularly nice meal--"

Phoenix winced. "I think that particular one's off the table, Truce."

"--the smell of fresh rain during a walk in People Park-- oh! Maybe you can recreate that one time Aunt Maya and Uncle Larry knocked you into the lake!"

Edgeworth blanched. "Beg pardon?"

"Or maybe revisiting an old case that isn't totally traumatizing. Remember that time in Greece, when we met Athena? Hey, she's a psychologist, maybe she can help!"

Trucy chattered on, and Phoenix watched her closely. Though she acted perfectly perky, he could detect the note of panic beneath her suggestions. She'd probably been mulling this over, trying to come up with solutions...

Phoenix reached over to ruffle her hair. "Alright, Truce. Those are some pretty good ideas, ones we can try out after we talk to the doctor."

Trucy puffed out her cheeks. "But it's a long weekend! What if the doctor's office is closed? This is stuff we can do right now to help P-- Mr. Edgeworth!"

"I'm inclined to agree with Miss Wright," Edgeworth said, starting to stand up.

"Sit down and finish your food."

"Ngh."

Phoenix knew that Trucy just wanted to be helpful. He was the same way - he could never stand idly by in a crisis, he needed to make himself useful somehow. "Alright, after Edgeworth finishes eating," Phoenix said, with a pointed glance at him that was met with a grumble, "he can shower and get changed, and we can go out for a walk.

Trucy looked relieved, but Edgeworth fidgeted. "I... do I really have to be seen in public like this?" he muttered, sinking into himself ever so slightly.

Phoenix bit back a little groan. "Well, maybe there's stuff around the house we can try first. Trucy can put on a magic show."

That made Edgeworth lift an eyebrow, and Trucy hopped in place. "Oh! That means you get to see my tricks for the very first time again, Mr. Edgeworth!"

This whole mess really was a series of second firsts, one after another. "That's the spirit," Phoenix encouraged. "And there's all sorts of photos and knickknacks we've picked up that might be able to spark something."

"Right then, I'll go shower--"

"Eat your food."

Edgeworth gave Phoenix an annoyed glance as the other man followed him to the bathroom. "Is there something you need?"

"Edgeworth, I love you, but I really do not trust you not to purge right now."

Edgeworth went scarlet. The double-pronged strike had the effect of rendering him entirely speechless, and apparently incapable of movement, so Phoenix gestured to the door to remind him. He gave a start and quickly shut himself in, muttering all the while.

Phoenix leaned against the door. He hated not being able to trust his own partner. It was Miles, sure, but at the same time, it wasn't. This was a Miles before he'd learned all those valuable lessons, like the meaning of being a prosecutor, and the importance of the truth, and the ability to love himself. Twelve years of hard work had gone down the drain in an instant.

(What if his memories don't come back? What if he has to start all over?)

Then Phoenix would be there for him every step of the way. Just because he didn't trust Edgeworth, it didn't mean he didn't believe in him.

There was a sharp intake of breath from somewhere inside the bathroom. Phoenix startled, and pressed his ear to the door.

"Edgeworth? You okay?"

Silence.

"I'm opening the door," Phoenix said, fearing the worst. Had the state of his body overwhelmed him? Had he hit himself on something on accident? On purpose?

When he wrenched the door open, though, Edgeworth was standing completely untouched in the middle of the room. He jerked and brought up his removed shirt to try and cover himself. "Wr-Wright," he stuttered, looking like a deer in the headlights.

"Is something wrong? Are you hurt?"

"I... I'm alright," he responded, voice slow and hesitant. He lowered the shirt ever so slightly, giving Phoenix a view of the old whip scars that criss-crossed his chest. He resisted the urge to run his fingers across the raised skin.

"Are you sure?" Phoenix insisted, brows raised. He took a single step closer, but stopped when he saw the way Edgeworth tensed.

"It's... it's just..." Hesitantly, he lowered the fabric a little further. "I wasn't expecting..."

(Oh.)

Phoenix's eyes lingered on the anchor-like scars for a moment, then he turned his gaze back to Edgeworth's face. His eyes looked glassy, and Phoenix saw the way his shoulders trembled.

"You were twenty-five," he said after a long moment. "It was while you were abroad, trying to find yourself."

Edgeworth choked on a surprised chuckle, and it was music to Phoenix's ears. "Find myself? Are you telling me I quit my job to go soul searching?"

