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Christmas, 2002
Sitting cross legged in his desk chair, Phoenix crumpled his sixth draft and tossed it into the trash can. Further annoyed that it missed, he slouched over the table, even though his extensive collection of gel pens dug into his cheek.
He knew that he should be sleeping-- it was Christmas Eve, after all-- but he felt so restless.
Though it had been a year since Phoenix had last seen his best friend, he still hoped for a chance of reunion, and continued to write letters. Sure, he still had Larry, and had made some new friends in his fifth grade class, but nothing felt the same without Miles.
At the beginning of the night, Phoenix had set out to write Miles a Christmas card, but his endeavors so far were proving unsuccessful. He had tried everything from doodling little cartoons, talking about the latest Signal Samurai episodes, and updating his friend on life in Los Angeles. But nothing felt right, leaving Phoenix alone and frustrated.
He still had his Signal Blue keychain; Phoenix figured Larry had probably lost his matching Signal Yellow, but he secretly hoped Miles still had his Signal Red. Phoenix went to the secret box he hid under his dresser and retrieved the keychain. He didn’t know why, but he felt somewhat embarrassed that he still treasured his Signal Blue. There was a sinking feeling in his stomach that if others knew about his secret, he’d be ridiculed, but he didn’t know why. Sometimes he felt different than the other students, like he was an outsider. But Miles was different; Phoenix knew that him and Miles were one in the same. And when he sat in his room and help his beloved Signal Blue, Phoenix didn’t feel so alone anymore.
His thoughts drifted back to one evening the year prior when the three played Signal Samurai together. Phoenix couldn’t remember much of that specific game (they played it so often), but he remembers walking home as the sun began to sink low in the horizon and the darkness called them home. He remembers Miles reaching for his hand as they traversed the crosswalk, filled with the heaving evening traffic of Los Angeles. There’s an image of Larry making a face, but Phoenix can’t remember if it’s his memory or just his imagination. But he’s certain that he remembers that Miles didn’t let go, and nor did Phoenix, and they held hands all the way home.
The memory confused Phoenix; the nostalgia saddened him, as there hadn’t been word from Miles in a year. But he felt warm remembering Miles’s hand in his, which confused him more. Why should that make him so happy? Why did his cheeks feel warm?
Phoenix blamed his feelings on what his parents liked to call “Christmas magic,” though even he knew that was a flimsy excuse. He decided to believe in anyways, if only so he could push the thoughts away from his already troubled mind. He returned the Signal Blue keychain to its secret location and glanced at his desk. It was terribly messy from his attempts at a Christmas card-- pens and markers were scattered around and paper covered the table like snow. Though he’d truly hoped to send Miles a card, he knew that for now, any more efforts would be futile. Besides, his trash can was already full of crumpled paper from his previous attempts.
Crawling into bed, he pulled the covers tight around him and stared at the ceiling. He thought of tomorrow’s excitements: his mom’s special Christmas pancakes, the gifts, and the special way the tree lights seem to glow on Christmas morning.
Though he believed he’d never fall asleep, as all excited ten year olds do, he eventually succumbed in the late hours of the night. That night, he would dream of Miles, images of Signal Samurai and childhood glee filling his sleeping brain. Though he’d forget the dreams during an exciting morning of family, food, and gifts, and glee, the feeling of warmth and confusion would remain for years to come.
Christmas, 2006
The clicking of knives against forks as the three cut into their portions of Christmas duck was the only sound that filled the hollow air of the Von Karma mansion. A perfectly perfunctory Christmas tree, though devoid of any gifts, stood in the adjacent sitting room. Miles almost felt that his mentor might forgo the holiday entirely if it wasn’t for Franziska’s impassioned drive to celebrate the perfect Christmas.
The maids tiptoed silently between the kitchen and the dining room and around the table, refilling glasses, removing used dishes, and bringing the next course of the elegant, yet dreadfully lonely, von Karma Christmas dinner.
---
Shortly after von Karma dismissed the both his proteges, he called Miles into his study. He entered timidly; by now he had learned total submission.
