Work Text:
"Come on, Larry, just-" Phoenix winced. "Just eat it."
Larry balked. "This is your lunch, Phoenix. I can't, I can't just-"
Phoenix shook his head. "You're hungry. I get free food from the school. Don't worry about me."
He pushed the food tray towards Larry, who sat across the lunch table from him.
"Come on, please?" Phoenix asked one more time.
"... If you're sure."
Larry took the tray.
Phoenix's heart soared.
-
Phoenix came from a poor family.
Yes, they have food on the table, a roof over their heads, and anything Phoenix could need.
But sometimes it's obvious when his mom goes straight to the clearance section, frowns, and then drags him out of the store within five minutes.
It's actually dreadfully obvious.
-
"I'm sorry, we can't afford that today," she said to him when he asked for something in the store one day.
Phoenix nodded sadly.
His mom's face looked exhausted, her face paler by the day.
"I promise you we'll come back for it, alright?"
Phoenix nodded, this time with a bit more enthusiasm.
She pulled him away, out of the store, and it's almost forgotten.
-
They never end up returning to the store.
-
After his mom's death, Phoenix ended up in the orphanage, because no one else in the family wanted him.
"Probably because I caused Mom's death," he thinks to himself late one night.
She looked weaker and weaker every time he saw her. Working a few jobs at once took a toll on her, and without the support of a second parent, it was only a matter of time before it all came crashing down.
All Phoenix has at that point is Larry, schoolwork to throw himself into, and a memory of a friend who now lives far, far away.
-
Trucy tilts her head. "Is that all you're eating, Daddy?"
Phoenix chuckles, ruffling her hair. "I ate earlier when I was out with Kristoph. Don't worry about it."
Trucy blinks for a second.
Phoenix hates lying to her, but god, anything to keep her from worrying about him.
Food on the table, food on the table, Trucy needs dinner, food, table, need to be a good dad, I need to be good for Trucy, Trucy's food, food, on, the, table-
"Alright," Trucy smiles softly. "Just make sure you eat, too!"
"Of course, darling, of course," Phoenix whispers.
-
He sneaks his half-eaten bread on her plate when she isn't looking.
He's not a magician, so either she couldn't tell or she just didn't bring it up.
-
He remembers his mom. It's been years since her death, and he's almost forgotten about her. But now in this position, he remembers and understands what she had gone through. She saved food for Phoenix, probably figuring it's more important for him to grow up healthy rather than care for her own health.
-
He drinks more grape juice.
-
Phoenix visits his mom's grave, leaving a bouquet of flowers there.
He stands there for ten minutes and then leaves.
-
Phoenix never asked for anything from his mom, with the exception of that one time.
He felt too guilty.
-
"You keep giving me your lunch," Larry said, frowning.
All Phoenix did was shake his head and laugh. "I ate my bagged lunch in the line. Don't worry about it."
Larry was either really bad at detecting lies or just way too hungry.
-
"Don't worry about it."
-
"Grape juice, again?"
Phoenix lets out a soft sigh. "For the record, it's not alcohol, really. I just like grape juice."
Kristoph doesn't respond to that.
Phoenix wonders if it's because he doesn't care.
-
Phoenix looks in the fridge again.
-
Grape juice, food.
A bite. A drink. A bite, then a drink. Then another drink, then a bite. Refill the glass. A smaller bite. A bigger gulp. Another bite. More juice.
-
"Here's some food." Phoenix pushes the plate towards Trucy, getting up from his own chair.
"Daddy?"
Phoenix smiles at her.
"I'm just going to watch some television."
He knocks out on the couch.
-
"I'm not hungry, Truce. I'll eat later."
His stomach silently grumbles.
He tells it to shut up.
-
Phoenix looks in the fridge again.
-
"You don't look so well, Phoenix," Kristoph says with that polite smile that sends chills down his spine.
"Well, it's probably the poor lighting here. Want to hear more of my piano playing?"
Kristoph makes a grimace. "Please improve your posture."
Phoenix plays a minor second interval.
Kristoph forces a smile. "Wonderful. Maybe one day you'll actually play something worthwhile at this rate."
A tritone plays.
The devil's interval - how fitting.
-
Phoenix takes a nap.
Maybe the pangs will go away if he just rests it off.
He doesn't deserve to eat.
-
The glint of Kristoph's glasses during their dinner makes him want to punch him in the face.
Phoenix barely touches his plate.
He gets it to-go and leaves it as leftovers for Trucy in the fridge.
Maybe they'll (she'll) have enough food until he has another good poker night.
-
When Phoenix gobbled down his dinner as a child, he never noticed his mother looking at him in a melancholy way. Not until later, when he thinks about when he accidentally catches her.
"Mom?" Phoenix tilted his head.
She shook her head. "Just eat, darling."
She looked blissfully happy yet extraordinarily sad.
-
Phoenix throws up.
Not because he wanted to, but the memory of Kristoph's hands on his body makes him want to hurl everything up.
But maybe he doesn't quite throw up.
What is there to hurl?
-
"Wright, you do realize I'm paying? You can eat whatever you'd like."
Phoenix pushes away his plate, smiling at Miles Edgeworth, who has no idea, has never understood, has never had to struggle, has never-
"Don't worry about me."
The smile is hauntingly real. After all, he practices it in the mirror between naps.
He takes another swig of grape juice.