Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Phoenix was freezing.

He’d almost been this cold exactly once. It’s not a memory he likes to revisit, but he can call it up too easily. Trying to run across that burning bridge and then falling, falling, falling into bitterly cold, absolutely freezing water. 

The water Phoenix was in now was also bitterly cold, but this time that cold had seeped through his skin, through flesh, had become nestled in his bone. Warmth seemed to be a distant memory, an impossible concept. There was nothing but Phoenix, the cold, and the water surrounding him. It’d be so easy to just… stop. He wasn’t currently moving. If he wanted, he could stay like that, drifting, umoving, so still and so very cold. 

But no, he couldn’t die, not yet. 

He moved his arms and legs. They felt like lead weights, but he couldn’t stay here. He had friends, people who cared about him, who would care if he stayed here in the dark and cold and wet, so he had to move. There was ground beneath him, rocks and mud and algae, and it was the only way he knew up from down. He pushed off of it, upward. He attempted to open his eyes, but the water stung, and the world was far too blurry and dim to see anything.

It felt like he was swimming for months, years, centuries. Time had no meaning. All there was in the world was the water.

At first, when he reached the point where gravity had a hold again, he wanted to withdraw back into the water. Then, the smarter part of him realized that that sudden loss of weightlessness was the shore, was solid ground, was no longer needing to swim, and he dragged and clawed at the dirt, pulling himself forward and out. He shook like a leaf in the wind, legs still submerged, unable to go any further. He curled around himself and then, as if his lungs had only just realized what was going on, started throwing up water, coughing out lungs full of the liquid. 

There was a part of him, calm and collected, sitting back and watching where the cards fell in all of this, that noticed just how much water he’d had in his lungs. Lungs that hadn’t burned throughout the entire swim, but had felt just as cold as the rest of him. It was easily enough water to drown someone.

The rest of Phoenix, however, didn’t care, just insistent on being able to breath again. 

Breathing was hard, lungs spasming between wanting to cough more and wanting to have air in them again. He felt like his ribs were going to crack and break apart, unable to keep up with the frantic and desperate movements of his lungs.

He was still so cold, and he curled up even further. One hand felt something smooth and familiar and closed around it, bringing the item closer to his center like a lifeline. 

Phoenix needed to move. He needed to get up, find help, get dry, do something!.

But he couldn’t. 

There was sudden light and if he was capable of making sound, Phoenix would’ve protested against it. As it stood, all he could do was close his eyes tighter.

“F- Uh, M-Ms. Von Karma, I’ve found him! Von Karma! Mr. Wright, sir, can you hear me?! Sir?!”

The voice was so loud. There hadn’t been noise in the water. God, for all the effort Phoenix had made to get out of it, he found himself longing to be back there. 

“Ohgodohgoddon’tbedeaddon’tbedead,”

The ground near Phoenix shook slightly and then, at long last, there was warmth. 

At first, the heat only came from a pressure on his neck, and then it was gone. He’d forgotten what heat felt like, and he wanted it back immediately. He tried to say something, but he doubled over coughing again. 

Apparently it was some use, as he was then wrapped up in the heat, in the warmth. He felt so cold, still soaked. His hand that wasn’t holding onto the smooth object tried to grab at the the warmth and found itself gripping fabric. 

“Wright! Wright, you fool! Gumshoe, have you called an ambulance yet?”

“No, not yet ma’am.”

Gumshoe… yes, Phoenix knew a Gumshoe. The deep voice rumbled from what Phoenix was being held against. It was comforting. Gumshoe was safe, and warm, and could be trusted. 

Phoenix returned back to the darkness.

oOo

The first time Phoenix woke up, he was completely warm, and it was so perfect, so wonderful, that he fell back to sleep again immediately.

The second time, he had enough energy to open his eyes.

There was something heavy and soft on top of him. He pulled it further around himself and felt the softness of it. A blanket. It took no more than a glance to his side, to the machine that let out beeps perfectly in time with his own heartbeat, to realize where he was. A hospital. The events from… from… how long had he been out? The events from the last time Phoenix had been awake filtered in, disjointed and strange. He shivered at merely the memory of being cold and reminded himself he wasn’t in the deep and dark abyss any longer. 

He was in a hospital.

Gumshoe had found him.

He was okay. 

But what exactly was he going to be okay from?

Phoenix’s brow furrowed and he tried to sit up as he thought. All of his muscles protested at the attempt and he gave in to their cries easily, going nearly boneless. He could remember swimming through the water until he reached shore. Why had he been in the water in the first place? He thought back further.

He remembered going to one of Trucy’s shows. It had been good, as they always were. She’d had some new material, most of which she’d practiced on him before, but there was a trick or two that caught him by as much surprise as the rest of the onlookers. Miles had attended for once and had brought Trucy a big bouquet that she had gushed over the entire walk home. 

He’d stayed up late, catching up with Miles. How rare it always seemed to be able to do that in person. Well, it was far less rare now, but seven years of nigh-constant distance wasn’t so quickly replaced.

He’d gone to bed… and then there was the water. If there was something between the two events - and surely there had to be - Phoenix wasn’t aware of it. 

“Wright…” 

A jolt ran down Phoenix’s spine and he automatically tried to sit up again, and once more failed to do so. He groaned at the pain, and his flopping around like a dying fish had changed his position enough to see the other side of the room. There were two chairs. Sitting in one was a vase of flowers with a balloon tied to it that read ‘Get Well Soon’. On the other chair was Franziska Von Karma.

“You fool!” She screamed and Phoenix flinched back. She had her whip in hand, tightly coiled up, and he counted his blessings she kept it like that instead of actually whipping him. She smacked the whip against his arm, and it turned out he had enough strength to try and shift over just a bit, just enough to be out of range. Except now Franziska was standing up, and saying a litany of “You foolish fool of a fool’s fools, fool of a man, foolishly fooling,” that Phoenix wasn’t even half listening to, just waiting for it to be over. He had half a mind to just pass out again. He was still tired, after all. 

“You, you ,” 

Phoenix’s eyes had slid shut at some point, but he opened them again when he realized there was something odd in Franziska’s voice. Actually, there was something odd about Franziska’s presence. Wasn’t she still in Germany? He knew she and Miles and been talking about her coming back to the states, but plans hadn’t been finalized. Had Miles asked her to watch him or something? She gave her one more hit on his likely-now-bruised arm, though this time it had noticeably less force behind it, and Phoenix watched in equal-parts confusion and shock as Franziska von Karma began to cry.

“You had me so scared! ”

Phoenix could do nothing but stare as big tears rolled down the woman’s cheek. Her face was screwed up tight and she was shaking slightly. She sniffled, and then reached up to wipe away the tears. 

“Ms. Von Karma.” Phoenix said. Or, he attempted to say. His tongue slurred through the movements, muddling the name, and his voice sounded far too rough. 

“Wright, what happened, where were you?!” She demanded, grabbing his shoulders, begging him for answers. 

“I… I don’t know.” He answered honestly. 

Franziska slowly straightened, placing her whip back on her hip. She was still shaking as she drew in a deep breath, but by the time she let it out slowly she was composed once more. Her face wasn’t flushed, her eyes weren’t red. If someone walked into the door right then, they’d never know she’d been crying at all. She sat back down and grabbed a file off of the side table, flipping it open.

“Father has decided to assign your case to that fool Gavin, but it was simple to get a copy of it. Scruffy can truly provide a great distraction.” She flipped open the file. “You were found at Gourd Lake one ago after being missing for a week. You were nearly drowned, and there was a rope found around your right ankle. There were bruises around the rope, but no other injury was found. You were, however, holding on to a strange green charm.” She snapped the file closed and gave him another look over, “The doctor said you were lucky to be alive. Clearly, she wasn’t familiar with your habit of bouncing back from ridiculous injuries. As it’s Friday, you’re expected back by Monday, although your current case was handed off to Debeste to finish.”

Phoenix’s brain felt a bit like soup, but not so much so that he didn’t understand what she was saying. The problem lied in the fact that what she was saying didn’t make any sense, and for the time being he set aside the confusing parts in favor of focusing on what had made sense. Yes, being found nearly drowned was what he remembered. The rope was somewhat surprising, but also made sense as to how Phoenix had been drowning. The implications, of course, didn’t sit exactly well. He imagined there was some kind of cinder block at the bottom of Gourd Lake now with the other half of the rope tied to it. He didn’t think he’d made any enemies that would hold that much of a vendetta, at least not recently. And then, the green charm… Oh!

For a third time he tried to sit up, and this time he actually managed to do so for an entire second before his core muscles gave out on him. Franziska took pity on him and hit the button on the bet that brought him up into more of a sitting position. 

“The green charm! Where is it?” He asked. 

“It’s being held as evidence currently. It might provide a clue to who did this to you.” Rage flitted across Franziska’s features for a moment, so quickly Phoenix almost thought it could be a trick of the light, “I must get back to work. I’ll have Scruffy stop by often to keep tabs on you. The doctor’s will likely want to hold you for one more night, but I’ll see if I can’t convince them to let you go by the end of the day.” She reached over and grabbed Phoenix’s hand giving it a very awkward squeeze that was probably supposed to be comforting, “Get rest. I’ll be back later this evening… brother.”

And then, before Phoenix even had time to process what she’d just called him, Franziska von Karma left the room.

Chapter Text

What Franziska had said rattled around Phoenix’s head for the rest of the day. 

He would’ve loved to have been able to ask any questions about just about anything she said. Clearly the thing that had his most attention was the ‘brother’ title she’d pulled out of nowhere. His first rationalization had been that it was a really weird way to tell him that she had noticed how he looked at Miles and was all on board for it. 

This idea was supported by the fact both Miles and Franziska, due to their upbringing, tended to be more than a little… odd when it came to expressing feelings and opinions. Oh, sometimes they were far far too straight forward, but this could be one of the times where dancing around the fact was favored. Maybe if calling him ‘brother’ had been the only odd thing, Phoenix would’ve been able to convince himself he had the answer right then and there. Unfortunately, she’d said several other things that rang some warning bells.

Like ‘Father’. 

Phoenix knew for a fact that Manfred von Karma was dead. As far as he knew, neither Franziska nor Miles had attended the hanging, although he admittedly hadn’t asked them. He knew he hadn’t been able to go to Delilah’s. It had been a somber event, as one would expect. It wasn’t the first time Phoenix had gone to an execution, though he didn’t make a habit of it or anything. Still, it felt right to remind himself of the very real consequences others received due to his job. He hadn’t gone to gloat or anything. He just knew he’d sleep a bit better knowing, with his own eyes, that the man was dead, and dead due to a conviction Phoenix had brought about.

And that it wasn’t Miles being hung instead.

So, yes, Franziska von Karma saying that her father was doing or saying anything couldn’t be good. 

Then, being assigned cases? His case going to someone else that wasn’t a part of his agency? 

None of it was making any sense.

Given the chance, Phoenix would’ve called somebody, but he didn’t have a phone on him. In fact, he didn’t have anything on him. It wasn’t like the other times he’d been in the hospital, where he was surrounded by thousands of hours of ‘Steel Samurai’ and various spin-off content to watch, or Trucy leaving him little items to keep himself occupied, or somebody always sitting in one of the chairs like they were taking shifts.

It felt… well, it felt lonely. He wondered who knew he was here. If he’d been missing for a week like Franziska had said, he would’ve expected to be mobbed by everybody by now. He tried not to think about it too much. 

With nothing to do, and still bone-tired, it didn’t take long for Phoenix to fall asleep again. This was probably a good thing, as he clearly needed rest, but it also didn’t leave him much time to puzzle through Franziska’s words. He felt like he dreamed, with how every time he woke up gasping and with chills running down his spine (he hated the cold god did he hate the cold), but whatever content the dreams contained didn’t cross through the veil netween dreaming and waking. 

There were small signs that somebody had been by. The flowers being moved, a coat on a chair, his blanket shifted around to cover him better. However, for most of the day, Phoenix somehow managed to avoid seeing anybody, whether they be detective or nurse or his own family. 

Finally, as the sun was getting low, Phoenix startled awake again, instinctively drawing the blanket closer against a nonexistent chill, and there was somebody else in the room. The unexpectedness of this made Phoenix startle again, and Gumshoe gave a loud and easy laugh.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you, sir,” He had a clipboard in his hand that he passed over to Phoenix. It was amazing what a few hours of good rest could do, really. He already had enough strength to sit up, and while his muscles still didn’t seem to agree with action too much, he imagined it was more of a matter getting them loose again at this point. He’d always been a quick healer, “Ms. Von Karma called ahead and got the hospital to agree to send you home. I’m your chauffeur. You’ve just got to sign off some of this stuff.”

Phoenix scrawled his signature where the paperwork said to. It wasn’t anything he hadn’t seen before. Gumshoe left with it and came back a moment later with a nurse. She unhooked him from the heart monitor and told him that, really, they would’ve liked to keep him one more night. Phoenix had laughed and assured her he’d be fine once he was home. 

Maybe he’d just have Gumshoe drop him off at the Agency instead of his house. Why work from home when you could just make your work your home? While he didn’t currently actively live in the office, he had for so long that sometimes it was hard to separate the two in his mind. 

Gumshoe had brought him a change of clothes, and it was a huge relief to find that he did have enough strength to go into the bathroom himself and get changed on his own. The clothes were simple, just a pair of dress shoes, dark blue slacks, and a white button-down. Phoenix’s hands shook a bit too much for his liking as he did the buttons. He had to stop halfway through them, taking a few deep breaths in an effort to get the shaking to stop. He hated feeling weak like this. It so rarely happened, and it never lasted long, but the idea of not being strong enough to deal with something going wrong was absolutely terrifying. He’d gotten sick a couple years ago and had slept in front of the office door just to be sure nobody would try to get in. Trucy had slept on the couch, insistent on keeping an eye on him. 

“That might be the most casual I’ve ever seen you, sir.” Gumshoe said when Phoenix came out. Phoenix snorted.

“Yeah, because this is so much worse than my hoodie and beanie combo.” He joked. Gumshoe gave him a confused look and Phoenix sighed. Usually it was the one who’d been at the bottom of the barrel that didn’t like to bring it up, but plenty of people in his life seemed content to pretend the last seven years hadn’t existed. Usually Gumshoe wasn’t one of them, though. “Hey, why are you driving me home, anyway?”

“Ms. Von Karma’s staying late working on a case.” Gumshoe said which, okay, that didn't exactly explain why it wasn’t someone else. 

“Okaaaay, and you’re driving me because…?” 

“If you don’t want me to, sir, I mean, I guess my car-” Gumshoe began to fumble. 

“No! It’s okay, I just, I guess I expected others to be, you know… here.” Phoenix ran a hand down his face. No, he refused to already feel tired again. He’d been sleeping all day. 

“Sorry sir.” Gumshoe gave him a pat on the shoulder. “C’mon, let’s get you home before Ms. Von Karma gets off. She’ll kill me if she thinks I didn’t get you there promptly.

“Would she?” 

“Of course, sir!” Gumshoe answered right away, looking shocked. Phoenix made a disbelieving sound. Had her time in Europe really changed her that much? 

He was just about leaning on Gumshoe by the time they reached his car, a big old truck that took Phoenix far too long to climb into. 

“Are you the detective on my case?” Phoenix asked after a couple minutes of silence as Gumshoe started down the busy streets. 

“Unfortunately not, sir. I’m a homicide detective, and lucky for us there’s no homicide this time. But it means there’s not much I can tell you about the investigation without doing some investigating of my own. But don’t you worry, sir! I’ll do everything I can to keep on top of it.” Gumshoe assured him.

“Dang it.” Phoenix had hoped there’d be some way he could convince Gumshoe to sneak him the magatama, but apparently he’d have to just wait until it was released form evidence. He couldn’t imagine they’d have a reason to keep it, so it shouldn’t be that long. “Hey, Gumshoe, why do you keep calling me sir?” 

“Sir?” Gumshoe looked profoundly confused now. 

“Yeah, like that.”

“You told me to when we first met.” Gumshoe reminded him. Or acted like he was reminding him, because Phoenix had most certainly not done that.

“No, I didn’t.” Phoenix corrected. 

“... are you feeling okay sir?” Gumshoe asked, “Do we need to go back to the hospital?”

“No! No, I’m fine. Just, you can call me Phoenix, you know, or pal. You don’t need to call me sir.” Gumshoe positively beamed at Phoenix.

“Alright, Phoenix!”

Despite himself, he started to nod off in the truck, and was woken up by the car stopping and the sudden absence of the loud and rumbling engine. 

He yawned and stretched again, ready to be home. He could already hear Trucy’s ‘Daddy!’ ringing in his ears. She always insisted on taking care of him when he was sick or hurt, and he hated how she felt she needed to, but he also had such a hard time saying no to her. 

He swung the door open, half-fell half-stepped out of the truck, and then sighed heavily, climbing back into the car.

“Alright, here we- sir?” 

“Gumshoe, that’s not my apartment building.” Phoenix stopped himself from rolling his eyes. In the comedy of errors that seemed to follow Gumshoe, this was pretty low on the list, but he was so ready to be home he couldn’t help but to feel a bit frustrated. 

“No, it isn’t,” Gumshoe said slowly. He was by now standing in front of Phoenix’s side of the car, looking between him and the very legitimate house. It wasn’t a fancy house, nor a big one, but any sort of house was currently so far outside of Phoenix’s budget it wasn’t even a fantasy of his to own one, “It’s your house.” 

“I don’t have a house.” 

“S- uh, Phoenix, are you feeling okay?” 

“I feel fine!” Phoenix exclaimed, and it was shouted a bit more than he intended. Gumshoe kept frowning at him and put the back of one of his hands against Phoenix’s forehead. 

“Let’s get inside. Ms. Von Karma gave me your keys.” Gumshoe insisted, and Phoenix groaned but got out of the car, fully expecting to follow Gumshoe to the house, find his apartment keys didn’t open the door of the house they were at, and have to guide Gumshoe down the California roads until they reached his apartment complex. 

Then, the keys worked. 

Phoenix could only stare as Gumshoe put the keys into the lock, turned them, and opened the door. Was this… Franziska’s house? But no, that didn’t make any sense, why would she have him stay at her house? 

Oh god, what if something had happened to everybody else?

Once the idea had planted itself in his head, Phoenix found it hard to breath. Rest? Who needed rest. Phoenix needed to find his family right the fuck now. 

“Gumshoe, where is everybody?” Phoenix demanded, standing in the doorway. Gumshoe had made a gesture to hand the keys off to Phoenix, but he made no move to take them. 

“Sir-”

“Where’s Miles, where’s Trucy, where’s Apollo and Maya and everybody, Gumshoe, what are you doing here?!” Phoenix grabbed the front of Gumshoe’s shirt and shook it. It did little against the wall of a man. He looked more confused than ever. 

“Who?”

“Miles! Trucy! Apollo! Maya!” Phoenix repeated and made a second attempt to shake the man. 

“Mr. Wright, I think you need some more rest.” Gumshoe said with the same kind of voice Phoenix might’ve given a stubborn Trucy when she was younger. 

“I’ve been getting rest all day!” 

“Phoenix, you nearly drowned. You didn’t wake up for two days. Get some real rest, at home. Ms. Von Karma said she’ll be by later tonight.”

He all but shoved Phoenix into the house and closed the door behind him.

“Gumshoe!” Phoenix swung the door open right away. “Gumshoe, what is going on?!”

“Get some rest, Phoenix.” Gumshoe insisted once more, got in his truck, and left Phoenix at someone else’s house. 

“Shit.” Phoenix closed the door. Well, he’d just find a phone and call someone to pick him up. 

Because he would call them, and they would pick up, because they were fine. This was just a huge misunderstanding. 

The house reminded Phoenix more of a hotel than a place people actively lived in. Fancy decorations and pieces of completely forgettable art decorating tables and walls. It was like a set; all for show. 

It soon became apparent that whoever lived here didn’t still own a landline. Phoenix groaned in frustration, continuing to look around. There wasn’t a spot of dust to be seen, and for some reason that was also frustrating. He tromped around, hoping there was somebody here he might wake up and would let them borrow their cell phone. 

He finally gave in to snooping around the person’s bedroom. It was just as neat and tidy as the rest of the house. They had an immaculate four-poster bed with a plush comforter that looked barely slept in. He went to the side table right next to the bed. It was where he’d keep his phone, and maybe they accidentally left it there before they left?

Phoenix set his hand on the handle of the drawer, but found he couldn’t move. 

His eyes were fixed on the small framed picture sitting on the table. It was a picture of three serious looking individuals. He had no problem placing any of them, and yet his eyes kept going over each and every one, not comprehending it. He recognized Manfred Von Karma, who looked more or less the same as when Phoenix remembered. One of the people standing in front of him was a young Franziska, only recognizable due to her odd hair color and that Phoenix had seen a picture of her that Miles had shown with utmost discretion. 

And the third was Phoenix himself.

“What… what the HELL?!”

Phoenix shot to his feet and then immediately fell back to the ground. That hadn’t been a good idea, body betraying him in his moment of need. He drew in quick and short breaths, exhausted and confused and angry, and yes he knew what a panic attack felt like, this was it, but that didn’t help the matter. He didn’t know what was going on. 

All he wanted right now was to hold his daughter in her arms, like he did after every meeting with Kristoph, every night at the Borscht Bowl, every time it felt like he might’ve finally gotten in over his head. He wanted to hold Trucy and know that no matter what, no matter what had or will happen, he had her alive and safe.

“Breath, breath with me.” 

There was a hand on his shoulder. Phoenix grabbed it and held onto it like the lifeline it was. Someone was making exaggerated breathing sounds and eventually Phoenix caught on to them. In time, his breathing returned to normal, deep and slow. He almost fell asleep on the floor next to a stranger’s bed but he forced his eyes to open back up.

Franziska von Karma knelt over him, face so carefully devoid of emotion. 

“Franziska,” Phoenix whispered, “What’s going on?”

“You’re panicking on the floor of your bedroom. Perhaps you should’ve stayed at the hospital another night.” She said. 

“Franziska, that picture, where did it come from?” He was almost begging her now. She looked over at it, some emotion flickering too fast over her features. 

“From long ago, little brother,” She said, and like Gumshoe had, she felt his forehead, “You need more rest, fool. Father wants you back by Monday. Anything less wouldn’t be perfection.” 

“Fuck his perfection.” Phoenix mumbled, even as he felt himself losing the battle to stay awake. 

“Phoenix,” Franziska said, her voice suddenly shark and grip on him too tight. He fought to look at her. She looked scared, “You damn fool, do not say that. You’re tired and you’re not thinking right.” She hauled him onto the bed, ripping the blanket out from under him and then tucking him in. 

“Where’s Miles?” He asked, one last desperate vy for information.

“Nowhere near here.” She said like it was a consolation, like it was a reassurance, and it was all Phoenix could do not to cry.

Chapter Text

The house was still there when Phoenix woke up. Franziska was not. 

He ran a hand down his face as if trying to physically wipe the sleep off of him. He was more than disappointed to find himself still in the strange house, sleeping in the strange bed. It was a plush and cozy thing, and Phoenix found he hated it. The pillows offered little to no real support, and the comforter felt like there was simply too much of it to go around, like he might drown in it, which really was a little too soon. He fumbled his way out of it and had to support himself on the side table as the combination of just barely waking up and his still very sore and tired body made balance seem like acrobatics. 

The picture was still there. Phoenix looked away. He wasn’t usually prone to panic attacks, but if he didn’t get answers about something soon he might just have another one. 

Okay, so he clearly wasn’t going to be getting any answers out of Franziska or Gumshoe. He could probably figure his way back to his apartment or the office, but if he was here in this strange house, it might be worth it to continue where he’d left off and see what he might learn about the owner. 

While the bedroom still looked far nicer than Phoenix’s and still had an untouchable energy about it, it actually had some signs of living in it. There were things in the drawer, like pens and medication, little knick-knacks that meant nothing to him but did mean somebody had lived here. He held up one the bottles. It looked like a prescription with the name ‘Escitalopram’ on it. Considering it wasn’t tylenol or acetaphetamine, Phoenix had absolutely no idea what it was for and put it back. 

The closet was filled with different variations of blue suits.  They ranged from dark blue to also dark blue, with a single light blue that was an absolute outlier. The suits were much more extravagant than anything Phoenix usually wore. There were a couple pairs of black dress shoes, but they were easily outnumbered by pairs of brown and black boots. He couldn’t find any ties, oddly enough, but there were scarves and cravats. He smiled a bit at the thought that the owner of the house had a similar fashion sense to Miles. The smile was wiped off by realizing that actually, the fashion was more like Manfred von Karma. 

It’s only when Phoenix went to the living room that he found what he considered damning evidence. 

Of all the rooms in the house, the living room is the one that was most like a set. There were two large armchairs, an elaborate fireplace, ornate bookshelves and side tables. No dust, and yet everything seemed like it'd never been so much as breathed on, feeling like a library or the courthouse in the early early mornings or a church. It felt the opposite of how a home was supposed to feel. Phoenix had to wonder if anybody had ever sat in those chairs, and if they had if it’d been anything close to a comfortable conversation. 

But the thing that drew the eyes most in the room was the large oil painting above the mantle. It was needlessly extravagant, and the eyes of the painted man looked down at Phoenix with reproach.

A man who looked just like Phoenix.

This Phoenix was dressed in the clothes from the closet. Something about the way he wore them gave him an air of pride and wealth, of power, of confidence. His expression and eyes were cold and sharp, so much like the Von Karma’s that it felt like a punch in the gut. A million reasonable explanations leap to the ready, a million perfectly sound explanations for why in a stranger’s house, there’s a painting of Phoenix Wright in an outfit he’s never worn.

But here’s the thing: it’s a ‘stranger’s house’ that two people seem to believe to be Phoenix’s. 

It’s a painting of Phoenix looking like Von Karma, and upstairs there’s a photo of him that shouldn’t exist of him standing with Franziska and Manfred von Karma. 

There’s nobody who had reached out to him other than Gumshoe and Franziska, no family or co-workers (and where does the line between the two end and begin?) who have rushed to his side. 

Phoenix almost had another panic attack, sinking down into an armchair, leaning his head back and taking deliberately deep breaths of air that fill his lungs wonderfully. It was not a comfortable chair, he found.

Nothing made sense, but he’s started to pick up a pattern that could be followed here, and the picture it made didn't sit well with him. He wanted to reject it altogether, but he’s reminded of the insane things he’s seen before. This is, admittedly, the weirdest by far, but he’d be even more insane to reject the idea completely. What was it Godot had said? “Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth.”

So it must be the truth. Phoenix was raised alongside Franziska von Karma.

“What the fuck.” Phoenix said to himself. He stared at the painting of apparently himself, and then realized he hated looking at it and hated looking at him so he got up and went to the kitchen. 

In the kitchen, there was a pile of neatly folded dark-blue clothes on the table with a note on top. Phoenix passed it by at first in favor of grabbing a cup and filling it with ice-cold water. It helped to wake him up completely and resharpen his mind. Okay, so he’s dealing with some, what, weird ‘It’s a Wonderful Life’ sort of scenario? Except that wasn’t completely true, seeing as he was still alive. So more like that one movie he’d seen a million years ago where a man had woken up in a world where he wasn’t some big-shot CEO and instead had a family. 

This felt like the exact opposite of that. 

Still, having at least some reference, some category to place his situation into, was comforting and gave Phoenix the energy needed to confront the note. 

Mr. Wright Sir!,

Here are your things from the hospital. I forgot to pick them up from the hospital, so I had to run back and get them!

Ms. Von Karma said not to wake you, so I’m leaving this note. If you need to know anything I know about your case, give me a call! I’ll be keeping a close eye on it for you!  I’ll see you at work Monday.

Hope you feel better!

~ Dick Gumshoe

Phoenix had been expecting something to surprise him even more, but the note itself was fairly mundane. It was still weird that Gumshoe was calling ‘Mr.’ and ‘Sir’, but he supposed if he was a Von Karma that that’d make sense. 

God just the thought ‘him as a Von Karma’ made him recoil. 

The items that Gumshoe had brought over were rather simple. A dark blue suit, matching all the ones from upstairs. A cell phone that refused to turn on and Phoenix had a feeling was probably water damaged beyond repair. His wallet, which had a driver’s license in it and it was good to know that he’d have access to money with whatever was going on, although he hoped the Phoenix of this world wrote down his passwords and such somewhere. A keyring with keys that were not clearly labeled for purpose.

The gut punch he’d been anticipating, he found when he went back upstairs to put the suit away, unfolded it, and a small metal pin fell from the pile. 

A prosecutor’s pin.

Phoenix didn’t freak out, but he did bite the inside of his mouth as he picked it up and turned it over in his palm. It looked like ‘he’d’ had it for a while, the small scratches on the surface impossible to keep from acculating after a while, even for prosecutor’s who didn’t wear it on the lapel like most defense attorney’s did. 

Prosecutor. 

It really figured. 

He returned back to the kitchen, seeing as he had nothing better to do, and raided the cupboards and fridge for something to eat. He breathed a sigh of relief when he found various appealing options. He’d started to worry that maybe ‘Phoenix’ had been a health nut too or something, but nope, there in the back of the fridge was a bottle of grape juice ripe for the taking, as well as a tupperware of what looked like some fancy leftover lasagna. 

He reheated it and stared at the badge a bit more. The number on the back was foreign to him, a number that belonged to someone else, and yet apparently to him too, seeing as he was Phoenix. He wondered idly about the other Phoenix he’d replaced. Maybe they’d switched places? Or maybe this world wasn’t real and in a few days he’d run into some cryptic stranger he’d beg to bring him back home because he’d learned his lesson. That was probably the current crux of the issue, wasn’t it? Was this a ‘run out the clock’ scenario, or was he supposed to figure out a way home? 

Phoenix groaned and rested his head in his hands.

God, this was the most stressed he’d felt since his disbarment. There was no way this was good for his health. 

oOo

After lunch, he was able to devise a plan. 

In ‘his’ room, he was able to find an empty notebook as well as what was probably the world’s fanciest pen. He sat down in one of the untouchable chairs in the room with the fireplace, giving the portrait of ‘Phoenix’ a glare because he’d be damned if he let himself be intimidated by himself, and then set about making notes.

Topmost were that he was associated with the Von Karma’s. Franziska had called him ‘little brother’, but thankfully his driver’s license read ‘Phoenix Wright’. It didn’t answer whether or not he’d been adopted exactly, but he imagined it was the same as it had been for Miles. He added a note to that that apparently Miles was not part of the Von Karma’s considering Franziska’s assurance that he was nowhere near the house or Phoenix. 

Secondly was that he was a prosecutor, which meant he worked at the prosecutor office, and did things like get assigned cases and prosecute murder suspects instead of defend them. He probably had a personal office somewhere, and while he likely had a key to his supposed office, it didn’t have a room number on it because that would be making his life too easy. 

Third was that he didn’t have his magatama. He’d need to see if he could convince Gumshoe to get it for him or something. However this was supposed to work out, he wasn’t going to leave this place without it. Logically, Maya or Pearl could probably make him a new one. It had looked like just a normal bead before Pearl had charged it with spiritual energy, but he’d had it for so long now that it carried sentimental value with it. Even now, not having it on his person made him nervous, so used to the weight of it in his pocket or tied around his neck or wrist. 

Fourth was a pro and con list of just… telling people he wasn’t ‘Phoenix’. The pros were that he’d be able to just have someone tell him what he needed to know, and people might go easy on him or help him figure things out. The cons were that the Von Karma’s might kick him out on the streets, or send him to a mental health place that he didn’t need against his will, or just insist he needed more rest. He was really starting to hate the word ‘rest’. He ultimately decided to play the cards close to his chest until he got more information. The Von Karma’s - specially Von Karma’s with a Manfred still alive and probably being as terrible as ever - weren’t people he wanted to give the chance to have the upperhand over him. Or, well, more than they probably already had. 

There was a computer in one of the rooms, and Phoenix almost smashed it to the ground when it booted up and had revealed it was password protected. That had led Phoenix to scrounging around the house, trying to figure out where someone who was him but wasn’t him would hide passwords. In the end, he found a desk in ‘his’ room that was locked, but one of the keys on the keyring was able to unlock it. There was a notebook in there, and Phoenix systematically went down the list of passwords until one worked on the computer.

And with that, he started his investigation.

Chapter Text

Phoenix’s weekend ended up being pretty busy. 

Franziska dropped by later Saturday with a new phone that she was nice enough to help him set up. She kept shooting him odd glances when she thought he wasn’t looking. If he knew how to pretend to be Prosecutor Phoenix he would, but all he could do was yawn loudly and hope she drew her own conclusion of ‘almost drowning has thrown him off his groove’. The phone had more bells and whistles than he was used to, but it still functioned as a phone at least. He had his contacts, but apparently Prosecutor Phoenix was enough like himself to put fun nicknames instead of actual names. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but Phoenix found it wasn’t such a great idea when he had no idea who was who. 

Gumshoe dropped by in the evening with dinner, and Phoenix took the chance to ask if the man would be able to help him out Monday on his first day back. Gumshoe had readily agreed, saying it’d be his pleasure, and assuring Phoenix that anybody who wanted to kidnap him would have to get through Gumshoe first. Phoenix smiled. That was… actually pretty comforting. 

He made a list of people to look up, and the results he found were interesting to say the least. Apparently, Miles was a defense attorney at Edgeworth & Fey Law Offices. Mia was still alive and worked at the same office, although her profile on the website said she was on a ‘leave of absence’, and suggested contacting Miles for help instead. 

He couldn’t find much on the Fey’s when he looked them up. Whether that was because any trials to do with them weren’t high-profile enough or if Morgan Fey hadn’t tried to frame her niece for murder in this world, Phoenix wasn’t sure. It did further confirm that here Mia was alive, and Phoenix spent far too much time looking up pictures of her. Not channeled by Pearl or Maya, not one of the pictures he’d looked at hundreds of times before, but new and wholly Mia Fey pictures. It felt surreal. The whole situation did, but there was something ever so slightly different about Mia being alive.  

He did his best to recall cases he had worked on. Some of the higher-profile ones he was able to find information on. Some had reached the verdict as they had in his world and some hadn’t. He wrote down the differences, the murderers who had gotten away. He wasn’t sure when he’d do with it, but it made him feel better to be doing something. 

Phoenix almost shoved the computer monitor off his desk when he saw that Gavin Law Offices had an up and functioning website with the man himself smiling on it. Oh, he was sure people would think it looked kind and warm, but all Phoenix could see was the cold venom underneath. He shouted and very nearly punched the wall when he saw that among the employees was Apollo Justice in his signature red suit. He’d had to go to the kitchen for another glass of ice-cold water, held in his hand that shook with rage, until he calmed down again. 

That was one of his people, still there with that monster. It made Phoenix sick to think about. He entertained the barest notion that perhaps here, Kristoph was different. Maybe he wasn’t a murderer, a man who had planned to decimate his brother’s first trial and had instead used it as a way to destroy Phoenix. A man who didn’t have enough ties in the police that for anything less than a murder charge, he probably would’ve gotten out, and as it was had been able to furnish his sell so very nicely. 

Phoenix doubted it. 

Of course, he also looked up Phoenix Wright.

This Phoenix’s career was indeed steeped in acclaim and the Von Karma name. He’d apparently held a long and perfect record, and in a neat and tidy parallel to back home, the streak had been broken by one Miles Edgeworth defending Maya Fey for the death of one Gregory Edgeworth and life-threatening injuries of Mia Fey. Phoenix had then lost a second case against Miles - the same Will Powers one they’d faced off in before. 

And then 'Phoenix' had regained his foothold and had returned to prestigious winning streaks that often went on for a couple years at a time. It was, well, it was certainly something. It didn’t tell Phoenix as much as he would’ve liked for it to have, but the little points about personal relationships and ties wasn’t exactly something someone could google their way to. 

There were too many holes in his research, too many people that he couldn’t easily place down as alive or dead, safe or in danger, hell even their job was up in the air! It was extremely frustrating. At the end of the day, there was only so much he could do without going out and getting his hands dirty, but he did take the advice of the three people he’d talked to so far and didn’t do anything reckless, instead staying in and letting himself recuperate. 

And now, now it was Monday morning. Monday, bright, early, Seven A.M. 

Phoenix adjusted and readjusted and re-readjusted the stupid fucking cravat. He was five seconds away from just not wearing it. He could probably get away with it, if he said ‘I’m just still tired :(. Please pity me because I almost drowned.’ But then he had to remind himself that he was Von Karma, and they were Perfect.

How Phoenix hated that word, how he’d spent years of his life rallying against the word perfect and perfection. Oh the cruel and terrible climb of doing everything he could to help the two who grew in Manfred’s shadow figure out where and what light was. It was a fight Miles and Franziska still had to go through, in fact.

Still, it meant that Phoenix was more familiar with what Von Karma defined as perfection than he would’ve liked. And, well, Von Karma only took the one vacation in his entire career. Phoenix was willing to bet money that he wouldn’t be allowed one for anything less than still being in the hospital or also covering up a murder.

He gave himself another look over. The feel of the outfit was foreign, like the first time he’d worn his suit since his disbarment turned up to eleven. He’d tried to piece together the outfit worn on the Phoenix painted above the mantle. Long blue coat, rufly cravat, black vest, brown boots. Phoenix turned this way and that, trying to get used to the way the long coat flowed, how the boots felt to walk in. His eyes kept catching on the prosecutor’s badge. He’d debated over pinning it to his lapel or not. It was well-known that while defense attorney’s wore their badge proudly, prosecutor’s tended to just keep it in a pocket or something. 

In the end, though, Phoenix hadn’t been able to bear the thought of being a lawyer - any kind of lawyer - with his lapel empty. So there it sat, the little red gem in the center gleaming. It looked wrong, just like everything else, but it was better than nothing.

Knocking at the door drew him out of his thoughts. He gave one more effort to straighten his coat, tried to swallow down a nervous lump in his throat, and went to the door. 

“Hey there Mr. Wright, here just like you asked!” Gumshoe greeted him. Phoenix couldn’t help but to grin at the man. He looked just like Phoenix remembered him, weird alternate world or not, and it was a comfort he desperately needed 

“Thanks Gumshoe. I just uh don’t think I, uh, feel up to driving yet, you know?” Phoenix said, scratching the back of his neck. He didn’t know how long he was going to have to keep this up, and he wasn’t looking forward to figuring out how to explain why he couldn’t drive his car. 

“No problem, sir! Or, uh, Phoenix. I’ll get you to the prosecutor’s office in a jiffy!” 

The prosecutor’s office was the same as it ever was. Big, imposing, clearly too much money behind it. 

“Gumshoe,” Phoenix said, the detective still right next to him, “could you walk me to my office?” 

“Of course, Phoenix!” Gumshoe agreed. Phoenix grimaced. He wasn’t upset about not arguing with Gumshoe per se, but he couldn’t deny how wrong it felt to be showered with the same kind of respect the man was supposed to have for Miles. 

It was early enough that not even many prosecutors were in just yet, or if they were they had gone to their own offices to get situated for the day. He asked what Gumshoe knew about his case, but the man once again said that he wasn’t the detective assigned to it. Apparently, some team of detectives visiting the area in some sort of exchange program had been given it, and they weren’t letting the details out just yet. 

“They’ll probably want to have a chat with you, though, so look out for that.” Gumshoe warned him and Phoenix nodded. Now that he thought about it, it was surprising nobody had tried to ask him about what had happened yet. It was probably some combination of Franziska and Gumshoe scaring people away. Phoenix couldn’t say he wasn’t thankful for the chance he’d had to come to terms with his situation, but he had no idea what he was going to tell the detective.

Actually, no, he knew exactly what he was going to tell the detective. The truth, actually, because he had no freaking clue how he got to be at the bottom of the lake. He knew he should probably be more concerned about that than he was, that apparently somebody had tried to kill him, but it felt distant compared to the rest of the situation. Maybe once he got his feet back under him he’d start worrying about his own attempted murder. 

Phoenix’s room was on the twelfth floor, and he was glad he didn’t have Miles’ aversion to elevators. He didn’t have any problem figuring out which key went to his door, luckily, because it was a keycard. He thanked Gumshoe, who told him he’d be by later if he needed anything, and not to hesitate to call him if he needed anything, absolutely anything.

The office could’ve been a room right out of the house. Elaborate, extraneous, but… well, and Phoenix really shouldn’t have been as excited as he was, but there was dust in the room. There were papers left strewn on his desk, a cup of some dark liquid long gone cold, small little trinkets on the desk. 

“God, he was a workaholic, wasn’t he?” Phoenix muttered under his breath as he sat down at his desk. 

He was just starting to shuffle his papers into a pile, looking them over curiously, when his door slammed open again and nearly gave him a heart attack.

“Jesus!” Phoenix yelped, grabbing the papers too tightly and wrinkling them

“Good, you’re here.” Franziska sniffed, striding into the room like she owned it.

“Yeah? It’s, uh, Monday. I work here?” Phoenix winced as it came out like a question. If Franziska noticed, however, she didn’t say. 

“Father would like to speak to you.” She informed him. 

“Why?” Phoenix blurted out. Franziska raised an eyebrow, a hand straying to his whip. 

“Do you really need to be told, fool?” She growled. 

“N-no! Of course, he, uh, he wants to… give me my next assignment?” Phoenix guessed. 

“Naturlich. You’d do well to get moving, Wright. You know he is not a forgiving man.” 

“Wait!” Phoenix rushed after her before she could leave just as quickly as she’d come, “Thanks for the warning, of course, but, uh, why the warning?” 

Franziska’s cold eyes looked over him, the barest hint of confusion. Phoenix swallowed nervously. He needed to get himself under control. He was supposed to be a Von Karma or whatever. 

“Little brother, what kind of foolish question is that?” She demanded, almost a whisper.

“It’s, uh… please?” Phoenix wished his had his magatama to fiddle with. As it was, he dug his nails into his hand.

He flinched back as he received a lash from the whip. Franziska wasn’t looking at him anymore. 

“No mercy, Wright. No weaknesses. You’d do well to remember that.” She turned on her heel and left. 

“No mercy, no weakness.” Phoenix repeated to himself. He straightened.

Okay, he could do this.

It was only going into the belly of the beast.

How bad could it be?

Chapter Text

The Chief Prosecutor’s office was in the same place, but Phoenix stood outside of it for some time before entering. As much as people (himself included at times) liked to joke about it, Phoenix was actually capable of taking hints and putting things together. He realized that everything he’d been told about Von Karma since he’d arrived here pointed to the man being in this seat of power, having been able to climb that ladder. Yet, at the same time, Phoenix hoped he was wrong, that he'd open the door and find someone else in there. Who knew, maybe he'd even see Lana Skye inside of there. 

He wondered to himself if that meant Von Karma took on more cases or less. He knew the Chief Prosecutor was a busy position, but Miles still took on cases. Maybe it was better this way, Von Karma not being able to actually appear in court as often. Phoenix quickly dismissed the thought. He had no doubt that there must be something new, with the new title, that Von Karma decided was required for perfection, something he’d be willing to steal or forge to threaten his way to get and/or maintain. 

With one last fortifying breath, Phoenix knocked on the door. 

“Come in.” The deep and gruff voice barely made it through the thick door, but Phoenix still managed to hear it and entered. 

Astonishingly, Von Karma looked almost exactly as Phoenix remembered him. He was a frightening sight, in all honesty, with deep wrinkles and gray-and-white hair that had been pushed back. He wore the same dark blue coat, the color not far from Phoenix’s own. It was like the man had stepped right out of court recordings, right out of haunting nightmares, right out of the pictures from Miles’ ruined childhood he only showed on the rarest of occasions. 

Well, apparently it was Phoenix’s ruined childhood now. 

“Ten days,” Von Karma said, standing up from his desk and clasping his hands behind his back, “Do you have an explanation for this?” 

“I drowned.” Phoenix replied. If he was still a man who had obvious tells, he might have shifted uncomfortably. As it was he very much wanted to, but instead he mimicked Von Karma’s pose and did his best to keep his face blank and passive. A well of anger at this man stirred in his chest, warm coals that had never really died. Well, Phoenix was a pro and having civil conversations with people he hated at this point. 

“‘Drowned’? Hm, yes, that was what I’d heard. And yet, here you are, very much alive. So, a day for a failed drowning, perhaps a day to recuperate if you were truly so weak, which we both know you are, and that leaves eight more days. Eight days, Wright. Do you have an explanation for this?” Phoenix didn’t answer, and Von Karma rounded the desk so that there was nothing between the two of them. 

The last time he’d been this close to Von Karma, he’d been tased. It was not a reassuring thought. 

“Two of those were the weekend.” Phoenix reasoned. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to say, because, well, Von Karma did have a sort of point in that. Despite Phoenix having been missing for that long, he was in pretty good shape. He had found a healing tender spot on the back of his head and a bruise on his stomach, but all the other injuries seemed to have been from the incident itself, like his broken nails and scabs on his fingers from clawing at the shore. Six unaccounted for days. 

“Two days you should’ve used to get started on your next case. It was bad enough that your other one had to be handed off to that disaster of an attorney, Debeste.” Von Karma scoffed. Phoenix looked away. He wondered if, in his same situation, Miles or Franziska would’ve come in over the weekend with the same mentality. He hoped not. 

He registered the sound first.

It was like a crack, like that of Franziska’s whip. He then realized that his cheek hurt, and his head had snapped to the side. Von Karma’s hand was still in the air, palm flat, before returning behind his back. There was a sinister smirk on the man’s mouth now, a sick satisfaction upon his face. 

Phoenix had been through a lot. He’d been tased, whipped to unconsciousness, fallen off a bridge, punched on several occasions, hit by a car, and now nearly drowned. A slap shouldn't have really done anything, and slap shouldn’t have meant anything compared to the rest of it, should've held so much as a candle. And yet the air completely left his lungs, his muscles seized up, and he dug his nails into the palm of his hand as he tried to get some sense of control over himself, forcing himself not to react to it too noticably.  

He didn’t feel scared, per se, but it was like the rest of him hadn’t picked up on that fact and had decided to be terrified. 

“Look at me when I’m speaking to you, Wright,” Von Karma ordered. Phoenix met the monster’s eyes, “I expect you to make up for the absolute embarrassment of the last ten days.” He grabbed a file off his desk and handed it to Phoenix, “Don’t disappoint me.” 

Phoenix felt numb as he left the room. It wasn’t until he was back in his office and sunk down in the chair that he realized he was shaking slightly. He touched his cheek, the spot warm from the blow. It’d just been a slap, it’d been leagues better than the last time Von Karma had attacked him. Hell, he’d gotten whipped by Franziska earlier that morning and it’d hurt worse. The rest of him still hadn’t cottoned onto this. 

He tried to distract himself with the case he’d been given. He flipped through it, eyes glancing over the words and not truly reading them. His head felt heavy and he let it fall to his desk, right on top of the papers he was supposed to be reading. Every second he spent here, in this fun-house mirror world, if felt like a burden on his shoulders was growing bigger and bigger, almost enough to crush him under the weight of it.

How long he was like that, Phoenix wasn’t sure, but he was pulled out of his wallowing by a sharp knock at his door. He lifted his head, pushing his hair back and giving himself a shake.  