“Edgeworth,” his mentor said, the word sounding like poison from his mouth, “your Christmas gift.”
An unwrapped volume of Contrasts Between American and German Criminal Law and their Effects on their Respective Legal Systems, Volume I laid on his mentor’s desk. Miles knew there was nothing more. No words of heartfelt holiday wishes, just oppressive silence.
“Thank you, sir,” he replied with a slight bow, exactly as he had been taught. He quietly retrieved his singular present while his mentor pointedly ignored him.
---
Alone in his room, surrounded by the pervasive cold air (the large fireplaces scattered throughout the von Karma manor were no match for winter’s drafts), Miles watched the snow fall outside. Though he longed for Los Angeles, for home, he was rather fond of Germany’s snow. The heavy, soft, white flakes blanketed Miles in a comforting silence, unlike the oppressive quiet of his mentor’s manor.
His thoughts drifted back to the Christmases in L.A. They felt lifetimes ago, even though the reality was a mere few years. He remembered twinkling Christmas lights, hot chocolate, his fourth grade holiday party.
He snaps his head to the door when he hears a creak. If his mentor knew he was foolishly awake rather than sleeping, he’d be dead for sure. Instead, he was surprised to see a tiny figure in a silky, pale blue nightdress.
“Franziska, is everything alright?”
She practically scoffed, despite being only seven years old.
“I am fine, though my suspicions led me to believe you were foolishly drowning in melancholic nostalgia. It seems my suspicions were right, after all.”
They stood in silence, before she dropped the act von Karma forced them to perform. Though they pretended to compete, they truly did care for each other, even though they could rarely show it.
“I brought you this,” she whispered.
Inside her hands were two candy canes. She handed her “little brother” one and began to suck on her own. Miles took the candy bewilderedly. He had no idea where she could have managed to find these, but maybe it was better if he didn’t know.
“Franziska, thank you for this,” he said with reverence.
“It’s nothing,” she responded curtly, though both knew that wasn’t true.
They sat together in the late hours of the night with their forbidden candy, a treat of the outside world, and for the first time since his father died, Miles thought it felt like Christmas.
Christmas, 2017
“Can I come in yet?” Phoenix called from the hallway.
“One second, Nick!” came Maya’s response, followed by Pearl’s soft giggles.
Phoenix leaned against his office door, closed his eyes, and heaved a heavy sigh. His “legal assistant” forced him out of his own office for the day, claiming she needed to prepare a special surprise. Suddenly, the door swung wide open, causing Phoenix to stumble in an attempt to regain his balance. He shot Maya an annoyed glare, but if she even recognized it, she blatantly ignored it.
“Ta-da!” Maya and Pearl announced together. The older spirit medium continued, “Welcome to the Wright and Co. Law Offices Christmas party!”
Phoenix, completely stunned, took in the sight of his office. It was barely recognizable, as the girls had practically plastered the place in holiday decorations. Garland and streamers hung from the ceiling, Christmas lights bordered the windows, and somehow Maya had managed to obtain and decorate a Christmas tree while he was out. There were even card tables covered with holiday tablecloths and plates of gingerbread cookies and what seemed like a mini make-your-own burger bar. Upon closer inspection, there was even mistletoe scattered around the office (surely Pearl’s idea). His mouth hung open for a few seconds before he remembered how to form words.
“Maya, what is all this!” he exclaimed.
Said spirit medium had the decency to look slightly chagrined. She leaned down to speak to her cousin. “Pearl, could you get some of the cookies we baked earlier for Nick to try? The ones in the fridge?”
Pearl’s face lit up, speaking animatedly, “I made some of them myself, Mr. Nick!” She then scampered off to the fridge for cookies and milk.
Phoenix opened his mouth to interrogate Maya, but she cut him off.
“Look, Nick, I know you’ve been down lately-- Pearly does too. We wanted to do something for you, to make you feel better… actually, a lot of this was actually Pearly’s idea. So we decorated the office, and we sent out invitations to everyone we could think of,” she paused to glance at the clock, “our guests should be coming soon.”