"That's one way of putting it." Phoenix decided to leave out the note. "Actually, I'm glad this came up, I totally would've forgotten to remind you to take your T..."

"I-I'm on--?" There was a look of quiet wonder on Edgeworth's face that Phoenix was determined to burn into his memory for the rest of time. His shoulders shook harder, and he bent forward, placing one hand over his eyes as the shirt slipped from his fingertips.

It began as a quiet wheeze in his throat, then a deep rumble in his chest, and finally Edgeworth burst into raucous laughter. His legs shook, and he leaned heavily against the sink, unable to support himself. Phoenix could see tears slipping down his cheeks, and for the second time, he was unable to resist the urge to pull Edgeworth into a hug.

This time was better. After a moment's hesitation, Edgeworth's arms came up under his, fingers curling into the back of his T-shirt. His whole body felt warm and soft, and he buried his damp face in Phoenix's shoulder, muffling his voice.

"I told you, Miles. It gets better."

"Phoenix," Edgeworth breathed, and Phoenix swore he could feel his heart burst. His name had never sounded so good before.

But then the body in his arms stiffened, and thus, so did his.

"Miles? You... you okay?"

He was silent for a few moments, enough to make Phoenix try to pull away to check on him. To his surprise, though, Edgeworth's grip on him only tightened.

"Phoenix," he repeated, slowly, as though he were tasting the word.

"That's... my name."

"Phoenix?"

The question made him blink. Edgeworth finally slackened his grip and pulled away a short distance. His eyes were as wide as possible, pupils so huge they all but eclipsed his irises.

"Miles?" Phoenix tried.

"Phoenix," he repeated again, and then his face twisted into an absolutely stricken expression. "I'm so sorry."

"Huh?" Phoenix squeaked out. That... definitely wasn't very Edgeworth-like. "I-- Miles? Is that you?"

Miles let go of him entirely. "Oh, no, where's Trucy, I've been positively rotten, she must feel terrible--"

"M-Miles!" Phoenix stammered, trying to grab hold of him as he was gently shouldered aside. "Hey, wait, you remember?!"

"Of course I do, how could I forget?" He looked absolutely wretched now, laden with guilt and horror. "You and Trucy-- oh, dear, I--"

"Hey, heyheyhey, breathe." Phoenix latched onto his hand and squeezed it between his own two. "Just breathe. You didn't mean it."

"But I did, Phoenix, that's the whole issue--"

"It wasn't you."

"It was!"

The noise had once again summoned their daughter, who peeked around the door. "Daddy? P-- Mr. Edgeworth?"

Miles made an expression that looked as though he'd just been stabbed in the chest. In an instant, he was at the door, scooping Trucy into his arms. "Oh, my dear Trucy, I'm very sorry."

"Wh-- Papa?" Her voice shifted from concern to undisguised glee. "You're okay!"

"I've been terribly rude to you both, neither of you deserved that--"

"It wasn't anything you had control over, Miles," Phoenix insisted, placing a hand on his shoulder. "You've changed a lot in fifteen years."

Miles just clutched Trucy tighter. "I feel terrible."

"You were pretty bad," Trucy stated bluntly.

"Trucy--!?"

"But that's the person you were! This is the person you are! You feel bad about doing wrong, and you wanna make it better! Isn't that way better than the way you were before?"

Miles was silent for a few moments. Then he let out a sigh. "Phoenix, who in the world graced us with such a perceptive little lady?"

Phoenix just laughed and kissed his cheek. "Glad to have you back, sweetheart."

Miles huffed, and then did it again when Trucy kissed his other cheek. "You two simply refuse to allow me to wallow in self-pity."

"Nope. Not allowed. Sorry."

"I'm not sorry."

"You know what, Truce, you're right not to be."

Miles wheezed out a laugh at that, and adjusted his grip on Trucy. "Probably for the best."

"You feel up to eating a little more?" Phoenix prompted, nudging him.

His gentle smile quickly dipped into a nauseated grimace. "That was... a particularly intense relapse. I'm not sure if I can stomach anything else with those memories brought so abruptly to the surface..."

Stuff wasn't gonna fix itself just like that. All the guilt Miles had grappled with over the past twelve years had been torn open like an old scar, and it would take a while to recover from such an incident.

"...but... I can try," Miles relented, brows furrowing in determination.

Phoenix breathed a sigh of relief. Even if the pain was fresh, Miles had his coping mechanisms in place again. He had the distance of time, and the support of his loved ones.

Even if it took a lifetime, it would get better.