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Contrary to popular belief, the worst cases weren't the ones he lost, or the ones where he faced Wright.
Losses were reminders that he was not, and could never really be perfect, and it was something he had grown to accept over the past few years, given how toxic the attempts to be perfect had been to him. Facing Wright could be frustrating, but it was an excellent challenge and he could always be assured, by the end of it, that the truth really truly had been found, even if the process of finding it was full of blustering, bluffing, and absolutely ridiculous shenanigans.
No, the worst cases were the ones that involved children.
This particular case had been...stressful. The defense attorney, who had reminded Miles of Hammond at times, was fighting with a plea of temporary insanity. And the Miles Edgeworth a few years ago would take the easy win and wash his hands of the case, not letting himself look too closely after his first truly gruesome case had led to him vomitting in a court bathroom and swearing a concerned Detective Gumshoe to secrecy. But the Miles Edgeworth of now was a man dedicated to the truth, even if it was painful, and so he had painstakingly investigated all of the details.
He wished it had been temporary insanity, honestly. But no. The culprit had been completely lucid as he murdered his two children in cold blood. All to get back at his wife for wanting a divorce.
There was no celebration when the Judge declared the culprit guilty of two counts of murder in the first degree.
Miles was...exhausted. Numb. He returned to his office and mindlessly began to work, because what else was he supposed to do? He couldn't break down at every hard case, couldn't take the rest of the day off just because of a victory that felt hollow when it was resting on the lives of two children.
Admittedly, he lost track of time, and when there was a knock at his door he jumped, only to see Wright peeking in with a concerned look on his face.
"Wright?" he asked, confused. "What are you doing here?"
"I came to check in on you," Wright answered. "I was told you were having a bad day so..." He held out a to-go bag from a restaurant Miles knew both he and Wright enjoyed. "I figured you'd be here. You know the work day is over, right?"
He glanced at the clock, and it confirmed what Wright had told him. He must have lost track of time.
"Who told you?" Miles asked, confused, and Wright laughed.
"Here, I'll let you see."
He handed his phone to Miles, who saw a text message from Detective Gumshoe on it.
Gumshoe: hey pal mr. edgeworth is having a bad day so do you think you could come by and see him?
"And..." Wright continued, hitting the back button before selecting another conversation.
The Best: i think Mr. Edgeworth needs a visit from someone who could cheer him up right now
"And..."
GTY: hi mr wright!
GTY: i know u care a lot about mr edgeworth and gummy told me the case he had today was really bad
GTY: maybe u could go see him???
"And..." Wright added, and Miles let out a disbelieving noise. "Don't worry this is the last one."
Franziska: My fool of a brother needs comfort.
Franziska: Help him or else.
She had also sent an audio file, but Miles didn't really need to listen to it. He already knew what it was.
"...That seems excessive," he muttered, his voice sounding more fond than irritated despite himself, and Wright gave him a small smile.
"You know, it's alright to be happy that people care about you and want you to be happy," he pointed out. Then, his smile fell, and he asked, "Do you want to talk about it?"
"...Not right now." Then, he stood. "I would prefer if we didn't eat in the office. My house would be much more ideal."
The food was good, and Miles realized while he was eating that he had not actually eaten food since breakfast, and his meal disappeared in seconds. Wright didn't say anything about it, and in fact he wordlessly nudged the side dish of his own dinner over to Miles, who, after a moment, ate that too.
Then, Miles brought out a bottle of wine, offering some to Wright, who shook his head.
"I don't really drink," he admitted. "Larry and I both kind of swore off alcohol like six years ago, and it was kind of my fault." Then, a bit quieter, "I don't want to talk about it."
Miles nodded, putting the bottle away. He could have maybe used a drink or two, to deal with the events of the day, but he didn't want to make Wright potentially uncomfortable. Instead, he got both of them water, and Wright gave him a smile at that.
After both of them were done eating, Miles took a deep breath, asking, "I assume no one shared the details of the case with you?"
"No," Wright answered simply.
"Well...I would rather not discuss them myself," Miles answered. "I will simply say the defendant was absolutely guilty and the victims..." He took a shaking breath. "The victims were...children."
"...Oh." Wright's face fell. "I...shit, Edgeworth, that's awful. And you...you just went back to work?"
"I had no choice," Miles insisted. "I am not able to simply leave my duties because of something emotionally taxing. I am expected to perform them even when they are stressful or upsetting."
"...Yeah, I remember," Wright muttered. "They really don't care much about mental health at the Prosecutor's Office, do they? That must have been awful, just having to continue working like normal after that."
Miles sighed. "In all honesty, I barely even noticed."
They sat in silence for a while, and then Wright asked, "How do you feel?"
"It doesn't matter how I feel," Miles answered. "It was my job to ensure the culprit was held responsible for his actions, and letting my emotions get in the way would have damaged my case."
"Edgeworth...no, Miles." Wright looked at him incredibly seriously. "The trial is over now. This isn't the courtroom or even your office. You're at home, and your friend is asking you how you feel because he cares about you." He took a deep breath, reachibg out and resting a hand on Miles', before adding, "My mentor used to say 'Lawyers can't cry until it's over.' Well, it's over, Miles. You're allowed to deal with how you feel about it now."
Miles looked at the hand that Wright...that Phoenix had rested on his, taking a shallow breath as he did. Then, quietly, he admitted, "It was awful. It was so petty and awful and...and the defense claimed temporary insanity except there was proof...there was proof he had planned it. And now...now two children are dead, and I can't understand it, and I don't want to understand." Miles' voice shook as he spoke, like he was close to falling to pieces. "They...neither of them were even ten years old yet, Phoenix."
And Phoenix stood up from his chair, crouching by Miles and wrapping his arms around him. And Miles stiffened for a moment before letting himself relax into the embrace shaking as he did. And maybe he cried, but he would never admit it, and somehow he knew Phoenix wouldn't say a word to anyone if he did.
Miles was well aware that the world was unfair, but sometimes, being reminded of it still hurt.
Phoenix hummed a song Miles didn't recognize, but it was quiet and slow and relaxing, and eventually Miles stopped shaking.
"I'm sorry," Miles mumbled, a little ashamed.
"Don't be," Phoenix assured him. "I'm always there if you need help, Miles. I promise."