“Yeah?” He called out. The door knob turned and in walked Klavier Gavin.

This Klavier didn’t look like the other Klavier, and Phoenix found he actually enjoyed the difference. The similarities, the things that were just shy of normal, were a false sort of comfort, he was starting to realize. This Klavier had his hair pulled back into a french braid. He still dressed just shy of actually professional, but that wasn’t anything new to the Prosecutor’s office. He also wasn’t wearing his normal suit jacket, instead in a black button down, collar flipped up and the last few buttons undone, and the Gavinner ensigna off to either side. It looked sort of familiar, but Phoenix wasn’t entirely sure from where.

“Ach, Herr Vogel, I heard you were back today!” Klavier grinned, slipping inside and closing the door behind him. 

“Yes, I am. I’m feeling better now.” Phoenix said, composing his face back into a sureness he didn’t feel, a smile he was sure didn’t reach his eyes. 

“Gave us all quite the scare! I had to help Debeste translate your notes.” Klavier slapped a file down on Phoenix’s desk, covering up the case Phoenix had been trying and failing to parse through. Phoenix flipped through it. He could see why someone might need help. The more official looking reports ‘Phoenix’ must’ve been working on were written in crisp, perfect cursive. The notes written on the edges of the provided files, however, were in a terrible chicken scratch that he quickly recognized as being his own hand, even a world away. 

“He didn’t finish it up in a week?” Phoenix asked, mostly muttering to himself as he continued to look through the pages. Someone had been killed by a car crash, apparently.

“Oh, no, he did. This is just a copy. I figured you’d be interested in how it went.” Klavier explained. 

“He won.” Phoenix noted, finding a paper with a third hand writing that summed up how court had gone. A guilty verdict. That was a win here, Phoenix made sure to remind himself. That was what they worked for. 

“Ach, ya. Got a bit flustered at first but he found his groove, as well as the truth.” Klavier’s smile now looked a little more genuine. Before now, Phoenix had never spent much time in the Prosecutor’s office, or at least not around prosecutors that weren’t Edgeworth. He wondered if there was the same sense of comradery as his own office held. 

“Good.” Phoenix nodded. 

“I do have to ask, however… what were you up to? Other than taking a dangerous dip into Gourd Lake.” Klavier’s face had an honest kind of curiosity. So honest that Phoenix had to look away. He was still trying to figure out how to go about all this, what ot tell people, but he was already developing an excuse to use if needed. He supposed it wasn’t the kind of answer a ‘Von Karma’ would deem fit and acceptable, but at this point it was all he had to work with. 

“I don’t want to talk about.” Phoenix said, voice flat and cold. He blinked in surprise as Klavier winced, looking away.

“Achtung, of course, sorry. Although, while I’m here, I thought you might like an update on your case.” 

“That’s been bothering me.” Phoenix admitted, leaning back in his chair. Almost without meaning to his eyes darted around Klavier, looking for tells. He might not have been as good as Apollo or Trucy, but he’d also been playing poker for seven years. His streak might’ve been in part due to Trucy, but he still held his own most of the time. “I mean, who are you even prosecuting?” 

“You haven’t heard yet? They found a lead when they found you, and they’ve since made an arrest.” Klavier said and Phoenix knew, instinctually, that something was wrong. 

“That lead… I wouldn’t happen to be a small green gemstone, shaped sort of like a comma?” Phoenix ventured. Klavier nodded.

“Ya, that was it.”

Uh oh.

“They didn’t arrest Maya Fey, did they?” Phoenix closed his eyes, rubbing the bridge of his nose. 

“Ya, they did,” Klavier’s response was slower and a bit more cautious this time, “Why, is that a problem, Herr Vogel?” 

“It’s… mm it’s, god, it’s something, let me tell you,” Phoenix shook his head. Of course, of course Maya was in jail, being tried with attempted murder, because she was Maya and that was what she did, “Have you already talked to her?”

“Not yet, although I doubt she’ll want to talk to me. She’ll either know or suspect I’m prosecuting her case.”

“And you came here asking to me testify against her?” Phoenix sighed. To his surprise, however, Klavier tilted his head side to side, as if weighting Phoenix’s question. 

“Hm, I suppose that would help my case. But I mostly came because I heard you were in again. Your sudden absence was quite the surprise for all of us.” Klavier’s brow furrowed in concern. Phoenix nodded. 

“Right, sorry about that. If that’s all, however, I need to go down to the detention center.” He wasn’t sure exactly what he hoped to for once he got there, but damn was he excited to have a plan about something, even if the plan was just ‘bullshit his way through talking to a Maya that wasn’t his Maya and finding out what she knew’. 

“Ach, if you’re heading down there, I believe the detective on your case wanted to speak with you.” Klavier caught Phoenix’s wrist as he went to walk past him. He still looked confused, but in the same way that every lawyer got confused in the middle of court, trying to figure something out as quickly as possible. Phoenix on his side was trying to figure out if ‘Phoenix’ would’ve snatched his wrist away or not, starting to remember that he needed to be on guard around Klavier. 

Klavier was a good lawyer, a trustworthy one. It also meant that he might just find out something about Phoenix before Phoenix was sure this Klavier was also trustworthy. 

“Who’s the detective?” Phoenix asked, deciding in the end to let Klavier keep his hold on him. 

“Detective Cabanela. He’s a ‘visiting detective’, of sorts.”

That was what Gumshoe had said. Phoenix nodded again. So, somebody ‘Phoenix’ wouldn’t have known. That was a relief, at least. 

“Thank you, Prosecutor Gavin.” Phoenix said and meant it. He moved to continue on, but Klavier was still holding his wrist.

“Herr Vogel,” He said, and Phoenix met his eyes again, “You have been careful, ja?”

“Of course.” Phoenix replied automatically. Klavier searched Phoenix’s face for something before finally letting go and looking away. Phoenix wondered if the man found what he’d been looking for.”

“Of course.”

Chapter Text

Phoenix’s first thought is that he should leave best for last, so he heads over to the Police Station first before realizing that, with everything going on, there’s no real guarantee that his meeting with Maya will be any better than talking to the detective. However, by the time it’d occurred to him, he was already at the station, so there was no point in trying to change what he was doing. 

When he entered the precinct doors, all noise and movement seemed to halt, all eyes turning to stare at him.

“Sir! How are ya?” Gumshoe, bless the man, broke the silence with a grin. Missile shot out like a, well, missile from where he’d been sleeping underneath the detective’s chair to chase circles around Phoenix, barking excitedly and sniffing him.

“Fine, Gumshoe, just here to talk to the detective assigned to my case.” Phoenix replied, and the small conversation between the two seemed to be the necessary component to spur the world back into motion as the general sounds of people working settled back in, eyes turning off of them. Phoenix resisted an audible sigh of relief. Seven years of avoiding being the center of attention didn’t disappear so quickly, it seemed. 

“Oh, are you Phoenix Wright, then?”

A young detective Phoenix didn’t recognize sprang up next to Gumshoe, hands on her hips and looking Phoenix over appraisingly.

“Yes.”

“Good! Saves me the trouble having to go all the way to the Prosecutor’s office to get you! Cabanela was planning to take your statement today. He probably would’ve tried to get it sooner, but that scary lady with the whip wouldn’t let us get close!” The young detective rambled, grabbing Phoenix’s arm and starting to drag him away. 

“Ah, L-Lynne, Prosecutor Wright’s-” Gumshoe said, looking like he was going to try and yank Phoenix away from her. 

“Relax, Dick, it’s not like he has the power to deduct my pay!” Lynne chirped. 

“Still, he’s-”

“It’s fine, Gumshoe.” Phoenix assured the man, letting himself be pulled up the stairs and to the second floor of the building. She stopped in front of a door, opened it, and shoved Phoenix into it. He stumbled, looking around and finding a very plain room that looked similar to an interrogation room. 

“Cabanela will be here in a second, okay?” Lynne grinned and then darted back out just as soon as she’d come. Phoenix took the chance to regain his footing, giving the room a bit better of a look. There was a metal table, bolted to the floor, and two metal chairs. There wasn’t any one-way glass, so it wasn’t technically a room for interrogations, and there was a painting of a woodsy landscape on the wall. It was the only thing interesting in the room, and Phoenix stepped in front of it, admiring it. The color choice was fairly nice, he had to admit. 

There was a knock at the door and he raised his eyebrows. 

“Uh… come in?” 

The door burst open and a man twirled in and then struck a pose. He had a long red scarf around his neck and wore a white over coat with a black button up underneath, the top few buttons undone. Phoenix wondered if he was missing out on some sort of dress code he hadn’t been told about. 

“Prosecutor Phoenix Wright, I presume?” The man asked, giving him a wink. 

“Detective Cabanela, right?” 

“I’m here as a Detective, yes, but it’s actually ‘Inspector Cabanela” The man waltzed over to one of the metal chairs, spinning it around and sitting in it backwards, “How about you take a seat, Prosecutor. I’ve been wanting to talk to you for daaays, man.” His expression was something between a smile and a smirk and Phoeni’s fingers twitched. He’d seen a lot of people with that expression before. He’d played a lot of poker with those people. He’d seen a lot of those people in the courtroom. It didn’t mean anything, per se, other than that this Inspector Cabanela wasn’t something he should underestimate. 

Phoenix took the other metal chair, letting his hands rest on the table. Ah, yes, this felt just like playing poker, didn’t it. He half expected cards to appear on the table. But, of course, this was no Borscht Bowl Club, and this was no game. It was just a man trying to solve a case and believing that Phoenix would be the key, the linchpin, to the entire thing. Phoenix actually felt bad that he wasn’t going to be able to be that, that he was going to be letting this man down.

“Well then, maaan, why don’t we start with what you know. You’re a lawyer, so give me your testimony.” Inspector Cabanela made a little gesture with his hand for Phoenix to speak. 

“I’m afraid I can’t help you,” Phoenix admitted, “Because I can’t tell you about something I myself can’t remember.”

“Oh? Really?” Inspector Cabanela raised his eyebrows. 

“The first thing I can remember is waking up at the bottom of the lake and swimming out.” Phoenix said honestly. 

“But nothing about the week leading up to that?” Inspector Cabanela pressed. 

“No.” 

“So you’re going to go the amnesia route, huh?” 

“I’m telling you what I know, Inspector. I’m being as helpful as I can be.” Phoenix insisted. Inspector Cabanela stared Phoenix in the eyes, and he returned the gesture in kind. They did that for about a minute before Cabanela sighed, shaking his head. 

“So it would seem, so it would seem. I’ve gooot to say, I was hoping you’d be able to give me something more to work with. After all, I hated having to take that little lady in. Something about this doesn’t sit right with me, and my team agrees.” Inspector Cabanela sighed, folding his arms and resting them on the back of the chair. 

“What makes you think it wasn’t Maya?” Phoenix sat up a little straighter, reminded again that he wasn’t supposed to be against the man. 

“Girl just doesn’t strike me as the type,” He said, as if that decided the entire thing, “Jowd and Lynn agree.” He added, the two testimonies apparently securing the finality of his belief. Phoenix knew what that felt like. Perhaps it should’ve made him hesitate, made him more wary, but instead he found himself nodding.

“I wish there was something more I could offer. I know it wasn’t Ma- Ms. Fey.” Phoenix said.

“Do you now?” A smart glint was in the Inspector’s eye, attention once again caught.

“She wouldn’t murder anyone.” Phoenix insisted. It occurred to him, as a fleeting thought and nothing more, that maybe he couldn’t say that for sure here, and then dismissed the idea with utmost harshness. No such thing as a Maya who was a murderer. 

“You know, you’re well known around the precinct. As is Ms. Fey. Of coooourse I asked around about you, and you know what’s a pretty clear fact? That you don’t care much for the members of Edgeworth & Fey Law Offices.” Inspector Cabanela pressed, seemingly almost more about curiosity now. 

“T-the law and the truth are what matter, not personal feelings.” Phoenix looked back at the picture on the wall. Inspector Cabanela threw back his head and gave a laugh that started Phoenix. 

“So that’s all you’re going to give me, my man?” He said.

“If I remember anything, Inspector, you’ll be the first to know.” Phoenix promised, “Are we done here, then? I’m a busy man.” Or at least he was supposed to be a busy man, which was basically the same thing. 

“Baby, we’re faaaar from done, but I guess I’ll let a busy man like you get back to putting people behind bars.” Inspector Cabanela stood up and waltzed to the door, opening it up for Phoenix. As he passed by, the Inspector took a card out from his coat, holding it out to Phoenix, “Call me if you have any breakthroughs, yeah?”

“I will.” Phoenix nodded. 

Cabanela left the room as well, but lucky for Phoenix the man headed down the hall in the opposite direction and they didn’t have to awkwardly walk side by side to the stairs. The main room of the precinct went quiet again when he came into view and he rushed to the detention center, doing his best not to look like he was actively running away from all the people watching and staring at him. 

The detention center was wonderfully cold and clinical as ever. The woman manning the main desk looked bored out of her mind, doodling something on a piece of paper and barely looking up when Phoenix approached. Eventually, she did look up, and then dramatically filled her eyes, sighing loudly.

“What can I help you with, Prosecutor Wright?” She droned. 

“I’d like to meet with Maya Fey.” 

“I’ll let her know. Please have a seat.” She said. 

Phoenix sat down in one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs. He swore they made them terrible on purpose. He let himself reach up and fiddle with the badge on his lapel, the odd sharp angles foreign under his fingertips but at least some kind of distraction. He supposed it was possible that Maya wouldn’t agree to meet with him. Cabanela had said that apparently ‘Phoenix’ harbored some bad blood against Miles and Maya. He couldn’t imagine how or why, but there were a lot of blatant things about this life he was put in that he just couldn’t understand. 

“Prosecutor Wright, if you’ll head to room 3, Ms. Fey will meet you there.” The reception woman informed him.

“Thanks.” He nodded to her, a rush of relief that yes he was here and he was going to see Maya, and Maya was going to be okay. Really, this was such a small charge, not even an actual murder! And there was no way she was actually the reason he’d been at the bottom of Gourd lake. 

Maya was brought in soon after he got there and he blinked in surprise. Most of her hair was pulled back into a high ponytail, with the exception being her bangs and the two strands that framed her face. She was in a cardigan, dark jeans, and a plain but cozy looking shirt underneath. Phoenix blinked in surprise. It wasn’t like Maya didn’t own more casual clothes, but she so rarely seemed to leave Kurain these days, and usually only for passing and brief trips, that usually she just stayed in her acolyte uniform. She did still have her magatama necklace on, two beads on either side of the charm.

“Well if it isn’t Mr. Prosecutor Phoenix Wright himself.” She said, turning up her nose and folding her arms. “Come to tell me how you’re going to get me the death penalty? That I shouldn’t even bother calling Miles because you as the prosecution this case is as good as closed? I can and will rub in all the time he’s beat you, you know.” 

“You’re innocent,” Phoenix blurted out, surprising both himself and Maya. He’d meant for this conversation to go, well, he wasn’t sure how he’d wanted it to go but he definitely hadn’t accounted on how quickly his facade had crumbled around her, especially when she seemed to be putting on her own facade of hate and contempt. Even knowing it was little more than her own mask, her own poker face, it still made his heart clench for it to be put up against him, “You didn’t do it.”

“What happened to that ‘I will get every single person I can charged with the worst possible charge’ thing you had going?” Maya asked, the fake-venom replaced my honest confusion. 

“You didn’t do it, you shouldn’t even be in here,” Was all Phoenix seemed to be able to say, “And I’m not your prosecution anyway.”

“Oh. Huh. Weird, I always thought Von Karma gave you cases where I was being charged with something just because you always seemed upset about it.” 

“Well, I think the whole ‘working as your own lawyer’ thing only extends to being your own defense, not prosecuting a personal matter.” This was not something Phoenix really knew for sure. In all honesty, the courts seemed to look the other way whenever things that were a little too personal and should’ve been more formally and professionally approached simply weren’t. 

“Personal?” She repeated.

“Didn’t they tell you what you were being taken in for?”

“Yeah, for somebody nearly drowning… oh my god, was it your sister?!” Maya gasped. 

“No, it was me.” Phoenix said and Maya gasped again. 

“Are you okay?! Oh my god, they said they found the victim only a few days ago, are you even okay to be working right now?” Maya demanded.

“I’m fine, really. You know me, I can bounce back from anything. I’m more worried about you. Do you have an alibi?” Phoenix leaned closer to the glass pane between them. 

“I wish. I was manning the office most of the day while Miles was off investigating a crime scene, and then I went home. Miles already grilled me for every detail of my day, and he didn’t find anything, so I doubt you will… why are you trying to find anything?” Maya looked at him, head tilting curiously to the side. Phoenix jumped back from the glass as if it. For a second, it’d just been him talking to one of his oldest friends besides Miles and Larry, and now he was reminded that that was not, in fact, what was going on. 

“W-why do I do anything?” Phoenix deflected. 

“Usually because you seem to hate Miles, Mia, and me. Or maybe just people in general, but especially us.” Maya replied a little too quickly and easily for Phoenix’s liking. 

“It doesn’t matter. What matters is that the prosecution’s case is going to be weak. If Mi- if Edge- if Defense Attorney Miles Edgeworth is any good, he should be able to get you out. As far as I can tell, their main piece of evidence is flimsy at best.” He told her, staring at the security camera as he tried to quickly figure out what the hell he probably called Miles here. 

“You seem to be feeling charitable with information today,” Maya observed, “What’s the evidence?”

“A green charm shaped like the one around your neck.” He nodded to her magatama. 

“A magatama?” 

“Found at the scene of the crime, and the only thing they had to go off of.” The problem was that as flimsy evidence as it was, Phoenix knew (and he imagined Maya did as well) that a good prosecutor could make a good case out of it. After all, the Feys were the only people who ever seemed to carry such charms around with them. And of course there was the issue of Not Guilty verdicts being so hard to come by without pinning the blame on someone else. 

“Well, I guess I can see why they might think a little bit it was me, but still.” Maya stuck her tongue out as if to say that actually, no, she still didn’t, but she also realized that her understanding had no effect on the case. “Ugh, why can’t it be Miles who gets accused of murder for once?”

“Not murder, attempted murder.” Phoenix remineded her. She waved a dismissive hand at him.

“Yeah yeah, whatever. You have no idea how uncomfortable it is in here, Wright!” She groaned and leaned back in her chair. “Anyway, why are you here again?”

“Oh. That. Yes. I came here… to tell you I thought you were innocent?” Phoenix admitted, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. Maya’s brow furrowed.

“Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”

“I’m fine, just… nothing, nevermind, have a good day, Maya.” Phoenix clumsily excused himself from the conversation, giving her something between a cordial nod and a bow as well as putting his hand out for her to shake, which was completely useless considering the glass, and then rushed out the door like his life depended on it. 

On just the other side of the wall he let himself take a deep breath. He always hated seeing maya in the detention center, that fear that this would be the time he didn’t manage to get her out plaguing him through the entire case. And this time, there really wasn’t anything he could do. She was at the mercy of Miles and Klavier. There was a worse duo to have in court, he supposed, but it was still court. 

“She’ll be fine. She’s innocent. If anybody can prove that, it’s them.” Phoenix reminded himself forcefully. He had a job to get back to, he couldn’t spend his whole time worrying over her. 

As he neared the main room of the detention center again, he heard the reception lady drone,

“I’m sorry, sir, but she’s already meeting with someone. You’re not allowed back there until her current visitor is done.”

“Who’s meeting with Maya?”

Phoenix recognized the voice immediately, but it was an entire other thing to see the trenchcoated man turn away from the receptionist and see Miles Edgeworth looking at him.

Chapter Text

It’s weird, because it actually took Phoenix half a second to really, truly recognize Miles Edgeworth. 

His voice is still unmistakably Miles Edgeworth, and yet the faint hint of German that had always colored his speech and sat oddly upon certain letters and words, something that had always felt so uniquely Miles, was completely and utterly absent. His hair was in the same style, but he was wearing glasses, a detail of his appearance Phoenix knew his own Miles had been starting to relent on recently but had yet to give up the fight completely just yet. And maybe most jarringly of all, he wasn’t in his usual maroon suit. Instead, the man that was Miles Edgeworth was wearing a tan trenchcoat, his signature maroon contained simply and succinctly in the bowtie on his throat. 

That trenchcoat… Phoenix could remember going to Miles house when they were so young. Mr. Edgeworth had been working in his office, his coat hung up by the door, and Phoenix had put it on, almost drowning in the tan fabric. Miles had been worried about his dad getting upset, but when Phoenix had unpinned the attorney badge from the lapel and held it out to him, Miles had clipped it to his own shirt with wide and awe-filled eyes, handling it gently as if it would shatter. Mr. Edgeworth had found them like that and had grinned like the sun, ruffling their hair. 

“Looks like my office has two more lawyers!”

The trenchcoat suited Miles. It looked right on him, as did the little gold pin that sat there. It was the Miles that had existed in conversations under the shade of trees, while kicking a ball around with Larry, sitting at the table while Mr. Edgeworth cut their pb&j’s into triangles. Miles Edgeworth, defense attorney.

“Wright.”

The name was said with clear disdain, dripping with malice, and Phoenix was brought back to his current reality. The glasses really worked to make Miles’ glare look sharper. Miles hands, which had been gesturing to the receptionist, were shoved roughly into the pockets of his trenchcoat.

“Defense Attorney Miles Edgeworth.” Phoenix kept his voice flat as he said the long title. Maya hadn’t seemed to think it was weird. Miles expression didn’t change at all. 

“You should be alright to go in and see Ms. Fey now.” The receptionist informed Miles, nodding over to Phoenix. Shock colored his expression before becoming furious again. Miles strode right up to Phoenix and grabbed the front of his jacket.

“What’d you do?! Were you threatening her?!” Miles demanded.

“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to unhand Prosecutor Wright.” The receptionist said. Miles did with clear reluctance. 

“I was just asking her some questions.” Phoenix said. Miles didn’t look like he believed that for a second, 

“I guess I’ll be seeing you in court tomorrow.” Miles huffed, and it almost sounded like a growl. 

“I’m not prosecuting her case.” This seemed to surprise Miles just as much as it had Maya. 

“You’re… not? Then why were you here?” His anger had been set aside as he puzzled through the mystery before him. Phoenix wasn’t too excited to be that mystery. 

“I was just checking some facts. You know how it is.” Phoenix said evasively. 

“If you’re not prosecuting…?” Miles seemed to still be hung up on the fact. There was no way they went up against each other exclusively, was there? After a moment he decided that there absolutely wasn’t, but so many people did think he held some kind of hate for Edgeworth & Fey Law Offices he supposed it was possible it was justs expected he’d jump for the opportunity to get one of them convicted of something. 

“Prosecutor Gavin was given the case. If you’re looking to try and get more details, you’ll have more luck with him.” 

“But then why are you here?” Miles pressed. Phoenix shiffted from foot to foot and then decided, fuck it.

“Maya is being accused of attempted-murderer. I’m the person she supposedly attempted to murder.” 

“What?!” Miles shouted and the receptionist shushed him.

“I, unfortunately, have no memories of what happened before the incident,” Phoenix grit his teeth as he kept the same story. Amnesia was, realistically, the very best excuse he could have given the circumstances, and yet he still wished he’d found a different one. He wished he had something that would get Maya free, “If you’re so interested in what we spoke about, you can ask her yourself. And… good luck on the case.” 

Phoenix brushed right by Miles, not turning to look back and see what Miles reaction might’ve been. He had things he needed to be doing, a job. He reached up to adjusted his beanie, a nervous tell (he had so many, so many now that he knew how to look for them, and every time he tried to stop one another would crop up), and was frustrated when he just found his bare head.

Get through today. He just needed to get through today, his first day ‘back’ at the Prosecutor’s Office, and then things would be better, smoother, from there on out. 

He told himself that lie the entire way back.

oOo

The case he’d been given was simple enough. He couldn’t hold back his surprise. It was straight forward looking: a man had robbed a convenience store and shot the cashier. Phoenix got Gumshoe to drive him to the crime scene, and he spent most of the day reviewing the recording from the murder and going over the evidence, doing everything in his power to confirm it really was as clear as it appeared. He felt like the idea of convicting the suspect shouldn’t have sat so easily in his stomach, and yet he felt his resolve grow every time he saw the bullet claiming the victim’s life. It probably helped that this wasn’t a case he’d usually take. He wouldn’t have trusted this client, so he never would've been on the other side of the court in this case. 

“Herr Vogel,”

Phoenix rubbed his eyes and looked up to find Klavier standing in the doorway to his office once more. A glance to the clock confirmed that it was already eight and he rolled his shoulders. He’d been trying to figure out how to fill out the paperwork correctly, with some success. There was paperwork from previous cases all around, and he was using them as templates and guides of sorts. 

“Prosecutor Gavin,” Phoenix greeted, “You’re still here?”

“Ach, ya. Somebody needs to give you a ride home.” Klavier grinned, and it was a grin Phoenix was sure would’ve made his fans swoon, but Phoenix saw it for the act and flair it was supposed to be. 

“Gumshoe- dammit, I didn’t even think about how late I’ve been keeping Gumshoe!” Phoenix stood up abruptly, guilt sweeping through him. He’d already been asking far too much of the man, and he’d probably continue to keep asking a lot as he tried to figure out how to get back home. 

“Don’t worry, I sent Herr Detective home hours ago.” Klavier assured him, the grin still in place. It didn’t look forced, in fact it almost looked soft and kind. An act, though, nonetheless, Phoenix was sure of it. 

“That’s- the busses and trains should still be running for a couple hours, I can make it home on my own.” Phoenix said, starting to sit back down. He‘d wanted to at least finish this stack first. 

“It’s not a problem. You shouldn’t be overworking yourself so soon after your incident. Let me give you a ride home, bitte.” Klavier insisted. Phoenix paused and gave Klavier a more thorough look over. He’d wished often over the years to have Trucy’s talent to know with a look that somebody was hiding something and be able to use a simple little tell to piece together the right way to proceed. 

“... alright.” Phoenix finally agreed. 

Klavier leaned against the doorframe, watching Phoenix shuffled all his papers and documents into a pile and put them into his briefcase. 

The office was just as quiet and it’d been when he’d arrived, if a little less empty. A couple other people seemed to be working late, and some of the janitorial staff walked very quickly past them, heads ducked as if they were trying not to be seen by Phoenix at all. Klavier greeted them all by name and they responded with equal enthusiasm while also completely avoiding looking at Phoenix. 

One of them, though, stopped them, and, after looking down the hall carefully, handed Phoenix a simple ‘get better soon’ card, offering a small smile. 

A puzzle, to be sure, and not one Phoenix was in the mood to try and deal with tonight. 

He wasn’t surprised to find Klavier leading Phoenix to his motorcycle, and he tossed the helmet over to Phoenix with barely a look over. Phoenix put the helmet on and them cimbed on behind Klavier. Klavier revved the engine.

“Hold on, Herr Vogel.” He said, and Phoenix instinctively reached forward and held onto Klavier’s waist. He then flinched a bit, thinking he should let go, and then decided he valued his safety more than his pride here. 

He remembered the first time Mia had taken him for a ride on her bike. He’d grabbed onto her and then let go, reeling backwards and letting out a litany of ‘sorry, sorry, I’m sorry’ that had made Mia throw back her head and laugh. She’d told him he should just make sure he didn’t fall off and he was fine to hold her if it made him feel safer. As Klavier drove down the LA streets, engine roaring, weaving around traffic, Phoenix closed his eyes and let himself pretend for a moment he was back then again. 

Mia was out there somewhere. Did she still have her bike in this world? Did she still ride it? Would there be any possible way he could convince her to let him ride it with her just for his own nostalgia, just to get another taste of those couple years when they’d worked together? She’d driven him to Grossberg’s office after his trial, saying she wasn’t afraid of catching his cold, and the helmet had hid his red-rimmed and puffy eyes as he continued to cry even more. 

The engine cut off and Phoenix opened his eyes back up. Back to this reality.

“Ach, we’re here.” 

Phoenix took off his helmet and looked at the house. It was little more than somewhere he was going to sleep, a base of operation throughout this, he shouldn't let it matter so much to him that it wasn’t his home. How funny, that he was more upset over this than doing his job as a prosecutor today.

Klavier was already halfway to the front door. 

Phoenix hurried to catch up. Klavier pulled out his keyring at the door, flipping through it and then unlocking Phoenix’s front door for him. He looked back at Phoenix with that stage smile. 

They entered the house and without hesitation, Klavier headed up stairs. Phoenix followed after him, grip tightening on the handle of his briefcase. 

“Prosecutor Gavin-”

“Just a moment, ja?” Klavier said, all-but running into Phoenix’s closet. When Phoenix didn’t immediately follow after, Klavier gestured for him to follow him.

Well… Phoenix sure hoped this wasn’t what it looked like it might be.

He set his briefcase down on the bed and went into his closet.

Klavier was rummaging around, flicking through the shirts and the jackets, opening and closing drawers, until he seemed satisfied. 

“Alright,” Klavier set out a long breath and then faced Phoenix, folding his arms. The smile was gone finally, and the serious expression made the similarities to Klavier sharper than ever, “Herr Vogel, talk to me.”

“... what?” Phoenix looked around him, back at Klavier, trying to figure out where this was all going. 

“I’m an adult, you can give it to me straight. Are you still in?” 

“Am I… still in.” Phoenix repeated

“I understand if you don’t want to tell me what happened at the lake. That’s fine. But I need to know if I’m now on my own in this investigation against Kristoph or not.”

Chapter Text

Kristoph’s name feels like it’s ringing in Phoenix’s head. His blood froze as the same slipped out of Klavier’s mouth. 

“I know you still have Frau Prosecutor you worry about, so I’d understand if you worry this threat will go after her next, and that It may be related to our investigation.” Klavier went on.

“Kristoph.” Phoenix said. Just forming the word in his own mouth seemed to bring with it the taste of cold borscht and grape juice. With all of Klavier's hair pulled back like it was, he didn’t look entirely like his brother, but against his own will Phoenix’s eyes spotted those unmistakable similarities. Phoenix stuffed his hands into the pockets of his weird long suit jacket. “We were investigating Kristoph.”

“... ja …” Klavier said with a note of caution. He reached up and adjusted the sunglasses that were set on top of his head. 

Phoenix gave the closest another look. His heart felt like it was beating stronger. There was a sickly familiar sensation swooping through his stomach that he couldn’t quite put a name to. 

“Have you ever been going through your old clothes drawer and found dead little bugs?” Phoenix mentioned in his most casual tone, “I always find they tend to cling whether there’s all that cluttered fabric, and it’s impossible to be sure they’re gone entirely. Come on, why don’t we talk in the back.” 

Klavier caught on quickly.

“ Ach , stuffy in here too.” 

The backyard of the house is far too big for a house that had only one person living in it. He and Klavier both scour every inch of the back porch for bugs and come back clean. Phoenix had learned early on that it was just easiest to talk shop outside of his house, the constant paranoia of being bugged never fading. 

Ah. That was the word for this feeling. 

Paranoia. 

Well, is it really paranoia if someone was actually out to get you? 

“Has he bugged the house before?” Phoenix asked, leaning against the railing, hands still in his pockets.

“... why are you asking?” Klavier folded his arms. 

Well. Why not? He’d already told two people, not much of a secret at this point. 

“I can’t remember how I got in that lake, you know.” Phoenix looked at the house text to them. The side was just as bland and as boring as the exterior of this one. Enough money to own a house in LA and totally wasted it on being boring. 

“Inspector Cabanela told me as much.” Klavier admitted. Phoenix stroked his chin, half expecting to find his mess of stubble there. How did the saying go? In for a penny, in for a pound? Well, maybe he could do half a pound.

“We’ve been investigating Kristoph. For a while now, presumably. You don’t trust your own brother? You’d betray him in order to find the truth behind him?” Phoenix asked. 

“You haven’t doubted me in a while, Herr Vogel .” Klavier gave him a wry smile. 

“I’m trying to get a read from you. You know, you can learn a lot about a person playing poker. If the situation was any different, maybe I’d offer a round.” Phoenix shrugged. 

“As if I haven’t already learned better than to try my luck against that of the Turnabout Terror.” Klavier chuckled, but it was like that smile he’d had before, all for show, all an act as he played along. 

“See, I’m in a bit of a situation here. Tell me, Prosecutor Gavin: what would you do if you had no memory?” 

“... ah.” 

“Mm, yes, ‘ah’. I’m not completely drowning over here. I know some things. I know how to be a lawyer still, for the most part. I know most people’s names. I definitely have a general, let’s call it instinct, of what sort of people they are. But most of the other details? Might as well have left them in that lake, it seems.” Phoenix sighed, letting his head fall backwards and stare up at the sky. No stars in LA, but he tried to find Orion’s belt anyway. It was usually strong enough to put up a good fight at being seen through the light pollution. 

“ Achtung , so I am on my own then.” Klavier’s smirk had fallen into a grimace by the time Phoenix finally settled his head to look at the prosecutor again. 

“Counting me out a little early there.” Phoenix said and that seemed to catch Klavier somehow by more surprise than the whole amnesia thing. 

“ Herr Vogel -”

“Listen, Klavier, I might not know all the details behind this case, we’ve apparently been working on, but I know that Kristoph is bad news. I can’t promise I’ll be exactly what you think I am, but I’m not going to just leave you out to dry just because I took a bit of a spill myself.” Phoenix assured the prosecutor. That fake smile was back, but it trembled on Klavier’s mouth, a moment away from falling apart again. 

“ Danke, Herr Vogel, das ist sehr nett. But I couldn’t ask that of you in your current state. Surely you don’t think me as the type of man to just dumb these kind of worries onto someone going through enough on their own?” Klavier winked at Phoenix, like this was just some sort of inside joke he wasn’t sharing with him and not a case against Kristoph Fucking Gavin. 

“Klavier, you trust me, don’t you?” He waited until Klavier slowly nodded,

“Ja, I trust Phoenix Wright-”

“And I’m still Phoenix Wright. You’re not going to be going to be working against him alone.” Phoenix promised. Klavier let out a huff of laughter shaking his head. 

“You know? You said something quite similar when I first confronted you about this some four years ago.” Klavier told him. “We both have trials tomorrow. After them, we’ll find somewhere that we can catch up.”

“It’s a deal.” Phoenix nodded, and then paused, “Actually, if you’re already over here… do you think you could help me with the paperwork for my trial tomorrow?” 

And this, this actually did get a real laugh out of Klavier.

“The paperwork, Mein Gott, I hadn’t even thought about all the minute details!” His laugh petered out into a chuckle, “Ja, I can help you with the paperwork. But you do know how to still do the rest of your job? I won’t have to dramatically burst into the courtroom tomorrow?” 

“I should be fine, don’t worry about it.” Phoenix assured him. 

“If you say so, Herr Vogel.” 

oOo

Klavier ended up staying the night. He’d already moved to sleep on one of the immaculate couches Phoenix apparently owned, saying it was what he usually did if he ever stay the night, but Phoenix insisted on Klavier sleeping in the huge bed. It was nice and comfy and soft, too soft, and Phoenix had hoped the couch would be better. It was, in that it was definitely a bit stiffer than the bed, but like the bed he kept thinking back to the one that was actually his. He’d slept on the couch in the Wright Anything Agency countless times - including a short time when he and Trucy had been actively living in there. He knew he needed to really buckle down and stop comparing here to home, but right then, lying on the couch, he found his mind wandering. 

He knew he needed to deal with his current situation, but he wondered where Trucy was. He clutched a pillow close to his chest and barely managed to sleep as he kept seeing Trucy, completely and utterly unrealistically, taken in by Manfred von Karma himself and forced to go through the same shitty childhood that had wrecked Miles and Franziska. 

In the morning the two of them ransacked Phoenix’s fridge and cupboards for anything edible. Phoenix found some eggs and made up some omelets for them while Klavier gave his case file another look through. 

“Have you found anything pointing to the real culprit?” Phoenix asked. 

“There’s unfortunately not much to go on. You were reported missing from work Monday and found Friday evening. Your only physical wounds seemed to be a blow to the head and stomach, as well as some possible chaffing around your wrists. The injuries to your hands have been ruled out on the basis that they must’ve been from when you were crawling out of the lake. The only thing odd about your appearance was the green gem that pointed us towards Maya Fey and the rope around your ankle, which doesn’t do us any good either,” Klavier said, flipping through the few sparse pages as if doing so would make more evidence appear, “I only wish it was as cut and dry as your case is.” 

“Well it’s certainly an easy one to get my feet wet again - only metaphorically, of course - and I’ll admit, I’m surprised that Von Karma gave me such a simple one.” Phoenix glanced back at his own case file. After all that paperwork they did last night, Klavier was as familiar with it as Phoenix was. It was so cut and dry, he hadn’t even had to go to a crime scene before the trial.

“Good to know the Chief Prosecutor’s personality transcends memory,” Klavier chuckled, “I imagine even he wouldn’t be so vindictive as to purposefully sabotage one of his best prosecutors after such a traumatizing event.” 

“Mm.” Phoenix grunted noncommittally. It was possible, he supposed, especially if Von Karma now viewed the rest of the prosecutor’s (or at least some) as being a part of his perfection. 

Klavier had laughed again when Phoenix had admitted he didn’t remember how to drive, driving them to the courthouse and then fixing Phoenix’s cravat before they entered. 

“Are you sure you don’t want me to stand co-council? You don’t typically have one, so if you’re trying to keep your whole memory situation between just you, me, and Inspector Cabanela, that may seem odd. It’d be less strange than you not know what you were doing in there.” Klavier offered.

“You have your own trial.” Phoenix reminded him.

“Achtung, ja, but it doesn’t start for a while.” Klavier assured him. Phoenix considered it but then ultimately dismissed it. 

“No, I can handle myself. If I have trouble, I’ll just call a recess and come ask you for help.” 

This seemed to satisfy Klavier and he nodded. A few press tried to get statements from them on their way to the courtroom but they both experty brushed them off. The press was usually more persistent as you were going out of the courthouse anyway.

He almost walked to the wrong side of the courtroom as he entered. The judge presiding over was the one with the blonde beard he never bothered to learn the name of. 

“The court is now in session for the trial of Robbie Armed.” The judge declared. Phoenix straightened tugged at his jacket, flicking his Prosecutor badge with his finger. 

“The D- Prosecution is ready.” Phoenix said.

“The Defense is ready, your honor.” The defense lawyer, a man with thick curly brown hair underneath a black hat, answered as well. Phoenix knew he’d probably seen him somewhere before, but it wasn’t as if there was a defense attorney office to keep in contact with other lawyers, and Phoenix wasn’t known for being great with faces and names. 

“Mr. Wright, please give us your opening statement.” The Judge instructed. 

Klavier had read over Phoenix’s opening statement the night before and approved it, but now, looking down at it, Phoenix had a moment of clarity, of realization. He really was the prosecution here, wasn’t he? Would his tactics and habits even work? It’d been so long since he’d been in a courtroom, the time with Apollo during his own murder trial nowithstanding. He didn’t know how to be a prosecutor, not in the little ways that mattered. 

But… 

But Phoenix did know how to act, how to pretend to be someone else. How to cover his tells and bluff and bury all his feelings. He’d spent seven years putting on a show with almost the entire world as his audience. It’d been so convincing, he’d believed it himself, hadn’t he? That that really was to an extent the man he’d become? 

Phoenix wanted to scream, wanted to shout, wanted to fling the case file at somebody. That time of his life was supposed to finally be over, he was supposed to be Phoenix Wright, Man Studying to Re-Sit the Bar. Phoenix Wright, Man Trying to Find Out Who He Is Now. Not Phoenix Wright, Poker Player, Enigma, Shady Guy, Man Afraid to Let Anyone Get Close. 

Phoenix slipped his hands into his pockets and gave a self-assured smirk, shoving his feeling down. 

“Thanks, your honor. The defendant, Mr. Robbie Armed…”

oOo

Just as he'd thought, the trial went smoothly. The defense worked marvelously with him, not that there was much to uncover. Phoenix even swung by the Defense lobby afterwards and thanked him for his work.

"I knew he was guilty, but if someone comes asking for help, I'm not going to just deny them. The systems needs to work for everyone or it works for no one, so everyone deserves to be represented," The lawyer said. Phoenix nodded. He had never run on that principal, always believing the trust between a client and lawyer to be the most important part, but he could certainly understand and appreciate the other's maxim. After a moment's consideration, the lawyer added, "You did well yourself in there."

"Thanks." Phoenix nodded. 

Klavier was nowhere to be found, so Maya's trial must have started. Phoenix walked over the prosecutor's lobby of the courtroom Klavier had said he'd be in. Klaier hadn't even asked if Phoenix wanted to be called as a witness. He found himself staring at the courtroom door, wondering what was going on in there. It simply wasn't fair that Maya might be found guilty of something she coudn't have done. The only proof they had tying her to the scene at all was Phoenix's own magatama...

Wait...

If all they did have was the magatama...

Phoenix knocked loudly on the courtroom door. 

Chapter Text

“Sir, court is in se- P-P-Prosecutor Wright!” 

There were certainly advantages to being a feared and respected prosecutor, Phoenix had to admit, as the bailiff who had almost stopped him suddenly reeled back, hesitating. Phoenix didn’t let the chance go to waste, bursting into the courtroom. 

From one side of the room, Miles was staring at him with wide and open surprise. From the other side, Klavier had his head tilted as he regarded Phoenix with more curiosity than anything, although perhaps it was just Phoenix pretending to see it, but he swore there was a hint of almost panic under there. And from the witness stand stood Maya herself, who smiled at him. She sent a look over to Miles that was completely missed by the defense attorney as he was still staring at Phoenix. 

“Prosecutor Wright, I understand that this case it very close to you, but we are in the middle of court right now!” The judge chided. 

“This trial can’t go on!” Phoenix declared and then pointed to Maya, “You have no evidence whatsoever that Ms. Fey was at the scene of the crime, much less connected to my drowning!”

“The Prosecution has already provided evidence of exactly that.” The judge’s brow furrowed. 

“Your Honor,” Klavier spoke up, slowly tearing his gaze away from Phoenix, “I’d like to call for a ten minute recess while I discuss with Herr Vogel what this is about.”

“Of course! Please, I’d like to hear what he has to say as well.” The judge easily agreed and banged his gavel down. 

Klavier wasted no time marching over to Phoenix and then pulling him out of the room and to the Prosecution Lobby. Inspector Cabanela followed after them, and Phoenix could feel the eyes of Miles and Maya on him right up until the door closed behind them. Klavier rounded on Phoenix immediately.

“Ach, do you really have proof? How can you have proof? What with your,” Klavier’s eyes cut over to Cabanela, “current issues.” 

“Did you finally remember who killed you? Don’t forget, baby, you told me you’d tell me if anything came to you.” Cabanela had crossed his arms and was leaning against the wall. 

“Not exactly, but they have only one shred of evidence against Maya: the magatama.” Phoenix reminded them. 

“I’ve seen cases built on less,” Klavier said, “You’re talking about the green gem, ja?”  

“Yes. But if we can prove that the magatama isn’t hers, then they have nothing, and Edgeworth can get her a not guilty verdict.” Phoenix explained. 

“A not guilty verdict? Without finding somebody else to receive the guilty one?” Cabanela raised his eyebrows in surprise. 

“I know it’s usually hard to get that, but it’s happened before, like with Edgeworth’s dad, right? There's barely a shred of evidence against Maya, and you won’t be working against this,” Phoenix said and looked over to Klavier. Klavier nodded, but there was a hesitance, “You won’t be, right?”

“Nein, of course not, but I’ll admit I was hopeful that you’d had some greater kind of revelation.” Klavier admitted. Phoenix frowned. 

“Sorry, but in all honesty I’m more concerned about getting Maya out of there than finding my would-be killer right now.” 

“Ja ja, naturlich, I just… I hope when another, better suspect is found, the case will still be recognized as mine.” 

“Alright, that aside Nicky, how are you going to prove the little green thing isn’t Ms. Fey’s? The defense has been arguing that someone was trying to frame her, not that it wasn't hers.” Cabanela asked. Phoenix grinned.

“Oh, that’s the easy part. The magatama is mine.”

“It’s yours?” Klavier repeated, giving Phoenix a subtle but sharp look. 

“Trust me on this one, Klavier, it’s mine,” Phoenix said again, “So I’m just going to go up on that stand, say it’s mine, and then hopefully this’ll be over.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Klavier sighed, “You’ll still need to convince the judge that it’s yours. You may not have much reason to be covering for Frau Geist, but as you’re well aware the judge is not to make any sort of verdict without evidence and proof backing it up.” 

“Proof… I can do that.” Phoenix nodded. 

“Is that all you’re able to give me? If Ms. Fey gets off, my team and I will likely be going back to investigating with even less than we had before.” Cabanela asked. Phoenix shrugged.

“Sorry, Inspector, I promise to help anyway I can, but for now this is all I can do.” Phoenix said. Cabanela laughed.

“Well, can’t hurt a man for trying!” Cabanela grinned and then walked over to a large wall of a man, not unlike Gumshoe, and the red-head woman from the police station.

The recess over with, they walked back into the courtroom. Cabanela went over to where the un-called witnesses sat while Phoenix just stood next to Klavier until he was officially called up to the stand. Across from them, Miles and Maya reentered as well. Oddly enough, it seemed Maya, despite being the defendant, was allowed to stand behind the defense bench as well. Their lips were moving as they said something too quietly for Phoenix to hear. From the gallery above them, the same lawyer Phoenix had been set against during his earlier case leaned over and said something to Miles. Miles’ face, already scrunched up in thought, became even more scrunched up and looked over at Phoenix - and became aware that he was being watched. He said something else quickly and the curly-haired attorney sat down in his seat while Miles fixed Phoenix with a rather cold look, but not entirely a glare. 

“Court is back in session!” The judge declared, banging his gavel for good measure, “Prosecutor Wright, you claimed you’d be able to prove that Maya Fey wasn’t at the scene of the crime. Would you please take the stand?” 

“Of course.” Phoenix said, slipping his hands into his pocket and heading behind the witness stand. 

“Name and profession?” Klavier asked.

“Phoenix Wright, Pi-Prosecutor.”

“And now, bitte, tell us why Maya Fey shouldn’t be our suspect.” Klavier nodded to Phoenix.

“It’s easy, really. All you have tying Maya to the scene is the magatama, and that magatama is actually mine,” The gallery erupted into whispers and murmurders. Phoenix looked again over to Maya and Miles, their heads bent together as they spoke quickly to each other. Phoenix cleared his throat and went on, “I didn’t think to mention it before, planning to just wait long enough for the evidence to be released in order to get it back. However, seeing as it's been mistaken as proof of Maya’s involvement in what happened to me, I need to set things straight.” 

“My, that is quite the claim there,” The judge blinked, “I’m rather skeptical about your claim, however. The Fey’s have been in my court many times, and I’ve seen them wearing necklaces with objects just like the one you’re claiming is your own.” 

“Fraulein Geist, perhaps you could give us some more information on these, I believe Herr Vogel referred to them as magatamas?” Klavier asked. He held up the plastic bag with the magatama from where the evidence was sitting on his desk. Maya nodded, a hand on her own magatama. 