Phoenix practically doubled over. “What?! But, why--”
Maya cut him off once again.
“Nick,” she started, in a more serious tone. “I know you don’t want to talk about it, but we all know things have been hard for you since… since he’s been gone.” Her face suddenly scrunched, as if she was trying to hold back tears. “We wanted to remind you that you’re not alone. Obviously you have me, and Pearls, but, you have everyone else, too. So I wanted to invite them all here so you’d be reminded.”
“Oh, Maya… you did this all for me?”
She nodded, still holding back tears.
Despite being a lawyer, he felt at a loss for words. So Phoenix took the extra step forward and wrapped his best friend in a tight hug.
“Thank you,” he whispered.
They stood together for a few moments, until a small gasp pulled them from their moment. Phoenix and Maya turned their heads to see Pearl, clutching a plate of cookies, with her face flushed with pink. Both inwardly groaned, and Maya spent the next ten minutes trying to convince Pearl that the two aren’t actually a couple. Phoenix thanked his lucky stars they hadn’t accidentally been standing underneath one of the bunches of mistletoe.
Taking it all in, he stood by Charley (Maya hadn’t forgotten him, and adorned his lean branches with small ornaments and a bright red ribbon around his pot), and waited for his guests to come.
---
Maya was right-- it did help to be around those he loved, especially during such a sensitive time. And not just because of the holidays, but it had also been one year since… that trial.
Gumshoe held a paper plate piled high with cookies and his booming laughter filled the room. Maggey bustled around, making sure to talk to everyone else in the room, and told countless stories of her brushes with bad luck (including an apparent stint with a cat that supposedly fell on her head out of nowhere while walking down the sidewalk). And, of course, there was the endless but almost excruciatingly awkward flirting between the two. Even Pearl picked up on the sparks between them, and Phoenix swore he saw the girl try to push them under the mistletoe.
Of course Larry came, even though Maya claimed she forgot to send him an invitation. Sporting his Santa suit, he did his best to add to this Christmas cheer, even if he couldn’t help mention how his recent ex dumped him.
Lotta Hart made an appearance, shockingly without her camera, for once. Phoenix even thought he saw the “investigative journalist” interviewing Maggey about her crazy mishaps, but he quickly realized that was a conversation he absolutely did not want to be wrapped into.
The Big Berry Circus arrived in full performance regalia, sans their animal performers (Phoenix thanked his lucky stars no one tried to bring a lion to his office). Max flittered around the office, always the star of the room, while Regina followed excitedly, hoping to promote their upcoming show. Meanwhile, Mo continued with his infamous one-liners and luckily, Ben and Trilo seemed to be getting along better.
Will Powers, who seemed almost comically large inside of the cramped walls of the Wright and Co. Law Offices, thankfully arrived without his costume, but did come with an armful of limited edition Steel Samurai merchandise for Maya and Pearl. Even Penny Nickels made it to the party, excitedly talking about the finer points of the new Pink Princess series and trading their ultra-rare Steel Samurai trading cards. Ema Skye quickly joined their discussion; though she wasn’t as well versed in the famous cartoon franchise, she made up for it with ample enthusiasm and a desire to learn all the trivia, especially the logistics of the more violent scenes (all in the name of detective work and forensic science, of course).
Perhaps the biggest surprise of the night was a gift sent from Franziska, a single bottle of surely expensive wine. Though touched (and practically flabbergasted), Phoenix mused how she even acquired it. The terrifying menace of a prosecutor was only eighteen, after all.
As the crowd swirled around, like a flurry of snowflakes in the cool December air, Phoenix stood for a moment and just observed those around him. Everyone inside his office had shaped these past two years somehow, creating him into the person and the lawyer he’s become. And Maya was right, being surrounded by coworkers, witnesses, acquaintances, and most of all, friends, helped him feel better. But he took a moment to glance out the window, away from the party, and the world outside somehow seemed off, like a sepia-polaroid gone wrong. The twinkling lights of the city lacked their usual charm and excitement, the night sky, whose dark blue color usually comforted him, instead felt miserable and lonely. Phoenix instinctively glanced to his side, and when confronted with empty space, he knew why his world felt cracked around the edges.