“The magatama are worn by everybody in my village. They’re considered a symbol of our connection to the spiritual world. There are some other uses for them, but I don’t feel it’s my place to say those without speaking with the Master of Kurain first. It's been something I’ve been considering adding to my proposed uses of the Kurain channeling technique in court trials and testimonies.” Maya said, and at her mention of the Kurain channeling technique Klavier, Miles, and the judge all nodded along. 

“I see, I see. So would it be easy for someone to acquire a magatama?” The judge asked. Maya looked down. 

“No, it wouldn’t be. They’re typically only given to someone an acolyte trusts. I do appreciate Prosecutor Wright trying to help, but that green magatama-” 

“My magatama was given to me by an old friend of mine,” Phoenix spoke up, “It’s very dear to me, and I’m here because I want it back.” He shifted his head in a way that, if he was still wearing his beanie, it would’ve served to shade his eyes from view. As it was, he just meant he was looking over at the defense. 

“But..!” Maya started but Miles set a hand on her shoulder and she stopped.

“Herr Vogel, you said you could prove that it is yours.” Klavier reminded him. 

“Of course. Prosecutor Gavin, if you could give the magatama to the judge?” Phoenix waited until the gem had exchanged hands before continuing, “Like I said, the magatama used to belong to a good friend of mine, but before that it belonged to a different friend. She had a motorcycle, and she got into a crash once that left her in the hospital. She asked me to go to the scene of the crash and see if I could find the magatama as soon as she realized she didn’t have it. I found it, but if you look you can see there’s an almost hairline fracture in the middle of the curved part that she told me hadn’t been there before.” Phoenix recalled. 

It had been more like Mia had begged him to find it, crying and sobbing in her panic of not being able to find it in her pile of belongings, pretty high at the moment with the pain medication. He’d been working with her for about a year at that point, and when he’d successfully returned with the magatama she’d started sobbing again and told him she owed him her life. Years later, Maya gave the same magatama to him, recognizable by that fracture. 

“Let me see… oh, yes! I can see that! Why, how unfortunate that it seems this has been one terrible misunderstanding here.” The judge handed the magatama back over to Klavier. Maya and Miles were fervently whispering back and forth to each other, and at one point Maya actually hit the table with her fist. “Defense, is there anything you wish to add?” Maya opened her mouth, but Miles slapped his hand over her mouth as he declared,

“No, your honor. No further questions, we find no fault with the witness’s statement.” Miles snatched his hand away from Maya’s mouth a moment later and wiped it on his trenchcoat. 

“Well, with this revelation, I feel I can easily declare that Ms. Maya Fey is not guilty. However, that still leaves the question of who is responsible for the near-drowning of Prosecutor Wright. Inspector Cabanela, I trust your team will continue your investigation. Court is dismissed.” The judge banged his gavel down, and from his place standing over Miles and Maya, the curly haired lawyer began to throw confetti, cheering. Phoenix watched in confusion as, while Miles and Maya both looked relieved, they weren’t celebrating the victory. They were talking again. 

Phoenix considered going over and finding out what had them still talking. Instead, he went back over to Klavier. 

“See, what’d I say? Simple.” Phoenix smirked and Klavier chuckled.

“Not sure why I still question you, Herr Vogel . They don’t call you the Turnabout Terror for anything. I’m surprised, though. You’ve never mentioned this ‘magatama’ before. Who did you say gave it to you?” 

“An old friend. She’s… she’s not around anymore.”

“Ach, es tut mir leid .” 

“Don’t worry about it. It… things turned out alright, in the end, and that’s what really matters.” 

“And you remember that.” Klavier said. 

“It’s complicated, Klavier. Like I said, I still have a certain understanding and notion about my life, and most of the finer details are murky. I just guess that whole car crash stuck a little more than some other things.” Phoenix bluffed. Klavier seemed to buy it, though. 

“Well, looks like I’ll be heading back down to Gourd Lake then, seeing as it’s all we’ve gooooot.” Cabanela joined them and then passed Phoenix a piece of paper, “Here, I had my baby Lynne grab an evidence release form, since you seemed so insistent on getting your little bead there back.”

“Thanks, Inspector Cabanela.” 

“Please, just call me Cabanela, yeah? Especially considering how much more we’ll be seeing of each other.” He winked. Phoenix signed the paper and initialed where it needed to be initialed. Cabanela took the paper back and swept up the rest of the evidence to be taken back to the police station. They were sparse things - some papers, some rocks with a bit of blood, the rope that had apparently been around Phoenix’s ankle. The magatama was left behind, and Phoenix smiled as he took the plastic bag. 

“Well, Herr Vogel, if our court cases are over, we should be getting back to the Prosecutor’s Office. And then, afterwards, we should have dinner, ja?” Klavier suggested.

A chill ran down his back, and he snapped over to look at the gallery that had been sitting above them. His heart picked up for a moment, a familiar kind of sudden paranoia. He swore he saw purple amongst the watchers as the filed out, but he couldn't be sure. 

“Herr Vogel?” Klavier asked.

“Nothing, don’t worry about it. Dinner will be great.” Phoenix said, keeping his eyes up at the crowd as he opened up the plastic bag and pulled out the magatama. 

He dropped it like it had burned him. It had been the exact opposite. The magatama had felt cold, lifeless. Hesitatingly, Phoenix grabbed the magatama and looked it over again, more closely. The hair-line fracture he’d remembered was there. But the color if it looked dull, the faint glow it had given off for years completely non-existent, the comforting feeling of otherness gone. 

The magatama wasn’t charged.

Chapter Text

Phoenix held the magatama in his hand, enclosed in his fist, the entire ride to the Prosecutor’s Office. By the time they reached the parking garage, the magatama was warm, but only due to having been held for so long. It still didn’t glow, and Phoenix started to wind the thread it hung from around his wrist like he’d done so many times before but it snapped and he was forced to put it into his pocket instead. 

“Are you sure you’re alright, Herr Vogel ?” Klavier asked as they got into the elevator, “You’ve been very quiet since the trial.”

“Sorry, there’s just… I have a lot of questions. I’m relieved Maya got a not guilty verdict, but… I don’t know, there’s just a lot I still don’t know, and I guess that’s just starting to really sink in.” Phoenix sighed, slipping his hand into his pocket to touch the magatama once more and still feeling absolutely nothing from it. He hadn’t realized how much he’d been banking on the magatama somehow holding the answers he needed, or a magical way back home, or something, anything, until he’d held it and it had had none of those. It hadn’t even had its normal powers. Yet another thing that had been a false comfort in this world. 

He sat in his office, feet kicked up on his desk, and continued to look over the magatama. It wasn’t a total waste, he reminded himself, thinking of Maya and Miles celebrating the verdict with noodles or hamburgers, not even close. He’d just try to keep his head down while he tried to figure out more about this world. There must be some kind of lesson he was supposed to be learning here, or something he was supposed to fix, and the whole thing that was going on with Klavier and Kristoph would be a great place to start. Even if the idea of going through another cold war made him want to scream. 

Phoenix’s contemplation was shattered by the ringing of his office phone. 

“Yes?” Phoenix answered the phone.

“Prosecutor Wright, Chief Prosecutor Von Karma would like to speak with you.” A kind woman’s voice said through the speaker. Phoenix nodded to himself. He couldn’t say it was a surprise, exactly, but he had managed to forget about the likely inevitable fallout of his actions in court, both due to being used to being a defense lawyer of his office at one point and only really having to answer to himself and because he’d become to caught up in figuring out his next plan of action. 

“Alright, I’ll be right up.” He told her. He cast a quick look around his office, making sure there hadn’t been a new case file dropped somewhere while he was gone that Von Karma was going to expect him to bring or have read over by now. The odd fear that had struck him at the same time as Von Karma’s slap the last time he’d talked to the man slowly slid it’s way up and down his spine as Phoenix climbed into the elevator. He firmly reminded himself that he was going to be fine. 

On a whim, despite his own shaking hand’s protest, Phoenix opened the door to the Chief Prosecutor’s office without so much as knocking. 

“No manners today, I see.” Von Karma said with a sniff, standing up from his seat. 

“You asked me to come, it’s not as if you weren’t aware I was going to be up.” Phoenix replied.

“In one of your moods again, are you? Reckless, full of emotion, imperfect. As always, your judgement is clouded by those unnecessary feelings of yours.” Von Karma’s disdain was clear, sharp, painful in a way Phoenix couldn’t entirely place or explain. 

“Don’t feelings seem kind of-”

“Again with this,” Von Karma snapped his fingers and Phoenix found himself flinching at the sound, “Years of lessons and not one has stuck with you. I gave you everything, Wright, every opportunity to improve yourself, to make yourself into something worthwhile. You’ll do well to remember that. You’ve only gotten to the position you have because of me. Throwing away opportunities presented so plainly to you like you have today is a disgrace to all I have allowed you to have,” Von Karma glared down his nose at Phoenix, “And I have the power to take away all that you have. What do you have to say for yourself after the mockery you made of the courtroom today?” 

Phoenix straightened his spine, placing his hands behind his back so that Von Karma couldn’t see how he held onto his wrists, nails digging in and grounding him. Logically, he knew that his life wouldn’t be over if he wasn’t a prosecutor. Hell, it’d probably be better. He could just start over here, for real, maybe become a defense attorney again, not have to deal with the hundreds of people in the building he should know but doesn’t. And yet Von Karma’s threat made his heart skip a beat in fear. 

“Maya Fey didn’t drown me.” Phoenix said. His voice came out miraculously even. 

“Yet you’ve refused to testify on the matter of the event itself.” Von Karma challenged. 

“If Maya Fey was convicted, the investigation would stop, and the actual person will never be found.” Phoenix continued. 

“If you were truly concerned with such a matter, why do you not say your attacker’s name?”

“Maybe,” Phoenix swallowed a lump in his throat and forcefully slipped himself into the poker mentality again. Expressionless, calm, so familiar and comforting and sickening all at the same time, “Maybe for all the faults you see in me, you cannot see the forest for the trees here, Von Karma. What I do in that courtroom, in a case about an attempt on my own life, is none of your concern.” 

“Despite everything, you still bear the burden of my own legacy every time you step into that sacred house of law. Every choice you make is always my concern, and not taking the opportunity to deal a blow against those pesky defense attorneys who have plagued you for far too long is a humiliation I nearly can’t bear to stand. But, if you insist on knowing what you’re doing… so be it. I expect the results of this to be worth my time.” 

“Of course.” Phoenix said. He held Von Karma’s gae, those terrible sunken-in and wrinkly eyes, eyes of a murderer, for what felt like a whole minute of silence, before Von Karma sniffed and grabbed a stack of files from his desk, shoving them at Phoenix. 

“Choose a new case. I expect whatever little game you’re trying to play here will not interfere with your work.” 

PHoenix flipped through them quickly, almost choosing one where he was sure the defendant was innocent before remembering what side of the court room he’d been standing on and instead picking on where his gut told him the defendant was likely guilty. Not another word was said from either Phoenix or Von Karma, and when Phoenix left his hands were still shaking but he found he was holding up much better than the last time they’d spoken. 

He didn’t like this, this feeling as if the rest of him was used to being afraid and cautious of Von Karma. It felt irrational, and sort of like he was going crazy. At least Phoenix was used to having civil conversations with someone he hated right down to the marrow of his bones. 

Phoenix had just started to go through the case file a bit more thoroughly when his office door opened and the other Von Karma entered. 

“Franziska.” Phoenix said in surprise. She was holding a bouquet and shoved it to him.

“One of the staff was pacing outside your door with this.” She informed him and Phoenix took it. There was a ‘glad you’re back’ note placed between the flowers. 

“What brings you by?” Phoenix asked, shuffling the flowers off to a corner of his desk. It was a pretty long desk, so even with it there was plenty of space for him to continue working, “If you’re planning to talk to me about interrupting the trial earlier today-”

“A foolish action by a fool.”

“- then your father already did that.” 

“Father is a fool himself if he expected any different from you,” Franziska declared, “If has always been in your nature to do foolish things. I simply came by to inform you that I will not be staying in the states for much longer. I have my work in Germany to get back to, and as you’ve clearly recovered just fine from your incident, there is no reason for me to stay.” 

“You’re returning to Germany,” Phoenix repeated, surprised despite himself. He knew, of course, that Franziska in his own world lived in Germany, work divided between prosecution and interpol, and yet it felt surprising to find the same thing here considering she’d been in the states since Phoenix woke up. This brought with it the next thought of, “You came here because of me. Because I went missing.” 

“Of course.” She said without any hesitation. Phoenix had never been great at reading Franziska, and he couldn't for the life of him figure out what the expression on her face meant. So, he simply said,

“Thank you, Franziska.” 

“A foolish and needless gratitude,” Franziska dismissed, “I expect you, however, to tell if if there are any developments to your case, or if you remember anything of note.” 

“Remember?” Phoenix tensed up at the accusation and Franziska rolled her eyes. 

“You were clearly stuck on the head. Although it seems you are not willing to admit it, it’s clear that you were not conscious for much of the incident. Foolish pride.” Franiska said. 

“Oh. Yeah. I will tell you if I come across anything.”

“Good.” Franziska nodded. She turned quickly on her heel and strode back to his door, but hesitated before leaving, looking back at him. Phoenix stood up and walked over to her, grabbing her hand, with sudden memories of Franziska and Miles’ relationship spinning round and round his head. 

“Wait.” He said, and a tension he hadn’t realized was there before left Franziska as she used his contact on her wrist as an invitation to hug him. Phoenix automatically hugged back.

“You will not scare me like that again.” She ordered him, voice muffled as it was spoken into his shoulder. 

“Never.” He promised. Franziska pulled back with clear reluctance, smoothing down her rumpled vest until it was perfect again. 

“I will call you when the plane lands.” She told him and Phoenix nodded. She closed the door behind her. 

The rest of the day went by uninterrupted. His new case wasn’t as straightforward as the previous one, and it wouldn’t be until he looked at the crime scene himself that he’d be able to make any sort of informed decision. With lack of transport, however, he mostly went through what was written up and made notes of the questions he’d need to ask the detectives. The trial wasn’t for a couple days, miraculously, and it gave him plenty of time to prepare. 

He couldn’t help but to wonder about Franziska. Was she leaving today? Was she already on the plane? Was there a million other little cues, like her hesitance at the door, that Phoenix hadn’t picked up on? She had clearly been wanting to hug him, but hadn’t allowed herself to do so until Phoenix himself had initiated physical contact. 

“I hate Von Karma.” Phoenix groaned, sinking his face into his hands. No matter the world, the monster left such scars on the children he’d been allowed to raise. 

“Well that’s not news to anybody.” 

Phoenix lifted his face to see Klavier had apparently come in at some point. 

“Is it really late already?” Phoenix rubbed his face and looked at the clock on the wall. It was, indeed, already five-thirty. 

“ Ja , just about time for dinner, wouldn’t you say?”

“Yeah, dinner.” Phoenix collected his case file and assorted materials, putting them into his briefcase, “Did you have any plans on where exactly you wanted to go?”

“ Nein . Wherever the wind takes us.” He said, adjusting his sunglasses.

“Hm. Then… would you be opposed to stopping by a noodle stand?” Phoenix suggested as the two of them made their way back to Klavier’s motorcycle.

“ Achtung , that sounds perfect! Not one you’ve frequented before?” Klavier asked. Phoenix shrugged.

“Not as far as I know.” He said and Klavier nodded, looking the slightest bit sheepish.

“Of course, of course.” 

Phoenix gave vague directions around People Park, saying he thought he’d seen one there on the drive to his house from the hospital the other day, and after a bit they found Eldoon’s noodle stand. For a moment, Phoenix had been worried they wouldn’t find it, or that Eldoon wouldn’t be around here, but he was and he served them both steaming bowls of ramen. Phoenix laughed when Klavier balked at the saltiness, slurping his own down with gusto. 

As Phoenix asked for a second bowl and Klavier tried to make it more than half-way through his, a couple more people came to the stand and Eldoon turned his attention over to them. Klavier straightened and turned to face Phoenix better, all serious business. 

“If you’re going to help me, you’re going to need to be caught up,” He said, “And I need you to understand that we’ve both worked to keep this as quiet as possible, this investigation. Unless we both agree, do not breathe a word of this to anybody else. We have reason to believe - almost proof, even - that Kristoph will do whatever it takes to cover his tracks.”

“Okay.” Phoenix nodded. Klavier took in a deep breath, closing his eyes. 

“Herr Vogel, seven years ago, I took on my first case. The defendant had originally chosen my brother as his defense, but the day before, he apparently changed his mind, and instead hired Miles Edgeworth - a man who is widely considered your rival in the courtroom. My brother Kristoph told me that Miles Edgeworth was a terrible and crafty man. He and his father were plagued by accusations of forging and rigging evidence, my brother said, and that he knew which piece of evidence Edgeworth would present that would be forged. I could finally bring him into the light of justice. It was my first case, a case with both a famed defense attorney and defendant. I would be able to make quite the name for myself. 

“Except Miles Edgeworth never presented the forged evidence.”

Chapter Text

“Except Miles Edgeworth never presented the forged evidence.”

The laugh bubbled from the very pit of Phoenix’s stomach, forcing its way up through his throat like bile and spilling from Phoenix’s lips. He doubled over at first and then threw his head back, the laugh bitter and proud, relieved and jealous, furious and overjoyed. The pitfall, the ruin, the mockery, the last seven years of Phoenix’s life, so easily and simply avoided by the simple act of not presenting a piece of evidence. How often had Phoenix imaged having not done that? Having put more thought into his actions? Considered the case for a bit longer? Been a little less trusting?

“H-Herr Vogel ! Ach, are you alright?!” 

Phoenix almost fell off his stool in front of the noodle stand, but Klavier managed to grab Phoenix’s shirt and save him. By now the sudden laughter had started to die down, just poisonous and hysterical giggles lacing his breath. Phoenix rubbed his face with his hand, finding tears there that he spread around. 

“Of course, huh? Of course he wouldn’t present it. Not Miles Fucking Edgeworth.” Phoenix said, followed by another giggle. It wasn’t as if he wanted something terrible to happen to Miles. Miles was his best friend, had been his purpose for years, was his… his something, that was for sure, and had had far too many hardships in his life already. And yet and yet and yet… a part of Phoenix had thought, maybe hoped, that someone else had fallen into that trap, a vindication for his own foolishness. A dark thing felt like it was writhing in his chest, a feeling he’d become more familiar with the past seven years but he knew had been there, so much smaller but still there, since Dahlia, since Engarde, Hell, probably since the class trial.

“Is everything okay?” Klavier repeated, grip loosening on Phoenix’s shirt but holding it cautiously. Phoenix patted the prosecutor’s arm reassuringly. He wiped away the last of the tears, the fit fading out as quickly as it had set in. He buried down that dark writhing thing again. It was good that Miles hadn’t been disbarred. There were too few good lawyers in the world, a fact he was sure was as true here as back in his world.

“Yeah, yeah, everything’s okay. Just… keep going. How did Edgeworth win the case without the forged evidence? Tell me.” Phoenix urged, and stopped himself from adding ‘please just rub salt into this old wound’. It didn’t so much hurt as it felt like a sick joke, a little more so than any other part of this experience. Klavier still looked worried, but after a moment, he nodded.

“... Miles Edgeworth didn’t win that case. I did. He didn’t have enough evidence to prove that Vallant Gramarye was the killer and not Zak. It would’ve been one thing, for the attorney to win without presenting the forgery; it’s another thing entirely for him to lose. There’s a particular moment that has played over and over in my head throughout the years. His co-council for the case was Frau Mia Fey, and I remember them having an argument right near the end of the trial. It’d been so intense they’d called for a brief five-minute recess. For years, I used it to rationalize what my brother had told me. Perhaps it was Frau Fey that had had the evidence forged and had tried to convince Herr Edgeworth to use, but he’d refused. Maybe it was the other way around. Maybe a million scenarios.

“But it was no simple forgery. I spoke with the forger himself. It was a complicated piece, cost thousands of dollars, dollars the likes of Edgeworth & Fey Law Offices didn’t have. It plagued me for years. What did it mean that Kristoph knew about a forgery that was never used? He had been meant to go up against me initially, after all. How could Herr Edgeworth or Frau Fey get the forgey made on such short notice? I knew, of course I knew, what it spelled out in the end, but I didn’t let myself believe it. Not until I finally asked you about it.”

“And that’s where I come in.” Phoenix said, more to himself than Klavier. Klavier nodded anyway.

“You forced me to confront the truth: that Kristoph had gotten the forged evidence with the intent to use it against me, and then tried to manipulate me into using that evidence to destroy Herr Edgeworth, likely not just in the courtroom but his entire reputation as well. We’ve been searching for solid evidence for four years now, to little avail. Recently, though, we have reason to believe Kristoph has been making an effort to try to cover his hand in the Gramarye case further. A little over a week ago, you said you had a lead. I offered to help, but you insisted you knew what you were doing. It seems that might not have been the truth,” Klavier gave Phoenix a tired smile, “And that brings us about up to present. I think you should have most of the compiled evidence at your place. We can pick it up and review it, if you’re still in.”

“Just four years of this, huh?” Phoenix sighed. It was less than he’d gone through.

“Four years.” Klavier repeated.

“If you don’t mind me asking, there’s something you said that doesn’t feel… right. The stuff about Kristoph, about the forged evidence, I get that. But you mentioned that M- Edgeworth had rumors of underhanded tactics or whatever, and I don’t understand why .” It was a contradiction that had been bothering Phoenix since Klavier had mentioned it. Not as if Phoenix wasn’t used to those kinds of accusations being leveled at Miles, but why had they carried over to here? Miles had, as far as Phoenix was aware, never so much as met Von Karma outside the courthouse. The accusation was made odder by the mention of Miles’ dad, who had been straight-laced until the end.

“ Achtung , you instincts are as good as ever, memories or no. Yes, that goes back to an old case. It must be over twenty years old by now. After the Gramarye case, I looked into Herr Edgeworth to try and parse out the truth of the man.”

A creeping chill ran up Phoenix’s spine.

“Over twenty years? You can’t mean- when Gregory-“

“Mm, one of the sharper memories you’ve kept? I do know that you had a personal interest in DL-6, though you’ve never explained it to me. Yes, the unsolved murder of Yanni Yogi.” Klavier said. It took Phoenix’s brain a moment to realize what in Klavier’s words didn’t match up.

“Wait, Yanni Yogi?”

“Or perhaps not as strong a memory as it seemed. Ja, the älter Herr Edgeworth was accused of a closed-room murder. He was found innocent thanks to the spirit medium that was called in. It was the first time one was used in such a manner, and it brought up many unkind theories of how the verdict was reached.” Klavier explained.

“You mean… is Gregory alive?!” Phoenix was caught somewhere between jumping to his feet, slamming his hands on the counter of the noodle cart, and the part of him that was a seven-year unbeaten poker player demanding he not react at all. The conflict resolved in Phoenix almost falling off his stool a second time and Klavier catching him again.

“Careful, Herr Vogel ! Nein , Herr Edgeworth’s father has been dead for a while now, an investigation that had gone sour. And you… you remember his name, huh?” Klavier assured him, head tilted slightly to the side in consideration. Now that Klavier said it, it sounded vaguely familiar, but his earlier search for information felt ages ago, most of what he’d learned overshadowed but the show of Mia being alive and Miles being a defense attorney.

It was hard for Phoenix to be honest. Trust used to come so easily to him, as easy as breathing, but he’s been burned too many times. Seven years of paranoia didn’t fade so quickly. It felt so many leagues safer to hide behind half-lies and false smiles, cards close to his chest and for his own eyes only. He wasn’t as naive as he once was. He was in his thirties, and tired, and used to shouldering things on his own. But in one world he had moved past this, had overcome it. And he found he wanted to be past it here, too. Caution would have a place, yes, but Phoenix’s caution had hurt people last time. He looked and Klavier Gavin, and he found he couldn’t put the man (boy, child) through something like that.

And yet, when he opened his mouth, the truth that came out still wasn’t right.

“I knew Edgeworth as a kid. We were classmates for a short while in elementary school. I went to his house a few times, and I met Gregory. He was a nice man. I guess the older memories have stuck around clearer.” Phoenix said. Not a lie, he told himself. Not a lie, not technically, not really.

Klavier looked down at his bowl of ramen and then pushed it forward, away from himself.

“I think we should call it a night. I don’t want to overwhelm you with information.” Klavier left a tip on the counter and they walked back to Klavier’s motorcycle in silence. 

The ride back, the wind rushing past them, gave Phoenix a chance to think. He knew he should be focusing on the details of going after Kristoph here too, of his almost untimely demise, but his mind just kept going back to DL-6. 

Same case number.

Different victim and defendant. 

Gregory Edgeworth. Alive, breathing, for years past when he had died in Phoenix’s world. 

It explained why Miles hadn’t been raised by Von Karma, even if it hadn’t explained why Phoenix had been. Phoenix been satisfied before with his base understanding of this funhouse mirror world, but now he wondered just how much had changed besides his and Miles careers and Mia being alive.

Gregory Edgeworth had been alive, had been able to continue to raise Miles. The mere thought of it was enough to bring a smile to Phoenix’s face. Miles in some world deserved that chance to be loved as he grew, to have achieved his childhood dream of being a defense attorney, to have been mentored by his own dad.

Despite already knowing that the Phoenix of this world had gone through some terrible things in his life, he found he was a bit jealous of the prosecutor, who must have had at least some memories of an older Gregory Edgeworth as a defense attorney, maybe even having gone against him in court. More than just the memories of the man who had worn a big trenchcoat that had been so fun to put on, and had told Phoenix fun little jokes he’d go on to tell his classmates, and helped him that one time on a hard English assignment. Precious memories, but memories of someone’s father. Phoenix had never known Gregory Edgeworth, Defense Attorney.

It seemed, however, he was too late.

Klavier stopped outside of Phoenix’s house, the loud engine finally cutting off, and Phoenix handed the helmet back to Klavier. Klavier didn’t take it back right away, instead looking at Phoenix. 

“Herr Vogel, you trust me, right?” He asked.

“Yes.” Phoenix nodded right away. It felt like Klavier was his only ally in all of this, he really had little choice but to trust him.

“I trust you too. And I trust that whatever reason you have for lying and hiding information from me is a good one.” He said. He offered Phoenix a smile, and before Phoenix could think of what to say to that, the rockstar was already driving off again, into the night.

Of course. Phoenix was a good poker player, but he had to admit he’d been off his game recently. It was really to be expected from the strange events, but still, knowing he had been seen through left him a little shaken.

He entered his house. He went up to his room. And he grabbed the notebook that had held all the passwords and pen and sat down, making notes of all he knew about other people so he had a physical copy he could refer back to. If he wanted to keep up the charade of being Prosecutor Wright, he couldn’t get surprised by things like Gregory, or the results of the Gramarye case. And if he was here for a while, he’d want to find his family again, at least make sure they were safe. 

And maybe… maybe he would also have to get someone’s help to do that. Someone who would be aware of his predicament not just in the sense of him not knowing, but of him having other, conflicting information.

Maybe it was time he told Klavier the whole truth.

Chapter Text

There were more flowers on Phoenix’s doorstep.

Phoenix groaned, looking from the elaborate bouquet and back to his house. He already had flowers on most tables at this point, and he was starting to wonder if their arrival was ever going to end. There were ‘sorry you almost drowned’ tulips and ‘glad you’re back at work’ roses and ‘congrats on your first win back’ flowers of some variety he didn’t recognize. By this point he was decently sure most weren’t from any source of actual positive emotion towards him, but rather attempts to suck up to him. 

What sucking up to him did , Phoenix wasn’t entirely sure. Maybe something to do with salaries?

This new bouquet was actually one of the few flowers Phoenix recognized. Lilies. Large and beautiful white lilies. Phoenix looked around, as if the person who had dropped them off would magically appear, but no such luck. He’d come out here to grab the mail - something he’d only remembered as something he should probably do this morning - and found the new flowers. With a resigned sigh, he passed it by to grab the mail (a decent sized stack of letters) and then on his way back inside picked it up, carried to the kitchen in the crook of his elbow.

The mail was tossed into Phoenix’s briefcase to read during work and the bouquet, a pricier one that came with its own vase, went on the counter. Phoenix gently rubbed some of the petals between his fingers. They were very pretty. Whoever had picked them out had a better eye for flowers than he did, though that wasn’t a hard feat. 

A letter was nestled in amongst the flower and Phoenix pulled it out. The front just said ‘congratulations’ in a cursive font. Phoenix flipped it open quickly,

And his heart stopped as he recognized the hand writing.

Immaculate, letters strung together in cursive yet again, in a dark blue ink. Probably with that fountain pen of his, the crimson one that he signed all documents with. Phoenix’s skin crawled just thinking about it. 

Wright,

I’m glad to see that you have returned to work in your usual vigor and style. You are still quite a sight to see in action, even after all these years. It would’ve been a shame to have lost such a brilliant talent in the courts. 

~Gavin

Signed just ‘Gavin’, but there was absolutely no question as to which one it was. Phoenix, with utmost calm, closed the card and set it down next to the vase. His thumbs brushed against the fingers that had touched the flowers and he walked over to the sink, turning on the faucet. He put a bit of soap into his hands and began to wash them.

Atroquinine was lethal at two micrograms.

Atroquinine was lethal at two micrograms. 

Phoenix turned up the heat of the water and started got more soap onto his hands. He’d spent years and years being careful around Kristoph. Throwing out gifts, especially if they were food. Never taking home leftovers after eating with Kristoph. Not drinking from a cup that had been left alone with the man. He wasn’t going to be done in with something like poison-laced flowers.

Was the poison in the fragrance of the flowers? Phoenix hadn’t smelled them, not deeply at least. It wasn’t as if he’d put his entire face into the flowers. Phoenix’s heart was beating loudly, and he wondered if even now poison was working his way through his system. He felt sick. He scrubbed his hand harder under the rushing water. 

He should burn the flowers and the card. Or what if that carried the poison with the smoke? He could bury them. No, no he should think logically. He should keep them around, get them tested and proven for poison, he should-

He should stop this. 

Phoenix’s hands were shaking now and he slammed the faucet off. Kristoph wouldn’t be so careless as to poison flowers and leave them where they could be easily accessed. If Phoenix was found dead, and poisoned, surely things in his house would be tested. He could still have the flowers or the card tested, he could probably get something from the police department - he was a prosecutor, he could throw some weight around to get his hands on something. But Kristoph probably hadn’t done anything to them. 

Not everything Phoenix had tossed had been poisoned, had been sabotaged. Phoenix was sure of it, and had been sure of that fact for years. But it was never a risk he was willing to take when he had a daughter to look after. 

It still wasn’t a risk he wanted to take, but he had resources now. 

Phoenix’s hands were red from the scrubbing and the hot water. They were also still shaking.

Phoenix took a few deep breaths, bracing himself against the counter, and then went up to his room. In one of the drawers of his closet were pairs of gloves, and he pulled out some black ones, covering up his hands. 

There.

Like it never happened. 

The sound of a horn honking snapped Phoenix out of staring at his now-gloved hands at the same time as his new phone (which he was slowly but surely figuring out) vibrated and he got a text from Klavier announcing he’d arrived to drive Phoenix to the office. 

Phoenix considered getting it over with right then. He’d already decided to tell Klavier, but it felt wrong to do it right before they got to work. Afterwards, he promised himself. Afterwards, he’d tell Klavier the entire truth, and take whatever reaction came with it. If he lost Klavier, that was fine. He’d dealt with Kristoph on his own before. 

(Not on his own, even if his support system had been forced to be far away and not reach out as much as they might have liked to. There had always been that small voice that said if something happened to him, his work would be carried on.)

Most of Phoenix’s day hadn’t been odd at all. Gumshoe took him down to the crime scene and Phoenix investigated and found some items he thought would be useful additional evidence. He met with the defendant, an Emma Sent, who was being accused of first-degree murder, found at the scene. The victim was her ex, so she had clear motive, but Phoenix got that feeling in his gut that usually meant someone was innocent. Usually, that was when he decided to take someone’s case. 

He didn’t have a choice this time. The case was already his. 

And he was going to be on the wrong side of the court. 

Phoenix reminded himself, as he left the station and got into Gumshoe’s car again to get back to the office, that the side didn’t matter. All that ever mattered was revealing the truth, both sides of the courtroom working together to bring that into light. Whoever was Ms. Sent’s defense, they’d be trusting Phoenix to do so. So Phoenix would do what every Prosecutor did: come up with the most likely theory based solely on the evidence at hand, and let the Defense find the contradictions.

Near the end of the day, the phone on his desk rang, and he found himself hesitant to pick it up. He really didn’t want to know what the hell Von Karma wasn’t this time, but the Von Karma’s threat rang through his head and he knew better than to ignore it.

“Hello?” He grunted into the receiver. 

“Prosecutor Wright, Ms. Maya Fey is here to see you.” The receptionist - Renee, he reminded himself - told him. Phoenix’ raised his eyebrows in surprise. 

“Maya?” He repeated. 

“Yes sir. Do you want to see her?” 

“Yeah, of course. Send her up.” Phoenix replied immediately.

He chewed on the end of his pen as he waited for her to come up. Of course he wanted to see Maya, but he had to remind himself that it wasn’t going to be his Maya. He didn’t know what this Maya wanted. Did it have to do with the trial yesterday? That was what made the most sense, but he wasn’t sure exactly what she’d want to talk about. 

He slipped his hand into his pocket, where the magatama sat. He hadn’t gotten a new string for it yet. Maybe he had some idea what she might want to talk about. 

She knocked on his door. She never knocked, always burst into his office or his apartment or his room, no matter the time or situation. Maya had walked in on some odd situations before, but at some point Phoenix had become accustomed to it. 

“Come in.” He said after getting over his surprise. The door slammed open with Maya’s usual vigor at least, and there she was. Not behind glass, not on the defendant stand, but Maya safe and sound. A part of Phoenix that he hadn’t realized had been on edge, had still been worried, relaxed.

“Wright, hi.” She said, a simple smile. There was something on her mind, that much was clear. 

“Nick, uh, Nick is fine.” He corrected and then looked down and shuffled his papers so that he didn’t have to see her reaction. Wright just sounded so wrong coming out of her mouth. 

“Nick then! I just wanted to stop by and thank you for yesterday.”

“Of course,” Phoenix waved a dismissive hand, “I told you I knew you didn’t do it.”

“But you didn’t,” Now it was Maya’s turn to correct him, and it took him by surprise, “You didn’t know it wasn’t me. Miles told me that you don’t remember what happened, so you didn’t know it was me. You trusted that it wasn’t me.”

“I knew it wasn’t you,” Phoenix reaffirmed, “You wouldn’t do that.” 

“Still, thank you. But,” And here Maya hesitated, eyes darting around Phoenix like she was trying to spot something, “Why did you need that magatama?”

“It’s mine. I needed it back.” Phoenix defended. Maya gave him a look, that look that meant she was sensing somebody was bullshitting her. 

“You’re still going to claim it’s yours?”

“Because it is! I’ve spent every day since I woke up wanting to get it back. Like I said, it was given to me by somebody close to me, and used to belong to someone who was very important today who’s not around anymore.” Phoenix insisted. Maya crossed her arms and chewed on her lip. 

“It’s yours?” Maya repeated once again. 

“Yes.” 

“You’re sure?” 

“Yes!” 

“... I owe you, I guess,” Maya sighed in defeat, “You know, I’ve always said you were going to come around one day. I mean, I thought that day was going to be ten odd years ago. So I’ll give you a chance, okay? You have that same look, like when Miles is working on a tough case. Whatever you need it for, it’d better be good, okay?” Maya leaned across the desk so that she was close to Phoenix’s face. He leaned away from her. 

“Y-yeah, sure.

“Good! And I want it back when it’s over, okay?” 

Before Phoenix could say anything to that, Maya was out of his office again. 

He leaned back in his chair, pulling out the magatama and turning it over. It… it was his magatama, right? Yes, there it was, the little fracture that could be seen all the way through the gem. He didn’t know what Maya was talking about, but sure, when this was ‘over’, he’ll ‘give it back '. Although, that would be hard to do back in his real universe. 

He smiled to himself as he recalled Maya saying she was giving him a chance. A chance. A chance to get her to be his friend here. If this was going to be a long game, if he was going to be here for a while, he wanted more friends. He needed more friends. He needed his family again.

But for now, Phoenix thought as he headed down to the parking garage once more, where Klavier would be waiting for him, he needed to make sure he didn’t lose one of the few people who did seem to already trust him. He had a meager support system, and he couldn’t squander it. Klavier already had his helmet on. 

“Abend, Herr Vogel. How was your day?” 

“Not bad.” Phoenix said, and then neither of them said anything else the rest of the ride to Phoenix’s house. He had the entire ride to back down. He hadn’t technically committed to anything yet. But he just kept remembering Klavier telling him, honestly, but a little sadly, that he trusted Phoenix to the point of enduring lies. 

The motorcycle came to a stop in front of his house. Phoenix climbed off. 

“Klaver, you deserve better,” Phoenix said honestly. Klavier’s head tilted to the side, expression impossible to see from the helmet, “And you deserve trust, and truth.”

“... Herr Vogel, what I said last night-”

“You’ve spent years of your life living with the knowledge that you’ve been a pawn in your elder brother’s game. It’s not fair to make you feel like you’ve just swapped one person’s chessboard for another. So I’m going to be honest with you, and truthful, and in turn I need you not to think I’m crazy.” 

“Crazy?”

“Crazy. Because It sounds crazy, and I recognize that, but it’s the honest truth.”

“... noodles again?” Klavier offered. 

“That sounds great to me.” 

Eldoons was at the other end of People’s Park this time. They took their bowls and this time found a random bench to sit on. Phoenix slurped up one of the noodles. If they came here too often, they’d need to start being more careful, but two visits to a cart didn’t yet create a pattern. They should be able to speak freely. 

Klavier was patient, and quiet, and tired-looking. He was young. That was a though Phoenix always had, not matter what universe, when looking at kids like Apollo or Klavier or Ema. 

“I wasn’t lying, when I said I couldn’t remember who killed me, or that the details of my life are a mystery to me. But it’d be more accurate to say that the details of this life is a mystery. My memories and the history of this world don’t match up. The discrepancies go back years and years, nearly my entire life as far as I can tell. See, in my memory, I’m a Defense Attorney, not a Prosecutor. I’ve worked closely with the Fey’s, I’ve destroyed unbeaten Prosecutor records. Most of it probably isn’t too important. What’ll interest you more is that in my universe, in my memories, I remember Kristoph. I remember what kind of man he is, and I was able to help put him in jail, to find him guilty of forgery and murder. If we can figure out where these details coincide or not, we might be able to have an unseen upperhand on him.

“So… what do you say? Are you willing to play with a hand of impossible cards?”

Klavier hadn’t looked away from Phoenix the entire time, and didn’t say anything for a long moment. Finally, he opened his mouth and said,

“Scheiße.”

Chapter Text

“I can’t just- you can’t- that’s not- Herr Vogel what do you mean?!” 

Klavier was now pacing in front of Phoenix, waving his bowl of ramen around with reckless abandon and getting noodles and broth everywhere.

“That I’m from another world. Sort of ‘Wonderful Life’ -ish, except I do exist here, just a bit to the left of me.” 

“ Ach, ja, that clears it up so much!” Klavier shouted up to the sky. He ran a hand over his face aggressively, “That, that, Mein Gott, what does that even…? I, I need to think. I need to think about… I need a drink.” Klavier finally settled on, face set. Phoenix nodded understandingly, rising form the bench and gently taking the bowl from Klavier’s hand to return to Eldoon. 

“That’s probably the best idea. I think I can find my way back to my house from here-”

“If you think I’m letting you out of my sight, you’re even crazier than I thought. Which at the moment is quite a lot! Apparently, I can't let you out of my sigh,t or you might forget who I am!” Klavier snapped and then took in a deep breath through his nose, letting it out slowly, “Sorry, I’m just, I… just get on my hog we’re heading to my place.”

There was the briefest of detours to hand the bowls back over. Eldoon shook his head at Phoenix’s unfinished bowl and Phoenix promised that it had tasted great, he just had somewhere he needed to be right now. Klavier didn’t say anything, his face having gone almost stoney, eyes far off. Against his will, Phoenix compared it to Kristoph, to that man’s poker face. He did his best to dismiss that thought, but… but maybe he was in a poker-

No, no Phoenix had initiated this conversation, he did it to be open and honest with Klavier so that they could well and truly work together on this. This was no poker game. Klavier just needed time to think. And yes, maybe Phoenix had put his fate here into Klavier’s hands by giving Klavier the chance to think he was absolutely fucking insane, and then tell somebody - anybody, really - with the power to make his life here a living hell for being crazy. But… but Klavier was a good prosecutor, and a good person, and Phoenix needed to trust that this was going to work out for the better. 

Trust trust trust. 

Phoenix got behind Klavier on his motorcycle and was distinctly getting sick of that word.

Klavier’s apartment was further than Phoenix had expected it to be. That, or Phoenix had a theory that Klavier had taken a long way around.

He was surprised that Klavier lived in an apartment. He wasn’t entirely sure why. Maybe it was because Kristoph owned a house, one with a big backyard for Vongole to run around. Klavier didn’t say anything to Phoenix as he led the way up and up and up the apartment complex. Phoenix considered asking if they could use the elevator, but then decided that standing in awkward silence in an elevator would be worse than climbing flights of stairs in awkward silence.      

Klavier’s apartment was pretty big and definitely nice looking. There were various instruments hanging on the walls of the living room that Klavier pointed Phoenix towards while Klavier himself made a beeline for the kitchen. The second Phoenix sat down on the couch, a cat hopped into his lap. The cat was a reddish sort of color, very fluffy, and purring up a storm on Phoenix’s lap, pushing her head against his chest and face and hand and starting to get fur all over his suit. Well, he was sure he had multiple suits for a reason. It would especially make sense if ‘he’ spent a lot of time over at Klavier’s and often got cat hair on him. 

“Hey there buddy. Think your owner thinks I’m off my rocker?” Phoenix asked the cat. The cat’s only answer was to push herself into his fingers with even more force. 

Klavier arrived into the living room heralded by the clinking of glass against glass. He had a bottle he set on the coffee table and two glasses, one of which he put before Phoenix and the other of which he filled up with the drink - wine, it looked like - for himself. The cat mewed in Klavier’s direction but remained on Phoenix’s lap. 

“Go ahead and help yourself.” Klavier said with a gesture to the bottle and Phoenix shook his head.

“That’s alright, I try not to drink too often.” Phoenix declined, although he did have to admit that the entire Situation did feel like it deserved a good drink. Klavier sipped his wine, and then seemed to toss decorum completely to the side as he took a big gulp of it. 

“ Achtung, ” Klavier said, and then took another big gulp of his wine, shaking his head. With one hand he freed his hair from its twisted-up shape, letting it hang loose, “So, you are completely convinced of your story. You… you have that look, like a witness does when they’re finally telling the truth. You completely believe what you’re telling me.” Klavier stated.

“Yup.” Phoenix said, and for it got a mouthful of cat hair as the cat chose that moment to rub her face against his. 

“Maybe you can believe something like that… but I cannot simply take that at face value. I’m sure you understand, Herr Vogel. I’m a Prosecutor, I can only work with facts and logic, and you have provided me with none of the sort.”

“You know, I think I knew you were going to say something like that.” Phoenix sighed and now he reached for the glass. Now that he thought about it, he wasn’t much in the mood to be called crazy while sober. He usually didn’t like to drink, both because he didn’t like the taste of alcohol and didn’t like drinking around Trucy, but this did seem like a special exception for a few reasons.

“But I am not only a prosecutor. I’m also your friend. Two weeks ago, you were your usual self, but you were also being rather quiet about plans you had. You told me you’d fill me in on them later. Your memory issues only began after you went missing and then almost died. But even with those memory problems, you’re trying to work with me to bring Kristoph into the light and claim you still have information that could be useful. And I’ve come too far - both in this and with you - to just deny it. Even after you first admitted to not remembering things, you said you were going to help me, and you asked if I trusted you. I do trust you, despite this all. I am a Prosecutor, I create a theory, a story of what happened, and present it to the court, with facts. So here’s what I have. 

“You had only two major injuries after you were found: a bruise on your stomach and on the back of your head. Perhaps the blow to your head, coupled with the near-death experience, somehow… scrambled up your memories. You said that your memories and reality don’t match up, but that some facts, personalities, people, seem to still be the same. Somewhere in there, you must still know what you were looking into before you were attacked, if we can just figure it out how to piece it back together.” Klavier said. 

“I… that’s not it, though. I mean, Klavier, thank you for trying to figure it out, but I’m from another world, I’m positive of this. It may be the strangest thing that’s ever happened to me, but there have been other strange things before now.”

“And I believe that that is the reality as you understand it. I’m not going to try to convince you otherwise. But this is the reality I can understand. So, if I trust you, then I need to know that you trust me. I’ll, wie hast du es gesagt, ‘play with a deck of impossible cards’, if you understand I’m going to be cautious about taking everything you say at face value.” Klavier said. 

Phoenix took a sip of his own glass of wine. The same taste of rotten grapes he never got used to, no matter how many times Miles tried to have him taste what he insisted was a good vintage. He did like the warmth in the back of his throat afterwards. Phoenix understood it was a lot, asking Klavier to believe him completely at face value. He didn’t have anything to show other than his own memories. No scars, no object other than his magatama, to try and prove his claims. It wasn’t Klavier’s denial that hurt, but rather that Phoenix didn’t like the feeling that he was lying by having Klavier work under the incorrect belief that Phoenix was the Phoenix Klavier had been working closely with for four years. At the moment, though, Phoenix had no way to further convince Klavier that his truth was the entire, literal, truth. Beggars couldn’t be choosers and all that. 

“I can deal with that.”

“And deal with it we will. Tomorrow morning! Because I need a bit more time to come to terms with exactly what you’re trying to sell me on.” Klavier declared, tapped his glass against Phoenix’s and taking another deep and long swig of it. Phoenix gave his own another sip. 

“... you aren’t worried any of this was heard from a little ladybug?” Phoenix asked as the thought hit him. Klavier shrugged. 

“It sounds crazy enough, I’m sure Mein Bruder would just think we were talking in code. And in truth, as you clearly aren’t aware, we’ve only found evidence of your office being bugged and your landline being wiretapped, once each.” KLavier explained. 

“I don’t have a landline.” 

“You don’t have a landline anymore . More trouble than it was worth after that point.” 

“Huh.” Phoenix blinked. That… well, that was a good reason to upgrade. The idea of being wiretapped made his skin crawl. He rarely, if ever, discussed important issues over the phone after what happened with Mia. Maybe that was the beginning of his paranoia. Not paranoia if you had reason to think it, right? 

Right? 

oOo

Phoenix woke up on Klavier’s couch in the morning. The cat had apparently decided that Phoenix was the best bed in the entire apartment and had curled up on his chest. Phoenix picked the cat up and tossed her gently to the floor as he sat up. No more work talk had been done the rest of the night. Klavier had put on “It’s a Wonderful Life” and they’d watched it in weird silence as Phoenix assumed Klavier continued to mull over their predicament. Phoenix on his part was anxious to finally have everything explained clearly and plainly and try to find out what experiences of his could be useful. 