It was a world without Miles Edgeworth.
Christmas, 2019
The sun has set hours ago and the former Wright and Co. Law Offices is shrouded in darkness, except for the city lights filtering in through the gaps in the curtain and the blaring red numbers from the alarm clock on the coffee table next to the couch. Two dollar-store stockings hung from the now empty bookshelf; Phoenix had sold all of his law books to afford the adoption fees.
The silence hung thickly in the air. They could only see the outlines of each other, and perhaps that was for the better.
The moment, if there ever was one, was broken when Miles shifted to bury his face in his hands. Phoenix moved to rest his hand on his shoulder.
“What are we going to do?” Miles whispered.
Phoenix pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Miles, I don’t think we have a choice.”
Suddenly Miles turned and wrapped his arms around his… friend? Boyfriend? Partner? Everything was so new, and then in the blink of an eye everything changed. The magic props scattered around the office turned apartment and the fact that only one of the men was wearing a suit was a constant reminder.
Phoenix felt, rather than heard, Miles speak. The prosecutor’s face was buried into the crook of Phoenix’s neck.
“I don’t want to go.”
Phoenix let out a heavy sigh. Europe. The words were on his tongue, and he wanted to scream, but he sealed his lips into a fine line and rubbed small circles into the space between Miles’ shoulderblades. Suddenly, Phoenix realized his shoulder felt wet. Gently prying Miles from his vice grip, he whispered “Miles, are you…” before trailing off.
Phoenix almost gasped, struck by the sight of tears, almost glittering in the low light.
“Oh, Miles…”
He gently raises his thumb to wipe the water away from his eyes.
Miles starts to shake.
Phoenix can feel the beginnings of tears start to burn in his own eyes. A sad smile comes across his face. He was about to open his mouth, hoping the right words would come to him, but Miles suddenly spoke.
“Did you know that I’ve loved you since we were nine?”
And Phoenix’s heart broke all over again.
“Miles, I…”
Phoenix swallowed in a futile attempt to quell his tears.
“Miles, I love you. You know I love you. Hell, I’ve been chasing you for fifteen years,” he said with a breathy laugh and rested his hand on Miles’ cheek. Gently bringing their foreheads together, he continued.
“I’ve been waiting for this for years, but now… I think we both know that this can’t work right now.”
Miles squeezed his eyes tight, and his tears brushed against Phoenix’s fingers.
“I have to be here for her,” he said, glancing towards the other room. “And I know you have unfinished business in Europe.” Phoenix pulled back slightly so he could look into the other man’s eyes. “If I’ve waited fifteen years for you, I can wait a few more. I won’t be going anywhere.”
Miles wiped his eyes with the back of his trembling hand.
“Wrigh-- Phoenix. I don’t want to go. How could I abandon you like this? And… and after every time you stayed by my side.”
A wry, melancholy smile graced Phoenix’s lips.
“Miles, Miles, Miles… it’s okay. You should go. I can take care of myself, okay? You know that. And I can take care of her too. You have a real opportunity. You can’t pass something like this up.”
Phoenix brought the other man to his chest.
“And… someday,” he finished, voice cracking, “we’ll find our way back to each other, okay?”
By now Miles was practically weeping, and they clung to each other because neither knew the next time they’d have another opportunity. Time seemed to stop, and Phoenix wished it was true, that time had frozen, so he wouldn’t have to say goodbye.
---
The alarm clocks blares, rudely waking Phoenix from his slumber, though he can’t remember falling asleep. He glances at the time-- 6:30, bright red in the darkness of his office. Enough time to make breakfast before Trucy wakes up before her first Christmas in Los Angeles. But when he realizes the blanket lovingly tucked around him (which he surely didn’t retrieve himself), everything from last night suddenly rushes back to him.
His head spins.
Phoenix stumbles to turn the lights on, hoping he’s quiet enough not to wake his sleeping daughter. Eggs, milk, flour, and sugar cover the counter as he tries to make pancakes. He so desperately wants Trucy to have a good Christmas, after everything she’s been through this year. Ignoring the tears threatening to well in his eyes, he pours the batter into the oily pan.