He could wait, though. He could be patient. He’d been plenty patient getting his court system up and running

(And for all the waiting and work, oh, how he might’ve ruined the chance to change the system because he had to - he had to - make sure Kristoph couldn't ruin any more people’s lives and justice was found.)

Klavier had fallen asleep on the couch and Phoenix, to his back’s protest but his half-asleep fatherly insistence, carried Klavier into his room and tucked the man in. Things were only going to be rougher after tonight, and the boy would need good rest. 

The cat mewed at Phoenix, and Phoenix huffed. 

“I don’t know what you want me to do,” He told the cat. The cat brushed against his legs and mewed again, “Why don’t you go bug your owner, huh? I’m sure Klavier knows where your food is.”

“Mmm, that does remind me,” As if spoken into existence, Klavier walked into the room, hair a rat’s nest and still in his clothes from the previous day. His head was lolling about and his eyes were almost completely closed as he walked to the kitchen, Phoenix following after him, the cat following Phoenix, “I’ve meant to ask if you wanted me to keep watching Wren.” 

“Wren?” 

“Your cat.” Klavier nodded down to said cat. 

“ My cat?” Phoenix repeated, “But, there’s… there’s not even cat hair in my house!”

“You have some housekeepers who come through and clean once a week. After you went missing, I made sure Wren got fed.” Klavier pulled out a can of catfood, much to the delight of Wren apparently as the cat shouted even louder. “We can discuss that later. I imagine you want to get to business.” Klavier made a decent effort to look alive again, but Phoenix got the distinct impression the man was fighting a hangover. 

“... it can wait until we’re both ready for the day.” Phoenix said and almost missed the relief that swept over Klavier. 

“Yes. Let’s take some time, freshen up, and then we’ll talk about my brother’s ever-growing list of murder victims.”

Chapter Text

Phoenix made himself at home rummaging through Klavier’s cupboards and fridge while the prosecutor, after having eaten a bowl of cereal without opening his eyes once, took a shower and came back an hour later with his makeup on and as dressed up as he ever was. Phoenix had put the TV on in the meantime, some mundane history-news story playing about the creation of Gourd Lake like white noise in the background as some scientist explained sometimes about meteorites. Klavier’s hands were running  through his hair, the beginning of a braid forming and coming undone several times. Phoenix stuffed his piece of toast into his mouth and then motioned for Klavier to turn around. Klavier raised his eyebrows, but walked closer and did just that. 

“Ugh, you’re too tall,” Phoenix grumbled after swallowing the last bit of his toast, “Can you sit down?”

“ Ja…?” Klavier said with a bit of confusion. Phoenix combed through Klavier’s hair with his fingers, like he’d done for Trucy so many times before. 

“French or dutch?” He asked. 

“Uh, dutch,” Klavier, to his credit, responded quickly, though not unphased, and Phoenix set to work, “I had no idea you could braid, Herr Vogel. ”

“Can’t say whether the me you knew did,” Phoenix responded. It had been a skill Phoenix first started developing all the way back when he was dating Dahlia-who-was-actually-Iris, helping her with her braids in the morning. Then, sometimes Trucy would need help with a more elaborate hairstyle for a show. It wasn’t every show, but often enough over seven years that Phoenix picked up some things, “Now, you said your brother was going on a killing spree?” Klavier hesitated for a second, and Phoenix added, “If it makes you feel better I tried to check for bugs. Didn’t find any, but considering I’ve never found one, I’m not sure what I’m really looking for.” 

“Ha, yes, that… I’d love to say you’re being a little dramatic, but unfortunately… the issue has been compounding. Perhaps, if you truly don’t remember, I should start a bit further back,” Phoenix undid the braid, dissatisfied with it, and started over while Klavier took a second to collect his thoughts, “Four years ago, Prosecutor Wright and I started to investigate into my brother. We’ve been struggling to find solid physical proof. Kristoph, as you may or may not be aware, knows the system, and he knows that verdicts are reached from evidence, and he knows how to hide his evidence. There is also, of course, the fact that the incident with the forgery was already three years old at that point, and then trying to do it without using any other law enforcement to help with investigation made it even more difficult.” 

“Really? Not even Gumshoe?” Phoenix asked. 

“No, he- you… Wright was very insistent that we work quietly and between us. His fear wasn’t completely unfounded. Like I said, we’ve found evidence of being watched, and that was really all it took to confirm the feeling wasn’t just paranoia. And the care was also because, well, Wright always insisted that Kristoph was just practice. That’s neither here nor there. One problem at a time, ja? Well, in the past few months, we’ve been able to make most unfortunate breaks in our investigation.” 

“... who was first?” Phoenix had finished the braid, and it looked perfect, but he dreaded the idea of having nothing to do with his hands, of staring Klavier in the face when he tells Phoenix that the first person Kristoph killed was Trucy, for being the one who had held the forged evidence. The world felt so narrow, and he undid the braid again. 

“Investigative reporter Spark Brushel,” Phoenix felt bad for feeling so relieved at that, but he let out an audible sigh of relief. Klavier gave a humorless chuckle, “Ah, one of the things that stuck around, I see? Brushel was a pain to work around. He had many enemies, enough so that it was impossible to narrow down who murdered him, and it went unsolved. You pursued it, and although it didn’t turn up anything, you insisted that Brushel’s connection to the Gramarye case couldn’t be ignored. We weren't entirely sure, however, until the pattern started to emerge with the next murder not long after that. This… we had a disagreement over this one.” 

“That doesn’t sound good.” 

“No, it wasn’t. I fear it might be why you’ve been so distant recently - or, Wright was distant. A man named Shadi Enigmar, a traveller, was killed from a blow to the head in a bar at the base of Eagle Mountain. The bartender at the time was convicted for the murder, but you insisted it was important. Because you recognized Shadi Enigmar as being Zak Gramarye, who had disappeared right after his trial to avoid his guilty verdict. You refused to bring this to the police, still insisting only we work on the investigation, while I tried to convince you that the knowledge would help the police with their investation and possibly help keep the bartender out of jail. Ultimatley, I gave in, while you continued to look into the man’s murder. The bartender did say she saw a man fitting Kristoph’s description near the end of the day before the murder, but no more evidence other than that single testimony was able to get us anything. And then there’s the third one, his most recent one: Herr Drew Misham, two weeks ago.” 

“Surprised he didn’t start with him.” Phoenix mumbled. 

“Yes, the forger himself. Poisoned, it would seem. You insisted on looking into this one on your own. I had a heavy case load, and you used that as rationalization, but I still think you had lost faith in me after our argument. A suspect was eventually found, Vera Misham, but the girl had gone missing. They’re still trying to find her, but luckily some more evidence has come to light since then. A letter was found from someone asking Herr Misham to meet with him. The poison that killed Misham was identified to be the same one on a stamp that was used for a reply that never reached the mailbox. It went to a PO box, but the owner of the PO box hadn’t been found. We believed it was Kristoph, and you said… you said you had a lead. And then I didn’t see you again until they pulled you out of the lake.”

Phoenix finally put a hairband on the braid.

“He didn’t tell you what the lead was, did he?” Phoenix grimaced. 

“Nein, Herr Vogel. I don’t know what he found, or hoped to find, or where he went other than possibly Gourd Lake, and even that is far from a sure fact.”

“Do you think it was Kristoph?”

Klavier didn’t respond. He ran a hand over his braid, flicking it over his shoulder. Phoenix wondered, if he pressed Klavier, if the man would have psyche-locks. An ultimately useless thought.

“Do you have a plan?”

“... nein, other than to try and see if the PO box will be able to provide further evidence. Our damned legal system, and it’s insistence on evidence against simple logic and common sense.” Klavier almost snarled the last bit. It was a reality, a notion, a frustration that Phoenix was intimately aware of, how the system was so terribly flawed, often feeling like it was looking more for a scapegoat than for actual justice. 

“Well, if you were to ask me, it feels like chasing after Kristoph’s trail isn’t going to do us much good. He knows what he’s doing, and while I don’t think we should drop the Misham case entirely, we should try to think ahead. Kristoph is clearly trying to tie up the loose ends from the Gramarye trial. It almost reminds me of an old case. You’ve heard of the Joe Darke killings, right?” Phoenix asked. Klavier stood from the chair and led the way to the couch, where they sat down just as they had the night before, but completely sober this time, and facing the future instead of trying to understand the past. 

“Mein Bruder, the next Joe Darke… it certainly looks that way.” Klavier said with a wry smile. 

“We need to focus on who he’ll be after next. If nothing else, even if we don’t find proof, we can save some lives.” Phoenix suggested. Klavier nodded, and Wren jumped onto Klavier’s lap. The cat’s presence seemed to help settle Klavier, who had clearly been getting frustrated and on edge over talking about the murders his brother likely committed. “So, if Brushel, Misham, and Zak are already dead, who’s left?” 

“Achtung, of course, get ahead of him!” Klavier snapped his fingers, startling Wren out of his lap and onto Phoenix’s. Phoenix was still in the same suit he’d been wearing yesterday, still covered in cat hair, and he gave up trying to keep the fur off of him this time. It was clearly a losing battle, “Well, there would be Vera, I suppose, if he hasn’t already gotten to her and that’s the reason for her disappearance. Then there would be… Valant Gramarye, who was also present and who Herr Edgeworth and Frau Fey were trying to point towards being the culprit. I can’t be sure if he actually was or not, or if he had some kind of plan to work with Kristoph. Then… Hm, the only others who come to mind would be myself, who knew about the unused forged page, and the defense, who received it.” It was a short, and honestly fairly worrying list, considering who it comprised of. And Phoenix opened his mouth to add yet another frightening possibility. 

“What about… Zak had a daughter, right? Trucy? What happened to her?” 

“Of course, his daughter! Hm, I’m not sure, actually. I… in the aftermath of the trial, I tried to keep to myself.” Klavier admitted. It was a confirmation of her death, or her being put into a terrible home, or something else terrible, and it was enough for Phoenix to live with for now. 

“I think we should make sure she’s safe, first. In my version, she was the one who handed off the diary page, who received it from Kristoph, in fact. She didn’t see his face, but it still might have been too much contact with him for Kristoph to let stay if he’s really going around cleaning up like this.” Phoenix said. 

“ Ach, ja, it’s bad enough she’s lost her father, even if she doesn’t know it yet. It’s terrible it happened to Vera. And… perhaps I should’ve followed up on her situation sooner. It is my fault, after all, that her father disappeared.” Klavier admitted with a false laugh. 

“It’s not,” Phoenix insisted, “Zak’s actions are his own, alright. I know the court system might be liberal at times with the death sentence, but it was only the initial trial. As much as we act like our trials are the end-all-be-all, there would still have been a chance, slim as it might be, for him to find a way out.” Phoenix had spent a lot of time thinking about the different choice Zak should’ve made, the choice Phoenix would’ve made in the man’s shoes. He knew one thing for sure: he would never, on his life, leave Trucy wondering where he went and what happened to him. 

(He’d had plenty of time over the last seven years of a cold war to wonder how his death would affect people, to get his will in order just in case, to have dinners with Kristoph and wonder if this would be the last one. A foolish thought, because people knew he had dinner with Kristoph on those nights every week, and yet… oh how he worried about Trucy losing another daddy.)

“So, we just need to find her, then.” Phoenix surmised.

“I’ll see if I can find any leads today. You have a crime scene to investigate, right?” Klavier said and the crushing reality of ‘oh shit, I don’t control my own work day really’ hit Phoenix again in the face. 

“Right. Work.” Phoenix groaned. He looked down at himself. “Hm, I don’t suppose that we could stop by my house so I can get a change of clothes?” 

“Oh, sure. And… do you want Wren back?” Klavier nodded to the cat, who Phoenix had been petting for a good while now almost without thinking about it, the cat making loud and rumbling purrs the entire time. He almost said no, that Klavier was clearly doing fine with the cat, and Phoenix hadn’t had to take care of a pet in a long time. Then he thought about bein alone in that house again. Must’ve been a reason that the other PHoenix had a cat, right? 

“I… I think I’d like her to be home.” Phoenix said. Klavier nodded.

“I’ll need to find a chance to bring her back then, as well as her things.” 

“Sounds good to me.” Phoenix said.

A game plan. They had a game plan now. 

And now Phoenix was going to find his daughter. He wondered if he should tell Klavier that he had ulterior motives, somewhat, to wanting to make sure Trucy was okay, but dismissed it. It didn’t matter, one way or another, finding her was important. He just hoped he’d be able to keep his head when he saw someone who wasn’t exactly his baby girl.

Chapter Text

Phoenix arrived a bit late to work, what with the time required to get back to his house, shower, change, and spare a few seconds to glare at the lily-bouquet that still sat on the island in his kitchen. He considered grabbing one of the flowers to bring to work with him and convince someone to run some tests on it, but there were still red streaks on his hands and wrists from where he’d dragged his nails across them trying to get even the mere idea of poison off of them. Gloves, white this time, covered his hands again, hiding the marks from sight, but he didn’t trust himself to keep a totally level head just yet. He was already dealing with his heart skipping beats every half hour when he remembered that Klavier had information on him that could be used to ruin his career here too. 

Tomorrow. Tomorrow, he’ll find out if anything is up with those damn flowers. For now, he had a crime scene to investigate.

When he and Klavier arrived at the office, Phoenix half expected another stern talking-to from Von Karma, this time for being late. As they got into the elevator for that exact reason, Phoenix voiced as much to Klavier. 

“You are a grown man, Herr Vogel, no matter your relation to Chief Prosecutor Von Karma. Surely you don’t expect him to babysit you. A prosecutor of your reputation and status can offord to be late.” Klavier said with amusement in his voice. Phoenix rolled his eyes. 

“Well if I was such an adult then why has he been micromanaging me?” Phoenix grumbled, suppressing the shiver that ran up his spine at the mere recollection of the two times they’d talked face to face. 

“Unfortunately, I’m the wrong person to talk to about that. I believe that sister of yours,  Frau Peitsche, would be a better person to ask. Although, from what I understand, the Chief Prosecutor is worried about the image you present of yourself. There were certain, let’s say rules, that always seemed to govern your conduct. I never understood them, or asked.” Klavier shrugged. 

Phoenix remembered the way that Miles and Franziska used to interact with each other. All hidden meanings and unsaid words, dancing around certain topics and cutting straight to the point on others. It was something that had eased with time away from Von Karma and time to redefine their relationship and how it had to be expressed, something Phoenix had watched mostly from a distance. Hate curled around his heart knowing that it was something that must still be alive and well here. 

“Of course,” He hissed, mostly under his breath, “Well here’s hoping I don’t mess up much more. I don’t know what Von Karma’s limit is, and I don’t plan to find out while I’m still here.” 

“I wish you nothing but the best of luck on that. If It’s any consolation, the Chief Prosecutor is supposed to be busy with some Judicial Conference of some sort soon. They’re supposed to be discussing the current law system, but we all know nothing is going to come of it.” Klavier said. The elevator finally reached their floor. 

“So long as the system is benefitting somebody high-up, it’s going to be hard to get any change going.” Phoenix sighed. 

“Evidence is important, but perhaps it shouldn’t be everything. I’ve been doing research, recently, into jury trials. An antiquated system, perhaps, but some countries in Europe still use it. But one problem at a time, ja? ” Klavier said as they stopped at Phoenix’s office. 

“One thing at a time.” Phoenix repeated, patting Klavier on the back. “But afterwards, after we take care of Kristoph, I do have some thoughts on a trial system, if you’d like to hear them.” 

“ Naturlich!” Klavier grinned. 

Most of Phoenix’s morning was filled with sorting through papers, signing things, checking and rechecking the evidence list of what had already been found at the crime scene in the previous days. He called up Gumshoe and asked if the detective could drive him to and from the crime scene, and Gumshoe responded with a boisterous ‘Of course, sir- I mean Phoenix!’ Did Prosecutor Phoenix own a bike? Phoenix wasn’t sure how long he’d be able to keep mooching rides off of Gumshoe and Klavier (although at least with Klavier, there was an understanding as to why ) and having at least the option to bike somewhere was something he’d very much like. No, he wasn’t even going to entertain the idea of trying to drive the car that was parked in the garage. 

During the car ride, Phoenix reviewed the case with Gumshoe. 

“So, the victim, Ms. Miri Durn, was stabbed through the back in her apartment. Ms. Emma Sent was found at the scene of the crime holding the knife and was detained immediately. And… that’s all there is.” Phoenix flipped through the pages one more time just to be sure.

“Yup. Ms. Sent is definitely the killer, didn’t even try to defend herself.”

“The police were notified by… Mr. Davis, the next door neighbor, said he heard the sound of a struggle.” 

“Uhuh, guy said he heard things crushing to the ground and went over to check things out. Caught Mr. Sent red-handed, literally!” Gumshoe said, and Phoenix nodded along. 

The crime scene wasn’t far from the prosecutor’s office. Gumshoe held up the yellow tape for Phoenix as he made his way into the apartment. Most things were tagged by that point, some of the items he’d seen listed in the evidence list among the objects still there, not deemed worth the trouble to be brought to the precinct. Phoenix did his best to recall how Miles usually handled crime scenes from the times over the last seven years that he'd had Phoenix give him a hand with investigations and offering up his opinions. 

Gumshoe talked to the couple officers who had still been there while Phoenix walked around. There was a red stain on the carpet from where Ms. Durn was found and Phoenix grimaced. He wasn’t a squeamish man, but knowing someone had died there was never an easy thing when visiting a crime scene. 

There wasn’t much at first glance, but it was the details that were important, the small things that could win a case. 

After a while, Phoenix’s phone vibrated as Klavier updated him on the search for Trucy. Apparently, she’d been adopted by a woman named Sunny Kleid. However, finding an address for the woman was nigh impossible. When Phoenix had adopted Trucy, he’d been so thankful for how easily the system let him do it, despite the position he was in. Now, he cursed that same system for not giving him a better lead to finding the girl who wasn’t his daughter. Phoenix sighed, annoyed, and asked one of the police if the balcony had been searched yet. 

“Hey bud, you know you’re not allowed on a crime scene!” 

“Maya is getting the request letter right now, c’mon Gumshoe!” 

Phoenix stuffed his phone back into his pocket at the familiar-yet-not-entirely-familiar voice. 

“No can do, pal! Especially not with- Prosecutor Wright! Did you find anything?” Gumshoe jumped slightly in surprise as Phoenix came to stand next to him. Miles leveled him with a scowl, arms folded and foot tapping away. 

“Of course you’re on this case.” Miles growled, and yet… was it just Phoenix’s imagination, or was it not as venomous as when they had last spoken at the detention center?

“I can handle him, Gumshoe, why don’t you help look for clues on the balcony.” Phoenix suggested. Gumshoe raised his eyebrows. 

“The balcony? But the lady was murdered in the kitchen.”

“No stone left unturned if we can help it.” Phoenix said and that seemed to convince Gumshoe enough, leaving Phoenix alone with the defense attorney. Phoenix stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jacket, once more trying to reconcile the man before him with the man he knew so well. The details were so sharp, so strange, somehow even more so than the last time he’d seen him. 

“Wanted to tell me to ‘fuck off’ personally?” Miles asked, and god it was so much his voice but also so much not, words formed in that plain Californian way without any hint of the many years he’d spent in Germany. Experiences were what made you who you were, and if this Miles didn’t have them, well, in a way he wasn’t Miles at all. And yet Phoenix couldn’t seem to convince himself entirely that it was or wasn’t Miles. The man before him was something in between, something that was painful to look at. 

“Actually, I wanted to know your opinion on the case.” Phoenix said. If Miles was on this, at least he knew he could really trust the defense to do his job. 

“It’s not as if I have much yet,” Miles grumbled, “I only heard about it this morning. I had… expected the police to have finished much of their investigation yesterday.” 

“... do you want to start investigating now?” Phoenix suggested. He looked behind him to the police still out on the balcony. Miles narrowed his eyes. 

“... what’s the catch?” 

Phoenix almost said that there was no catch, that he just understood what it was like being on the defense and having to live off the little scraps that you managed to get, and that being allowed on the crime scene with the prosecution helping you even the smallest bit was a godsend. His phone chose that moment to vibrate again, however, as Klavier said that he still wasn’t having any luck. He was going to take a break to get Wren to Phoenix’s house and then he’d probably need to work on some paperwork, but then he’d continue investigating. Phoenix looked up from his phone to Miles. Miles Edgeworth, who had been Zak Gramarye’s lawyer…

“The catch is you tell me if you know where Trucy W… Gramarye is.” 

The glare dropped completely from Miles face to reveal pure surprise at Phoenix’s request. Phoenix folded his arms, refusing to break eye contact. 

“What are you up to, Wright?” Miles finally spoke, “First you almost get killed, then you go out of your way to get Maya a not guilty verdict, you steal from us but claim it’s for some greater reason, and now you’re, what, looking into a girl from a case I worked on years ago? What’s your plan here?”

“It’s not anything you need to worry about. I’m going to find out what happened to her one way or another, but if you’re able to help, it’d be greatly appreciated. I’ll even see what I can do to help you with this case.” Phoenix said, as if he wasn’t already planning to do everything he could to get to the truth of this case. Ms. Sent still felt innocent to Phoenix. 

“You’ve been different. Both Maya and Ray say so. And, I suppose I’ve seen some of that for myself. It… Ph… Wright, what’s happened?” Miles demanded, “What’s happened that’s made you change why wasn’t it… Why now of all times? A near-death experience what was needed to get some sense into you?” Miles’ voice raised and then he seemed to force himself to settle down again, smoothing down his trenchcoat and looking away from Phoenix. 

“Edgeworth just tell me if you know where Trucy is. Please.” Phoenix said, and Miles’ brow furrowed at the please. He still wasn’t looking at Phoenix. 

“I want access to all the evidence you’ve already gathered.” Miles said.

“Done.” Phoenix replied instantly, without hesitation. Nothing was worth more than finding Trucy. Now that it was a goal, that it seemed possible, Phoenix felt guilt rolling through him at it having taken him this long to start looking for his daughter, but he needed to find her. He’d cede anything he needs to to find her. Still, Miles hesitated a moment longer. 

“If you’re looking for her, I’d suggest going to the Rabbit Bar.” Miles said. Phoenix already had his phone out, texting the name to Klavier while Miles ducked under the police tape into the crime scene. 

“Hey, pal, what did I say?!” Gumshoe shouted.

“It’s alright,” Phoenix shouted back, “Let him have a look and answer any questions he has.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.” 

“Alright.”

Phoenix searched the bar on his phone, and for his effort was rewarded with a picture of his daughter. Hat and cape, the performer she always is, happy and healthy and alive and somewhere within reach. 

Chapter Text

“‘The Rabbit and Hare Bar’.” 

Phoenix said the full name of it out loud, committing it to memory, just as he had committed the picture of Trucy to his memory, every single detail of her face. She looked happy in the picture, but it was one of those things that he wouldn’t be able to tell for sure until he talked to her face-to-face. She was always performing, after all. 

“Mm, yes, surprised they’re letting a minor perform there. A rather nice place.” Klavier said, pulling his helmet off. Work was over and they were back at Phoenix’s house. Instead of going to the front door, Klavier led the way to the garage, teaching Phoenix the code to open it up, a simple 0003. 

“Well, Trucy is an exceptional magician. You should see her sometime, it’s really a sight and a joy to behold.” Phoenix said. As they entered the house, Wren ran right up to them, rubbing herself against their legs and purring up a storm once more. Phoenix gave her a scratch around her fluffy face. 

“Can’t say I’ve had the joy to watch any of the Gramarye’s in person, I’m afraid. I never got the chance to see her grandfather or father, and I had no idea she was performing on her own.” Klavier hummed and then showed Phoenix where he’d set the litter box and instructions on how to clean it. 

“I never saw the older generation, but there’s no way they can hold so much as a candle to Trucy!” Phoenix declared. 

He stopped short as they reached the kitchen. The bouquet of lilies, the enemy within Phoenix’s own house, was nowhere to be seen. It was like when you lost sight of a spider. The sudden lack of knowledge of the lilies’ whereabouts stirred up a well of anxiety in Phoenix’s chest. He tried not to whip his head around too noticeably looking nfor it. Klavier had mentioned that Phoenix supposedly had people come through and clean his house twice a week, maybe it’d been them? 

“Klavier,” Phoenix said, voice devoid of emotion as he slipped his hands ino the pockets of his long suit jacket, “When you came by earlier, did you see a bouquet on the counter over there? Big, beautiful, white lilies?” 

“Oh, yes, sorry, were you wanting to keep those? I threw them out for you.” Klavier said, who hadn’t stopped like Phoenix and had opened up a set of cupboards to reveal cans of cat food. 

“Why?” Phoenix asked as he walked his most casually over to the trash, looking inside. Sure enough, the white blossoms sat at the bottom, not yet even wilted. 

“When I took Wren in, I did some research to make sure I was equipped to care for a cat. Lilies are dangerously poisonous for cats, apparently. I had to throw out one in my apartment as well.” Klavier explained. Phoenix rubbed his gloved fingers against each other and then before he could freak himself out over it too much reached into the garbage and plucked one of the flowers out, twirling it by the stem. 

“That sounds about right. Do you know where I keep the plastic bags? These flowers, I need somebody to test them for me. For poison, the kind that could kill a human, not just a cat.” Phoenix explained. Klavier’s eyes narrowed. 

“I’d ask who they’re from, but I feel I already know that answer.” 

Klavier helped Phoenix root around the kitchen until they found where he kept the freezer bags, stuffing the flower in the bag with gentle care as if it was a bomb and then putting it into the fridge. Phoenix placed it into what looked to be the vegetable drawer, pulling out all the vegetables that had previously been in there and putting them in whatever place they’d fit for the time being. 

“How long have you had them?” Klavier asked. 

“A couple days,” Phoenix admitted, “I’ve meant to have somebody look them over, but I was unsure how to go about it.”

“I can take care of that for you. Say it’s for a case or something. I’m a prosecutor, and if I say it’s at your special request, I’m sure nobody will question it.” Klavier said with a nod. 

“Thanks,” Phoenix sighed. They walked into the room with the large portrait and fireplace. Phoenix tossed his suitcase onto the coffee table, kicked his boots off, and fell into the large armchair. Klavier reclined on to the sofa, “I really owe you one for all you’ve done for me, Klavier.” 

“ Nein, Herr Vogel, never forget that it is I who owe you everything. None of this would be happening to you if I hadn’t approached you.” Kalvier said with a small but ultimately sad smile. 

“Klavier, I’m an adult, I can be accountable for my own actions and choices.” Phoenix reminded him. Klavier shrugged. 

“Mm, regardless, Herr Vogel, what time do you have court tomorrow?” Klavier asked, twirling his keys around his finger. 

“Noon. Why?”

“Well, the night is still very young, ja? And ‘The Rabbit and Hare Bar’ is only, what, a couple hours away? What do you say, in the mood for a late-night drive?” Klavier suggested, sad smile morphing into a smirk. 

“Yes!” Phoenix jumped to his feet, a burst of energy at the mere idea of not having to wait to see Trucy, to see her tonight, to hold her- to h-hold her-...

Phoenix bit hard on the side of his mouth. No, he couldn’t hug her until she was out of breath, he couldn’t plant worried kisses all over her face while she laughed and begged him to get off of her. She wasn’t his daughter, she didn’t even know him. But, even then, even despite that, he still wanted to at least see her with his own eyes. She could be in danger, after all. Just because she looked okay in a promotional picture taken who knew how long ago didn’t mean she was still okay. 

“ Achtung, then we’ll head out right away! Or, after we grab some good coats.” Klavier said.

“Coats?” Phoenix repeated. Klavier nodded. 

“We’ll be taking the highway, and going at that speed the windchill becomes bitterly cold. You’ll want to get a bit more bundled up.” He advised. 

The two of them ransacked Phoenix’s closet for jackets that seemed like far too much for a Californian night but Phoenix trusted Klavier’s judgement on this. Wren mewed loudly and sadly as they left again so soon after entering, but while it might have tugged on Phoenix’s heartstrings, his daughter would come first rather than a cat he only found out he had less than a day ago. 

“Ready, Herr Vogel?” Klavier asked as the two of them climbed back onto the motorcycle. 

“Of course.”

oOo

The ride was, to put it in a single word, boring. Even as Phoenix went through scenario after scenario of how the meeting could go - a slow spiral from things going perfectly fine to finding Trucy already killed by Kristoph and being just an hour or two too late for save her - he found himself regretting there wasn’t an easier way to drive down there. Maybe they should’ve taken ‘his’ car? An idea that came to Phoenix an hour and a half too late to do anything useful with. 

The Rabbit and Hare Bar was a relatively small building, appearing even smaller from being at the base of the looming and majestic Eagle Mountain. They were some ways out of the city now, the metropolitan area giving way to nature. The last time Phoenix had been in this area, he hadn't been paying much attention to the landscape. He’d had more pressing thoughts and worries on his mind at the time, and while he was plagued with a different set this time, Phoenix did give the area a bit appreciation. 

There were a few cars parked in front of the bar, and Phoenix practically jumped off the bike as they finally came to a stop, relieved to stretch his legs. He didn’t even wait for Klavier, already rushing to the entrance of the bar. 

And when he got in, he looked over to the stage-

And saw a band setting up. 

Phoenix felt like screaming, like kicking something, looking around for the familiar blue cape and silk hat.

“Shit.” He muttered under his breath, pulling his phone out. Nowhere on the website did it say when Trucy was performing. Why had they just assumed she’d be performing today? 

“Well?” Klavier asked, coming in behind Phoenix and setting a hand on his shoulder.

“I don’t see her.” Phoenix said. He gave the room another look before heading over to the bar, flagging down the bartender, a middle-aged woman with a nametag on that read ‘Harriet’, “Excuse me, is Trucy W- the magician here tonight?” 

“Ah, here to see Trucy Gramarye, are you? Afraid she only performs twice a week. If you come by tomorrow, you’ll be able to see the real bonafide Gramarye Magic in action,” Harriet said, “Anything I can get a handsome man like you tonight? We also have a great band performing, so stick around, huh?” 

“ Ach, actually, Frau , we don’t have time for drinks tonight,” Klavier said, coming right up to the count, “Die Kleine Frau Zauberin , Trucy, may be involved in a case my friend and I are investigating.” 

“Our Trucy dear? I promise you, she wouldn’t hurt a fly! Oh, is this about that incident from a while ago?” Harriet gasped.

“ Nein, nein, I promise, we aren’t accusing Frau Zauberin of murder! But I do believe my friend and I talked to one of the owners back then, a Herr Robbie, and mentioned we might need to investigate other members of the staff eventually.” Klavier said. 

“Oh, yes, of course! I think my Robbie-bunny mentioned something of the sort. He’s my husband, you know. Oh, but if you’re looking into little Trucy-”

“Not murder, I promise, just trying to tie up some loose ends. It’s more paperwork than anything. Do you know where we could find her?” Klavier was all suave, grinning at her flatteringly as he leaned ever-so on the counter. 

“Hm, well, I’m not sure how I feel just giving that information out to just anybody…” Harriet said. 

“Please, ma’am, I promise we’re only here to make sure Trucy is okay.” Phoenix promised. Harriet held Phoenix’s gaze for a moment before finally nodding. 

“Alright, alright, but it’s rather late, I hope you aren’t bothering her for no good reason. Trucy lives on Eagle mountain, this odd little place called Hazakura temple. If you follow the road up you really can’t miss it. And I want both of your names just in case something happens to that girl.” Harriet demanded. 

“ Naturlich. As we told your husband, I’m Klavier Gavin and this is Phoenix Wright.” Klavier said, even pulling out a business card from his pocket with his phone number on it. “Your help is greatly appreciated, Frau Harriet.” 

Before they got back on the motorcycle, Phoenix pulled Klavier aside. 

“We’ve been here before?” He demanded, “Why didn't you mention that before?” 

“ Es tut mir leid. I wanted us to stay focused on finding Trucy, not on the past. This was the crime scene of the Shadi Enigmar murder case.” Klavier explained. 

“... that checks out,” Phoenix admitted, “He must’ve come here hoping to find Trucy. Just like we did.”

“Which means that Kristoph may also already know where Trucy is, if he also has put together why that man showed up again after so many years.” Klavier said. 

“We need to go then. I need to know she’s okay.” Phoenix said, grabbing his helmet and beginning to put it back on. 

“Wait, Herr Vogel, first, can you tell me why you’re so worried over her? I know she could be in danger, I was the one was so suggested we come here tonight, after all, but you seem rather oddly driven over this.” 

“... she’s my daughter.”

“Your what?!” Klavier shouted, getting the attention of a couple of bar patrons leaving, and he lowered his voice considerably as he repeated, “ She’s your what?”

“My daughter. In my world, after the Gramarye trial, I adopted her. I know that here, in this reality, she’s someone else, lives with someone else, was adopted by someone else, but worrying about her, wanting to see her, needing to know that she hasn’t already died like Brushel and Zak and Drew… I’m not a robot Klavier. I can put on a good poker face maybe, but you don’t just stop being a dad just like that.” Phoenix said, not meeting Klavier’s eyes. 

“ Herr Vogel, Phoenix,” Klavier put his hands on Phoenix’s shoulders, “She’ll be alright, I promise. And we’re going to figure out a way to make sure of that. My brother’s killing spree stops at Misham.” 

“Right.” Phoenix sighed, nodding. 

The shorter ride up to Hazakura temple felt like it was ten times the length of the initial drive as well as only a fraction of a second long. It took too long and too fast to get there. That far up the mountain, it was cold, but their jackets kept them warm enough. They had to park some ways away from the temple itself and trek to the door, passing the occasional pile of snow still sticking around from winter. The dark of night gave the woods an ominous aura that make chills run up Phoenix's spine, and he ground himself clutching onto his magatama as if it would somehow protect him. Who knew, maybe it could drive off evil spirits or something in addition ot revealing secrets.  

The large doors at the front of Hazakur temple were already closed, but they’d already come all that way. Phoenix’s hand was shaking slightly, but it didn’t matter as he pounded on the thick wood. 

“Hello? Is anybody there?” He shouted. At first, there was nothing, and the pounded on it again, “Hello? Anybody home?”

“I’m coming, I’m coming, just a moment!” 

An oh-so familiar voice. 

Phoenix froze as one of the large doors slowly opened. His daughter, his little baby girl, blinked up at him, confused at first, and then breaking out into a wide and show-stopping grin.

“Mr. Feenie, back already?”

Chapter Text

“‘Mr. Feenie’?” Klavier repeated. Phoenix opened his mouth, closed it, and opened it again, unsure what to say, unsure he could say anything. If all of this has been a weird dream, that nickname coming out of his daughter’s mouth while at Hazakura Temple tipped it into nightmare area. His Trucy, his little girl, standing there in her familiar cape and silk hat with an unfamiliar yukata on, and calling him by that dreaded nickname, now so terribly steeped in poison that it was likely completely irredeemable. 

In truth, Trucy had called him Feenie once before. It was only once, during the time when the title of ‘Daddy’ still sat oddly on him, and she’d tried to come up with something else. Phoenix had told her very plainly and honestly that it wasn’t a nickname he liked and she hadn’t said it again. 

“Oh, hello there, you must be Mr. Feenie’s friend he mentioned! The musician, right? He said you were really good at singing. Maybe you could sing in one of my shows sometime.” Trucy said, hopping slightly with her hands behind her backs. 

“Trucy, who is it?” 

Before Klavier could form any answer to Trucy’s request, and while Phoenix was still trying to find words to any of this, the gate opened further to reveal a woman. She looked to be about Phoenix’s age, dressed in a thick kimono. Most of her hair was pulled up into a sort of bun with sections of the hair pulled around to look like petals and give the hair over-all a floral shape. One large section of her bangs swooped over one of her eyes before joining the rest.

“Oh, Mr. Wright, we weren’t expecting you back so soon!l” The woman gasped. Phoenix recognized the voice, and he saw the words come out of her mouth, but it still took his brain a moment to completely catch up.

“Iris?” He said, more of a whisper than anything. The woman nodded. 

“Yes?”

“Sorry, it’s, uh, it’s… can we talk to you, for a moment?” Phoenix asked. Trucy was still looking up at him with curiosity. Her head tilted to the side and Phoenix caught how her eyes darted to his hands where he was scratching at his wrist. He stuck his hands into his pockets, mentally cursing himself for letting his tells bubble to the surface again. 

“Oh, of course! Please, come in, it’s awful late. I’ll have Sister Bikini start setting up a room for the both of you right away.” Iris said as she beckoned them inside of the gate, closing it behind them. 

“ Ach, that won’t be-” Klavier started but Trucy grabbed his hand, pulling him along.

“You’re lucky, you know! We made way too much dinner tonight! We keep thinking Vera is going to eat so much more, because she’s a whole other mouth to feed, but she doesn’t really eat that much, or talk that much, but she totally makes up for it by being the best audience in the world." Trucy chirped.

“V-Vera?! As in Vera Misham?!” Klavier exclaimed. 

Both Iris and Trucy stopped dead in their tracks to the point that Klavier nearly ran right into Trucy. Iris’ placed her hands behind her back, her resemblance to her twin never before sharper and clearer as her expression turned cold, regarding Klavier, eye flicking over to Phoenix only on occasion. Trucy has let her arms fall to her side, cape falling to cover most of her and face becoming similarly poker-face blank. 

“You didn’t know Vera was here, then? Mr. Wright hadn’t already told you?” Iris asked, voice even and betraying nothing. 

“I was getting around to it. First, I wanted to talk to you,” Phoenix stepped forward, his own poker face on, “Klavier and I are working together.” He assured them, while internally he was also trying to reconcile all the information that was being thrown at him. 

“You were?” Iris repeated, looking Phoenix’s face over for a moment and then glancing over at Trucy, who gave a small shake of her head. 

“Wait, uh, please, I swear we can explain, can Klavier and I just talk to you for a moment?” Phoenix nearly begged before they were kicked back out after being caught in a lie. He turned to Trucy, looking her in the eyes as he said, “I promise, we aren’t going to hurt anybody here. We just want you all to be safe.” 

He held her gaze for a moment as she looked him over, no doubt trying to find any tells, any ways to prove that he was lying about any part of that. Finally, at long last, she broke into a smile again, bouncing happily.

“Well, I trust Mr. Feenie, Mommy.” Trucy chirped, turning to Iris. Iris’ face softened again. Phoenix barely stopped himself from screaming out ‘mommy?!’ He was dying to know what this was all about, what had happened here, what was going on, but he also didn’t want to burden Trucy with this whole situation. 

As they entered the temple, Iris sent Trucy off to get Bikini to prepare a room and find Vera and then led them to into a side room. She shut the door behind them and sat down at the low table in the center of the room, folding her hands on her lap and gesturing for them to sit as well. 

“Has it gotten worse, then? Are you going to need to move Vera again?” Iris sighed.

“She’s really here, then? She wasn’t killed by mein Bruder?” Klavier asked, sitting forward. Iris nodded. 

“Yes. I would’ve thought that Mr. Wright would’ve told you before coming all the way here.” She said, looking over to Phoenix. Phoenix took in a long and grounding breath. 

“Actually, Iris, I wouldn’t be able to tell him. About a week ago, I was fished out of Gourd Lake. My memory of the week before then is completely gone. Klavier and I have been trying to figure out what our next move is, but now I’m starting to think we might have overlooked the importance of finding out what moves I’ve already taken. Up until a few minutes ago, we both thought that Vera had been killed already, her body just not found yet.” Phoenix explained. Iris blinked in surprise and then concern creasing her face as she leaned forward, her single visible eye looking him over. 

“Oh my, are you okay? We don’t get much news up here, I had no idea!” Iris said. 

“I don’t think the incident was covered much by the media anyway. But it would help us out a lot if you could tell us anything I said or did while here before.” Phoenix said. 

“Yes, of course, anything I can do to help,” Iris nodded. She closed her eye for a moment as she recalled what had happened, “About two weeks ago, you came here with Vera Misham. It was late at night and storming. Trucy let you both in, having just come home from one of her shows. You talked to me and Sister Bikini, explaining that you’d come here because you didn’t know where else to go. You explained that Vera’s father had just been murdered and that she would undoubtedly be the main suspect. However, you were much more worried that the man you believed to have killed her father would try to kill her as well, and you needed somewhere safe for her to stay, somewhere he hopefully wouldn’t think of. We agreed to take care  of her.” 

“Well, that explains one thing. I’m relieved to find out that she’s alived.” Klavier sighed in relief. 

“And it’s good to see you are alright as well,” Iris said, smiling, “Mr. Wright seemed rather worried about you while he was here, his partner with whom he was investigating with.”

“ A-ach, he was worried about me?” Klavier looked like he was wrestling with his own facial muscles to keep his smile from becoming much wider, “It’s nice to know he was still thinking about me.”

“So, is that all you needed? To find out why you came up here a couple weeks ago?” Iris asked. Phoenix shook his head.

“If only that we’re it. Actually, we came up here to make sure that Trucy was still alive.”

“Trucy?!” Iris leaned forward.

“We have reason to suspect that mein Bruder may have reason to try and kill Trucy as well.” Klavier admitted.

“What- but, why my little Trucy?!” Iris demanded. 

“Did I tell you anything about this murderer we’ve been trying to catch?” PHoenix asked. Iris shook her head.

“You were rather sparse on details, although I’ve gathered that your friend here is his brother.” 

“Well, this man’s pattern has specifically been killing people who were involved in the Gramarye case from seven years ago. He’s killed the reporter, the forger, and Zak himself, but we’re sure he isn’t done just yet. That puts both Vera and Trucy in danger.” Phoenix explained. Iris’ face hardened with resolved as she nodded.  

“I see. Alright then, we’ll be careful. The gates stay shut from now on, trips to the inner temple are done only in groups and hoods need to be worn any time they’re outside. No more shows until the brother has been placed behind bars. Perhaps I’ll even see if somebody down in Kurain would be able to keep an eye on them, put them further from where he might suspect if he finds out that Trucy has been living here,” Iris stated, quickly adapting to the new information, “Mr. Wright and… I’m sorry, what was your name again?”

“Klavier Gavin.”

“Mr. Wright and Mr. Gavin, if you’re so sure that Mr. Gavin’s brother is the one behind all of these killings, how come he’s still at large?” 

“Unfortunately, Kristoph is a man who has a lot of connections and is good at covering his tracks. We have no solid evidence that could prove Kristoph is related to the case at all. Trying to reveal that these murders are tied to the Gramarye case might even place the wrong people under suspicion. We need to work carefully, but this does feel like it’s coming to a head. Hopefully you won't have to be watching over your shoulders for too long.” Phoenix said. He didn’t wish seven years of fear on anybody.

“I see. I wish you both the best of luck, especially when dealing with a legal system as broken as ours. Is there anything else I can do to help?”

"Actually, yes. I have reason to believe that Vera was given a nailpolish years ago which contains a deadly poison. If you see her usuing a bottle that features a hand as the cap, please, dispose of it, or at least stop Vera from using it," Phoenix requested. Iris nodded, "And thank you again for watching her." 

“Of course. It’s not even a question of if I would, Mr. Wright. I know the importance of going to lengths to protect those who are innocent and important to you, of finding justice where you can even if the law doesn’t agree.” 

There was a knock on the screen door and then it was yanked open, revealing Trucy standing there with Vera Misham behind her. 

“Bikini is heating up dinner right now! She’s so excited to see Mr. Feenie again and meet his hot friend.” Trucy reported in. Vera peeked over Trucy’s shoulder to look at them before seeming to try and hide once more behind the shorter girl. 

“You keep saying ‘Bikini’ like it’s a name…” Klavier noted. Phoenix shook his head.

“Trust me, whatever you’re envisioning is wrong.” 

oOo

Klavier and Phoenix tried to leave after the extremely-late dinner, but Iris, Trucy, Bikini (who had flirted with Klavier the entire meal), and even Vera insisted that it was much too late to be driving, especially down the winding mountain road, and the two of them should just stay the night. They relented. 

Klavier entertained the group, playfully flirting back with Bikini, admiring Vera’s art, praising the meal, talking to Trucy about entertaining and the possibility of, once this was all over, taking her up on her offer to perform together. It let Phoenix be quiet, picking up all the strange mannerisms of Trucy, watching the way Iris could comb her hand through the girl’s hair easily, with so much familiarity, like he so much wanted to. 

He watched as afterwards, Iris kissed Trucy’s forehead before sending the girl off to bed and placed her hand on Vera’s shoulder, saying something to the girl that Phoenix couldn’t hear, and he watched as still-shy Vera initiated a hug between the two of them and then followed after Trucy. 

Bikini had led them to their room for the night, and Phoenix had laid there with his eyes closed, unable to get a second of sleep, for what felt like an hour before finally giving up and deciding a walk around the temple might help calm him down. Nerves, he told himself, considering what had happened last time he’d tried to sleep in this temple. 

He went out into the courtyard, the clean and clear mountain air almost seeming to taste different with the night mixed in, and found Iris sitting right by the statue of Ami Fey. One of her hands was tracing along the length of shichishito’s blade. She looked lost in thought, and Phoenix almost left her to it, but she saw him first and beckoned him over. 

“Bad things always happen to the best of people, don’t they? No matter your intention, or what you do, or how you try to be better, the bad things always come.” Iris said, voice soft and quiet among the evening chirping of crickets. 

“That’s been my experience.” Phoenix admitted. Iris gave him a sad smile. 

“So I’ve heard. Miles and Maya have mentioned your before. I was so surprised when you first showed up here, when you said your name, I almost didn’t believe it. You’re a lot like they said you were, but also so very different.” She said. 

“So you do know them.” He said. Iris nodded. 

“If you’re worried that I told them about Vera, don’t be. We’re not very close, not since I, well, killed Maya’s mother. Ah, don’t give me that look, there’s much more nuance to the story than it might seem. If nothing else, don’t you feel better knowing that a woman with a death on her record will go to any lengths to protect the two girls in there?” Iris asked him with that same soft and sad smile Phoenix knew so so well.

“I… perhaps it’s a bit more comforting than I’d like to admit,” He said. He could only imagine how the events of Hazakura temple had played out here, if Iris had been found guilty for killing Misty Fey, “If you don’t mind me asking... Trucy, she called you, well, ‘Mommy’.” 

“Yes, she does that. I think I’m the closest thing she’s ever really had to a mother. Miles, Maya, and Mia don’t ask me for much often, but seven years ago, they asked if I’d be willing to take in a girl here until her father showed back up. Of course I agreed, but due to my record, I had to ask Sister Bikini to step in and do all the paperwork in my stead. I’m guessing you’ve seen those when you were looking for Trucy? Sister Bikini’s legal name?”

“That does answer some questions I’ve had since coming here.” Phoenix confirmed. 

“Mmm, yes, then could you answer a question for me?” Iris ran a hand through her hair, in doing so brushing up the part of her hair and revealing a long scar over that half of her face, over her milky-white and unseeing eye, “Why do you try to do this on your own?” 

“... what?”

“Even your friend there, Mr. Gavin, is out of the loop. I understand not trusting the law system, or at least not trusting it just yet with what you have, but is there truly nobody else you can turn to? Can you not ask more of them?” 

“... I need to do what has to be done to keep those I care about safe.” Phoenix said. Iris grabbed his arm, causing him to flinch. 

“But what about you? What would they think if something had happened to your safety?” Iris begged.

Phoenix thought about the Miles here, the Maya, about Klavier and Franziska nd Von Karma. 

He didn’t answer her. She let go of his arm.

“Promise me you won’t throw your life away.” 

Phoenix opened his mouth, but nothing came out. She looked at him sadly as she stood up and walked back into the temple. 

He looked up at the stars, so crystal-clear so far up in the mountains. A few minutes later, he returned to his room and went to bed. 

oOo

He’d climbed out of bed, bleary-eyed, a siren-song of desperation. 

Magatama the only thing he took with him.

A bike-ride down empty nighttime streets. 

Taking a hold of a ragged rope. 

A promise made.

A deal traded. 

A deep exhaustion setting in as he continued to hold the rope.

Chapter Text

Phoenix didn’t sleep well that night. He felt he’d had a dream, or a nightmare, or something of the sort, but the details of it slipped through his fingers like sand, just leaving behind the vague impression of exhaustion and holding onto something tightly, a feeling that persisted even when Phoenix opened his clenched-fist of a hand. It was far too early in the morning considering how late he’d been awake, but no matter how he tossed and turned, he couldn’t fall back asleep. 

This time, when he went out into the courtyard, there wasn’t anybody there, and he took the spot that Iris had been sitting the night before, letting his thoughts drift about, trying to recount his dream. All he got for his effort was the lapping of waves that sent a chill down his spine. 

“Oh, Mr. Feenie, there you are!”

Phoenix flinched, turning quickly to see Trucy approaching him. She was wearing the white hazakura hood this time, and dressed in nice and comfortable looking pajamas. 

“Sorry, do you need me?” Phoenix asked. 

“Only if you want breakfast!” Trucy chirped.

“Breakfast?”

“Of course! What kind of hosts would we be if we didn’t provide breakfast?” Trucy asked and then leapt forward, grabbing Phoenix’s hand and pulling him back towards the temple. 

“A pretty bad one I guess.” Phoenix mumbled, staring at Trucy’s hand wrapped in his own. She didn’t have her gloves on yet, and he could feel her callouses. Her hands were always rougher than people expected. Were the callouses even the same here? Were her performances the same? Did she know the same tricks? Has she learned new ones, or created ones that his Trucy would never even imagine? 

He ground to a stop just before they went through the door, still staring down at his daughter’s hand holding on to his. Trucy stopped as well, looking back at him with with curiosity.

“Is everything alright, Mr. Feenie?” 

“Do you think you could just call me-” Dad, Daddy, Papa, anything, please Trucy look at me and have recognition flash in your eyes and throw your arms around me and tell me you missed me, or that this was all a big joke, or just- “Phoenix, or Mr. Wright, or something else? I don’t like the name Feenie.” He said. Trucy lifts a hand to her mouth in surprise.

“Oh! I’m so sorry! I had no idea. You seemed to like it the last time you came up, although you were a little busy at the time I guess. How about… Nick? Would Nick be okay?” Trucy offered. Phoenix smiled lightly.

“Yeah, Nick would be perfect.”

“Alrighty, Nick it is then!” Trucy tugged on his hand again, ready to get to breakfast, but Phoenix still didn't move. 

“Trucy, can I ask you something really quick?” 

“Sure!” Trucy chirped. Phoenix felt a sudden, almost overwhelming sense of relief when he picked up on her own hesitance. Very well hidden, but it was an immense comfort to know that he still knew her at least this much, at least to be able to know how she’s feeling. It meant that this next part, Phoenix would be able to know if it’s the truth or not. 

“Are you happy, here?” 

She looked at him, eyes darting over his face and hands, looking over every inch of him for a tell, for a hint of where this was coming from, for a way to piece together why he’s asking her this. Phoenix didn’t know how to say any of this, how to explain this burning need to know that she’s okay, that him leaving this mountain without her isn’t abandoning her, isn’t leaving her in a bad situation, or with the possibility she might die. He was going to have to put his faith in Bikini and Iris to know what was best to do, what measures to take to make sure their two wards stayed alive until he and Klavier figured this out. 

“Of course I am!”

And now Phoenix looked at her, his turn to try and find tells, to try and find a lie. He doesn’t want to find one, he tells himself, and ignores the small voice in the back of his head that wanted so desperately to try and fit her on Klavier’s motorcycle and drive back to his house, a house she never had at home but more than deserved. 

He doesn’t find anything but honesty, anything but really meaning that she’s happy here, maybe she even loves it here. Maybe a big temple to run around in was just what a Trucy Gramarye needed growing up, and a loving mom and aunt figure, and a place at the bottom of the mountain to perform.

“Good,” He said, and then reaffirms, “Good. If you ever need anything. And I mean ever, and anything, you can call me and I’ll come and help, okay? I didn’t give you my number last time, did I? Here, let me get you my number.”

Phoenix fumbled through the pockets of his suit coat jacket until he found a scrap of paper and pen, jotting down his number, and then crossing it out and pulling out his phone to remember what phone number he had in this place. Trucy took the piece of paper, looking like she only glanced at it before pocketing it, but Phoenix knew her to be sharp and fast. She probably already had it memorized. 

“Are you okay, Nick?” Trucy asked. Phoenix gave his best smile.

“Yeah, don’t worry about it. Everything is going to work out.”

He could see in her eyes she didn’t believe him, but she didn't press the issue either. Instead, she just once again pulled him towards the temple, and this time Phoenix let her. 

Breakfast was a quick, but nice, affair. Phoenix once again braided Klavier’s hair, and Iris remarked that it came out quite nice and then showed Phoenix how to recreate the style her hair was in, using Vera as an example. Phoenix got lost half-way through the demonstration but continued to make listening sounds, watching Iris’ fingers thread through the black strands of hair and pulling it up. Vera kept touching the hairstyle afterwards, expression rather blank but sketchbook flipped open to a smiling face.

“If something happens, anything, please keep us updated.” Phoenix implored upon Iris, who had walked with the two of them back to Klavier’s motorcycle. 

“Of course, and please, do the same for us.” Iris bowed to him. Phoenix nodded. 

It’s a long way back to Phoenix’s house, which Klavier swung by so that they could grab their briefcases with their case notes and such, feed Wren, and have Klavier take the lilies out of the fridge to get tested. Klavier had a crime scene to investigate while Phoenix was in court, and during that time he’d hand them over to some forensics people to inspect. 

Phoenix sat in the prosecutor’s lobby, the lack of sleep already weighing on him as he went through his notes. Ms. Durn stabbed through the back, Ms. Sent’s fingerprints brings on the blade and hands with blood on them. Phoenix had written up his opening statement, the black letters on white paper glaring up at him, a statement he didn’t believe to be the truth. It didn’t matter, he reminded himself. This was just the first step, and the defense attorney would be in charge of revising it and changing that narrative until it was nothing but the truth. 

“S-Phoenix,” Phoenix blinked and shook his head, refocusing at Gumshoe’s voice, “It’s time for the trial.” 

“Right.” Phoenix stood up, adjusting his papers into a stack once more. Gumshoe carried the evidence in for Phoenix as they entered the courtroom, arranging the things onto the table in a neat and orderly fashion. Only once that was all ready did Phoenix look up, and there was Miles Edgeworth, just like he knew he would be, but it was still so reassuring to know that this would be handled by somebody he knew wouldn't’ give up until the real murderer was found, that Ms. Sent was declared innocent. 

Oddly enough, however, Maya wasn’t with Miles. Instead, the defense attorney Phoenix had faced in his previous court case was standing cocouncil. Phoenix tried to recall his name. Wasn’t it… something Shields? 

“The trial of Ms. Emma Sent starts now. Defense, are you ready?” The Judge asked. 

“Yes, your honor.” 

“And the Prosecution?” 

“Yes, your honor.”

“Alright then, Prosecutor Wright, please tell us your opening statement.” 

oOo

Phoenix was unsurprised, if a little disappointed, that a verdict wasn’t able to be called that day. Miles was able to prove that, due to the blood on the victim’s neck, Ms. Sent must’ve check for a pulse. The fact that Ms. Sent was found crying helped her case, and Mr. Davis’ testimony revealed that he hadn’t atually witnessed the moment of the murder. And then there was the matter of the blood found on the balcony railing. Of course, Phoenix’s insistence that they give another day to look probably helped. He didn’t want to be the reason someone was wrongfully convicted. 

While Miles himself seemed focused on the case, Shields was preoccupied with writing down a lot of notes while Phoenix was objecting and presenting things. At first, he thought it was to do with the case, but considering how little Miles referred to whatever it was Shields was writing, Phoenix began to doubt that theory. 

Gumshoe drove him back to the prosecutor’s office, where Phoenix documented what had happened that day in court and made a list of things he’d want to investigate tomorrow. Ms. Durn’s other neighbor had yet to be investigated, so that was a place to start, and of course a more thorough investigation of the balcony would be necessary. 

“ Ach, gut, you’re back.” Klavier slipped into Phoenix’s office, plopping down onto a chair, “I trust your case went well then? Did you win?” 

“The case is getting a second trial day. I haven’t won, but this isn’t really a case I plan to. Call it intuition. How was your murder scene?” Phoenix asked. 

“Death was by strangulation, so the scene itself wasn’t terribly messy at least. The police were willing to take a look at your lilies, especially once I mentioned that it’d put them in your favor for having done so, and we should get results by tomorrow.” Klavier said. 

“Thank you again for that.” Phoenix said.

“No need to thank me.” Klavier insisted, but there was something about his tone that stopped Phoenix from getting back to work. Klavier had an odd look in his eyes that made PHoenix furrow his brow. 

“... is everything alright, Klavier?” 

“Can I ask you a question, and get an honest answer from you?” Klavier asked a little quickly. 

“You just asked me a question.” Phoenix said and Klavier rolled his eyes. 

“ Ja, but a different question.” 

“Go for it.” 

“Well, you see, the victim from my case today, he was strangled by a rope, hung in his own room. We have reason to believe it wasn’t just a suicide, of course, but the possibility of it being a suicide can’t be ignored. And… the suicide angle is not one that has been considered in your case yet.” Klavier said. He was looking resolutely at a corner of the room, away from Phoenix. 

“The Miri Durn case?”

“ Nein, I mean your case, Herr Vogel. Do you think it’s possible… that you drowned yourself?” 

A silence stretched between them.

“... what reason would I have to kill myself?” 

“... we’ve been working on mein Bruder’s investigation for years. Perhaps it went on too long for you. But you wouldn’t just leave me, would you? Without telling me first? Without trying everything in your power to stay?” Klavier begged. Phoenix didn’t have an answer for him. 

“I… I don’t know. There’s… I don’t think he’d do something like that. I don’t want to think he would.” But Phoenix couldn't say that he never would, because hadn’t there been times over his own past few years where the endless oblivion of death had been a siren song on the edge of his world, with only Trucy seeming to tether him to reality at times? 

“Fuck.” Klavier grit out, “Fuck, this is… Herr Vogel, we can’t keep doing this. It’s putting too much stress on you, and on me, and we can’t keep this up with just the two of us. We’ve been at this for years, we should just-”

“No!” Phoenix shot up, slamming his hands on the table, heart racing all of a sudden. Klavier jumped at the sudden action.

“Herr Vogel-”

“It’s not ready yet! We don’t have enough proof against Kristoph to even think about turning this over to the police!” Phoenix insisted. 

“Well we’re not making any progress as we’ve been working!” Klavier snapped back, standing up himself now and glaring. 

“But Kristoph has been making more moves recently, he’s bound to be getting sloppy-”

“And the police are better at finding those kind of details than we are!”

“Not necessarily, especially not if Kristoph has those policemen in his pocket.”

“Then we put Gumshoe on it.”

“Gumshoe isn’t the highest authority at the police station, Kristoph could stop him from doing something useful.” 

“Maybe mein Bruder is a murderer, but what about you, Phoenix? Is all of this worth your own life?” Klavier reached over the desk and grabbed onto the front of Phoenix’s shirt, dragging him so that their faces were close and Phoenix was forced to make eye contact. Klavier looked desperate. 

“Your brother isn’t just a murderer, Klavier, at this point he’s basically a serial killer! Are you suggesting that letting him go, letting him get away with the hell he’s been causing, is the right thing to do here?” Phoenix argued.

“No! But why does it have to be this way? Why does it have to just be the two of us against the world, why can’t we have any help?” 

“Because this whole damn system is flawed and corrupt and-” And he might go after you next, and especially if he realizes you know, if he realizes that you’re onto him, and I don’t want to risk you, Klavier, I can’t risk your life. I can gamble with my own life, that’s my choice, but you’re something different.

But the words get caught and jumbled in Phoenix’s throat, so much like sharp glass shards slicing his esophagus open. That felt like showing too much of his hand, being too open, too honest. After everything Phoenix had been willing to tell Klavier and confide in the man, the idea of saying something more was terrifying.

“Even now, you’re still set on this? Is there anything you trust anymore?” 

“... I trust you, Klavier, isn’t that enough?”

“I don’t think it is.” 

Klavier let go of Phoenix, pushing him away and shaking his head. 

“You should go home. I think I’ll say here and work for the night.” Phoenix said, grabbing his arm and looking away from Klavier. Klavier didn’t give a verbal answer, but he did stomp out of the room and slam the door behind him. Phoenix fell into his chair, raking a hand down his face. He felt so tired, right down to his bones. He wanted nothing more than to sleep right now, sleep for a million years, to maybe never wake up again.

Phoenix tried to continue working on his case, but he found his eyelids growing heavier, his focus unable to stay on the words on the page and thinking about the fight he’d just had. Did Klavier have a point? The idea of involving anybody else made Phoenix want to scream. He pulled out his magatama, eyes closed but finger gently tracing the smooth and cold surface of the gem, one of the so very few comforts he had here. 

As he felt himself drifting off, a voice he always seemed to hear in his dreams, especially in times like this, when he was troubled, when he needed help, eased through the fuzziness in his head. 

“You know, that was my mother’s magatama.”

Chapter Text

Phoenix’s head lolled to the side, eyes fluttering open for a brief moment to glimpse Mia’s silhouette, the edges glowing and shining ethereally. He let his eyes slide closed again, wanting to stay in this place between waking and sleeping where she could be here, where he could hear her voice again.

“I thought it might be something like that.” Phoenix mumbled. His hand was still resting on the magatama, still uncharged under his fingertips. 

“... really?” 

“The way you reacted when you thought you lost it… it was clearly important to you, more important than your purple one.”

Phoenix could remember when Maya had given him the magatama, the precious green charm. She’d been allowed to keep it on her person at the detainment center as it held such religious importance, but then she’d handed it over to him, an odd sad look in her eyes as she’d done so. He’d offered to give it back to her afterwards, but she insisted he hold onto it and make use of it. He’d wondered about it sometimes, what it meant that something that had been Mia’s, then Maya’s, that had clearly held some kind of significance to them, was now his and that he was allowed to keep it. The confirmation that it was like a family heirloom… he was glad he got the magatama back, even if it couldn’t be used to see psyche-locks right now. 

“And you still have it.”

“Of course,” Phoenix’s fingers skittered across the wood of the desk, pulling the magatama into his hand fully, holding it in a fist, “Chief, I wouldn’t lose it for the world .” 

“... Wright, what are you up to?” 

“God, Chief, if I knew, I’d tell ya,” Phoenix sighed. He drew his fist, and with it the magatama, right next to his face, “I’m just… I think I’m scared, Chief? That I’ll never get home, or that somebody I love is going to die. I’m worried about Trucy, and Miles, and Klavier, but I just… I can’t seem to find it in me to be worried about myself, you know? Worried about just me, outside of the context of other people. What if… what if Klavier is right? What if the me here, what if he just… what if… Mia, is he there, with you?” 

Phoenix cracked his eyes open again, the phantom form of Mia closer now but still just a dark shadow surrounded by a corona of light. He wished she was really here. These times when he could see her, either in dreams or in exhausted hallucinations or whatever, he cherished them as much as he could. Mia was dead and officially laid to rest after the events of Hazakura Temple, and the pain of her passing hadn’t truly seemed to set in until weeks afterwards, like he’d been stuck at the start of the mourning process for three years and only just got to the true grief. 

He never knew whether this version of her was real or a figment of his imagination, but he let himself believe that maybe it was truly Mia, still watching him, still willing to help him however she could. 

“... Wright, are you… alright?” 

“‘Wright’, ‘Alright’, Trucy would like that one.” Phoenix mumbled, eyes sliding shut again, letting himself sink further into the comfortable fog of sleep. His talks with Klavier and Iris, however, kept nagging at him, keeping him from completely slipping away. He roused himself just enough, trying to maintain that liminal space, “Chief am I… do I need help?”

“Of course you do.” She said, quickly, in an odd tone that made Phoenix hesitate. He forced himself to continue, however. 

“Should I be getting more people to help Klavier and I? I just… I had such a hard time trusting at home, even those I knew, those I loved… how am I supposed to find it in myself to trust anybody from here, people I barely know? Not even Miles…”

“Miles? What about him?” Mia sounded even closer now. 

“He’s… he’s so different. I think he might hate me. But he’s good, he seems like a  good person… but he doesn’t trust me, and I can’t trust him…” Phoenix cracked his eyes open once more. Mia’s silhouette was standing almost completely over him now, “And even Maya, and-and Mia, I’m willing to bet even you,” And he reached out, ready to destroy this illusion of company, of care, of love, and be met with the harsh reality of his own loneliness. 

His fingers brushed against skin. 

At first, it didn’t entirely register, Phoenix thrown off-kilter, like missing a step on the stairs. He reached forward again, and once again was met with the warmth of another living being. Still, the fog of sleep not yet entirely dissipated from his head, he inched his fingers even further to the other ones, starting to intertwine his and Mia’s-

Mia’s-

Mia’s very much solid and living fingers.  

Phoenix fell backwards, chair toppling over with the force he threw himself back and away from the person. He scrambled to get to his feet, feeling like he’d just been struck by lightning, all-too awake now. 

The woman before him had no heavenly and powerful glow to her - it was just the light from the hallway behind her. Her features were not completely gone, just obscured by the harsh shadows. And Phoenix knew, with a sudden and almost all-encompassing certainty, that this figure he’d just been trying to cry his heart out to, this shoulder he’d been trying to lean against, wasn’t who he’d thought it was, wasn’t the trustworthy mentor he knew. This was a stranger. 

“Ms. Fey,” Phoenix choked out, shoving the magatama into his pocket, “I thought you were, uh, on a leave of absence. Or something. Like that.” 

“I’ve been busy in Khura’in. Was it too much to hope that you knew that?” Mia sighed. Because it was Mia, it was Mia Fey, defense attorney, alive, living, standing in front of him. 

“And now you’re here. In LA. In my office. Way past office hours.” Phoenix spelled out the situation, much more for his own benefit than for Mia’s. The room suddenly felt far too small, the walls far too close to him, trapping him in here with this woman who he wanted to hold and hug and talk to and ask a million questions of, but that he knew nothing about, that knew nothing of him, of who he really was. 

“I came for the Judicial Conference. I’ve been in and out of small little meetings and such all day. But Maya was catching me up on some of the things that have been happening recently - especially her lasted murder accusation - and I must say, I was surprised. And Maya may trust you, but you have a long way to go to earn that kind of thing from me, and I won’t let my family just be strung along and played with by you. So I came to ask for our magatama back.” 

“My magatama.” Phoenix corrected. 

“No, the Fey’s magatama. My mother’s magatama, passed down to me before she left, then to Maya before I left to Khura’in for the first time. But… but what they’ve been saying about you seems to be right. There is something different about you, isn’t there.” Mia’s face, still so hard to see the details of in the dark, tilted to the side in curiosity. The darkness was like a painful bandaid, obscuring Mia’s features and making it that much harder to see the differences between this Mia and the one he knew.  

The off-kilterness hadn’t left him, and the feelings rolling around his stomach and head, making his heart pound too fast and too loudly, were all too familiar. He felt cornered, and he felt betrayed. It was his fault, perhaps, for believing it to be Mia, but she’d also just slipped into his room. Had she knocked? Had she planned to just steal his magatama from him? 

There was only one exit to his office, and it was past Mia. 

“Get out,” Phoenix said, low and quietly at first, and then again, “Get out of this office, Chief, I-I can’t do this right here, right now.” 

“... you’re still calling me ‘chief’,” Mia pointed out. Phoenix’s heart drummed in his ears, “I thought that perhaps it was just you confusing me for somebody, but you clearly know who I am. Maya, Miles, and Ray were all saying you’ve apparently been having problems with your memory-”

“I can’t do this right now!” Phoenix repeated, almost shouting now. Mia’s face might have shifted into surprise at his reaction, but Phoenix was busy hopping over his desk and running past her.

“Wh- Wright!”

Mia called after him, but Phoenix was already sprinting to the stairwell, almost tripping down the stairs. 

He just-

He just needed-

He just needed to get away, to run away, to be away from it all. 

How often had Phoenix wanted to do this? To swing open the door to his office and take off down the street, running until his legs were burning and his lungs ached, and then his office and his past and Phoenix Wright - student, murder suspect, attorney, piano player, poker champion, a man with some epithet or other that tried to define him and give him meaning - was far far behind him. There’d been things holding him back from doing that before, things that kept him going, that kept him from oblivion, from sinking too low, from his head being pulled beneath the surface.

Now, Phoenix had nothing, didn’t he?

Even his one ally, his one friend, was losing faith in him, was thinking him crazy, not for his version of reality, but for his process of going about the problem with Kristoph.

But Klavier just didn’t get it! He didn’t understand what it was like to have dinner once a week with the man for seven years, fearing for your own life and the life of your daughter for seven years, what it felt like to see that man’s crosshairs turned onto people you cared about - even if those people didn’t care about you - and knowing that if you didn't work quick and soon, they might be gone forever. 

“O-oh, Prosecutor Wright!”

The receptionist made a surprised sound as Phoenix ran past her, bursting through the doors and onto the street. It was night, street lights gleaming humbly in the dark. The road was empty, desolate, the world quiet and tucked away into buildings, away from Phoenix. He kept running, putting distance between himself and that terrible building. It a depressingly short amount of time before Phoenix, gasping for air, collapsed onto the sidewalk. He laid down, looking up at the sky, the stars killed by light pollution.

“Mia…” 

She’d been right there.

He’d touched her hand. 

And it hadn’t been her at all.

Phoenix’s chest spasmed once, then twice, and then he began to sob. Full blown tears streaking down his face, gushing out with reckless abandon and no mind keeping any sort of composure or appearance. He dried them with the sleeves of his damn suit coat that wasn’t really his. He wasn’t sure how much time passed of him lying there, crying on a random filthy street corner, all alone. 

An eternity later, his tears ran dry. His face still felt flushed and raw, and he was tired, exhausted, and hollow. But he was in control of himself again, the rampant feelings and vulnerability that he’d accidentally exposed to the Mia Fey of this world underwraps once more. 

Phoenix climbed to his feet, looking around. He was fairly sure he knew where he was. It would be easier to head back to the Prosecutor’s office and follow through with his original plan of sleeping in his office, but he didn’t fancy even the chance of running into Mia again. It’d take a while, but he could probably get back to the house. 

He had only just begun to get started walking again when he heard the car.

Phoenix squinted through the headlights as it drew closer. Had Mia perhaps chased after him? He wasn’t sure what answer he was hoping for. 

It happened so quickly, just as quickly as it had the last time.

The impact of the car almost didn’t register as Phoenix went flying through the air, taken off his feet from the force. All too soon, gravity forced him back to earth, his arm taking the brunt of the fall. Phoenix grit his teeth through the pain, forcing himself back to his feet and looking out at the street - or rather the sidewalk - and the car. With the brightness of the headlights, it was impossible to see who was inside, but it was plain to see that it was lacking a license plate. 

And it was also heading towards him again.

Phoenix’s legs were still recovering from his earlier run, but adrenaline was one hell of a drug. He darted into the nearest alley, listening to the roar of the car’s engine as he cradled his arm, pain radiating from it. He didn’t stop, running between buildings, away from a real and physical thing this time and not the abstract concept of his own self and situation. It’d actually be sort of relieving if it wasn’t also terrifying - and honestly? Frustrating - to have to try and stay alive. 

Every street, he looked for the car, sure it must still be after him. That was no accident, he was positive of that, but he didn’t know the lengths the driver would go to to try and finish what they’d started. 

Eventually, he prayed he put enough distance between the car and himself. He leaned against a wall, sliding down to sit, gulping down deep breaths of air and pulling out his phone, staring at his contact list for a long while before hitting a contact.

Please let him still be awake...

“ Herr Vogel, I am not going to-”

“Klavier, can you pick me up and take me to a hospital? I got hit by a car.”

Chapter Text

After figuring out where he was and rattling off the streets to Klavier, Phoenix stayed in the shadows of an alley. Every car that passed by made Phoenix’s heart jump into his throat as he cradled his arm to his chest. He was starting to come down from the rush of adrenaline. The pain in his arm was continuing to sharpen and forming-bruises ached across him. 

The roar of a motorcycle made Phoenix peek out from his hiding spot, and relief ran through him as from the darkness he could make out Klavier. Klavier screeched to a halt with worrying speed, practically leaping off of his bike and looking around for Phoenix. The young man was in his pajamas, face hidden behind his helmet, but Phoenix could still pinpoint the exact second that Klavier spotted him by the visible slumping of his shoulders. 

“ Mein Gott, Herr Vogel! Are you alright? Are you okay? Get on, right now, let’s go!” Klavier urged. Phoenix didn’t say anything, darting into the openness of the street and climbing on behind Klavier. He grit his teeth against the pain as he wrapped his good arm around Klavier, the broken one sandwiched between him and Klavier and a hurt grunt snaked out anyway. Klavier stilled for a moment at the sound, angling his head towards Phoenix, “Are you alright to be on here? Dammit, I should’ve grabbed your car or-”

“Doesn’t matter, I’ll be fine,” Phoenix insisted, “Let’s just get to the ER.” 

Phoenix said that and tried to ignore how much it would inevitably cost. He had money here, it was going to be fine, but even now he was tracking the route to the nice and cheap Hotti Clinic. Hell, if need be, he could always ask Mr. Eldoon to take a look at his arm or something. In fact, it really didn’t hurt all that much, he could probably just-

The motorcycle jolted over an uneven piece of asphalt and Phoenix yelped as his arm was squeezed and jostled. 

Well they were already on their way to the ER, no reason to try and stop Klavier now. 

The world blurred at the edge as Phoenix puts all of his focus onto just staying on the bike and trying to ignore the pain. It wasn’t too bad when they were still, like at a light, but any kind of pressure on it wasn’t going so great right now. He was , however, glad he hadn’t broken his ankle this time; having to awkwardly hobble his way to the clinic that time had taken a lot longer than he’d like to admit. 

When they arrived at the ER, Klavier jumped off the motorcycle with as much energy as he’d had arrived with, ripping his helmet off and bursting through the doors. 

“I-” Klavier started at full volume, but Phoenix quickly set a hand on Klavier’s shoulder, quieting him for a moment. 

“Klavier, it’s alright now,” He insisted. Klavier’s chest was moving up and down, eyes wide and scared looking. Phoenix took the lead, approaching the from desk, “Ma’am, I was hit by a car and I think my arm is broken.”

She asked him a few other questions that Phoenix answered to the best of his ability and then told him to take a seat and wait until he could be seen. Phoenix chose a terrible plastic chair to sit down in. Klavier, who had stayed standing in the doorway, fell down right next to him, head falling backwards to face towards the ceiling and eyes closed. 

“You know you don’t have to stay.” Phoenix said. Klavier shook his head.

“And how would you get home?”

“Walk.” 

“ Ja, not going to happen.”

“Klavier-”

“Is this just how it’s going to be, from now on? I take my eyes off of you for a few minutes and you almost die again?” Klavier mourned. Phoenix looked away from him. 

“... thank you for picking me up. I… I mean, obviously I didn’t set out today, meaning to be chased down by a crazy guy trying to run me over.” Phoenix grumbled. Klavier sighed.

“No, No, I know that, I just… ugh, can’t things just, return back to normal?” Klavier bemoaned. Phoenix sighed as well. 

“... if I could be the Phoenix you knew, I would be.” He said. He didn’t know if that was really true. 

“I was just… so worried about you, when you disappeared so suddenly, but you were alive! But then you’re so different, and the things I-I-... the things maybe I wish would’ve changed are just the same, just as stubborn. And now… Gott now I’m just worried about something else happening to you.” Klavier admitted.

“I’m sorry.” 

“No, there’s, there’s nothing for you to be sorry about. I mean, I was the one who left you tonight knowing full-well you had no other way to get home, and look how you ended up.” He gestured to Phoenix’s arm. 

“If I really needed a ride, I could’ve called Gumshoe. My mistakes aren’t your fault-”

“But I have to deal with the consequences! I have to deal with the fall out!” Klavier raised his voice. The receptionist and a couple of other people, who Phoenix was willing to bet had been listening in for a while now, all were now more openly staring. 

“I know, I’m sorry. I’ll be more careful, alright? I don’t want to put you through that, through losing somebody. I'm... I'm sure that at any point you've known me, I've never wanted to put you through losing somebody.”

Klavier sighed again, looking back up at the ceiling. His hair was such a mess, and Phoenix wanted to offer to re-braid it, even if it was just going to be taken out again, but until he found out how bad the damage was he didn’t really want to do any activity that was going to use his right arm. 

“I was planning to stay at the office all night,” Phoenix offered, as some kind of consolation, “You leaving wasn’t the reason I left, why I was out on the streets in the middle of the night. I… I was very surprised by finding Mia Fey in my office." 

“ Achtung, the elder Frau Geist. I figured she would be here for the conference.” Klavier nodded. 

“You keep mentioning this Judicial Conference. What’s it even about? Am I supposed to be worrying about it?” Phoenix asked. Klavier shrugged. 

“It’s a joke, everybody knows nothing is going to happen. Or, well, nothing is going to happen this time, at least. The Fey’s, however, are supposed to present a few times and explain the uses of spirit channeling and proposed methods of how it could be implemented. It wouldn't’ change the system as a whole, but it seems like they might get their way eventually. Personally, I’m not entirely sure what I think about the matter. ” Klavier shrugged. 

“Channelings, like, officially integrated into the court system?” Phoenix voiced his surprise. It was something he hadn’t ever considered. 

“ Ja. Frau Mia Fey has been studying in Khura’in while her sister has beein working on the legal work here.” 

“Mr. Phoenix Wright?” The receptionist called out, interrupting their conversation, “We can help you now.” Phoenix stood up and looked back at Klavier with a small frown. 

“You know you don’t have to stay-”

“As if I’m going to let you walk yourself home again right after you got hit by a car . Honestly, didn’t know you thought so lowly of me. That being said, I might attempt to catch a little sleep right now. Have fun.” Klavier waved Phoenix off and then tried to curl up onto the chair into a somewhat comfortable sleeping position. His height made it look more than a little ridiculous, and Phoenix stifled a laugh before being led away. 

It ended up taking a while. The doctor had to cut through Phoenix’s sleeve, as his arm had swollen from the broken bone to the point that it couldn’t be just pulled up. They had to wait for the swelling to go down, icing the injury, and Phoenix glared at the cold. The doctor asked him about what happened, and Phoenix explained being hit by the car and flung into the air. The doctor whistled in surprise, and then told a story about how someone had once come in with broken ribs from just sneezing. After the swelling went down, they took an x-ray of his arm and then, with the Doctor happily informing him that surgery wouldn’t be necessary, and everything was still in place, they put a cast on.

While they were waiting for the cast to set, the fiberglass steadily growing warmer and warmer, Phoenix’s phone rang. Phoenix looked at the time, the late hour of night, and then at the name displayed. He swallowed nervously. 

“Is it alright if I take this?” He checked with the Doctor, almost hoping the man would say no, but the Doctor nodded and so Phoenix hit the answer button. 

“...” 

“...” 

“... hello, Franziska?”

“Is that really all you have to say, Wright? ‘Hello, Franziska’? No, ' I was just about to call you’ excuse, or ‘ I’m sorry, I was busy with the minutiae of the terrible health care system in this country’, no, instead I have to hear from that foolish Prosecutor Gavin that you were hit by a car! Perhaps he’s not so foolish, or at least not as much a fool as you are, because at least he had the decency to call me and tell me what had happened, being my foolish fool of a brother hadn’t even bothered to try and contact me!” Franziska shouted and Phoenix pulled the phone away from him face, wincing at the volume. 

“I was going to,” Phoenix lied, knowing full-well he wouldn’t have. He’d forgotten completely about Franziska’s apparent close relation to him here, “But I’m actually still at the hospital getting the cast on.”

“The cast?! So it was severe?!”

“I just broke my arm - no, really, it’s fine! I’m going to be fine, Franziska!” Phoenix insisted. 

“And what sent you out in the middle of the night to run out into the middle of the street and put your life on the line - again! So close to the last time you foolishly almost died!” Franziska demanded. 

“Franziska-”

“No, no, you have that tone of voice like you’re going to say something that you think is going to get me to stop talking for a while, but I want an honest answer, Phoenix! You can’t just leave me worrying about you like this!” Her voice cracked a bit at the end there, a chink in her armor, and Phoenix winced. He was quiet for a moment, silence between them, and then admitted, 

“... I think I had a panic attack.”

“... what?” 

“There was… a ‘surprise’ at my office, and I panicked over it.” It sounded so silly and stupid put like that, and even looking back now, Phoenix felt embarrassed at having just run out on Mia like that. But in the moment, it’d felt like the only plausible thing to do in the situation. He awaited another slew of 'foolsih fool of a fool' to come at him, but instead he was greeted by a moment of considering silence. 

“Phoenix… have you been taking your Escitalopram?” 

“My what?”

“Oh please, I know . When you were missing,  I went through your things at your house trying to find clues to perhaps where you had gone. You don’t need to play stupid with me, we both know you aren’t, so just tell me straight, have you been taking your Escitalopram?” 

“... my what?” 

“Your anxiety medication, Wright!” Franziska snapped and then let out a slow breath, “Your anxiety medication that you clearly never thought to tell me about. The Von Karma creed may be ‘Perfection in Every Way’, but… but I’d rather you do what you need to in order to continue functioning than to worry about what I myself or Father might think of it.”

“... no, I haven’t been taking my meds.” Phoenix said. 

“Then do so, Wright. I do not want to have another phone call like this, or perhaps next time something worrying has happened to you, I will have had a personal hand it in.” Franziska threatened and hung up. 

“Sounds like you have somebody who worries about you.” The Doctor said. 

“Yeah,” Phoenix said, staring at his phone, “I guess I do.” 

He settled a few things at the front desk before finally going over to where Klavier was. Klavier had apparently given up at some point on only taking up space on one chair and was now sprawled out across several. Two of the people sitting in the waiting room, one with a black eye and the other with a bleeding gash across his arms, were whispering and pointing over at Klavier. Phoenix wondered whether it was because Klavier was sleeping, or perhaps they recognized him. He had no idea how popular Klavier’s band was here, or if it was even still together or not. Not that he knew much about it in his own world.

“Klavier, it’s time to go.” Phoenix informed the man, nuding Klavier into stirring awake. The prosecutor yawned and stretched, trying to rub sleep from his face. 

“ Ach, I almost wish you’d taken longer, I was having quite the good nap.” Klavier complained but stood up and followed Phoenix outside to his motorcycle. When they arrived at Phoenix's house, Klavier didn’t even ask before going inside after Phoenix and crashing on the couch. Wren hopped onto the couch after him and curled up on Klavier’s stomach. Phoenix began to turn to head to his own bed, exhausted and ready to sleep, but looked up at the picture above the mantel. The picture of this Phoenix, on his own, tired and so sad looking. 

Franziska, Klavier. Mia, Trucy, Miles, Maya.

It was easy to fall into old habits, but maybe the fomfort of knowing what you were doing wasn't worth what he didn't have, what me might even drive further away from himself.  

Phoenix sighed. He felt so tired.

“Klavier,” Phoenix said, eyes closed. Klaier gave a grunt to show he was listening, “I think… I don’t want it to just be us anymore.”

“What? Really?”

“I… maybe it’s time I face I might be here for the long-haul, and… maybe it’s time we let some more people help us out.”

Chapter Text

Phoenix had to forcibly pull himself out of bed the next morning, still tired from the late night. They hadn’t gotten back until early in the morning, and then he hadn’t slept very well as he tossed and turned, attempting to figure out a comfortable position to lie in with his cast. He hadn’t even tried to get into pajamas last night, and now he was having the very fun experience of trying to figure out how to best maneuver the cast around. Messing around with getting the usually-perfectly-fitted button-up shirt over the bulky cast was the opposite of ideal, and in the end Phoenix just grabbed the one that the doctor had already cut up and tore most of the sleeve off. He always wore those big blue dress coats anyway, he was sure nobody would notice. 

Klavier was already in the kitchen by the time Phoenix got downstairs, scrolling through something on his phone while eating a bowl of cereal. Phoenix hadn’t even know that Mr. Prosecutor Wright had cereal. It was just a little annoying that Klavier knew ‘Phoenix’s’ house better than he did. 

“ Guten morgen, Herr Vogel. The results are in.” 

“Results?” Phoenix asked, rummaging through the fridge for something to start his day off on hopefully a better note than it was already on. 

“For the lilies,” Klavier waved his phone, “The good news is that they didn’t find any poison.”

“They checked for atroquinine?” Phoenix almost snapped, but barely managed not to. 

“I’ll double check, but they did say they checked for every poison in the database. But! There is something that they found on them.” 

“Oh?” 

“ Frau Skye - she works in forensics down at the station - says there were traces of catnip, of all things, on the flowers.”

“Catnip?”

“Catnip,” Klavier confirmed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Because apparently mein Bruder has decided to try and kill animals as well as humans. It’s almost sad at this point, you know?” Klavier said, and it was unclear if he was trying to make some kind of joke about it or not. Phoenix didn’t point out that the situation had been sad the entire time. 

“He was trying to kill Wren. That’s just fucking…” Phoenix shook his head and sighed… and then paused, considering, “... unless it wasn’t so much about Wren?”

“Don’t tell me you were planning to eat the lilies.” Klavier joked.

“No, but, well, maybe it was less about killing my cat, and more about sending some kind of message to me? A threat? I mean, we know he knows we’re on to him.” Phoenix pointed out. Klavier made a ‘so-so’ movement with his hand.

“Well, not exactly? We know he probably suspects we might know something, but this is the first big thing he’d done against either of us over the past four years - couple buggings aside.” 

“Guess we need to start being more careful, then.” Phoenix sighed. 

“... does that mean you’re going back on what you said last night?” Klavier asked, face deliberately blank. 

“No, no I meant it then and I mean it now. Just, we’ll need to make sure they know just how much is going to be at stake.” Phoenix said. Klavier nodded. 

“ Ja. Who were you thinking about including?”

“The Edgeworth & Fey Law Offices. In my world, they’re some of my closest friends. I’d like them to be that again.”

“What of me, in your world?” Klavier asked, clearly attempting to be casual about it.

“I don’t know you very well, we haven’t spoken much. We met in the courtroom once, but just the once.” Phoenix said. He doesn’t say ‘I think you’re been avoiding me’, because Klavier Gavin of Phoenix’s home spends time with Apollo and Trucy and Vera - all kids who tend to hang around Phoenix’s office - but they’ve never had a chance so far to have. Klavier didn’t press further, instead saying,

“Well, if you’re trying to get the Fey’s involved, you might want to attend one of the presentations they’re giving today for the judicial conference. Or, I guess you’ll probably see Herr Edgeworth after your trial later today?” Klavier considered.

“Where are these conferences being held, anyway?” 

“Some are over at the precinct, others at the Prosecutor Office itself. I believe that’s where the Fey’s are going to be today? Ugh, I read that email so long ago…” Klavier took a minute to dig through his phone and then nodded, “ Ja, Prosecutor’s office, second floor meeting rooms. Some of the smaller rooms - it’s their first time doing something like this, they’re not expecting much of a turn out. May be worth checking out, though.” He shrugged. 

Well, it did sound interesting, Phoenix had to give him that. And maybe he’d be able to say something to Maya. Mia… he was a little less enthusiastic about the prospect of seeing Mia again, especially considering how he had absolutely run away from her just last night, but he had a chance to build a new relationship with her, with a living and breathing Mia, and he wasn’t going to let it just pass him by out of fear. 

Phoenix and Klavier left to work shortly after that - Klavier driving Phoenix’s car, in a sudden change, because Phoenix didn’t feel safe on the bike with only one arm - and Phoenix killed time in his office, looking over the evidence collected by the police from the Durn case. It was kind of nice to not have to do that all on his own, but also relying on others to have done their job right made Phoenix shift uncomfortably. Klavier texted him the times and rooms for the Fey’s thing, menting he wouldn’t be there, too busy reviewing the evidence the police had collected for his case. 

At around noon, Phoenix was finally given a good reason to step away from paperwork and reading boring reports about fingerprint analysis’ that mostly said ‘did you know Ms. Durn touched things in her own house?’ to go see what it was the Fey’s were proposing about law and channeling. A couple of the staff stared at him as he went, noticing the odd way he was holding his arm and probably catching on to the fact he’d broken it, but none of them said anything, just smiling and waving to him. He wished Von Karma was busy or out of the building or whatever more often. 

“Weeeeell, if it isn’t my faaaaaavorite prosecutor!” Phoenix blinked as he was greeted by Inspector Cabanela. The man spun around and then struck a pose, grinning at Phoenix.

“Oh, Inspector, hey.” 

“Hey yourself. Didn’t think I’d see you here. Come to be regaled by the use of spirits in the criminal justice system?” He asked. Two vaguely familiar people came up behind him, the red-head - he was pretty sure she was… Lyra? Line? Something with an ‘L’ - and the big mountain of a man that looked a bit like if Gumshoe but with blonde hair and a big old beard. 

“Aren’t you busy with cases?” Phoenix asked. 

“I could say the same about you, baby! But no, not at the moment. Haven’t gotten a new assignment yet, even with yours being an absoluuuuute dead end. Hey, don’t you worry about it, I’ll get to the bottom of it. Or I would if they’d let Jowd and Lynne work with me here, but they want to make sure it’s getting done ‘right’, and by ‘right’, clearly the team they’ve given me is doing it all wrong- oh, listen to me just jabber on, haha!” Inspector Cabanela laughed.

“What Cabanela is saying is that we actually came here for the purpose of attending these conferences, so even if we were busy, we’d make some time for this.” The big man - probably Jowd - said, his voice a rumble. 

“C’mon, we need to make sure we get seats together!” Lynne grabbed the arms of the two men and dragged them into the small meeting room. She looked back at Phoenix, smiling, “You should join us! The more the merrier. 

“So, do you believe in spirit-channeling, then?” Phoenix asked as he somehow got sandwiched between Jowd and Lynne. Cabanela kicked his feet up onto the back of the chair in front of him.

“Spirit-channeling? Eh, I’ll believe that when I see it. Spirits as a general thing? No hesitation there, baby.” Cabanela said.

“And the ideas of implementing and respecting information and testimony received from deceased people? Theoretically, of course. It’s all very interesting.” Jowd shrugged. 

“Shhh, I think it’s starting.”

Maya and Mia walked to the front of the room, where a podium had been placed. No mic was necessary, considering the small size of the room, and especially the small turnout. By Phoenix’s estimate, maybe three-fourths of the chairs were filled, although it had sounded like the two women had only just recently started to make further progress in their efforts, so maybe the turnout was good by that standard? 

Maya was in casual clothes while Mia was in a pantsuit with tall white boots. Maya actually took the lead, organzing papers in her hands and clearing her throat.

It was actually very interesting for a couple of reasons. For one, it filled Phoenix with pride to see how adult Maya was right then, taking control of the speech, speaking clearly, obviously knowing the subject well on both the spiritual and judicial sides. Then there was the intrigue of the subject itself. Maya - and, at a couple times throughout it, Mia - discussed the pros to spirit channeling, like questioning people who were already deceased or even getting information from the poor murdered soul themself, and also the cons, like how the spirits may not be honest, or how sometimes when being channeled, a spirit may be confused and get their memories jumbled up, with the more recent-dead being some of the hardest to channel reliably. 

There was the religious side as well, and how spirit channeling is often considered traditionally to be a one-in-a-life-time experience, and the care that would need to be taken to not over-use it, keeping it for important cases. But what deemed a case important enough for spirit channeling? What laws could be held against someone deceased? Preferably, the precinct or courthouse would build a channeling chamber, with only one or at most two allowed in to see the channeling. But who would be allowed in? What measures would be taken to ensure the safety of the people channeling? 

In the end, it felt like almost more complications and questions were brought about from it than answers, but both Fey’s made it clear that they were questions they are hoping to find answers to with the help of the community and judiciary figures in California.

Jowd asked a couple questions afterwards - like if interfering with spirits after they’ve already moved on was really ethically in the right, to with Mia had said that a skilled spirit channeler would be able to feel if the spirit was resisting and would know how to proceed from there - and it was only then that either of the Fey’s seemed to have noticed Phoenix’s presence in the room, sitting next to the large man. He forced himself to continue sitting tall.

“Well, that was veeeeeery interesting.” Cabanela declared.

“Mm, yes. In a way, the proposal to add spirit-channeling to the judicial system opens an entire can of worms, but I can certainly see how it may be of use, especially considering the conviction rate that simple cannot correctly correlate to how many are actually guilty.” Jowd hummed. 

“Yeah. In the past, I’ve mostly seen spirit-channeling done to help with the actual defending of a client as co-counsel, never as a way to obtain information to use in court. Honestly, it’s something I’ve never considered.” Phoenix sighed. 

“You’re seen spirit-channeling?” 

Phoenix jumped and spun around. Maya was looking at him with curiosity and enthusiasm. 

“... yes.” Phoenix said and declined to elaborate further. 

“Well, what did you think? Did we do just an amazing job? Were you blown away?” Maya fished for compliments.

“It was a very well put together presentation, although I’ll admit, I was expecting you to have a channeling demonstration.”

“Yeah, well, the elders haven’t approved something like that. They think it’d ‘detract from the mysticism of the art’, like our sacred art isn’t going to just die off eventually unless we do something or, I don’t know, move back to somewhere it’s respected.” Maya rolled her eyes. 

“Prosecutor Wright, I’m glad to see you,” Mia now approached and Phoenix didn’t meet her eyes, “After last night, I- is your arm alright?”

“Oh, this?” Phoenix patted his arm, “I got a little banged up yesterday, but it’s nothing to worry about. I’m still fully capable of doing my job. I do need to finish my trial against Edgeworth today.” 

“Well, like I was saying, it was… rude, of me, to surprise you in your office like that. Still, what I was asking about still stands. Would-”

“I’m not giving you my magatama.” Phoenix replied coolly and quickly and then drew in a deep breath, “And, if you want to know why, I’m completely willing to explain that to you. Tomorrow morning, at my house.”

Mia’s eyes narrowed at him while Maya’s widened.