Though time seems frozen, the pancakes are eventually finished, but as he goes to set the platter down on the dinner table (it’s really just a card table covered in a plastic tablecloth), Phoenix almost drops the entire plate.
On the table laid a crisp notecard in a swirling, telltale cursive.
“Phoenix--
Last night, I stayed with you until you finally fell asleep, and then made my departure for the airport. Leaving you was agonizing, though I trust your conviction that this is for the best. I assure you I will think of you constantly, and I hope to be on my way back to you as soon as possible.
Forever yours, Miles.
Phoenix folded the note into the pocket of his sweatshirt, wiped away his tears, and went to wake Trucy up.
He wasn’t alone; he had beloved Trucy, and soon, he prayed, he’d have Miles.
Christmas, 2027
Pale sunlight gently streamed through the window, summoning Phoenix awake from his slumber. As he returns to the realm of consciousness, he slowly becomes aware of his surroundings: the feel of the sheets, the thick comforter enveloping him in warmth, and the man against his chest. Phoenix pulls him closer, holds him a little tighter, and the other grumbles as he too, awakens.
“Miles,” he says softly. He receives a groan in response. A smile graces Phoenix’s stubbly face.
“You remember what today is, right? We should,” he paused to yawn, “probably get up soon.”
“Just a few more minutes…” Miles mumbles. And Phoenix naturally obliges him, because he loves him.
All is still and quiet, and the two enjoy the moments of early down before they are fully awake. But before either can fully register the sound of their bedroom door opening, a flurry of a girl has jumped onto their bed in true Christmas morning glee.
“Daddy! Papa! You didn’t forget today’s Christmas, right! Come on, let’s make breakfast!”
Grumbling, Phoenix extracted himself from the warmth of his bed and gave his daughter’s cheek a good morning kiss. Miles soon followed.
“Merry Christmas, Truce. Let me guess-- pancakes?”
The Christmas pancakes were a tradition Phoenix continued from his childhood, but Trucy’s enthusiasm usually meant pancakes shaped like Christmas trees, adorned with handfuls of candy, with claims they looked like garland and ornaments (though Phoenix knew it was really just because of her raging sweet tooth). Miles started putting together the batter while Phoenix poured drinks for the three, and Trucy sat at the table, practically vibrating from excitement.
Their Christmas tree stood by the window, covered in ornaments collected throughout the years. There were the small magatamas that Maya and Pearl had excitedly made during their first Christmas at the Wright and Co. Law Offices, Trucy’s playing cards turned snowflakes, and small trinkets given years prior by their friends (Gumshoe seemed to make a new Blue Badger ornament every year). Underneath the tree sat dozens of gifts wrapped in colorful paper and bows, just waiting to be opened at the Wright-Edgeworth Christmas party.
As the pancakes sizzled on the pan, their doorbell seemed to ring every few minutes, as their friends arrived-- as their family arrived. Maya, Pearls, Gumshoe, Maggey, Apollo, Athena, Blackquill, Klavier, Franziska, and even Larry came in quick succession.
People from all walks of life gathered in his home, all shaping Phoenix’s past decade as a lawyer, even through his disbarment. He finally had a family to call his own.
He watched Trucy excitedly greet their guests, and Phoenix felt his heart swell with pride. She was his daughter, and though brought to him through unconventional means, they instantly became family. He owed his life to her; without her joyful presence, and the responsibility he needed to properly take care of her, he’d surely have succumbed to his depression. She was, without a doubt, the missing piece he never knew he needed to complete his life.
A deep chuckle startled him out of his reverie, and he looked across the room to his husband, talking amicably to his sister. Now, Miles was a different story. Miles was the piece he’d always longed for, always knew he needed, and after a long twenty five years, they finally had created a life together.
After years and years of celebration, Phoenix had finally discovered the meaning of the holiday. Christmas was time with his family, with his daughter, and finally, after decades, with Miles.