“Really? Mr. ‘Colder That the Arctic’ is inviting us over to his house?” 

“Yes. That’s actually why I’m here. I promise, if you come, you’ll understand why I can’t just give it to you.”

“... fine, but if we don’t think it’s a good enough reason, you give. It. Back.” Mia said, arms folded. Phoenix hesitated, but then nodded.

“... alright. I’ll see you then.”

Mia and Maya went back into the room, probably to prepare for another run-through of their presentation.

“Wow, is she a jilted ex-lover or something?” Lynne asked.

“What?! No! She’s just- It’s- there’s a whole thing going on!” Phoenix defended. The three detectives laughed. 

“If you say so, baby. We best be getting back to the precinct. All that paperwork isn’t going to file itself.” Cabanela sighed Lang and deeply while Jowd patted his pockets, looking around in a clear sign of somebody who had dropped something.

Phoenix felt something brush against his leg and jumped a foot in the air. When he looked down, a little kitten with a red bandana blinked slowly up at him.

“Sissel! No, get back here!” Jowd lunged forward and grabbed the cat, stuffing him into one of the huge pockets of his coat, only for the kitty to jump back out and start climbing Phoenix’s coat, “Sorry, he’s, um, Sissel is-”

“Don’t worry about it, detective. Cats seem to like me for some odd reason. Although, I do need a ride to the courthouse.”

Chapter Text

The trio of detectives were nice enough to oblige his request and give him a ride to the courthouse. Jowd’s kitten sat in the man’s lap the entire time, big yellow eyes staring at Phoenix and occasionally looking up at Jowd, who was silent for most of the ride. It was easy to overlook that fact, however, due to just how much both Lynne and Cabanela could talk. They mostly told stories about cases back in their country, and how their police works, and the great chicken there that they missed so much and ‘Phoenix, if you’re ever over there, you need to try this chicken, I’m serious’. Jowd for the most part kept his eyes on Sissel, petting the kitty and then every-so-often asking questions like ‘so you were nearly drowned’ and ‘you don’t remember anything’ and the ever so interesting ‘is there anything you want to talk about, from it’. Phoenix wasn’t sure what to say about that last one, though it plagued him even after he got out of the car and headed to the courtroom, briefcase with files for the trial in hand for reasons he wasn't entirely sure. Something about the look in the man's eyes when he'd asked it...

“Oh, good, you made it.”

Phoenix was surprised to find Klavier in the lobby. Klavier was leafing through his own set of papers, a policeman next to him who he had been talking to before he noticed Phoenix come in. 

“Don’t you have a second day of investigation?” 

“I did, ja, but not anymore. Deine Schwester requested I get the police to do the job themselves and help you out, so I’ll be playing co-council today. And before you try and turn me down, I’m fairly sure your sister isn’t against flying across the ocean to flay me alive if I don’t help you.” Klavier said.

“I was just going to say thanks.” Phoenix replied. Klaiver blinked, and then it morphed into a kind smile.

“ Ach, my bad. The you I knew didn’t much like co-counseling, but it’s always a pleasure to see you in action up close whenever he’d allow it.” 

“Well then, co-council, fill me in on what the police were able to find at the crime scene last night. Let’s see if it matches up with my hunch.” 

“Back to your hunch, ja? Well, this is what we have.”

Klavier walked Phoenix through the new information. Apparently the evidence backed that there had been some kind of activity on the porch that evening, and Gumshoe, who had been lead detective, even went as far as to check out the neighboring apartment and, wouldn’t you know it, there was a glove with blood on it found on a neighboring balcony. This gave them a reason to bring the neighbor in, and Phoenix hoped they'd find some kind of solid proof that was sorely needed to push the case over the edge.

And, even more importantly, was the second and matching glove found inside the apartment itself.

“Hell yes, we’ve got this.” Phoenix grinned and nodded when he saw that.

“You mean the defense has got this.” Klavier reminded him. Phoenix blinked.

“Y-yes, right, the defense will have this.” 

Klaier chuckled.

“His Honor is ready for you now.” The bailiff told them. Klavier shut the files with a snap.

The evidence was already set along their table for them, and when Phoenix looked across the court, Miles and Shields were emptying their pockets of their own pieces of evidence they’d managed to find yesterday. Miles seemed to be doing his best not to look over at them, glancing up every-so-often and to quickly return his gaze to his evidence. Shields, on the other hand, makes no attempt to conceal the fact that he’s staring at Phoenix. He said something to Miles, and Miles head snapped up, a hand clutching at his arm. At first, Phoenix thought it was his usual nervous habit, and then got the unsettling feeling of whiplash at remembering that, without being raised by Von Karma, it wasn’t a habit Miles should have. Phoenix touched his own broken arm as it clicked. Miles looked away again, saying something to Shields.

“ Achtung, speaking of which, how does your arm feel?” Klavier asked, having also been watching the defense. 

“Fine, really. Took some painkillers. It’s mostly just annoying.” Phoenix patted the cast. 

The judge banged his gavel, quieting the everyone in the room.

“Alright, court is now back in session for the trial of Ms. Emma Sent. Defense, are you ready?”

“Yes, you honor.” Miles gave a short bow and Shields took his hat off. 

“And the Prosecution?” 

“Always.” Phoenix took in a deep breath and then let it out.

“The prosecution would like to call Mr…” Klavier flipped through the files for a moment, “Dunnit to the stand.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t come forward earlier, it was just so scary, you know? Hearing a murder take place right next o me? But I swear, I saw Sent there on the balcony myself.” Dunnit insisted. 

Phoenix sat back, watching and listening as Miles questioned and pressed, steadily revealing Dunnit’s lies for what they really were. Phoenix had had a suspicion, but as the trial progressed, it became more and more clear that Dunnit was the real murderer. 

“B-but, I mean, like I said, I was in the shower so I couldn’t have heard-” Dunnit stuttered.

“OBJECTION!” Phoenix slammed his hands on the table and pointed at Dunnit, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. This, he’d admit, he’d missed while he’d been disbarred, this feeling of pursuit, of finally getting a breakthrough. Yes, they had him, they had him! “So you’re still insisting you were in the shower, then?” 

“Yes, because I was!”

“That directly contradicts your own claim that you did hear a scream, and now you’re saying you couldn’t hear it? Or perhaps, no, why don’t we just retrace our steps a bit, huh? You keep saying that you saw Sent come into your room in order to hide the gloves, but let’s not forget your claim that you always check your locks, hm? The balcony door showed no signs of forced entry. I suppose it’s possible you forgot to check the lock on the back door - except, oh shoot, would you look at this note I wrote down right here. It clearly states that you, Mr. Dunnit, claimed you went to the balcony after you heard the scream and weren’t able to get out and see if anythign had happened as quickly as you would have liked because the balcony door was locked. And of course, I’m surprised nobody’s brought it up, but amidst all this speculation about ownership of gloves, how can we forget that Ms. Sent was caught with blood on. Her. hands. Now, if she had gloves, why would she take them off?”

Miles looked a bit surprised by Phoenix’s sudden additions, but took up right where he left off immediately.

It wasn’t much longer before the ‘Not Guilty’ verdict was called out and Mr. Dunnit was dragged out of the courtroom, spitting obscenities at both Phoenix and Miles. Phoenix didn’t mind, riding the high of having finished a case right alongside his best friend. He grinned over at Miles - and was met with a confused look. Phoenix’s gaze dropped. Right, not his friend. 

Not… not yet, maybe.

“Nice work, as usual, Herr Vogel. ” Klavier praised. Phoenix gave a chuckle.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I mean, we did lose this one.”

“In a perfect world, all that matters is the truth being uncovered,” Klavier said almost wistfully, “But no matter, let’s get to the defense lobby before Herr Edgeworth and Shields are gone, ja?”

“Right.” 

Phoenix was completely ready to make a mad-dash to try and catch the two defense attorneys before they left, but as Klavier swung open the door and both of them got ready to hurry, Miles and Shields themselves were already there. Both parties looked at each other in shocked and awkward silence for a moment. Miles cleared his throat.

“Wright, Gavin. Uh, sorry about… your loss?” Miles said. 

“Waste no time bragging, do you?” The teasing comment slipped out and Miles’ face turned a shade redder as he looked away. 

“What Miles means to say is thanks for the help with this case, it was a lot easier with you, and we wanted to invite you to some victory ice-cream.” Shields laughed, slapping Miles on the back, and Miles knocked the hat off of Shields head in retaliation. 

“Oh.” 

Another pause of awkward silence. 

“Tonight… actually isn’t great. Klavier and I have some things we need to take care of, but we were going to invite you and the rest of your agency over to my house tomorrow morning. There’s some things we wanted to discuss with all of you.” Phoenix said. 

“‘Some things’?” Miles repeated and Phoenix shrugged, stuffing his hand into his pocket and looking over to the side. 

“Eh, just some stuff, you know? You’ve said you’ve noticed something off about me, right? It’s related to that.” 

“So you admit there is something?” Miles practically lept on it. Phoenix shrugged.

“Well, people are always changing, and I’m always who I am, but I’m just not who you know,” He smirked over at Miles, “Don’t worry, if you come tomorrow, it’ll make sense. Or it won’t.”

“Wow, that’s so helpful.” Miles rolled his eyes.

“Still, if nothing else, we’ll provide breakfast,” Klavier said, putting out a hand, “How about it?” 

“... well, I can’t see why not.” Miles sighed and shook Klavier’s hand. “I make no promises for the Fey’s, but Ray and I will be there.” 

“Thanks.”

The four of them left together with Klavier and Shields walking in the front, talking, and leaving Phoenix next to Miles. He tried to look surreptitiously at the man, but it quickly became clear that Miles was trying to do the same thing. Phoenix didn’t know what to say to him, other than what he was already planning to say tomorrow morning. 

“I…” Phoenix started and then aborted the effort. No, better to just wait, when he’d have proof to back him up. Until he was on his own turf, somewhere he was moderately comfortable, and not this building that was practically built to be his battle ground with Miles. 

“Will there really be answers?” Miles asked. Miles is looking forward, refusing or perhaps not letting himself look at Phoenix, “You were rather cryptic, in your description.” 

“Habit,” Phoenix said, “And yes. You asked me, a couple days ago back at the crime scene, what brought about my sudden changes, and my own understanding of it will be told tomorrow. Klavier might share his own side of things. But more than that, we’re also going to be asking you for help. And Edgeworth,” Miles looks at him now, “If you aren’t willing to help us, or don’t want to, you need to be honest about that. Klavier and I can’t be putting our trust into the wrong people right now.” 

“You think I might be one of the wrong ones?” Miles asked. Phoenix shook his head.

“I’m hoping you're one of the right ones, clearly. But… well, I’ve made bad judgement calls before, and it’s nearly gotten me killed.” 

By now, they’ve left the courthouse. Phoenix gives the two defense attorney’s a nod and then he and Klavier walk over to the car, climbing in. Another nice thing about driving a car instead of a motorcycle is that they’re able to talk while Klavier drives. 

“In your memories, were you and Herr Edgeworth close?” Klavier asks. 

“What makes you say that?” Phoenix asks, a kind of built-in defensiveness at Miles’ name being brought up around him, a fear of pulling Miles down into the same muck and mire as himself. 

“Something about the way you look at him. Even the you I knew always seemed a bit sad when talking about Herr Edgeworth. I never got an answer out of him about it, but then again I didn’t ask often.” Klavier admitted. 

“Miles and I… the Miles I know is one of my best friends. If there’s anyone I trust, It’s him, to help us out with this. Mia and Maya as well. Mia was actually my own mentor, and Maya, well, she’s my other best friend. If nothing else, maybe it’d be nice, to, you know…” Phoenix trailed off, hating how soft spoken his words were becoming, as well as how wrong the names felt on his tongue when spoken to another. Don’t bring them up, that was a rule. Divorce yourself from your past, from your friends, as much as possible. Just until it’s over, just until it’s over.

Phoenix had no way of knowing whether this counted as over or not. 

“I see.” Klavier said, and Phoenix thought that maybe he did. 

When they got back to the house, the set to work on preparation. Or, well, Phoenix mostly set to work while Klavier finished up Phoenix’s paperwork from that day’s trial. With Phoenix’s right arm down for the count, his hand-writing on it would be atrocious and illegible. Phoenix himself was set to work rifling through the house for proof to back up their claim. Not their claim of Phoenix being from another world - the only proof Phoenix had for that was the magatama and his own testimony - but of the threat that Kirstoph Gavin posed. Perhaps, Phoenix also considered, knowing to be wary of Kristoph, if nothing else, would help keep Miles and the Fey’s safe. They still didn’t know when Kristoph would act next, or who he’d go after. 

Klavier insisted that they kept all of their in-progress investigations somewhere in the house, so Phoenix was left trying to figure out just where that was. He checked the locked drawer in his room first, having remembered seeing some files in there, but as he pulled them out, he was surprised to find they all seemed to have to do with the DL-6 incident. Odd, and not at all what he’d been looking for, but Phoenix tucked it under his arm anyway. 

The second place he checked, and perhaps where he should’ve started, was the computer office room. Phoenix hadn’t been back in the room since his little investigation into where everybody was here and what they were up to. The hastily-written notes were still next to the computer, and Phoenix glanced over it. He’d met up with almost everybody at this point, except for Apollo. Phoenix sighed at seeing the kid’s name there. One thing at a time. 

There were a lot of drawers and Phoenix rifled through them, hoping to find something. It took a while, but eventually he found, in a file labeled ‘Car Accidents’, what he was looking for. It was mostly a collection of notes and the murder cases that Kristoph had caused. Kristoph was never mentioned by name, always just as ‘G’, and there were hand-written eyewitness statements, the outcomes of the trials, notes for some evidence that had gone missing or oddly shown up where the line of evidence-holding was hard to follow or seemed a bit suspicious. Phoenix just hoped it would be enough. For all he knew, the Edgeworth & Fey Offices were on friendly terms with Kristoph.

Oh, that was a concept that Phoenix wasn’t going to entertain more than necessary. He didn’t need himself calling this whole thing off in a sudden bout of fear that they’d all just turn about and tell Kristoph about it. 

Phoenix shuffled them into a nice stack to take back over to Klavier and go through for the most convincing evidence, and then his eyes caught on a statue he hadn’t noticed last time he’d been in here. He had one back in his office at home, so perhaps that was why his eyes had just glanced right over it, but now it was all he could look at. 

A thinker statue with a reddish-brown stain on the bottom. 

It… couldn't be, could it? 

Phoenix almost grabbed it, but stopped himself, a sudden kind of fear of getting his prints on the murder weapon. It was… it was something he wasn’t going to deal with today. Like Apollo, one thing at a time. The thinker statue, sitting there, with what looked like blood still on it, could wait, would have to wait.

Chapter Text

After Phoenix had gone through the papers with Klavier, putting it into a stack of most to least credible, Klavier once more crashed on Phoenix’ couch, and Phoenix wondered why his house didn’t have at least a guest bedroom or something for Klavier to sleep in. Maybe he’d try and fix that.

Wren followed Phoenix into his room, jumping up onto the bed and curling up into the spot where another person would usually sleep. He had to admit that the bed looked a lot less big and - for want of another word - sad with the cat right there. It was oddly comforting, now that the whole cat thing had set in, to know that the other Phoenix hadn’t been completely alone in this house. 

The bottle of pills, escitalopram, set casually on the side table next to the bed. Phoenix picked it up, turning it over in his hands, reading and rereading the label. Anxiety meds. He’d never even considered getting something like that. At the Wright Anything Agency, the plan was to just never need to see a doctor. That might need to change when he got back, but worries about costs of medication wasn’t something the other Phoenix had had to deal with, and so here he had the medicine, right there, innocently staring up at him. 

He spent a while waffling over it, and then read the description on the bottle twice more for goo measure and then, before he could talk himself out of it, got a glass of water and swallowed down the prescription. Phoenix reasoned that, if he didn’t take his prescription, Franziska might just have Klavier check and see if Phoenix had been doing like she’d asked, and if not come over and kick his ass. 

In the morning, he admittedly did feel better. Whether that was from the escitalopram or from the placebo effect of thinking it would do so, or maybe even just the sort of pride that came with feeling like he’d finally done something to get a better control of his life, it wasn’t exactly clear, but he would take the burst of clear-minded energy any day, and especially during today, when he was going to try being honest with the people who are not his friends about what was going on.

Damn, even just the thought made a fresh burst of anxiety sweep through his stomach. Not the time for that, though. 

About an hour later, Klavier walked sleepily into the kitchen to find Phoenix hard at work. Apparently, the other Phoenix wasn’t half as rich and civilized as he made himself out to be, because what kind of person doesn’t own a waffle iron? That left Phoenix to just make pancakes. At least there had, indeed, been bacon and eggs in the fridge, something Phoenix had completely forgotten to check for before inviting four people over for breakfast. 

It was all sizzling up and smelling great, with Phoenix’s usual Waffle Wednesday songs blaring from his phone's speaker, although he had to manually put on the next song, slowly building up the playlist onto other Phoenix’s youtube account. Given the chance, Phoenix would 100% be willing to explain to his other self the importance of Waffle Wednesday’s with the right accompanying music, as well as Waffle Wednesdays being a state of mind and being, and thus not necessarily tied down to Wednesdays when the need called for them. 

“They’d better be on their way, or it’ll be cold before they here.” Phoenix says. Klavier steals a piece of bacon. 

“My, Herr Vogel, it seems you can cook no matter how your memories fit together.” Klavier appreciates. 

“Oh good, so the other me isn’t a total mess in the kitchen, then?”

“ Nein, you’re skilled enough. You once said something about deine Mutter teaching you everything you knew.” 

Phoenix’s mom wasn’t that good of a cook, but Phoenix wasn’t in the mood for whatever kind of psychic damage asking for further clarification might do, so he left that as it was, focusing back on making breakfast. He’d never minded cooking, but ever since he adopted Trucy (ever since he got disbarred) he found the time in the kitchen to be extremely enjoyable and calming, easy to focus on. 

The doorbell rang.

“I’ll get it.” Klavier offered and Phoenix nodded, not taking his eyes off of the pancakes. Because he didn’t want them to burn, of course, not because he was nervous or anything. 

Phoenix heard the door open and the shuffling of several pairs of feet. 

“ Guten Morgen, you’re just in time for breakfast!”

“We’re not here for breakfast, we’re here for answers that we’ve been promised.” Mia’s voice carried into the kitchen. She sounded so upset to be here. Phoenix found himself chewing on the inside of his mouth. He’d never liked hearing her angry, and knowing that that anger was more or less directed towards him…

“Well, that’s too bad, my family loves my waffles. Pancakes will have to do, however.” Phoenix called out. The dining table is only big enough for four people, but there’s space at the island in the kitchen, with plates already set out. Phoenix finished cooking, piles of food ready for the masses, and gave the quartet a smirk as they came into view. 

“Yes! See, I told you guys there would be food!” Maya whooped and ran right over, grabbing a plate and starting to pile it high. 

“And don’t worry, we’ve got sprinkles and whipped cream.” Phoenix pushed the two items closer to Maya and her eyes lit up.

“My favorite!” She cheered. Shields followed after her. 

“How could I say no to free food? Hey, if nothing comes of it, at least we got this, right?” Shields looked back at the other two. MIles was hard to read as he grabbed a couple pancakes, seemingly avoiding eye-contact with PHoenix. Mia, on the drastic other hand, looked like she was going out of her way to stare Phoenix in the eye, glaring as she grabbed bacon and eggs. Phoenix smirked back. The four defense attorney’s sat at the dining room table while Klavier and Phoenix sat on the bar, turned around and holding their plates in their hands. 

“How does it taste? Good enough for you?” Phoenix asked.

“This is great! I had no idea you knew how to cook, Wright.” Maya praised him. Shields and Miles nodded along with that comment while Mia cleared her throat. 

“I think I speak for the rest of us when I say that we’re not here to eat,” Mia said. Maya made a sound of disagreement but didn’t say anything loud enough to stop Mia as the continued on to say, “Why the hell did you want to talk to us.” 

“It’s important that, should you decide not to believe us, you don’t tell anybody else about what we’re going to tell you. Say it’s just us being a little more paranoid than is healthy, but I need your words.” Phoenix folded his arms the best he could while still holding a syrup-filled plate. The Edgeworth & Fey lawyers look at each other, minor facial expressions and gestures telling tale of an entire silent conversation. Phoenix felt a pang when he realized he wasn’t able to completely read any of them, that some of the nuances of their body language weren’t familiar to him. Not that time for that right now. Focus. 

Finally, Miles and Mia nodded to Phoenix and Klavier.

“Unless it’s something that puts someone’s life at risk, you have our word.” Miles declared. 

Phoenix looked over at Klavier and nodded. Klavier had had the sense of mind to bring files into the kitchen, and now he passed it over to the dining table. Miles raised an eyebrow upon seeing it, opening it up and briefly flipping through. 

“Murder cases?” The other three leaned over to get their own look at the files. Phoenix nodded. 

“Edgeworth, I trust you still remember the Gramarye trial? It must have been a rough loss - hounded by the media for weeks afterwards, people thinking you must have been behind Zak’s disappearance somehow, that piece of questionable evidence mocking you - not that you used the fake notebook page, of course,” Phoenix couldn't keep the bit of bitter envy and anger out of his voice, but he quickly reeled it back in, although it had served to get everybody looking at him. Klavier in particular was giving him an odd look that Phoenix resolutely ignored, “What’s important is that you were Zak’s second lawyer, right? Do you know who the original one was?” 

“... no, he never told me.” Miles admitted while Mia whispered something quickly to Maya, who replied just as quietly and quickly. Shields had his arms folded, head tilted to the side in consideration.

“That would be mein Bruder, the ‘Coolest Defense in the West’, and who we have reason to believe has, in retaliation, been going on slow-burning killing spree of everybody who was involved in that case.” Klavier revealed.

“Kristoph Gavin?” Mia asked as Maya gasped, shock showing on all of their faces. Phoenix and Klavier nodded together. 

“Before the trial, he warned me he’d been tipped off about the defense having forged evidence they were going to present, a ripped-out page from Magnifi’s diary. Something that, in retrospect, you never would’ve had the time to prepare beforehand, and that you ended up never presenting despite the loss you sustained for it. Which means that Kristoph had prepared it and intended to use it against me during my first trial, and now is trying to cover up his tracks. You’ll see in there that so far he’s killed a reporter who was closely involved, the forger, and Zak Gramarye himself.” Klavier rattled off, the facts of it old hat by now. 

“Gramarye is dead?!” Maya gasped. 

“The name he was using at the time was Shadi Smith, and unknown wanderer with no connections, but it’s definitely him.” Phoenix confirmed. 

“But why are you telling us this?” Mia asked. 

“We need help. If we don’t finally get some conclusive evidence against Kristoph - which we haven’t found any of just yet - then we fear he’ll keep up the exponentially-increasing pace of murders.” 

“Your theory is good to know, and we’ll be reviewing this ‘evidence’,” Mia gestured to the files, “But you said that this was going to explain why you’ve insisted on keeping our magatama, and I’m not seeing that related to this case in the slightest.”

“That’s because it’s not. Well, not entirely. I’m working on the case, and it’s related to the case through me, if you want to try and see it that way,” Phoenix admitted, “Because there’s another thing we wanted to explain to you. Me, because you all seem to have noticed that there’s been something off about me.”

“We have a whole list.” Shields said. 

“Before I went missing a couple weeks ago, Klavier says that I was following some sort of lead that I didn’t tell him about. But I can’t tell him what I was after, because I have no idea.” 

“Your memory loss, yes, you’ve said as much before.” Miles nodded, but Phoenix shook his head. 

“You don’t know the half of it, though. I can’t remember what happened to me, yes, but to a further extent, I can’t remember hardly anything about my entire life here. Because I’m not Phoenix Wright, High Prosecutor.” 

“You’re… not Phoenix Wright?” Miles repeated. 

“Not as you knew him. My personal understanding of the situation is that I’m from another world, a parallel reality to this one, with some similarities but a lot of differences. Most importantly, I know for a fact that Kristoph is the one behind these murders, the lengths of who he’s willing to kill, the power he has, and the weaknesses of your current judicial system. But whatever the other Phoenix knew, whatever might’ve been helpful, I can’t recall.” 

Phoenix was met by stunned silence from his audience. 

“I respect Herr Vogel’s version of reality, but in my eyes, I believe his near-death experience might have, ah, scrambled around the facts in his head. But he’s still able and willing to help with this, and I’ll take what I can get.” Klavier added. Once again, the people around the dining room table had turned to face each other, talking in hushed tones and loud expressions.

“The magatama is mine. I always have it on me, and it’s all I have from my world,” Phoenix decided to put out there before Mia could demand further explanation herself, “And if you need time to think about that and call me crazy or whatever the hell you’re going to do, go ahead and leave. But if you’re going to stick around and help us with Kristoph, whatever your opinion of me is, then we need to get to work, because the life of two young women could be on the line next.”

Chapter Text

“Are you alright, Herr Vogel?” 

No, Phoenix almost admits, because he isn’t alright. The Edgeworth & Fey law Offices had quickly excused themselves from the dining room to talk amongst themselves in the living room over what they’d just been told. So far, they hadn’t shown any sign of coming back, and what they might be saying was driving Phoenix perhaps just a little insane. He was slowly picking away at the eggs left on his plate, more playing with his food than eating it really, but he kept getting distracted by every little sound his ears picked up. 

Klavier put his hand on top of one of Phoenix’s, stilling a trembling that had been developing over the last ten minutes. What were they saying? Were they telling other people about what he’d told them? Were they going to betray his trust? Had Phoenix let himself be blinded by familiar faces and forget that the people behind those faces were strangers, perhaps even enemies, to himself?

“Alright, I’ll bite, this isn’t some joke, is it?”

Phoenix looked behind him in surprise, having not heard the person approaching. The least-familiar attorney, Shields, was leaning against the limen of the dining room door, hands in his pockets and regarding Phoenix and Klavier with an open curiosity. 

“If it was, I’d be pretty shit at jokes. My daughter says I have a great sense of humor, though.” Phoenix said, his tone to come out bored and unfazed. 

“Ah, you have a daughter? Never would’ve taken you - any version of you - for the type.” Shields whistled. 

“It’s not important, but yeah, she’s my pride and joy, hope to get back to her eventually.” Phoenix shrugged. Shields nodded, pushing himself back up straight and walking over to the kitchen island, grabbing a pancake with his bare hands and tearing off a piece to stuff into his mouth. 

“Well, I don’t care much about any of that anyway. All I’m worried about is your accusations against Gavin - the other Gavin, of course.” Shields said. 

“Trust me, Herr Shields, if there was another answer, I’d be telling all of you about it.” Klavier sighed. 

“Figured as much. That’s why I need to know something, because I’m thinking you two left out a little itty-bitty detail very much on purpose,” Shields leaned on the counter, looking at the two of them, and Phoenix kept his face a blank, only a smirk creeping past, usually a dare to poker competitors to just try and get a read on him, see what good it’d do them, “If Gavin is bumping off people from the Gramarye case, then what’s stopping him from going after Miles and Mia?”

Phoenix didn’t look away. He already knew how to answer this one. 

“Right now? Probably the publicity and attention it’d get. The three murders  - an unlikable reporter, a hermit artist, a grifter - weren’t terribly missed. But if nothing else, if Edgeworth and Mia died, I’m sure you and Maya would stop at nothing to get answers.” Phoenix replied.

“That’s about what I was thinking. Those two girls you mentioned are easier targets?” Phoenix nodded. Shields hummed, “But you don’t think Miles and Mia are going to be ‘safe’ for long, do you?”

Phoenix shook his head. 

“If it takes taking out the whole office? So be it, I’m sure. You know how serial murderers go, they start to devolve, they start to go after more victims, they’ll break patterns, they’ll take more risks. Maybe he’ll make more mistakes in his next murder, but that’s not something we’re going to wait around for. We need to catch him - and most importantly, prove him guilty - with the evidence we currently have or can find.” Phoenix stated. 

Shields seemed to consider it for a second, tilting his head back and forth as if rolling the thoughts around in his head, eyes closed. When his eyes opened, they were sharp, unlike Phoenix had ever seen them before, even the time he’d faced the man in court. 

“Why don’t you tell Miles and Mia themselves they might be in danger?”

“The last thing we need is them panicking or acting suspicious. We imagine Kristoph is probably already keeping a close eye on them through some means, and already there’s going to be some changes in their behavior from all of this,” Klavier took this one, “But they are your friends, and I’m sure neither of us will say a word against it if you decided they were better off knowing.” 

“... we’ll keep it between us, for now. I can watch their backs for them. Anyway, with all of us working on this, Kristoph shouldn’t be at large for long.”

Shields seemed to have satisfied his purpose for coming into the dining room and left back to the living room. 

Phoenix was immensely relieved from the answer Klavier had given. He hadn’t been sure how to say it was his own stupidity, his own fear of sharing yet more knowledge with the other group. Mia and Miles deserved to know if they were in danger, of course they should, and yet and yet and yet - it was always the ‘and yet’s with him these days. More than anything, he’d hoped that Mia and Miles would put it together on their own, from the facts that had been given to them. Maybe they already had. He hoped they had. 

For another few minutes, it was just Klavier and Phoenix once more, together in the dining room. At some point, they started doing dishes, leaving the extra breakfast out just in case somebody (most likely Maya) wanted to grab a little bit more. Klavier didn't even question it when Phoenix ignored the empty dishwasher altogether and started to hand wash everything. He simply took up the place next to Phoenix, rag in hard to dry things and put them away. Phoenix needed to keep in mind that, no matter what might come about by the end of this meeting, he’d still have Klavier by his side still. 

Phoenix began to open his mouth to tell Klavier just that, that he was lucky to have somebody so reliable at his side, when She came into the room.

“I want it back now.”

Phoenix didn’t turn to look at her at first, as if he could ignore the fact that Mia Fey was standing behind him, but her voice was still her voice, face to put it to or no. 

“Want what back?” He feigned ignorance even as the green charm seemed to grow heavier in his pocket. He had yet to get a new string for it, but right now he was kind of glad it was out of sight. 

“You didn’t give much of a reason why you should keep the magatama, and it’s very important to Maya and I. Please, just, give it back.” Mia put her hand out, but Phoenix wasn’t looking at the hand. He was looking at her face, at the wrinkles that had never been there, and the length of her hair, and the tiredness that hung off her shoulders. Well, she’d always had that, but it was more pronounced now, and maybe a little sadder. 

“Is that really all you think about?” Phoenix found himself saying, “I’ve seen you three times now, and every time you’re asking for it ‘back’. It’s not yours, though, it’s mine, and I’m not going to lose it.”

“Look, I guess I sort of get it. If you’re telling the truth, you think that magatama has some emotional value to you. But it belongs in my family, and whatever kind of need to keep it safe you have, I promise I feel the same ten-fold for it. I’m not just going to let it stay in the hands of, well… you.” To her credit, Mia did look a bit sorry. Phoenix wasn’t sure what Mia thought about his own entire personal predicament. 

“Me? Just me? You’d be fine if Klavier was holding on to it?” Phoenix wasn’t sure why he kept pressing the matter. The smart thing, the best thing to do, would be to just hand the magatama over to Mia. The Fey’s would keep it safe, of course they would, and it wasn’t as if it was charged anyway. It had no functional purpose for him. But there was something in his stomach, in his chest, that was slowly starting to override the anxiety and fear and paranoia as the conversation - if it could be really called that - went on. The thing that had writhed inside of him when he’d found out that Miles had never presented the forged evidence. 

“No-”

“So you’re saying you don’t have something against me, personally, then?” Phoenix demanded, not sure what he was looking for, just knowing he was desperately trying to find whatever it was. 

“...” 

“You do, don’t you?”

“If you’re not lying, then it isn’t really against ‘you’-”

“But it is, isn’t it? You hate me. You fucking hate me! God, do you have any clue how bad that feels?! I can’t- when you came to my office- shit, fuck, Mia Fey hates me!” Phoenix’s voice rose until he was shouting, but the thing in his chest wasn’t done raging yet, and so the shame that would surely follow didn’t touch him just yet, “I spent years - years! - mourning you, or trying to figure out how to mourn you, and you meant so much to me, God, it all feels fake now, like it was a lie all along, even though I know the you I knew and the you here are different. Mia Fey hates me!” The words are like acid on his tongue, down his throat, but he kept saying them as if he could get used to the sting, that it’d make it feel right. Nothing had felt right for a week now, 

“I-I’m not giving you my magatama! You’re not getting it! Because this was given to me by my best friend; I’d rather die than have something happen to it! Maybe I can’t see psyche-locks right now, but that doesn’t matter, because she gave it to me because she trusted me with her safety, with her life, and I’m not going to let that go! I don’t give a singular shit what you think - or maybe I do, I don’t know - but I do know that this is my fucking magatama and you can try and throw me back in the lake and get if yourself if you want it so damn bad!”

Phoenix was breathing hard, chest heaving up and down, the anger having finally run its course, something that had been brewing at least since he’d realized the Mia he’d been talking to hadn’t been the one he’d been longing to talk to. 

Mia on her part looked speechless, having backed up a few steps throughout Phoenix’s rant. He dragged a hand down his face, looking away from Mia, his other hand digging into his pocket and holding onto the magatama, the familiar shape of it not bringing him as much calm as he’d hoped it would. 

“Wright-”

“Must be muscle-memory; you always could just get to the core of me.” A self-deprecating half-smile forced itself onto Phoenix’s face. The first time she’d done that, sitting on her couch as he cried his eyes out from his heart breaking, it’d felt good in the end, cathartic. Now, though, it just left him feeling defenseless, bare, and sad. 

“... did Maya give it to you?” 

Phoenix still didn’t look at her, afraid of what might bubble to the surface this time if he did, but he nodded. 

“... okay.” Mia said, and Phoenix flinched, resisting the urge to look at her. 

“That’s it?”

“Hold on to it.” 

He saw her leave the dining room out of the corner of his eye, and once she was gone he sank to the floor, curling up on himself. Klavier sat next to him, but waited for a while before saying anything, letting Phoenix get his breathing under control. 

“... maybe we should’ve just asked one of them for help?” Klavier suggested and Phoenix coughed out a laugh. 

“Nah, they would’ve just told the others. It’s better this way.” 

“You don’t look better.”

“Wow, thanks.” 

“You know what I mean. It’s barely eleven and you look ready to sleep for a million years. And you definitely don’t usually get angry like that. Or, well,”

“Yeah yeah, I know, the ‘me’ you knew, that ‘other Phoenix’,” Phoenix said with venom, “I just… it doesn’t matter. We’ve got work to do.”

“There will always be work to do.” Klavier pointed out. Phoenix shrugged. 

“I just… I only have one thing that’s mine, really mine. I just…” Phoenix sighed again, unable to figure out how to put things into words. He wished this was just a poker game, where you only needed a handful of words, and emotions were well cordoned off. For all the similarities he’d found between poker and law, words were not one of them. All the practice he’d gotten over the past seven years had been hiding and avoiding questions and verbal sparring matches against Kristoph. Not exactly how you’d develop healthy social skills. 

“Mia died for you?”

With great will power, Phoenix managed to lift his head. Miles Edgeworth looked down at him, glasses sitting on the bridge of  his nose, trenchcoat loosely hanging around him, a man that Phoenix didn’t know and exactly the man Phoenix wanted to see right now and somebody who made Phoenix want to start yelling again and a someone who Phoenix wanted to hold him. 

“Admitting you believe me?” Phoenix said instead of anything else he wanted to say, voice devoid of emotion, less by choice and more by not having the energy to put anything more into it. 

“Psyche-locks.” Miles said simply. Alright, he had him there. 

“I don’t want to have another conversation here.” Phoenix declared, getting up and going outside. Miles followed after him, and at Phoenix’s ankles padded Wren. Phoenix could almost swear the cat was giving him a worried look, like she had conspired with Klavier to come with him so that at least one of them was there just in case he exploded again. Phoenix sat down on the back porch and Wren climbed onto his lap, though her eyes were fixed on Miles. Miles didn’t sit down, instead leaning against the railing at the bottom of the stairs, hands stuffed into the pockets of the trenchcoat. 

“You have a cat.” Miles observed.

“Wren, Edgeworth. Edgeworth, Wren.”

“Hey there.” Miles put a hand forward and Wren scrunched backward to keep him from touching her. Eventually, Miles gave up. 

“Are you here to get angry at me for yelling at Mia?” Phoenix asked, not wanting to sit around like this. He wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible. By his count, he was halfway through this nightmare of conversations, and then - if God or the Holy Mother or anything out there be willing - they would be able to figure this out, slam Kristoph into jail, and then…

No, best not to think that far into the future. 

“You shouldn’t have yelled at her.” Miles said and Phoenix groaned. 

“Listen-”

“But no, that’s not what I wanted to talk about.” 

“Alright, then what do you want?” 

“There’s a lot I’m still mulling over, but what I want to know about most is who Mia and Maya are to you.”

“What?” Confusion swept through Phoenix.

“You were close to them, weren’t you? I guess I’m just, that’s the hardest part for me. Trying to imagine one of the Von Karma’s becoming acquaintances or friends or anything with the Fey’s.” Oh, of course, a defense attorney poking at the contradictions in the testimony. Phoenix figured there must be enough to keep Miles’ entire office busy for weeks. He hoped they’d focus on the immediate threat and get around to the problem that was Phoenix Wright later. Maybe the smarter thing would’ve been to not tell them about the whole memory thing until later… but no, surely they would’ve noticed more and more things wrong about Phoenix as they worked closely together, and then it would’ve become a bigger problem. 

Phoenix figured that saying, actually, Von Karma’s can and do along great with Fey’s would not earn him any points and only lead to too many questions. To be fair, there were only really two Fey’s left, but Maya’s friendship with Miles and flirting with Franziska did make the rule this Miles was trying to propose a bit laughable. 

“Well, it’s a lot easier when you’re not a Von Karma.” Phoenix said. 

“You’re not…?” 

“Nope.” PHoenix said, popping the ‘p’ as he found his ground and rhythm in the conversation. This subject, he could tackle. 

“Does that mean you actually became an artist?” Miles asked, adjusting his glasses. Phoenix scratched Wren under the chin, getting a purr out of the cat and thinking back.

“Did I really say that all the way back in elementary school? Damn. I came close, I’ll tell you that, but no, something ended up calling me to the law.” Phoenix said. 

“So you’re still a prosecutor, then. At least you still know law. That does explain how you’ve been able to keep up the charade of knowing what you are doing during trials. Your methods in court aren’t much different than they used to be. It’s mostly your conduct that’s strange, although even that at times is still eerily familiar to me.” Miles seemed to say this more to himself than to Phoenix. That was fine, Phoenix had worked as a sounding board for Miles’ ideas time and again. 

“We’ve met in court.” Phoenix confirmed.

Miles nodded and tried to pet Wren again, who still wasn’t having it.

“And there, in the place you remember, are we…?” 

He didn’t finish, letting Phoenix fill in the blank. Friends? Enemies? Rivals? Maybe… no, surely no Miles considered that , certainly not one who had looked seconds away from punching Phoenix in the face back at the detention center. 

“I wouldn’t be half the man I am now without you in my life.’ Phoenix finally said, the only way he could ever sum up what Miles meant to him as concisely as possible. Miles adjusted his glasses again. 

“... thank you. That’s all I need to know right now.” Miles declared, like Phoenix was the defendant and Miles had come to take his statement before proceeding with the rest of the investigation. Phoenix stayed where he was as Miles went back inside, but Wren watched Miles the entire way and, after the door had closed behind him, finally settled back down. 

“You know, he’s not too bad. Or he shouldn’t be.” Phoenix told her. Wren blinked slowly up at him, “No, really I promise. If everything goes right after today, maybe you’ll have more visitors,” Wren flicked an ear, looking behind Phoenix, “Yeah, even Mia. She’s… Mia’s great, really. She protects her family. It’s not really anybody’s fault that right now, I’m a man who’s been a threat before.” 

“Oh good, so I don’t have to apologize, then.” 

Phoenix’s head whipped around so fast he thought he might break his neck. 

Right. 

One more.

Perhaps the worst of them all was Maya, because she still looked almost identical to the Maya he knows. 

Phoenix turned back around, digging his fingers into Wren’s fur. It was soft and warm. 

“Hey, don’t worry, I’m not here to get into another argument, I promise!” Maya plopped own next to him on the stairs, going to pet Wren and Wren let her, leaning into her fingers and purring. 

“Well if you’re not going to ask me questions, does that mean I can ask you some?” Phoenix asked. 

“Go for it! There’s no way any of this has been great for you.” Maya said. 

“What are you all talking about, anyway? I can take it if you’re all confused about my own, personal predicament, but I need to know you’re taking the Kristoph thing seriously.” Phoenix didn’t know how to further instil the importance of the situation onto them. 

“We’re mostly talking about you, though your ‘psyche-lock’ comment has done wonders to improve your case.” 

“Okay, that’s not bad.” Phoenix needed to take whatever he could get from them at this point. 

“See, I always knew you were still good, deep down there.” Maya smiled.

“I’m not the other Phoenix, remember? Maybe he was a piece of shit or something, you don’t know.” 

“No, I know. I mean, ‘you’ve’ only been here since the lake, right? So then Phoenix must’ve been working on this thing with Klavier for a while before then. Bam, proof right there!” Maya punched her own hand to accent her point and Phoenix managed a smile.

“At least I had you in my corner.” 

“Hey, what can I say? I’ve been keeping a close eye on your work for a while now! It sort of made Miles depressed, so he stopped at some point, but I knew there was more to you than met the eye, and I was right.”

“Actually, no, I’m Wright, you’re Fey.” Phoenix said.

“Hey, look at this guy, he’s got a sense of humor now!” Maya shoved his shoulder and Phoenix chuckled. 

“Maybe I always had a sense of humor and you just never picked up on it. You know, comedy is an art, and as an old art teacher of mine once said, ‘art is in the eye of the educated’. You probably just weren’t smart enough.” 

“Okay, I take it all back, you’re a terrible human being.” Maya flopped backwards in defeat and misery and Phoenix laughed again. When she sat back up, though, her expression was different, and Phoenix’s smile slowly slipped back into his poker-face smirk.

“But you did come out here for a reason, didn’t you?” He asked. With some reluctance, Maya nodded. 

“There’s just… I know you’re probably really tired of talking about the magatama by now, but I do think there’s something you should know, just to, like, give context to this situation, you know?” She said quickly and then tensed, perhaps anticipating Phoenix to start shouting again. 

“Like what?” He set a hand on Wren again, and the cat shifted on his lap. 

“It’s not that I don’t think it’s your magatama, per se, and I agree with Mia that you can hold on to it, but I just thought you should know that we do have reason to believe it might have been our mother’s. I mean, we wouldn't be so insistent if we knew where our own was, you know?” Maya explained. Phoenix’s mind went blank for a second. That… he hadn’t even considered that defense, of ‘just look in your pocket, surely you have your own on you’. 

“Wait, you mean…”

“About two weeks ago, I lost my mom’s magatama,” Maya admitted, “When I saw it was being used in my trial, I was of course upset about being accused of attempted murder, but at least I know knew where it was. You even described it perfectly, including the fracture from when Mia got hit by that car! I guess I need to keep looking, though.”

“Your magatama.” Phoenix said, trying to process the information. There was something about it that was trying to click together with other puzzle pieces in his head. 

“Well, I mean, it could just as easily be yours! I just thought you deserved to know that our badgering you over that was founded in something, you know?” Maya smiled, looking pleased to have gotten that out in the open. She gave Wren one last pet, stood up, and went inside, leaving Phoenix on the back porch steps. 

He took out the magatama, turning it over in his hands. Still uncharged. The fracture was still there, the color was right, he’d been fighting to get and keep this since he’d first found himself here. 

And yet, for all he knew, it wasn’t even his.

Chapter Text

In a perfect world, when Phoenix got back up, the Edgeworth & Fey lawyers would all be gone, and Phoenix would be able to sit on his uncomfortable couch and just marinate in his own thoughts for a bit. But it had been fairly well established that this world or any world that Phoenix ended up frequenting wasn't what one might consider perfect or even fair. Still, apparently there was something on his side in all of this, because when Phoenix entered the house again, there wasn’t anybody in immediate sight, and gave Phoenix another moment to compose himself. 

It was a disconcerting, almost down-right painful experience, of being torn wide open by these people. They were his best friends, and so he allowed his guard down so easily around them whether he meant to or not. At the same time, they were strangers, and still possibly threats to him and his family if he wasn’t careful. 

He paused in the dining room to consider that thought, his un-injured hand pushing Wren off the table and away from the leftover bacon. How strange it was, that the ‘family’ he was worried about was the same people he was afraid of, a contradiction that could only be fixed with time. 

The magatama - whether it be his own or Maya and Mia’s - was in his pocket still. Out of sight, hopefully out of mind. Phoenix had the rest of the day to get through before he let himself be consumed by that existential nightmare right there. The chance that, like so many other things, it’s familiarity had been a lie was almost too much.

Deciding that he must have given the Edgeworth & Fey lawyers more than enough time to come to some sort of decision of whether they were going to work together (although, from the sound of his one-on-one conversations, they’d already decided that part) Phoenix went into the living room. The four defense attorneys as well as Klavier were around the coffee table. Klavier was talking about something, pointing to some notes, and Phoenix imagined he must have been called over at some point for questions that were far more productive to their cause than the ones Phoenix had been on the receiving end of before. 

“Now, we’ve gotten our farthest in regards to the Misham case from a few weeks ago. The police initially suspected his daughter, Vera, of killing him, but were never able to apprehend her. Further investigation also revealed the poison having come from his mail. However, the owner of the PO box that was used to send the mail hasn’t been found. Whether that’s because there’s nothing to be found, or Kristoph has somebody under his thumb in order to keep that knowledge from coming to light, it’s hard to say.” Klavier explained. 

“You’ve gone over the three murders, but what about the original case? Surely if we can at least confirm Kristoph’s connection to that one, we’ll have ample reason to bring up suspicion between the murders and him.” Mia asked, hand holding her chin in consideration. Klavier sighed and shook his head, sitting back and folding his arms. 

“That won’t work. With Drew Misham and Zak Gramarye dead, the man who had forged the page and the client, there is only my word that Kristoph had been involved to link him now. One of the reasons Herr Vogel and I haven’t taken this to a more offical level is a fear that the courts will think that the evidence points towards you or Herr Edgeworth as the culprits and masterminds behind it all.” 

“Kid does have a point,” Shields agreed, “The case practically writes itself. Miles found out that Kristoph told Klavier and knew better than to present the evidence. He gets angry over it, and then spends the next few years plotting revenge.”

“I would never do something like that!... and if I did, I’d like to think it would take me seven years to do anything.” Miles defended(?) himself. 

“Well, in my version of events, Kristoph had actually plotted to kill Misham a lot sooner using a similar method of a poisoned stamp. His daughter, however, liked that particular stamp and had it framed. We might be able to find it and try to use it as proof, but I have no idea how much evidence was collected and kept from the Misham’s house. I don’t suppose we have any kind of ‘in’ with the forensics here anyway, do we?” Phoenix spoke up, finally making his presence known. All five pairs of eyes turned towards him and he put his hand in his pocket, blinking slowly. 

“It could be worth looking into, although the possibility of Kristoph already having ruined any evidence is not one we should forget soon.” Klavier reasoned. 

“If it comes to it, there's also the chance of getting Vera herself to testify. I’d like to avoid it as much as possible, the poor girl’s been through enough as is and considering she was so young when she spoke with Kristoph, it’s possible she wouldn’t be able to identify him out of a line up. I don’t want to raise suspicion by going back to Hazakura so soon, so if anybody is going to go and ask, it should be one of the Fey’s. They’ll look the least suspicious out of us, considering Iris lives there.” Phoenix considered the plan forming in his head as he spoke. If they could get Vera, she was indeed the last link between the forged page and Kristoph they had. Maybe Miles even held onto the page itself, as that had yet to see the light of day…

“Vera?”

“You’ve been to Hazakura?” 

“You know Iris?” 

Klavier, Maya, and Mia talked over each other and Phoenix walked over to the coffee table, sitting down on the floor. Wren, ever the faithful companion, joined him, sitting in his lap once more and demanding further skritches. He also pushed up his sleeves - or tried to, the cast somewhat ruining his attempt. 

“Guess I do have some explaining to do on that part, huh. Well, to start with, the person who forged the notebook page wasn’t actually Drew Misham, but his daughter Vera. She’s met him in person only once, seven years ago, but there might still be something useful she remembers.” He explained and Klavier’s eyebrows scrunched up.

“ Wirklich? Die kleine Frau was a forger?” 

“From what I understand, she didn’t know what she was doing at the time; obvously she was pretty young, and just knew that what she was doing was making her daddy happy. The lengths that kids will go to for their parents might just surprise you.” Phoenix said, thoughts straying away from Vera and to his own daughter. 

“As for Hazakura and Iris, I’m afraid I’m as unsure how the Phoenix we knew knew about them as I imagine the current Herr Vogel is. What’s important is that your cousin is currently looking after Trucy Gramarye and Vera Misham, a decent distance away from LA and hopefully far enough from Kristoph’s reach to keep them safe.” Klavier helped Phoenix explain.

“Well, we did know about Trucy, we were the ones who had asked Iris to look after her, but Vera is a surprise. I remember hearing about her disappearance the few times the news ran Misham’s murder as a story,” Mia mused, “It’s a relief to know that she’s safe.”

“In an effort to be transparent, I’d also like to say that in my world, I’m actually fairly familiar with Hazakura and Iris. My Maya and Pearls insisted we go for training a few times, and I used to date Iris for a while. That’s ancient history now, but we’ve kept in contact over the years.” Phoenix further explained

“You what?!” Was chorused through the group, with both Mia and Maya looking shocked while Klavier looked like he’d just been handed a great bit of gossip. Which, Phoenix supposed, he had. 

“Like I said it was a long time ago, all the way back when I was in college, and, well, at the time I had no idea it was her.” Phoenix shrugged. This, this wasn’t too bad to talk about. It was ancient history, it was a funny joke to tell to the new servers at the Borscht Bowl Club who hadn’t already heard all his stories already. 

“You don’t mean…” Mia trailed off, a deathly serious look in his eyes. Phoenix chuckled and scratched the back of his head, a lopsided grin on his face.

“That I was dating who I thought was my dear darling Dahlia for a good long while, and then almost got murdered by her? Hit the nail right on the head there, Chief.” 

“Like Larry.” Miles observed. 

“ Larry dated Dollie?! Oh my god, oh my god I wish I had been there for that. God, you know he made fun of me for being all into her - admittedly, I was in a terrible relationship and he had ever right to call out that shit, but also Iris wasn’t bad, if she wasn’t there on her sister’s behalf, then maybe we could’ve, you know, become something.” It wasn’t a ‘what-if’ that Phoenix usually entertained. The Iris and Dahlia ‘what-if’s were dangerous ground to try and retread, and he really was satisfied and happy with what he currently had with Iris. 

“Yeah, she tried to frame him for murder, which, well,”

“‘If something smells, it’s usually the Butz’.” Phoenix caught on and recited the ending with Miles. Miles blinked in surprise.

“You remember that?”

“Of course I do. With you off in Germany most of the time in my world, who do you think has to put up with the Butz the most?” Phoenix snorted. 

“Why am I in Germany?” Miles asked. Phoenix flapped his hand in dismissal. 

“Let’s not worry too much about my version of everything, alright? What’s important is that I know Vera was the real forger and might be able to help us out. Again, though, I’d like to avoid that if at all possible. She’s been through enough, and bringing her back into LA might put her at risk of Kristoph going after her.”

“Maya and I are fairly busy still, the Judicial Conference goes into next week after all, but Miles or Ray might be able to go.” Mia suggested, and Phoenix tried not to look too pleased that he was being taken seriously by her. 

“Could you go over the Shadi Enigmar information again?” Ray requested and Klavier nodded, flipping through the pages. 

Miles’ eyes darted over to Phoenix, and Phoenix noticed then that the man was holding onto a couple of papers. He made eye contact with Phoenix and then nodded his head towards the hallway. Confused, but also curious, Phoenix got up and follow Miles, gently knocking Wren off his lap. The cat made an upset sound and went to Klaiver to comfort her for this grievous wrong that Phoenix had done against her. 

“Everything alright?” Phoenix asked once they were sequestered away. Miles didn’t respond right away, organizing the papers in his hands and then pushing them over to Phoenix. 

“You had these. Do you... are you aware of what hey say?” He said, simply, and Phoenix took them. 

“Oh, the DL-6 files. Shit, I thought I put those away.” Phoenix sighed.

“Not DL-6 exactly. Look a little closer.” Miles urged. He seemed to be caught between looking at Phoenix and looking away from him, and a foreboding feeling ran up Phoenix’s spine. Still, he did as Miles said. 

He was right, it wasn’t exactly DL-6 files. It was more like, post-DL-6 files, files that were related enough to the case that DL-6 was mentioned early on, but it wasn’t actually the event itself. In reality, the file detailed a car crash. Two casualties. It was suspected the driver had apparently been in a great deal of emotional turmoil and wasn’t in a state to be behind the wheel. She died later at the hospital while the driver of the other car died upon impact. There was one wounded who was sent to the hospital and was expected to make a full recovery. 

Polly Jenkins. 

That was the name of the woman who had hit the other car.

Phoenix’s eyes stayed stuck to that name, like he already knew what he was going to find if he forced his eyes to go further down. He did, didn’t he? It would be one of the last pieces of the puzzles, an explanation, a reason, proof of how it all came back together. Von Karma kills Gregory Edgeworth in an elevator and Miles is orphaned. Von karma kills Yanni Yogi in an elevator and…

The other victim’s name was Ryoko Wright. Dead. Deceased. The only family Phoenix had had. His poor struggling mom, killed by a grieving woman. 

It made a sort of sense, didn’t it? 

“I…” Phoenix’s throat closed up, keeping him from saying anything more, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, trying to formulate what one even says to this.

“I had no idea,” Miles said, voice soft. His eyes had finally settled on staring at the papers, “I’d always wondered, you know, where it was you’d gone. Both me and Larry had. If I had known, then, the hand I’d had in all of that, then maybe-”

“Shut up,” Phoenix snapped, surprising Miles enough to look him in the eyes again. Those cool gray eyes, familiar and grounding, gave Phoenix the strength to go on, “It’s not your fault. You were a kid, alright? You just happened to be in the elevator at the time, it means nothing. You’re innocent, Miles.”

“That… that’s not true. There’s actually, there’s something about that case that nobody knows. You see, I-”

“Damn, do you still have that nightmare here? About throwing the gun? You don’t really think you shot and killed Yanni Yogi by accident, do you?” 

“You know about-”

“I meant what I said earlier, about not wanting to explain my entire world. It’s more of a distraction to our cause than anything, but know that you’re innocent, Miles. I know who’s really responsible, and maybe when this is over, we can deal with that. This is… this is just how it had to be, I guess.” Phoenix looked grimly down at the papers in his hands again. Was there a grave? He should visit her grave, bring some flowers. She deserved at least that much.

“Still, I- I can’t help wondering if, maybe, if there was something-”

“Miles, if you want to make it up to me, help me with all of this, alright?” Phoenix asked. Miles was quiet for a moment, but then nodded, “Now get back in there, yeah?”

Phoenix waited until Miles was back in the living room before walking a bit further down the hall. Once their voices were nothing more than a distance mumble, he let himself sink down to the floor, hands almost tearing through the pages, and silently cried.

Chapter Text

Eventually, the quartet of defense attorneys packed up their things. As much fun as it would be to work on the case late into the evening, there were preparations for real life that the entire group had to remember to stay on top of. Tomorrow would be Monday again. Klavier had a trial to prepare, the Fey’s had the rest of the conference, including a larger-scale presentation about more of the in depth technicalities to introducing spirit channeling into the court system. There was paperwork to finish and clients to watch out for or speak to, and Phoenix himself would likely be getting yet another case to work on. It was just one thing after another. 

While Shields, Mia, and Miles were talking with Klavier and about what files they’re allowed to take back to their office with them, Maya pulled Phoenix aside. She had that little quivering smirk she gets when she’s smiling but trying not to because she’s doing something she isn’t supposed to be, or has a prank all planned out and in the final stages. 

“Hand me the magatama really quick.” She requested, and after only a fraction of a second’s hesitation, Phoenix did just that. Maya held it in her hands, closing her eyes, and Phoenix was by now well-attuned to the sort of odd feeling in the air that came with Maya using her spiritual abilities. Like static electricity, or a sudden chill in the air, or a strange smell. It’s hard to explain the feeling, exactly, but Phoenix was able to see the green charm begin to ever-so-faintly glow. The familiar warmth was there when Maya dropped it back into his hand. 

“You charged it.” It’s not a question, more of an observation, and Maya nodded proudy.

“If you’re going to have it, you might as well have it at it’s best. And you mentioned psyche-locks, so you know how to use it, right?” Maya checked.

“Yeah, well, like I said,” Phoenix went with ‘said’ instead of ‘shouted’, “You gave it to me it for a case and never asked for it back. It’s meant a lot to me.” 

“So we’re friends, then, where you’re from,” Maya more declared than said, “And we’re going to be friends here too! I can just tell!”

“Yeah, we’re going to be great friends.” Phoenix agreed, smiling. She gave him a hug. It took him by surprise at first and he froze up. When was the last time he’d gotten a hug from someone who wasn’t Trucy? Too long, he was starting to realize. It had been too long since a lot of things. Well, he was going to start to rectify all of that.  

They join back to the group, and while Miles seemed to have noticed that they went off together he didn’t say anything. Goodbyes were exchanged all around, and then Phoenix and Klavier were left alone in Phoenix’s house. Phoenix let out a big breath of air like he was deflating and went over to his uncomfortable couch, flopping down onto it. 

“ Ach, I’ll make dinner for us.” Klavier offered. Phoenix rifled through his pockets until he found his found and looked at the phone.

“God, it’s already that time? How does it feel like it should be both later and earlier than that?” Phoenix complained. 

“Time moves, well, oddly I suppose, when you’re doing whatever it is we’re doing.” Was Klavier extremely helpful thoughts. Phoenix snorted but didn’t disagree. 

“I know you’re only known me for a week, and this won’t really help my claim that I don’t really drink, but I think I’m just going to make another exception for tonight.” Phoenix decided. He was a grown man, he was allowed to make decisions like this. Klavier laughed at that. 

“Don’t worry, I believe you. I don’t think I’d be much better off in your situation. Most of your wines are in the cellar downstairs.” Klavier told him and Phoenix, with great effort, got off of the couch and wandered around until he found the door to the basement. He really needed to do a much more thorough exploration of the house eventually, but there always seemed to be something more pressing in the way. Well, who could blame him for putting the lives of his friends and family above finding out he owned a five thousand dollar vacuum cleaner or whatever weird and crazy thing he’d find next. 

Sure enough, there was a rather impressive rack of wines that Phoenix found, and he went through them, trying to figure out which one to bring up. He wished the fancy ass depressed man who owned this house had had more of a taste for beers or whiskey. Beer tasted terrible, but the cheap taste was something he’d become very familiar with whenever he needed just something to try and loosen the tension after a long day of work. Whiskey would be enough to knock him senseless and just rob him of the memory of the rest of the night if he was lucky, and he very much wanted to be that lucky. 

In the end, there was a bottle of moscato he managed to unearth from the pile. Klavier was well at work, cooking some pasta and heating up some sauce, putting seemingly whatever spices he could find in the shelves into the bland canned tomatoes. Some meatballs were thrown in as well, and Phoenix tossed the wine into the freezer to try and get it to somewhere a little below room temperature before breaking it open. 

“So what do you think?” Phoenix asked. Klavier hummed at first in response, taking his time to mull over the question. 

“Of your breakfast? Outstanding, Herr Vogel, you must share that pancake recipe with me sometime.” 

“Well, like I said, it’s actually a waffle recipe. But what did you think about the defense?” It had occured to Phoenix, at some point during the day, that he’d never actually asked how Klavier felt about letting those people in particular into this entire fiasco. Oh, sure, Klavier had been asking for absolutely any help at all at one point, but that didn’t necessarily mean he’d been okay with Phoenix’s decision, just glad for what he had gotten.

“I like them. I’ve always followed Frau Fey’s career with some interest - both of them, in fact. Even all the way back in my Themis years, talks about what spirit channeling could mean for the judicial world was starting to be speculated about. I had a class that had us try and devise uses for it, and more important, device times when it made sense not to use it. Half of the team was supposed to look at it from a lawyerly point of view, while the other half was asked to try researching Khura’in to try and get that sort of view on it. But I’m sure you’re not interested in hearing about my old school days.’ 

Actually, that sounded like it would’ve been very interesting, but Phoenix forced himself to stay on topic. 

“But do you trust them?” He pressed. 

“I want to. I mean, I know them from court. I know they’re good lawyers, but I never got the chance to get to know them outside of work. I trust you, and you trust them, so that’s good enough for me.” 

“Are you sure it should be?” 

“Should be?” Klavier repeated, giving the pasta a stir, almost without thought. 

“You think so highly of my opinion, and I understand that’s not for no reason, but your opinions still matter, you know? I mean, from what you told me, this entire thing was kind of your operation in the beginning. Really, I should be checking with you before I decide or do anything.” Phoenix pointed out. 

“Well, to be completely transparent here, there wasn’t really any kind of ‘operation’ before you got involved. It was just me with my theory and bad feelings that I didn’t want to be true, so I sat on it for years.” Klavier said. He turned off the stove and served up the spaghetti, and then pulled the wine out and poured them both glasses, “You know, I never really thought of myself as someone who’d drink on a work night, but sometimes reputation is created to be ruined.” 

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” Phoenix groaned, dragging a hand down his face, “I really don’t drink much - at all, really - but especially not when I know there’s something important the next day. But I really couldn’t give a shit about work right now, and I can’t believe I have to go back there tomorrow.” Phoenix took a sip of his wine, relishing the warmth at the back of the throat. 

“You know, you really don’t have to be so defensive about drinking, Herr Vogel. We’re both adults here.” Klavier said. 

“It’s a habit. I never liked alcohol, but I did drink bottles of grape juice back at the Borscht Bowl Club. It looked like I was drinking, though, so people would lower their guard and expectations. Of course, because I had Trucy, I never wanted there to actually be a reason for somebody to try and take her away because they thought I didn’t have what it took to parent her. She was the one thing I couldn’t bear losing.” Phoenix rattled off. Miles had asked him the same question once. Phoenix understood, he did. It must seem strange just how defensive and insistent Phoenix would get over his grape juice, but his reasoning was clear and solid, at least to himself. 

“... that actually reminds me of something I wanted to ask.” Klavier said, picking through his pasta like it was the most interesting thing that had happened all day. 

“I’m guessing, like everyone else, this isn’t going to be a question actually relevant to the case.” Phoenix sighed. Klavier nodded with a hint of sheepishness as well as something else clouding his eyes. 

“Earlier, you said that the forged piece of evidence was a diary page.”

“Is it not?” Phoenix’s brow scrunched up. 

“ Ja, it is, but I don’t remember ever telling you what the forged evidence was. There’s been this, well, this thought that’s been bothering me: Herr Vogel, in your version of events, did you… were you on the other side of the courtroom? Were you defending Zak Gramarye?” Klavier’s eyes were deadly serious as he asked, and Phoenix blinked, taken by surprise at the question. It wasn’t something he’d really meant to hide, it’d just never come up. And again, he really didn’t want the other to get distracted with what had happened in another world, that was his problem, not theirs. 

“I was.” Phoenix admitted. Klavier chewed a piece of pasta very slowly, and Phoenix ate some of his, waiting for Klavier to elaborate. 

“You presented it to the court.” It wasn’t a question. Phoenix let Klavier’s proclamation sit between them, though, before finally nodding. 

“I did.” 

“And I called you out on it.”

“Not you, per se-”

“But I was me. I fell right into Kristoph’s hands then. DId I even know what he’d done?” Klavier demanded. 

“... no. I don’t think you suspected anything, really, until just recently.” Phoenix said. Klavier coughed out a laugh that sounded painful.

“So I destroyed your reputation then, didn’t I? I know for a fact it would’ve ruined Herr Edgeworth’s. You know, here, you’re known as ‘the Turnabout Terror’, always turning at rail around in your favor at the last minute. If you were ever caught with forged evidence-”

“I know. It,” Phoenix drew in a long and deep breath, not wanting to hurt Klavier further, not wanting to ever have this conversation with any Klavier, but apparently it was time, “It did ruin my reputation. I actually got disbarred over it.”

“Fuck,” Klavier said with feeling. He sipped at his wine and Phoenix followed suit. When Klavier was done drinking, he again said, “Fuck.” 

“I don’t blame you, if that’s what you’re wondering. I wasn’t careful enough, and that falls on my shoulders.” 

“But I-”

“Was doing your job. It’s the job of the prosecution to hold the defense accountable. In the perfect cases, it’s a give and take, a partnership, and I broke my end by not being careful with what I was given. I was used to miraculous changes, perfect evidence falling into my lap from the help of my friends, and so I got complacent.” Phoenix said clearly, trying to convey to Klavier just how much it wasn't this fault. 

“You must hate me.” Klavier’s voice was soft as he stared into his drink.

“Hey, look at me,” Phoenix slammed his hands on the table, getting him the attention he was aiming for, “I don’t, but even if I did, you’re not him.”

“Only if you see things your way.” Klavier pointed out, and Phoenix hesitated before firming his resolve. 

“Even in that case, then my anger is misplaced. The only person who deserves that is Kristoph, and trust me when I say he gets all the anger I have in me.” Phoenix assured him. 

As the rest of the meal passed, only the sound of eating and drinking filled the too-big house. Phoenix wondered what was going on inside of Klavier, what he was thinking. He wasn’t sure what else to say to convince the man that it wasn’t his fault, and Phoenix didn’t blame him for it, never had. That wasn’t to say that Phoenix had never felt any bitterness to the young upstart he’d met in court that day, but those initial feelings had faded quickly. Klavier had only been a kid then, anyway. 

They both got up and washed the dishes, and it would’ve been in silent, but for some reason Phoenix thought it only fair to say what had been on his mind all day as well. He blamed the slight buzz he had going through him for the decision. 

“Klavier, what if I am just crazy?” He asked, “What if I really am the Phoenix you know, and I’m all just scrambled and messed up inside of my head? The only proof I have is that magatama, but Maya told me that he’s lost hers. For all we know, this is that magatama, and I made a whole big fuss over nothing, and I lied to them, and I’m just insane for trying to insist that my whole version of events over everything.” 

“Even if all of that is true, you’re not insane,” Klavier defended. Phoenix leveled him with a look, “You’re not! Have a little more faith in yourself, Herr Vogel. And whether you’re right or wrong, whatever the truth is, you wouldn’t be doing anything differently, would you?”

“I guess not…” Phoenix admitted. It wasn’t as if he was trying to get back home - and it wasn’t like he didn’t want to be back home! Just that, at some point early on, he figured he’d end up back there like he ended up here - suddenly and without warning. Nothing to do but wait it out. And, of course, rather early on, Klavier had set a far more pressing matter right in front of Phoenix. 

“If you need to, look at it my way, Herr Vogel. No matter what, you’re still the brilliant man I always knew, and together we’re going to save lives. That’s all that matters.”

“You’re right. That’s all that matters.” Saving lives, really, was the only thing that had ever mattered with Phoenix's job, wasn’t it? Klavier dried the last plate, putting it into the cupboard, and yawned so loudly it could only be faked. 

“Well, we’d both best be getting to bed, ja? A long day ahead of us, I’m sure.” 

“Klavier,” Phoenix stopped him before the man could walk off into the living room and pretend to be asleep under the blankets. Klavier stopped and turned, looking just as exhausted and Phoenix felt, “Klavier, I… if nothing else, I’m glad that you’re by my side throughout all of this.”

An honest smile flickered into life on Klavier’s face. 

“I’m glad you’re here, too, Herr Vogel. ”

Chapter Text

The waves lapped against his legs, already up to his thighs.

He couldn’t leave, not  yet.

There was someone who needed him. He was sure of it. 

Pain like he’d never felt before. 

Screams of anger, fury, sorrow. 

The water all around him.

Nothing.

Nothing.

Nothing.

oOo

Phoenix awoke groggily the next morning. He hadn’t drunk nearly enough to have a hangover, but there was still this odd shiver as he come to consciousness that made him pull the blanket even closer around him. With reluctance, he sat up, stretching as best he could with one arm still in a cast. His eyes caught on the glowing, newly charged magatama where it lied on his side table right next to the anxiety medication, and it brought a smile to his face despite the well of feelings that also bubbled up inside of him at the sight of it. Well, no time like the present to get up. 

Phoenix had already found where the other him had kept his jewelry. A lot of it wasn’t really his taste, but he wasn’t really looking for anything at the moment. The diamond shaped gold earrings were working just fine for him right now. Finally, he found a necklace with a long chain made of small links and slipped the pendant off of it, replacing it with the magatama. He slipped it over his head and looked in the mirror, tryign to decide whether to slip the charm underneath his shirt ot let it lay where it was. In the end, he decided to just let it stay out in the open. If anybody asked, he’d come up with something. Hell, the whole ‘it was given to my by a close friend’ was just fine reasoning. 

There were plenty of pancakes left to make up breakfast, and Phoenix warmed some up for Klavier. Klavier strolled into the room, already put together. Phoenix wouldn’t put it past the man to carry his makeup on him at all times for emergencies. Trucy, ever the performer and ready for anything, was a lot like that. 

“How was the couch?” Phoenix asked. 

“Good as it ever is.” Klavier replied, Despite how awake he looked, his voice still had that ‘first words I’ve spoken in eight hours’ sound to it, betraying him. 

“I swear I saw a guest room here.” Phoenix said, looking around as if he was looking through the walls to find said guest room. Not that it had occurred to Phoenix to think of it until now, but wasn’t there…?

“That would be your sister’s room. I’m sure she wouldn’t notice if somebody took up residency there, but I wouldn’t want to risk it.” Klavier replied. 

“Hm,” Phoenix considered, “Would you want a room here?” That gave Klavier pause. 

“I do spend more than enough time here to warrant it. Although, if we truly are close to catching mein Bruder, I probably won’t spend as much time here after that. I’d be a shame to put in so much effort for nothing.” 

“Then it’d just be a guest bedroom. Really, no harm no foul.” Phoenix said. Klavier smiled. 

“Well, when we next get the chance do you want to start shopping around?” He sounded like he was trying to make it sound like a joke, but there was a hint of excitement and hope in his voice that he couldn’t hide. 

“Soon as we get some time to spare.”

‘Time to spare’ was not something they had at the moment, however. 

Work papers were thrown into briefcases and bags as the two hurried to the car to get back to work. Klavier had put off and extended work on his own case as much as he could at this point. The trial would be today. Klavier used the time in the car to talk over the details with Phoenix. He’d be facing off against a rookie, it sounded like, and Phoenix didn’t envy him having to go against someone so ill-trained. Hard to trust an attorney still wet behind the ears. Klavier would probably have to do much of the heavy lifting. Still, Klavier sounded sure in his theory and ready to do his best. 

Surprisingly enough, Phoenix did not get handed a new case file. There wasn’t one waiting for him, there wasn’t one delivered to him, Von Karma didn’t call him to his office to hand him a new one. Eventually, more curious and confused than actually worried or wanting to work, Phoenix asked the prosecutor whose office was right next to his. Apparently, she also hadn’t gotten anything new either, but with her own confusion said that wasn’t strange for when Von Karma was busy like this to give everybody a bit of a break. Phoenix highly doubted the lack of new cases was due to anything so courteous as a break, but he didn't correct her, just nodded and went back to finishing off paperwork in his office. 

It wasn’t long until he got restless, continually looking up from what he was doing, and then finally decided he wasn’t going to get anything else done. A thought he’d had yesterday continually nagged at him, and so he wrote a little ‘gone, be back later’ note and put it on his desk just in case Klavier stopped by. He left most of his things behind, like an additional promise of his expectations to come back, and left the office. 

It was lucky for Phoenix that the bus schedules were the same here. He had no trouble getting on one and heading to where he wanted to go. He stopped by a flower shop first, staring at the different arrangements, unsure which one to buy. Phoenix was actually somewhat of a pro at buying bouquets by now, at placing them on graves. Mia got one on her birthday and Gregory got one on the day he died. But they were easy to shop for; defense lawyers got sunflowers. What were you supposed to get parents? 

The clerk working in the shop seemed to have noticed his hesitation and helped him choose a small but pretty arrangement. No sunflowers in it, and maybe that was right in this world. His mom had never known him as a lawyer, but definitely not as a defense lawyer. He almost left with just the one bouquet, but there was another pre-made one that he couldn’t stop himself from staring at. They were flowers he remembered seeing in front of Engarde’s room on the fateful night. Just seeing them made those old emotions stir up within him, and a bad idea came into his mind. On his own, though, there was nobody to tell Phoenix not to do it.

He bought it with only half a plan in mind. 

Klavier had told Phoenix where the cemetery was during the car ride, when Phoenix had slowly softly asked where his mom was buried. It was nice to hear that once a year Phoenix went to visit. She deserved the company. Another busride, with Phoenix getting a lot of stares for all the flowers he was carrying. He kept his own gaze out the window, watching the so familiar city pass by. It looked like home. He was going to make it home. 

It was the same cemetery that Gregory Edgeworth had been laid to rest in PHoenix’s time, and Phoenix found himself wondering if he was here again, six feet below, just as dead, but a corpse that was a god fifteen years older than it had been. He had a more important thing to do right now. 

His mother’s tombstone looked well maintained, at least. Phoenix set the first bouquet down before her and stood back. Back home, his mom lived so far away that he never visited. If he ever made it back to his world, that would be one of the first things he’d do, go and give her the biggest hug. 

“When this is over,” Phoenix says, voice barely louder than a whisper, “I promise I’ll avenge you. Von Karma has gone unchecked for far too long as is. But knowing that he’s responsible for this…” Phoenix’s hand, clenched into a fist, shook with the surge of anger roaring through him. He didn’t care what it was going to take, he was going to reveal Von Karma for the monster he was, and then he’d get started gutting the rancid system. People, bad and good, might not like it, or might lose their jobs, but a system this corrupt couldn’t be careful. No scalpel was good enough to pick out only the good parts. 

At least, that’s what Phoenix thought right now. He hadn’t given it a hard look just yet, but he doubted it was any better than back in his world. If nothing else, it’d be worse. 

“I don’t know if I’m really your son or not, or how that all goes, but I miss you. And I’m sorry this happened to you. And I love you.” Phoenix told the cold hard stone before him. It didn’t answer him, but he liked to imagine that the breeze that tore through a second later, maybe that was her. Maya had never told him how much ghosts were real in the way of sticking around. It was probably just his imagination. 

He got back up after a while, with no idea of how much time had passed, and walked back to the bus station. Time to get to his next destination. In the thin reflection of the bus window, he fixed his hair, straightened his long suit jacket, and made sure his cravat didn’t look too ridiculous. The warm and soft and sad emotions from before were shoved harshly to the side. He was Phoenix Wright, High Prosecutor or Defense Attorney or Poker Player. Any title, it meant that he was a force to be reckoned with. Especially in the court, but just as much outside of it as well. 

When the bus reached the stop he was looking for, Phoenix had plenty of time walking to the office to change his mind. He was already set on it, though. 

Gavin Law Office was in gold letters on the door. Tilted his head from side to side, ready to face the man who would be on the other side, and entered into the office. 

“Oh! Hi, welcome to the Gavin Law Office!”

Phoenix didn’t flinch at all at the volume he was greeted with. If anything, it forced a smile to tug on his face. 

“P-Prosecutor Wright! I, uh, don’t think we had a case against you, recently?” Apollo was sitting at a desk, a couple piles of paperwork on either side of him. He seemed untouched by the differences, by the time, by the other world. Well, untouched with the exception of his own little magatama hanging from his neck. Curious, but not the time to ask about that. 

“We don’t. Mr. Gavin was just kind enough to send me flowers a bit ago, and I thought I’d return the favor.” Phoenix lifted the flowers to punctuate his point. Apollo’s face turned apologetic. 

“Ah, um, Mr. Gavin isn’t in right now. He’s at the Judiciary Conference.” Apollo’s expression turned into a slightly bitter one.

“Upset about that?” Phoenix asked. 

“N-no!” Apollo quickly defended and Phoenix chuckled, setting the flowers down on a random desk. 

“I’m not going to ‘tell on you’ to Gavin or anything. Were you hoping to go?” Phoenix pressed. Apollo hesitated for a moment, but then sheepishly nodded. 

“I know somebody should stay back at the office, look out for customers and get some work done, but I mean, I was kind of hoping… the Feys are there, you know?”

“The Feys?” Phoenix repeated in surprise. There were a couple couches in the office, probably to have casual conversations about the cases with the Coolest Defense in the West, and Phoenix sat down. Apollo came over, sitting opposite of Phoenix, and nodded. 

“Yeah, Maya and Mia Fey. I’ve, well, I’ve been following their careers for a while, I guess.” Apollo admitted. 

“Not Edgeworth?” Phoenix asked.

“Well, not that Mr. Edgeworth isn’t a good lawyer, but he’s not doing what the Feys are doing, you know? They’re trying to change the system, and have you read up on Ms. Mia Fey’s proposed plans to integrate channelings. Back h- or, in Khura’in, the judicial system is kind of messed up, but there are some things that I think could be really benefic- o,.” Apollo cut himself off, scratching the back of his head, “Sorry. Mr. Gavin says I have a tendency to go on too long. You came to talk to him, not me.”

“No, it’s alright, I’m actually also very interested in what the Feys are doing,” Phoenix said and Apollo perked up a bit more, “I mean, I did come all the way here, I don’t mind talking to you A- or, Mr…?” 

“Apollo Justice, sir!” Apollo shouted loudly. 

“I actually was able to attend one of the Feys lectures a couple days ago. I can tell you about it if you want.” 

“Really?” Apollo grinned. 

“Yeah.”

Chapter Text

Apollo, somewhat to Phoenix’s surprise, was well versed on the whole spirit channeling subject. He was familiar with a lot of the points and such that Phoenix reiterated to him, nodding along and adding some thing that hadn’t been said. His interest seemed to be mostly in the questions that were asked and the answers that went along with them,.

“Wow, I had no idea you were so interested in spirit channeling.” Phoenix whistled, leaning back. Apollo nodded enthusiastically, his nervousness having left him early on in the conversation as he got more uncomfortable. 

“Well, it’s not just about spirit channeling, you know. It’s about enacting a real change on the system. I mean, spirit channeling has plenty of faults. Even the dead can lie, or get confused, and I’ll be the first person to cry out against it if something insane was said, like, channeling becoming the only evidence being used in court.” Apollo said. 

“You mean like the trail system in Khura’in.” Phoenix caught on. 

“Exactly! Khura’in’s Judicial system is an absolute mess! Ms. Fey has been doing leaps and bounds in progress in her time over there - you know she’s the only active and living Defense Attorney - but even then, I think it’s only the political unrest and friction between the two nations that’s keeping something from happening to her. They need somebody more on the inside, something bigger, to really solve their problems.” Apollo’s passion on the topic showed through with his raising volume. 

“Given that a lot of thought, have you?” Phoenix half-teased. 

“W-well, that is to say…” Apollo’s hand went to his magatama fiddling with it. Phoenix took note of the lack of glow to it, “I was able to spend some time in Khura’in last summer, and there were a lot of things that you really only learn from seeing or experiencing it first hand.” 

“How did you get a magatama, anyway? Do they just sell them in gift shops over there?” Phoenix asked. Apollo stopped fiddling with it long enough to get a good look at it himself. 

“I mean, I guess anybody can carve a rock to look like this, but I get what you’re asking. Um, an old friend, actually, gave it to me while I was down there. I think that, uh, it was kind of like proof of his acceptance and approval of me? It made my trip go a lot smoother afterwards.” Apollo muddled through. It was clear he wasn’t saying something, but Phoenix let that lie where it was. There’d be a chance to ask him later, because this was not going to be the last time Phoenix talked to Apollo. That was a promise, “What about yours?” 

Phoenix had almost forgotten he was wearing it and he reached up to touch it.

“Same thing. A friend gave it to me.” 

“And your arm?” Apollo pressed, jumping subjects at the chance, and Phoenix wondered if the man had been wanting to ask that since Phoenix had come in.

“I got hit by a car a few days ago. Nothing for you to worry about.” Phoenix assured him. Apollo flinched, and Phoenix saw his hand go to his bracelet. Ah, so he was already aware of that ability. Did Kristoph know about it? Was Kristoph aware of just what kind of brilliant lawyer he had in his office? 

Well, not for long, hopefully. Phoenix was 100% going to poach this kid. Or, well, he’d get the Edgeworth & Fey Law Offices to poach him.

“You got hit by a car?” Apollo repeated, gaze sharpened now. 

“Yes.” Phoenix replied. 

“... and it’s nothing for me to worry about?” Even as Apollo said that, his brow scrunched up with confusion. Phoenix could easily follow his thoughts. Whatever in the world did High Prosecutor Phoenix Wright getting hit by a car have to do with Apollo?

“Don’t hurt yourself trying to figure that out.” Phoenix said with a smirk, leaning back. 

“What?” 

“Listen, just trust that whatever’s going on, I have a plan.” Phoenix said. 

“... why did you come here today, Prosecutor Wright?” Apollo asked with clear caution now. 

“I wanted to give Gavin some flowers,” Phoenix nodded over to the bouquet. The trepidation didn’t leave Apollo’s face yet, “And now I’m just enjoying a conversation with you. But, it looks like maybe I overstayed my welcome.” Phoenix sat up, rolling his neck out. Apollo stood up too. 

“...” Apollo looked torn between asking something over letting things be. Phoenix had no such hang up.

“Actually, while I’m here, I guess there is something left I’d like to ask you,” He probably imagined the literally growing of energy in the room, of a undefinable sort of power, “Do you know if Kristoph Gavin has been up to or doing anything odd or suspicious recently?” 

The word shut down around Phoenix, nothing but darkness, as chains rattled across Apollo, two bright red locks snapping into place. Phoenix eyed them. Yes, he’d already overstayed his welcome, and he wouldn't be tackling these today, but knowing they were here to begin with…

“No, I don’t.” Apollo looked away from Phoenix as he lied to his face. Phoenix just smirked, stuffing his only good hand into his pocket. 

“I liked talking to you today, Apollo. We should talk again some time.” 

He left without another word back to Apollo, and Apollo didn’t say anything back, just standing and watching him leave. 

It made Phoenix sad, seeing that much caution on Apollo’s face. It hurt for a different way than anything else had here. Because this, oh this was largely unchanged, wasn’t it? How much closer was he to Apollo back home than he was to the one here? There was a degree of trust there, trust built through what they’d been through together, but… maybe Phoenix hadn’t been the best of a mentor so far. He’d been hoping to change that in the weeks and months and maybe even years after, but mending what Phoenix had put Apollo through in those first few months of their relationship was something that he’d just kept putting further and further off, just like almost every other aspect of his life. 

If he got home, it was more than time to start fixing that. 

Fixing that with this Apollo… well, any sort of relationship with the man would need to come first, and that would need to be after this mess.

Phoenix got back to the office around the time he’d usually leave and found Klavier waiting for him. He had made himself comfortable at Phoenix’s desk, feet propped up on the table, filling out some paperwork. There was a pensive expression on his face, but his face practically lit up upon seeing Phoenix enter. 

“Oh, Herr Vogel ! Nice to see you’re back. Do anything fun?” He asked, raising a hand and waving. 

“Visiting my mom’s grave.” Phoenix said and Klavier nodded.

“I hope that went well. My… sincerest apologies.” He said sadly and with clear empathy on the matter. There was really so little Phoenix knew about Klavier, but now didn’t seem like the right time to break into such sad matters. 

“How’d your case go?” Phoenix asked. The same look from before flashed onto Klavier’s face. 

“Fine, I suppose. But… well, there was that too perfect evidence again. I knew there might be, after not investigating myself. It was correctly documented by the police and everything. By all rights, it was normal evidence, but it had that… feeling,” Klavier sighed angrily, slapping a hand on the documents he’d been filling out, “I did think the defendant was guilty, and I got my verdict, but still…”

“Meddling in your case is never good.” Phoenix agreed. 

“Well, it’s just another case for the files,” Klavier sighed, straightening the papers and standing up, “Let’s be off, then. Mr. Shields texted me earlier to say he was already at your house. He has some theories and questions he’d like to go over in person.”

“Aren’t you going to turn those papers in first?” Phoenix asked even as he gathered his own things. It’d all been mostly untouched. 

“Oh, right. This is our personal copy. Whenever we notice something odd about a case, we’ve been collecting them and storing them in your file cabinets at your house. That way, once we get around to Von Karma, we’ll already have plenty to start with.” Klavier explained. 

“Wow, we really had quite the operation and planning in the works.” 

“Yes, we do.” Klavier said with a bit of pride and a smile. 

Just like Klavier had said, there was a car parked outside of Phoenix’s house when they arrived, with Shields sitting on the steps. He lifted a hand in greeting upon seeing them and met them as they climbed out of the car.

“Just you today?” Phoenix asked.

“Yeah, only one availible. Maya and Mia are still busy, and Miles is heading over to Hazakura.”

“What about your office?” Klavier asked and Ray shrugged.

“Eh, we don’t have a case right now. If it’s important, I’m sure they’ll call or come back. Helping people stay out of jail for murder might be fine, but I’ve got to say preventing some murders seems like just as good a cause. Not to mention, it is to probably save the lives of my family.” Shields explained as he followed them inside. 

“ Ach, ja, that makes sense.” Klavier conceded, “It must be nice to just shut down the office whenever you need to.”

“Phenomenal, actually. I’d do it more often if I wouldn’t then feel the ‘not-angry-just-disappointed’ ghost of Gregory Edgeworth haunting me.” Shields laughed, putting his hands together as if in prayer and looking upwards. Phoenix supposed being haunted by the ghost of Gregory was a very real possibility with the Fey’s in the office. He looked around Shields, almost as if expecting to see the ghost there, but that creeping chill-like spirit channeling wasn’t here anyway, and he could only recall a handful of times when he thought he might have seen a ghost. Those times were probably just his imagination.

“If it’s just the three of us, I don’t see any reason not to use the actual office tonight.” Klavier suggested, leading the way to said room. He took the long way around so that he could grab an extra chair from the dining room.

“Good, because if I have to spend another few hours with that portrait of Wright staring down at me, I might just think he’s trying to flirt.” Shields said and then laughed at whatever expression must have crossed Phoenix’s face at that point. He patted Phoenix on the back, “Hey, don’t worry, I’m just teasing you. Nah, I’m not going to steal Miles’ man from him just when his prospects started looking up.”

“WH-WHAT?!” Phoenix shouted and this time Klavier laughed along with Shields. 

“Damn, I remember how the kid used to go on and on about you back in the day. But, well, I guess It’s not my place to say.” He winked, the crows feet at the corners of his eyes more pronounced than ever. 

“Really? Herr Vogel never said he knew Herr Edgeworth on the personal level.” Klavier was clearly enjoying this as the three of them got settled into the office. There were already two chairs in there, and Phoenix took the one at the desk while Klavier immediately went to the other one, falling into it with the absolute familiarity of someone who had sat there countless times before. 

“They go way back. They were in elementary school together! In fact, you could say that Phoenix was the defendant of Miles first case. He used to brag about it all the time.” Shields recounted.

“He did?” Phoenix said, unable to stop the smile. 

“You remember that, then?” 

“Yeah, that’s something that isn’t different. I remember that day well. I hope that the Phoenix you knew also remembered it fondly.” Phoenix said, letting the memory of that class trial wash over him for a moment. 

“Alright, that’s it, I’m not taking any more of that,” Shield declared, “Maya and I have decided that we’re going to call ‘you’ Nick and the ‘other you’ Feenie.”

“I’d really rather not have any version of myself called Feenie, but Nick is fine.” Phoenix said. 

“I’m sure we’ll think of something else, then. Feen? Fiend? Wrighto? Anyway, enough of that, let’s get to work. I wrote down some of the thoughts and questions we’ve been tossing around, and- oh fuck why do you have that.” 

Raymond had sat down and started pulling out his papers when all the lightheartedness drained out of him at the drop of a hat. 

“Uh-” Phoenix started to say and Raymond pointed forward.

“That! The Thinker! Why the hell do you have the Thinker? And you better not give me some bullshit about finding it at a department store - I’ve heard that one before and it wasn’t convincing then either.” Raymond demanded. 

“Oh. That… I’m not sure about.” Phoenix admitted, looking over it. There it was, right where he’d seen it a couple days ago. 

“The Thinker? Herr Vogel’s always had that.” Klavier, the only one in the room with a shred of idea what that damned clock was doing here, reached forward without hesitation and tilted the clock’s head. 

“Hm, I think it’s… 5:47.” The statue said.

“Always, huh? That’s interesting.” Raymond folded his arms, staring the little clock down. 

“... Mein Gott, it isn’t paint, is it?” Klavier said with dawning realization, staring at the dark brownish-red on the statue's base. 

“No, that would be Mia and Mr. Edgeworth’s blood. Or I guess it could be Larry’s dead girlfriend, but that seems more unlikely.” 

“So that’s the same too. When I saw that clock… I don’t know what I thought, but I know I hoped that wasn’t the same.” Phoenix sighed. 

“You’re familiar with it, then?” Raymond asked. Phoenix nodded. 

“In the most unfortunate way. Again, I don’t want to get into details, but I remember it as a murder weapon.” 

“That clock… we got one of them back, you know, destroyed it together just for the fun of it. Larry cried, sure, but whatever. The other one probably got thrown away or something after the case. I just can’t believe…” Raymond trialed off as he reached forward, hesitating before grabbing the statue, hand shaking just a bit. Klavier and PHoenix watched him in silence as he inspected it… and then his jaw dropped, “No. Shit.”

“What?” Phoenix sat forward, on the edge of his seat now about this all.

“Larry’s signature,” Raymond flipped the statue around so that Phoenix and Klavier could see what he was trying to show them. Or rather, what he couldn’t show them, “It doesn’t have it.”

Chapter Text

Little progress was made that night. Whether that was because Ray had little to add, or because all three of them kept staring at the statue instead of at the casefiles and evidence reports, well, Phoenix was willing to bet it was much more a case of the latter. In the end, Ray got a plastic bag from Phoenix’s kitchen and put it in there, making sure not to touch it. Not that there was any point in that, considering both Klavier and Ray had just touched it, but it was the spirit of the thing. 

“I’ll be showing this to Larry, just double checking that it’s not his.” Ray told them before he left. 

“And then?” Klaver prompted. Ray shrugged. 

“Then, well, nothing, probably. We’ll have confirmation that old Feenie forged something, but other than that, we have bigger and more threatening fish to fry.” Ray looked like he was trying to be nonchalant about the whole situation, and he wasn’t doing a bad job of it, but Phoenix caught on to the man’s nervous ticks soon enough. Not even Ray himself really believed that there was nothing to all of this, that it would just end with ‘well, guess he forged evidence’. 

But Ray was also right that they had bigger worries, and so the matter was momentarily put out of their minds as Ray left and Phoenix and Klavier caught some sleep for the next day. Neither of them said anything about the matter until the next morning, on the way to work, where Phoenix broke the silence, asking, 

“So, do you know anything about the Thinker?” 

Klavier sighed, long and hard, clearly having been waiting anxiously for Phoenix to finally ask about it. 

“Nein, I’m afraid I’ll be no help on that matter. Herr, ah, ‘Feenie’ has had it for as long as I’ve known him. I thought it was simply an odd novelty clock that he had on his desk. Who was I to judge him on his choice of knick knacks?” Klavier said. Phoenix almost asked once more that they come up with a different nickname for the other version of himself, but it did seem to be a losing battle. Perhaps if he came up with something himself…

“I guess it’s not work worrying about for now,” Phoenix admitted, “At least not until the others know about it and try to chew us out for details we don’t have."

“ Ja, I can’t wait for that!... although it is, somewhat, a shame that we can’t simply ask the man himself about it.” Klavier’s eyes stayed locked on the road, but Phoenix still had the feeling Klavier was avoiding looking at him. 

They went their separate ways when they got into the office, and Phoenix found a new casefile on his desk. He gave it a cursory flip-through, checking out the details. A murder case, because of course it was. A man, dead in his apartment, head roughly hacked off. The gorey details were all there, but already Phoenix could tell it was lacking some of the finer details. The trial day would be a few days away still, so he had plenty of time to formulate his own theory. That was certainly a positive to being a prosecutor: getting more time that anybody could ever need to work on the scene of the crime. He definitely understood why his own Edgeworth always walked into trials looking so prepared and confident. 

Of course, being a defense attorney, that also meant PHoenix was also aware just how much one could miss, even with all that time and resources. 

He had just started his second read-through, intent on making notes of all the details he found significant or worth further investigation, when his office phone rang. He picked it, half curoius and half dreading what he may be answered with. 

“Hello?”

“Prosecutor Wright, there’s a Ms. Fey here to see you.” 

“Oh, Fey?” The last time Maya had visited him at the office it hadn’t been great exactly, but it hadn’t been bad either. Not to mention, now they had a much better understanding of each other, “Go ahead and send her up.”

“Right away, sir.”

He listened for the sound of footsteps and perked up as the door to his office swung open. Sure enough, a Ms. Fey came in, but it wasn’t the one he’d been expecting. 

It wasn’t as if there were a lot of different ways to go about standing in a doorway, but still, Phoenix couldn’t help but to remember that last time the two of them had met in this room, in these positions. He’d made a fool of himself and then gotten hit by a car with the neat broken-arm souvenier to show for it.

To Mia’s credit, she, too, looked like she was on the same - if not just a similar - train of thought. She shifted back and forth on her feet, looking like she was doing her best to keep her eyes on Phoenix himself and not looking around his room. Yes, this would probably be the first time she got a good look of it. Not that it was any invasion of Phoenix’s privacy, on any level. 

“Ch- Mia, I didn’t expect you.” He admitted. 

“No, I figured you wouldn’t.” 

“Don’t you have presentations to be, uh, presenting?” Phoenix asked. She shook her head.

“Not until later, and Maya is taking notes of the other presentations for me.” Mia explained. 

“Okay. So… what brings you here?” Phoenix allowed the cold and plain mask to flip over his features, almost more for his own comfort than to actually try and hide things from the familiar stranger before him. 

“I wanted to know if you’d be willing to step out for a cup of coffee.” 

Phoenix blinked slowly as he considered the offer. He supposed it couldn’t hurt, could it? Well, so long as he avoided shoving his entire foot into his mouth at some point, or running off and getting hit by a car this time. Hopefully if he did get his by another car, it’d finish the job. 

… no, he didn’t really mean that. 

“I’ve got nothing better to do.” Phoenix admitted, shuffling some papers superfluously and then standing up. He tried to avoid staring too openly at her. 

“Great,” Mia smiled, “Then why don’t we head out?”

He trailed after her, each step like wading through the memories of the past, a torrent of half-conceived thoughts that he let pass by without grabbing. He wasn’t even at the ‘getting coffee’ part of this yet, where she was surely going to be asking him questions, and he was going to be sitting right across from her, and he needed to hold up any sort of breakdown until then.

They walked to the coffee shop. It wasn’t too far from the prosecutor’ office, especially when you weren’t caring about how long the walk was going to take. They didn’t say a word to one another, as if by some unspoken agreement they wanted to hold off until they both had arrived at the destination. She was wearing a smart suit today, like she’d been wearing at his house the other day. He was glad it wasn’t the acolyte-like clothes she’d worn when she’d first appeared in his office. It looked too much like when she was being channeled by Maya.

It was a small coffee shop they entered, The Bitter Brew, and Phoenix welcomed the dark smell as they entered. There were a few people sitting at tables, many of whom were tapping away at laptops while nursing steam cups. A brown and black service dog was lying in front of the counter, seemingly napping away. Phoenix had to do a double take at the man behind the counter. 

Godot’s wild mane of hair had been pulled back into a wild ponytail, still white as snow. The visor didn’t sit across his face anymore, instead wearing a pair of red-lensed glasses, the scar that ran across his face just under his eyes plain to see. The man was taking a long and deep sip of his own cup, eyes closed and then slowly opening. He smirked upon seeing them, straightening. In sync, the service dog sat up, tail thumping on the floor and looking up at Godot and then over at Mia, looking almost like she was grinning in excitement. 

“Well, if it isn’t the lion herself.” He said, voice deep and rumbling, and that part was familiar. 

“Good to see you too, Diego.” Mia said, voice warm and happy. The dog kept looking between Godot - no, Diego? - and Mia, and the man gave a laugh.

“Go on, Lotus,” The dog took off like a shot to run around Mia, hopping excitedly and nosing her and licking her hands. Mia pet the dog, making cooing noises, and Diego laughed again, “Oh, I see how it is. You’re only here for my dog, huh?”

“You’ve got me there.” Mia agreed. Diego walked aground the counter and the two of them hugged. Phoenix stayed out of the way. Lotus quickly went to her owner’s side, tail still wagging but loyally by Diego now that he was away from the counter. 

“And this is… Prosecutor Wright, I see.” Diego raised an eyebrow at Phoenix. Phoenix folded his arms, giving him a nod. 

“We’re having a cup and talking some things over.” Mia explained. 

“Well, no better place,” Diego said. He kissed Mia’s hand and she pushed him away, looking like she was a moment away from laughing again. He went back behind the counter and Lotus returned to her spot in front of it, “Your usual blend?” 

“As always.” Mia said and then looked back at Phoenix, nodded to the menu. 

“I’ll have…” Phoenix looked through the list. It was numbers next to brief descriptions of events or feelings. There, yes, his favorite of Godot’s, “Brew 142.”

“A good brew, that one,” Diego commented, but said nothing more, “Go on and have a seat, you two; I’ll bring them over once they’re ready.” 

“Thanks kitten.” Mia teased. Diego threw a coffee bean at her and she led Pheonix to a table far removed from everybody else. 

For a moment nothing was said, until finally Mia cast one look back at Diego and asked,

“So, do you know him?” 

Phoenix drummed his fingers. He hoped this wasn’t all this was going to be, but he also understood the kind of curiosity the defense attorney’s had. Well, he might as well get it over with.

“Yeah. Diego Armando. I’m guessing he’s not a defense attorney anymore. And I see he still had a run in with Dahlia.” He said, looking over Mia’s shoulders to the afromention man. 

“You are well informed, then,” All of the happiness and humor was gone now from Mia’s face, “No. He… he was never the same after what happened with Dahlia, after he woke up. So he runs this place now, and he consults off to the side. He’s as sharp as ever, really, he just doesn’t have the same… drive, I guess,” Mia sighed, “Is that not the same, then? You looked surprised to see him here.” 

“Diego’s in prison where I’m from. He should be getting out fairly soon, however.” Phoenix said. Mia’s brow scrunched up, but then she seemed to push aside whatever thoughts she’d been having with a shake of her head. 

“Not how I was planning to start this out. Actually, I wanted to apologize.” She said.

Phoenix blinked at her in confusion for a second. 

“... I was the one who yelled at you.” 

“Well, yes, but… I guess that’s what I get for being so rude to you.”

“You were doing what you thought was best for your family.” He defended her. Mia shook her head again. 

“It’s a good excuse, I’ll give you that. But I was doing it because I don’t like you. Or, I don’t like the other you. And… well, now that I know ‘who’ you are, that’s not very fair of me. It’d be like blaming Iris for what Dahlia did. So I’m sorry.”

Whatever Phoenix might’ve said in response was put off for a moment while Diego handed them their coffee. Phoenix brought his own to his lips. It was sweeter than the one he was familiar with, but the essence of it was still there. 

“I… I’m not mad at you. Or, I’m not still mad at you, not really. I could never stay mad at you,” Phoenix says, and then, tossing her a deliberate bone, “Chief.” 

“Who am I, to you?” She asked, a question he imagined had been dogging her for sometime now. 

“You were my mentor.” He said, and allowed the sad smile that tried to encapsulate everything about that sentence to flicker onto his face. 

“Your mentor… so, then, you’re really a defense attorney?”

“A wolf in sheep’s clothing or some kind of joke along those lines.” Phoenix nodded, taking another sip of the coffee. 

“No kidding.” She said, with a laugh that held little humor. She was staring at her own coffee with a deep kind of contemplation, as if expecting it would tell her what to say, what to do. 

And it’s Mia, it’s right in front of him, flesh and blood, and he wants to build and mend bridges even if he didn’t ruin them in the first place. 

“You know,” He says, as a hand drifts to his mouth where a scar no longer sits, “When we first met, I ate evidence.”

“You did what?!” Mia exclaimed. 

“A little glass bottle, right in the middle of a trial.” 

“I- you- what?” And this time the laugh that bubbles out of Mia sounds more real, more sincere, and Phoenix chases after it. 

“Oh yeah, it was terrible, but I was determined. God, you can’t even imagine the faces of everybody in court when they found out! So, It actually starts with Dahlia…”

Chapter Text

Mia walked Phoenix back to the office after they’ve both polished off their coffees. Their little meeting consisted mostly of them sharing stories back and forth, the more mundane the better. By the end, he didn’t necessarily feel like he knew Mia, but he ded feel more comfortable around her. The differences between this her and the other her were steadily becoming more and more clear. 

The rest of the work day, without talking to Mia, was boring as hell. Phoenix was tempted to take a nap, but forced himself to take the case on his desk seriously. There’s a man’s life in his hands, after all. It wasn’t something to be handled lightly. 

An hour before the work day was over, Phoenix decided to invade Klavier’s room, lying down on the floor in a way that was sure to ruin his back, and continuing to go over the pages. Klavier barely remarked about it, doing his own annotation of notes on his own court case. They even checked over each other’s work at one point, giving advice. Yet even knowing the stakes for the respective defendants, it all just felt like busywork, necessary for filling the time until they could get back to his house and get back to work on the important case, the one where they would hopefully, finally, at last, make some headway. Phoenix hadn’t said anything yet about the possible lead with Apollo, and he wouldn’t, but he made a mental note that he was going to have to follow up eventually. No need to get everybody excited, however, over something that might not lead to anything. 

Ray met them back at the house, once again with the Thinker. He was followed by Mia and Maya.

“We have our big presentation tomorrow, for the end of the conference, and then a few thing we need to sit in on, but other than that we’re free, and, well, we wanted to be here to talk about this.” Mia explained. Even Miles was there for this, in some regards. He’d hiked away from Hazakura just barely far enough that a highly-pixelated version of his face could be seen on the phone that Maya was diligently holding up. The Thinker was set on the coffee table like the defendant of a trial. 

“Larry confirmed it’s not his.” Ray finalized what they all already knew. 

“So… then what does it mean?” Maya asked. 

“It’s not like it’s technically illegal,” Klavier folded his arms, staring at the little statue, “Like the unpresented forged notebook page. It’s just a novelty clock with blood on the bottom of it - maybe not even blood, or at least not the real victim’s.”

“But it’s about more than that,” Phoenix himself said, staring at the clock, “There’s two things that this statue represents. For one, it means it’s likely that the other me used forged evidence to win cases before this. In fact, considering his win record up until that trial, I’d almost say it’s inevitable. For another, it means that he was ready to win by the same means on that case as well.” 

“What stopped him, though?” Mia wondered out loud. 

“I suppose it brings us back to the question that started this whole affair, ja? ” Klavier smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes, “What does an unpresented forged piece of evidence mean?” 

“It’s not as if there was much different about that trial,” Miles said, looking away, “Just another case for the Turnabout Terror. Perhaps he just realized that I would have that evidence as thoroughly examined as possible, or he made it during the first day of the trial, but when it was revealed I knew the sculptor personally, he realized he wouldn’t be able to get away with it.” 

“I… I can’t believe, after all this time, he was forging evidence.” Klavier looked like he was in pain.

“I don’t think he was. Or at least, I don’t think he still was,” Mia spoke up, “I can assure you, after the Skye case, I kept a close eye on his cases, trying to find a way to trip him up. I never did. The thing is that he lost cases, some big cases, even.”

“... yes, you’re right. I’m overthinking this. Herr Faux wouldn’t have done that,” Klavier shook his head, “But, well, it does make sense, that he’d done it in the past. He was so familiar with the process of forging evidence, and then admitting it as real evidence. He was so sure he knew exactly how to start going about catching Von Karma, when the time came.”

“So I should’ve looked into his past then. Hindsight, as they say.” Mia said, eyes far-off. 

Phoenix reached forward and took the statue out of the plastic bag, turning it over, and trying to put himself into the other man’s place. Years of forging evidence, and then giving it up all at once. Clearly, he must’ve been fast at forgery - the turnaround for the Mia (or in this case, Mia and Gregory) case had been only a day. If it were like Miles said, what would’ve kept the Prosecutor from just forging a different piece of evidence?

The answer, of course, was simple, was right there. 

“It wasn’t just any case,” Phoenix said, setting the clock back down again, “It was your case.”

“Mine?” Mia asked. Phoenix shook his head and pointed to Miles.

“Yours. The first time you two had met in court, right?” Miles nodded, looking surprised, “Then, I think, it all comes down to you.”

“But- he- after the trial, Wright wouldn’t even look at me! He’d barely talk to me!” Miles practically shouted. It took barely any digging to see how that situation must have been. 

“How could he? After what he’d become, what he’d stooped to doing in court? You were the person who believed in him during that class trial, who stood up for him, and he’d been moments away from destroying your case. Was this meant to convict Maya? Or did it have your own fingerprints on it, all those years ago? It doesn’t matter. I think… to me, I think it’s clear that seeing you in court made him question everything he thought he knew about being a prosecutor. I don’t… I don’t know the man, the ‘Faux’-nix, but I think he kept this around to remind himself of that.” Phoenix dared to say, to suppose. He wasn’t the other Phoenix, and yet at the same time, he supposed he still might be able to know what went on in his head best. 

“You mean… god, he did care?” Miles whispered. 

“I think so.” Phoenix confirmed. 

“You know, I used to think I had a pretty good understanding of Prosecutor Faux-nix, but now I don’t think I knew him at all.” Ray said. 

“And we may never.” Maya sighed. Phoenix shifted uncomfortably at that.

“... I’m going to put this back where it was.” Phoenix stood up and carried the Thinker back to the office. He look his time placing it on the table and then gathering some other material they might need. ‘Might need’, actually, was a generous word for ‘probably completely useless papers’. The possibility of spending the rest of his days in Faux-nix’s shadows was a strong reality. He wondered if his guess was even right. It had certainly given everybody a bit of comfort, it seemed, given himself comfort, even. But was it true? Was it right?

There was nobody to say. 

That was just the way it would be, it seemed. 

“What? Why not?” 

Phoenix caught the tail end of some conversation as he rejoined the group. They were all crowded around Maya’s phone, which still had Miles on the otherside. 

“I still haven’t found out if Vera knows anything, much less would be willing to come back down the mountain and testify to it in front of an entire court full of people. She’s a shy girl.” Miles replied. 

“What’s up?” Phoenix asked. 

“Miles is staying in Hazakura for a couple more days.” Maya explained. 

“I’m usually so good with kids, ” Miles could be heard sighing, “But I also understand that Vera is a bit closed off. I know we’re trying to hurry, but I also don’t want to just force her to talk to me.” Miles said. Phoenix saw him adjust his glasses with the hand not holding the phone, “I should be heading back there, if I want Vera to warm up to me. At least Trucy seems to like me well enough.” 

“Say hi to both of them for me.” Phoenix requested. 

“I will. I’ll call again tomorrow morning.” 

“Right. We’ll be seeing you then, Miles.” Mia waved and Maya ended the call. 

The next of the evening passed well enough. There was a certain awkwardness to the atmosphere, although if that was due to any lingering thoughts about the forged Thinker clock or because, despite everything, the two groups were still trying to get used to each other, was really anybody’s guess. 

“What about this letter? The one that was going to be sent to the PO box?” Mia asked. She, Maya, and Ray were all delving into different cases while Klavier answered questions, and Phoenix tried to the best he could to help. He felt a little useless, now that they were getting into the minutiae like this. 

“A promising lead, but nothing much came of it, I’m afraid. They couldn’t find out who owned the PO box. Or, well, if they did, Kristoph must’ve figured out a way how to get that information tucked away somewhere far and dark.” Klavier said. Mia groaned.

“He really is careful, isn’t he?”

“Well, nobody can be perfect. There’s going to be some kind of decisive evidence somewhere in here.” Phoenix insisted. 

They weren’t able to work too late into the night. They all had day jobs, things they needed to be doing. The Fey’s insisted that they’d be able to turn their attention more towards the case after tomorrow, and Ray apologized, saying he actually got a client earlier in the day, so he’d be preoccupied for the next few days. Still, Phoenix had to admit it was nice to have a team working on this, so that when one person was busy, the others could work and pick up the slack. And again, Klavier and Phoenix were left alone in the house, cleaning up the files to put them somewhere safe.

“You know,” Klavier sighed, arms folded, and staring off into the space in front of him, “I heard, once, that one should be careful about digging up other’s secrets. It always ends up cutting yourself up as well. I mean, this was always about my brother, I knew this was going to come at a great personal and emotional cost. I guess, though, I’m surprised how much it’s come into my relationship with Herr Faux.” 

“He had nobody to blame but himself for that. Not that nobody should have secrets, but if I’ve learned anything - and thus, likely if he’s learned anything - over my years, it’s that working in such close capacity with somebody eventually leads to dirty laundry being aired. You can’t keep secrets during something like this.” Phoenix said. Klavier shrugged.

“Maybe. It just makes me wonder, sometimes, how much I ever really knew about the man. I put a lot of trust into him with all of this, but it seems more and more likely like he held no trust or faith in me.” 

“There’s no way that’s true,” Phoenix denied Klavier’s claim immediately, “I just think, maybe, he didn’t know how to trust people, not with that degree or side of himself.” 

“Speaking from experience?” Klavier asked. Phoenix did his best not to look away at the accusation, “Sorry, that was uncalled for. I guess I’m just frustrated with myself for never asking more question, never looking deeper. Not that I feel betrayed exactly, but just that I feel like I missed my chance to learn more about him now that he’s… now that he’s… oh my god .” Klavier gave a shocked sob and put a hand over his mouth. The papers he’d had in his arms fell to the floor.

“Klavier?!” Phoenix ran over to him as Klavier fell to the floor, sobbing and crying. Klavier clutched onto Phoenix. 

“H-he’s dead! God, he’s, he’s dead, isn’t he? In the ways that matter, Herr Vogel is, he’s… mein Gott!”

Phoenix didn’t know what to say, what to do that would make this better. He definitely couldn’t deny Klavier’s claim. And Phoenix was also familiar with the way that sometimes grief and the reality of a death doesn’t hit you until well well well after the actual event itself. Phoenix also knewexactly how to hold somebody while they cry, and how to rub their back, and how to be patient and wait, and so he did just that.

Chapter Text

Phoenix showed mercy and didn’t mention Klavier’s breakdown in the morning. Instead, in the spare time between being awake and going to the office, he pulled out his phone and started planning what they should get for renovating a room to be Klavier’s. The subject certainly made Klavier, who that early always looked seconds away from either dying or falling back asleep, crack a smile. He promised he was going to pick the absolute most atrocious shade of purple for everything. 

They continued talking about all throughout the ride to the prosecutor’s office, and it put Phoenix into a good mood that really could only be ruined by one Manfred von Karma waiting for Phoenix in his own office. 

Phoenix froze in the doorway when he saw the man. The man was standing with his back straight, one hand behind his back and the other on his cane, and glaring right at PHoenix. There was the familiar jolt of fear that ran down Phoenix’s spine like every time he’d ever seen the man, and he found his own posture straightening up in response. 

“I’m disappointed.” Von Karma’s gravelly voice said. He didn’t need to say it loudly, but it felt like it pierced Phoenix to the bones. 

“I-”

“Sit down.” Von Karma ordered. Phoenix closed his eyes briefly, muttering every curse word in any language he was aware of in his head, and did as he was told, setting his briefcase on his desk and sitting down. Now Von Karma had the advantage of height over him, and he repeated, “I’m very disappointed in you, Wright.”

“She was innocent.” Phoenix said through gritted teeth, trying to find a middle ground between snapping angrily and not sounding too beaten down by the man. He hated this deep fear that seemed inherent with this world whenever he encountered this man, equally as irrational as it was unshakable. 

“Bah, innocence, guilt, simply a verdict from the judge. People lie to save their own skill, your only job as a lawyer is to win you trial through whatever means possible. Or perhaps you’re not fit to be a prosecutor anymore.” Von Karma threatened. 

“I’m one of the best prosecutor’s in this office, you wouldn’t dare !” Phoenix almost growled, narrowing his eyes. Sure he wasn’t Faux-nix, but if enough carried from one world to another, then his claim was completely accurate. Von Karma snapped in his direction, a cruel smirk on his face. 

“ There you are, my ruthless Turnabout Terror. You have never been able to achieve perfection, but you once made up for it. Where is that in the courts? Where is that against the boy who’s responsible for your mother’s death?” Von Karma demanded.

And something fell into place. 

Von Karma, and Phoenix’s mother’s death, and the fact that even now he was standing here in the prosecutor’s office with the pin on his lapel, and Von Karma so so concerned about Phoenix’s losses, losses that had been against the Edgeworth & Fey Law Offices attorneys. 

Phoenix stood slowly.

“Chief Prosecutor,” Phoenix kept his voice level, putting his hands behind his back and meeting the man’s eyes, “I’m an adult man who knows what he’s doing. I have never for a moment forgotten who is responsible for the death of my mother, and when the time comes, I’m going to make sure the man and his entire legacy is completely and utterly destroyed.” Phoenix promised. 

“See to it you do,” Von Karma practically spat, but there was a sinister grin on his face, “Win your next trial, Wright, you’re on probation.”

Getting the last word, Von Karma left the office. Phoenix stayed standing until the door shut and then sagged back down into his chair, a terrible and completely pointless tremble running through his body, a body that knew fear of the man much more keenly than Phoenix himself. 

How much had the other him known? If he had known it was Von Karma, why had it taken him so long to do anything about the man? Questions ran around and around Phoenix’s head with no clear answer, and he came to a decision. Things were coming to a head, that much was clear. He’d been building and fixing bridges for the past few days, and there was one other bridge that, in the light of everything, he knew he had to maintain. 

Phoenix pulled out his phone. 

“Hm, Wright, if you’re calling to give me bad news, perhaps you should rethink your words.” Franziska said. Phoenix let out a calming breath.

“Franziska, I need to talk to you. I haven’t been honest with you, and I think I should be.” He said. There was silence on the other end of the line, then,

“Kleiner Brüder, what is this about.”

“I don’t want to leave you behind, and I want you on my team.” 

“Speak plainly, you fool.” 

“I… I think these things are things that I should tell you in person. Things I probably should’ve told you a while ago, in all honesty.” Phoenix said. More silence. 

“You have always been unconventional and odd by Von Karma standards. If it were any other fool I wouldn’t stand for such foolishness. I will book a flight tonight.” Franziska said. The desire to quickly try and brush off the kindness, to say ‘Oh, you don’t have to come so soon, it’s not too important,’ was strong, but Phoenix stole himself. 

“I’ll seen you soon, then.”

“Yes, you will. Of course, for such a sudden request, I will be taking up my room at your house. I expect it to be perfectly put together by the time I arrive.”

“Naturally.” 

“I will be seeing you, Phoenix, and you will be telling me what all this is about.” 

She hung up on him after that. He had stopped shaking by now and he stared at his phone, Yes, Faux-nix should’ve told Franziska about his plans much earlier. Then again, Phoenix should’ve told Franziska about the extent of his ‘memory problem’ when she was visiting last week and saved her a whole extra drip across the ocean. They were both at fault here, and he was going to fix that. This was… this was home, forever or for the time being, the details didn’t matter. Franziska was his sister now, and that meant he should be looking after her, and that was exactly what he was going to do. 

The day didn’t stop there, of course. Phoenix met up with Gumshoe about an hour to go to the new crime scene, taking his case notes and grilling Gumshoe for further details durings the ride. He considered, during the drive, also ‘recruiting’ Gumshoe for the Kristoph case. It was a hard choice, now that he’d opened himself up to the fact that working with people was actually a great idea, to turn down Gumshoe. The man had proved, time and again, he was willing to do whatever it took for a cause he cared about, even putting his job on the line if need be. But, even with that all considered, Gumshoe was still a detective, and with how unclear Kristoph’s reach was besides ‘definitely some police’, Phoenix decided that he’d hold off on that. Perhaps once he got to the whole Von Karma stuff. 

Still, as the car came to a stop at the, he found himself pausing before climbing out. 

“Something wrong, Mr. Wright?” Gumshoe asked. 

“Just Phoenix,” He said immediately, and then, “Gumshoe, thanks for you willingness to help me.”

“Of course, sir! I’m just glad I’m able to help you at all! I know it hasn’t been easy for you, but you’ve stood up for me before and all, the least I can do is be there for you, yeah?” Gumshoe grinned. 

“Yeah,” Phoenix said. Yes, he’d have to tell Gumshoe some day, that much was clear. But at least this trust here seemed earnest and real, and something left over from Faux-nix that meant the man wasn’t a bad person, forgeries or no, “Well, let’s get investigating.” 

He hadn’t made it five feet from the car when he heard,

“Ah! Just the man I was wanting to see! Baaaaby, get over here!”

Inspector Cabanela was standing outside of the apartment building that held the murder scene. He was leaning against the wall, but had a hand out like he was inviting Phoenix to dance. 

“Inspector Cabanela sir! I didn’t know you were assigned to this case.” Gumshoe said as the two of them went over to Cabanela. 

“Unfortunately not, I’m just stopping by the area and thought, well, may as well check up on my favorite prosecutor,” Cabanela shrugged, “Mind if I steal him for a bit here before you get to all work and no play?” 

“Well,” Gumshoe scratched the back of his head, clearly unsure.

“Go on ahead, Gumshoe. Here, start with these.” Phoenix handed Gumshoe his notes. GUmshoe nodded. 

“Alright.”

“So,” Phoenix put his hands into his pockets, “What was it you wanted to talk about?”

“See Baby, this is what I meeeeean! Right to the point, no pleasantries, none at all?” Cabanela sighed dramatically. Phoenix rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. 

“Sorry, been a bit of a week, as I’m sure you’re aware.”

“Naturally, naturally, and I suppose I see your point. Right to the heart of the matter then; I wanted you to hear this from me, personally: your case is being closed.” Cabanela’s posture didn’t change at all, but something almost imperceptible shifted in his voice to make it clear that he was more serious now. 

“My current case?” Phoenix’s brow furrowed and Cabanela gave a bark of laughter.

“No, of course not! I mean your case. Already forgot about almost drowning, have you?” Cabanela teased. Phoenix groaned and ran a hand down his face.

“No… well, yeah, maybe a bit. In my defense, I’ve had other things on my mind.” Phoenix grunted and Cabanela laughed again.

“Hey hey, I’m not judging you for that. Still, baby, like I said, I wanted you to get this straaaaight from the horse’s mouth,” Cabanela said. He crossed his arms and was now looking across the road with a hundred-yard stare, “They haven’t even had the guts to tell me on an official-basis, just handed me a new case and told me I’ll be working on that for my last week here.”

“Already leaving? Didn’t you just come over, what, two weeks ago?” Phoenix tried to recall. Cabanela nodded. 

“I think my team and I mentioned that we were here more for the judicial conference than anything. Still, some things have caught our eyes, might just see if we can’t shoot for the loooooong term on this assignment. Which, unfortunately, isn’t going to have anything to do with your case, far as I can tell.” Cabanela said. 

Phoenix jumped as the world became pure darkness, bar Cabanela, and chains sprang into existence, five bright and shiny red psyche-locks taking up residence. They faded in a moment, and Phoenix could see Cabanela looking at him out of the corner of his eye.

“I don’t suppose you’ve seen anything weird here since you came back from the dead?”

“Trust me, Inspector, if I remembered or saw anything strange I would’ve told you.” Phoenix lied. Cabanela kept his stare for a moment and then shrugged and sighed. It was unclear if he’d bought Phoenix’s words or not. 

“Well, anyway, like I said, I’ve got a new case I should be giving my all. I’d hate to leave something unfinished if my team and I do end up leaving in a week,” Cabanela pushed off of the wall, “You still have my number?” 

“Yeah.” Phoenix nodded. The little card was sitting in the drawer of the side table next to his bed. 

“Good. I’ll be seeing you around then.” 

And with that, Cabanela strutted off. 

Phoenix watched him go for a minute, tilting his head back and forth as he considered the psychelock’s he’d seen, so effortlessly and casually placed over the man. A man skilled with keeping secrets, that much was sure, and one that seemed to have to do somewhat with Phoenix, or at least with that night at the lake. There wasn’t much Phoenix could do about that though, not right now, and it was carefully placed into the ever-growing pile of ‘things Phoenix needed to do once the current shit-show was over’. The brief consideration of how many things Faux-nix must’ve piled there passed through Phoenix’s mind, and then was also placed into the pile, because figuring out any lost or forgotten promises of the other him would also have to wait. 

He had a crime scene to look at. 

oOo

The crime scene was bloody, but overall not that interesting. He breathed a sigh of relief at how clean-cut this looked. He might just be able to not lose his job thanks to Von Karma being the worst bastard on the face of the Earth. Alright, maybe not the worst per se, but definitely the one that Phoenix currently wanted to strangle with his own two hands. 

Gumshoe dropped Phoenix back off at the Prosecutor’s office, and then Phoenix met up with Klavier. He spent the rest of the work day ruining his back like he had the day before, going over the new notes and evidence gathered. It was just as both Phoenix and Klavier were gathering their things to leave that the door burst open to Ray, grinning, one hand on his head keeping the hat there. 

“Evening.” Klavier greeted, though the surprise had hade him drop the paper’s he’d been gathering, forcing him to start again. 

“Evening, yes, an evening that we’re going out!” Ray declared. 

“Going out where?” Phoenix asked, standing up and cracking his back. 

“To listen in on Mia and Maya’s big conference, of course! Well, big being relative, of course, but definitely their biggest one yet. They did get the master-in-training of the Kurain Channeling Technique to come down for this.”

“Who’s that?” Phoenix asked eagerly.

“Right, you probably ‘know’ her, huh? Little Pearl Fey, of course! Really, the only Fey’s who’d kept an interest in it, and both Mia and Maya insist she’s an absolute prodigy of channeling, not that I have any sense of the whole thing.” Ray admitted. 

“Pearls? Well, I guess I shouldn’t be so surprised.” Phoenix said. He had to admit he’d wondered after her wellbeing a time or two. It’d be nice to see her and confirm it himself. 

“I’ll admit, I was actually hoping to see this one.” Klavier said. 

“Then let’s not waste another second, the conference will have already started by the time we get there!”

Ray led the way, a bit of extra time having to be spent as Klavier didn’t want to leave his car at the office. The conference wasn’t very far and it didn’t take them long to get there. They all practically ran through the halls - in the most professional way possible for the lawyers they were, around others of even higher standing than themselves - to get there, and Phoenix grinned at the idea of seeing Pearl, all grown up, taking up the mantle soon of Master. That, well, that had mixed feelings connected to it, but if it was she wanted, then it was what Phoenix wanted for her. 

Ray cracked the door of the conference room open just enough to slip through. Klavier followed after him. Just before Phoenix could do so as well, he phone rang and he cursed under his breath. 

“I’ll be there in a second.” He told Klavier. The number that came up on his phone was unknown, but he hesitated to just ignore it on principle. He wasn’t sure if all the numbers that Prosecutor Phoenix had had on his water-logged phone had correctly carried over. With reluctance, but also eager to this over with, he answered the phone.

“-easeohpleaseohholymotherlethimanswer-”

He was immediately assaulted by a desperate rambling in a very familiar voice. 

“I-iris? Iris is that you?” Phoenix asked.

“Oh thank the holy mother! Maya and Mia and Diego aren’t answering their phones, and I need to get back to the temple, but I had to call an ambulance and police, and by the Holy Mother why aren’t they answering their phones-”

“Iris, what’s going on?” Phoenix felt a chill creeping up his spine. 

“Phoenix,” Iris said, slowly and deliberately with a sudden forced calm, “Miles was on his way to take Vera and Trucy to his car when he got shot. He’s been shot twice. I've called an ambulance. I need you to find Maya and Mia and tell them.”

“Miles- he-!”

“I need to get back to the temple, I’m in danger out here myself. Please, Phoenix, I need you to tell them for me.”

Iris hang up.

Chapter Text

Phoenix fell to the floor as his brain tried to comprehend what he'd just been told. 

Miles. 

Miles had been.

There was. 

No.

He couldn’t have. 

There was numbness and disbelief at first. Shit was supposed to happen to Phoenix. It was Phoenix who got punched in the face, who ate glass and poison, who ran over burning bridges, who got disbarred and hit by cars and had had to drag himself out of a fucking lake and into a world where nothing was right. Bad things were supposed to happen to Phoenix. 

Miles. 

At first, Phoenix felt like he couldn’t breathe, struggling for air. Then, he regained some sense. He stood back up, pocketing his phone, and turned to the conference room doors. He straightened his back and smoothed the wrinkles out of his coat and then walked into the room. There was some kind of emotion, some kind of Feeling, that was rising up and growing within his chest, something more powerful than the confusing jumble that Iris’ news had given him. 

Only a few people looked over at him as he entered. The room was bigger than the other conference room that he’d listened to the Feys in. The turnout was just about perfect, nearly every seat taken. He recognized Cabanela and the rest of his team among the mass of people, and near the front was Ray and Klavier. Reserved seats, Phoenix could see as he drew closer. Seats saved just for them. It would’ve brought a smile to his face if it wasn’t for everything else. 

He was reluctant to look at the stage, but he finally managed to drag his eyes over to it. There, he could see Mia was talking, going over similar points to what she’d been saying before, but more in depth this time as well as citing specific other studies or cases or trials. There were three seats on the stage, Mia’s own empty one, one that was Maya - in her own suit - sitting in, and then the third occupied with the In-Training Master of the Kurain Channeling Technique, Pearl Fey. Her hair had the familiar little loops, but down at the bottom of a long braid. She was wearing long and flowing robes that almost threatened to drown her, but the way she sat gave off an almost regal appearance, a valiant fight against looking too young for respect. No, if anything, she almost looked like it fit her just fine. She looked so grown up that for a moment Phoenix was taken aback, blinking a surprising onslaught of tears from his eyes.

The strange Feeling, however, was stronger than anything else that the sight might’ve made Phoenix feel, as he realized something. The Feys had been working for this for a long time. They weren’t even near the end of this whole struggle yet - there was more to be done. They needed this to go well. 

Miles was shot and bleeding at Hazakura Temple, but that was hours away. An ambulance would be there before them. Phoenix would tell them, like he’d promised Iris he would… but not yet, not in the middle of this. 

Phoenix stood off to the side for a moment, as if frozen by his own decision. Then with reluctance, he made his way to sit next to Klavier. His phone never felt heavier in his pocket. 

“Anything important?” Klavier asked.

“Did I miss much?” Phoenix asked instead. Klavier took the implicit answer of ‘of course not’, saving Phoenix from having to say the lie with his own mouth. 

“Not yet.” 

It was agonizing. Sitting there, listening to the Feys talk. Pearls stepped forward at one point. No demonstration, she said. The Kurain Channeling Technique was too precious to present in court like that. However, she did go over the details of the channeling itself. That one cannot fake it - the appearance of the one channeling a spirit changes, there can be no mistake. That few can channel to that degree, and fewer still for long periods of time. There was a lot said about the minute details, details that Phoenix hadn't heard himself before. 

Almost none of it registered for Phoenix. 

Miles had flown from Germany to Hazakura when Phoenix had fallen from the burning bridge. Miles had thought him dead, and had still gone to great lengths to get there as soon as possible. Here Phoenix was, just sitting in a room. But no, there was nothing to be done, he convinced himself. This was the smart decision - he had to be here for them, for Miles' family. He thought that perhaps even Miles would’ve wanted the Feys to finish their presentation. 

The time turned to open the floor for questions. Now, Phoenix wondered, was now the time to tell them? He remained in his chair as a queue formed, made of mostly people he didn’t know. There was Lynne, one of Cabanela’s fellow detectives, standing patiently. Klavier got up as well. Apollo Justice was among them, unmistakable in his red suit. 

Phoenix finally stood up. 

“In Khura’in, the implementation of a form of spirit channeling is what many has said has led to the current radicalized state of its judicial system. How do you know that the same won’t happen here?” Apollo asked. 

“To put it plainly, it’s currently the least of our worries,” Mia responded, “Khura’in already had a faith and trust in the spirit channeling techniques, while here such a backbone doesn’t exist. We first have the hurdle to leap of spirit channeling being permissible evidence in court. However, I do understand your worry. As someone who’s been a practicing defense lawyer there for some time now, I can assure you I’m definitely aware of the possibility of channeling overruling all other evidence. We have a plan to restrict that. The problem in Khura’in is that they'll offten accept one piece of evidence as final - they treat their channeling as if it amounts to a confession from the defendant. However, as is pointed out by Foucault , a confession should not be tantamount to finalizing evidence - further proof must be found and presented as well.” Apollo nodded and stepped away from the microphone. 

Right to where Phoenix was waiting for him. 

“O-oh! Mr. Wright!” Apollo said in a hushed whisper. 

“Could I speak with you for a moment?” Phoenix requested. Apollo looked back to the stage. 

“Can this wait until afterwards?” Apollo asked. 

“There’s things I have to do after this ends. Please, Apollo.” Phoenix almost begged. He could feel Mia looking at him, even as the next person had stepped up to the mic to ask their own question. 

“Uh, y-yeah, alright.”

Phoenix exited out of the conference room with Apollo trailing after him. Apollo looked nervous, but also a little annoyed and more than a tad bit curious. 

Was there something he should say? A ‘sorry, I’m going to just use you again’? A, ‘I’ll explain later’, or ‘this will make sense soon, I promise’? None of it sounded right, not even in Phoenix’s own head. What was there to be done then to get this over with? 

Phoenix wrapped his hand around his magatama, feeling it's almost-pulsing warmth under his fingertips. Apollo watched the action with a furrowed brow, the annoyance and nervousness both fading into just curiosity. 

“Apollo,” Phoenix said, clear as day, “Do you know anything about what Kristoph Gavin has been up to?” 

A rush of energy, almost like touching a live wire, ran through Phoenix from the magatama as the world became darkness. Two red psyche-locks snapped into place. 

“I told you before, I don’t.” Apollo reaffirmed, folding his arms. 

“There must be some reason that you’re protecting him. You don’t even know what I think he’s been doing, but you’re so ready to keep what you know locked up tight.” Phoenix said, more to himself than to Apollo.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Do I look like I’m lying, Apollo, when I say I know for a fact you’re keeping a secret?” Phoenix practically demanded. Apollo looked over Phoenix, brow drawing only closer together as he said,

“No. You don’t.”

“Exactly. Now, it stands to reason you must not know everything. You wouldn’t defend Kristoph if you did. There must be a reason that you’re defending him, that you'd be so willing to stand by him. I’d say that it was just simply because he’s your boss, but that’s a flimsy defense. Not somebody like you. You’re a good lawyer, you understand what it means to find the truth - or you at least have a basic understanding of the concept. Is there perhaps… something he’s holding over you? Something you owe him?” Phoenix monologued his thoughts out loud, carefully watching Apollo. He knew he was treading a thin and dangerous line here; he’d jumped into this with only half an idea of what he might be able to use to break the psyche-locks, putting his own soul on the line. He’d had yet to do irreparable damage to himself when attempting to break psyche-locks, but Maya and Pearl’s warnings from all those years ago still stuck to him. 

It paid off, as in response to Phoenix’s musings, Apollo’s hand twitched, almost reaching up to grab his own magatama. Phoenix’s eyes narrowed.

“Of course, it’s your magatama! You owe him for that!”

“What-? I told you, I got this from an old friend of mine.” Apollo said. He looked caught in an awkward place between not wanting to look Phoenix’s in the eyes as well as not wanting to take his eyes off of Phoenix. 

“From a friend in Khura’in. If I recall, you said that you were there last summer doing research and the like. A bit of a lengthy trip, wouldn’t you say? Gavin helped fund it, didn’t he? So not only are you protecting him because he’s your boss, you’re in his debt for him allowing and helping you go to Khura’in.” Phoenix guessed. He had to admit, it was a bit of a shot in the dark, but his daring was rewarded when one of the psyche-locks shook and then broke apart. Apollo flinched and looked around, but nodded.

“... we’re both very interested in any possible change to our judicial system. Mr. Gavin was needed here to defend clients, but I wouldn’t be able to work as a defense attorney in Khura’in. It was part of the terms I agreed to when Mr. Gavin offered to fund the work trip for me. I got a lot of good research and experience from it, but it wouldn’t have been possible without him.” Apollo admitted, the words spilling out now that one of the lock keeping them back was gone. 

“Makes sense. But, that still doesn’t tell me what the secret itself is.” For far from the first nor last time, the idea that this had nothing whatsoever to do with the Gramarye case nudged at the edge of Phoenix’s mind. But in the end, did it matter? Who cared if this had to do with any of the murders, or with forging evidence, or with some murder that Phoenix didn’t know about. What mattered was finally getting the proof needed to put the man somewhere where he was going to hurt anybody again, where he wasn’t going to shoot Trucy, or Mia, or Maya, or Vera, or anybody. 

“What… what are you doing?” Apollo asked, only a hint of fear in his voice. Phoenix ignored the question. God, he had no clue what to use against that second lock. He didn’t have any idea. He tried to replay their conversation from before, back at Gavin's office and all that Phoenix really had to work with. 

“It has to do with… my arm, doesn’t it, the car that hit me!” Phoenix declared. He could already feel the recoil coming on, like it was winding up, as Apollo shook his head,

“No... you think Kristoph was the one who hit you?”

Phoenix didn’t reply, too busy with the pain that ran through him, like all of his nerves were on fire, but just for a fraction of a second. Still, it robbed him of his breath, and the split second reaction was all somebody with Apollo’s abilities needed to realize something had happened. Apollo narrowed his eyes. 

“That-”

“Or about the Gramarye trial, do you know about that and Kristoph?” Phoenix went right for another desperate attempt. 

“The Gramarye trial? I don’t-” 

Another jolt of pain, stronger this time, and Phoenix actually had to take a second to catch his breath. Apollo jumped at the chance.

“Mr. Wright, what is going on?”Apollo demanded.

“I just need to know.” Phoenix said, already trying to think of another guess. So little evidence, just desperation to end this as soon as possible. Apollo looked at Phoenix, his hand resting on his bracelet.

“... it was a letter.” Apollo said.

The last psyche-lock shattered, and the world returned to life around them. Phoenix breathed a sigh of relief. 

“A letter.” Phoenix repeated. Apollo nodded. He seemed to hesitate for another moment, but with the psyche-locks gone, the words just sort of fell out.

“A letter, addressed to a house at Gourd Lake. It was in a pile of other mail that Mr. Gavin had picked up for the day. I noticed him shredding it a couple hours later.” Apollo said. 

Foreboding swept through Phoenix, but he wasn’t done just yet, and considering Apollo hadn’t left yet, he must’ve noticed that as well. 

“That doesn’t mean a lot on it’s own.” Phoenix pointed out. 

“I asked Mr. Gavin if he had a house by Gourd Lake. To try and make conversation. He said no. He was lying.” Apollo said. He was holding onto his own arms, like bracing himself against what was being said. 

“You’re a smart kid,” Phoenix said, “You knew there was something more to that.”

“No I didn’t.” Apollo insisted. A lie to himself. 

“You wouldn’t have kept that behind two psyche-locks if you thought it was nothing.” Phoenix said. He ran a hand through his hair. He should probably get back inside. He knew… he knew something now, something new. It was something productive, progress, forward movement. It didn’t feel like enough. Miles could be dying, or already dead, and all Phoenix had managed to do was find out some detail about a letter. 

“What did you do?” Apollo asked again. 

“It’s… a Kurain thing.” Phoenix said. He turned to go back into the conference room, but Apollo grabbed his shoulder, stopping him, fingers digging forcefully into Phoenix's arm. 

“Why are you so insistent that Mr. Gavin has done something to you?” Apollo demanded. 

He was caught between wanting to tell Apollo - wanting to give him the trust and honestly he’d denied Apollo before. But Miles has just been shot, and Apollo still works for Gavin, and Phoenix is tired. He’d made such good progress with trust recently, but he’s only human. 

“... As long as you’re working for him, I can’t tell you,” Phoenix said, “I’m sorry.” 

Apollo said nothing, just stared at Phoenix for a minute. His hand kept touching his bracelet, although what he could possibly be getting from it right now, Phoenix had no idea. Then, without another word, Apollo turned around and left. Phoenix put his hand on the door to the conference room, but he found he no longer wanted to be in there, and instead leaned against the wall outside of it. 

He still had to tell them about Miles. 

Was that all this was? Was he just desperately stalling for time?

Phoenix sighed. He wasn’t much of one for praying, but he rested his fingers on his magatama and hoped, hoped with everything he had in him, that Miles was going to be okay. 

The conference let out not too much later. First, the hoard of people spilled out, and Phoenix waited patiently. Then, when they were all gone, Phoenix entered the now mostly-empty room. Pearls, Maya, and Mia were still up on the stage, but they were now joined by Ray, Klavier, and Diego. Klavier spotted Phoenix right away and raised a hand in greeting.

“ Ach , look who finally showed back up!” He called. 

The words Phoenix knew he had to say sat heavy on his tongue. He felt he couldn't say anything else until they were said, but he refused to shout them the length of the room. With agonizing steps, he approached the group. By the time he got there, it seemed that Klavier and Maya at the least had picked up that something was off about him. 

“Nick?” Maya said. 

“Miles was shot.” 

The group silenced.

“Miles was shot.” Phoenix said again, almost afraid he’d said it incorrectly before. 

“What do you mean he was shot?” Mia asked. There was a kind of deadly calm over the group, as if the desire not to believe what they’d been told was so strong that it was actively putting off the inevitable. 

“I got a call from Iris. She said that Miles had been on his way to his car with Vera and Trucy when they were shot at. Miles got shot twice. Iris called an ambulance, and then tried to call you, Maya, or Diego. When you didn’t pick up, she tried me.” Phoenix said. As he said that, the group erupted into noise. Not chaos exactly, but the noise of people who had suffered disasters before, knew how to weather another one, but weren’t exactly looking forward to it. 

Phoenix on his part, now that he’d gotten the words out, felt oddly calm. 

“I can’t channel him, so he must not be dead yet. I can sort of sense him, though, so his condition might be bad.” Pearls reported. 

“I’ll head up there to see if there’s any evidence left at the scene for who did this.” Diego offered. Diego who didn't know this had to be related to the whole Gavin thing.

“I’ll drive you.” Ray said, adjusting his hat. 

“Maya and I will try and find out which hospital he’s at, if the ambulance has already arrived. Phoenix, how long ago did you get the call?” Mia asked.

“... near the beginning of the presentation.” Phoenix admitted. Both Klavier and Ray seemed to realize it at the same time.

“That phone call you got before coming in…!” Ray said and Phoenix nodded. Ray surged forward, grabbing the front of Phoenix’s shirt and giving him a shake, “You knew this whole time that Miles’ life was in danger and you didn’t say anything?! He could’ve died and you didn’t say anything?!” 

“What good would it have done? He was already shot!” Phoenix defended. 

“I can’t have an Edgeworth die on me again!” Ray shouted as if he hadn’t heard Phoenix at all. 

“You think I want him to die? I love him! But he’s hours away and there’s nothing we could’ve fucking done! Do you think he would’ve wanted to ruin everything Mia and Maya have been working on?!” Phoenix shouted right back. Ray froze and then slowly loosened his hands from Phoenix's shirt. 

“... let’s get going.” Diego said, putting a hand on Ray’s arm. Ray nodded, and then he, Diego, and Lotus left the room. 

Phoenix could see that at some point Pearls had stepped right between Mia and Maya, holding their hands. Klavier was at his own side, not holding his hand, but their shoulders were nearly touching. It was a grim reminder, then, that for all the effort the past few days, they were still two seperate groups with a common goal. 

“Thank you for telling us,” Mia said, with a forced kind of calm Pheonix couldn’t blame her for, “We need to be on our way, though.”

“Of course,” He nodded, “Please, when you get there… tell me how he’s doing.” Phoenix asked. 

“I will.” Mia gave him a solid nod, and Maya nodded too. She had that sad look on her face, like the one she’d worn that entire first day he’d known her, after Mia had been killed. He always hated seeing her so sad like that. 

Klavier and Phoenix were left in the conference room alone now. 

Phoenix let out a long breath. His eyes felt warm, and yet tears didn’t come. He still wasn’t sure what he was feeling. Maybe he was broken, maybe he had spent so much time playing poker in that dark little room, closing off his emotions, that he’d lost connection to his emotions, unable to feel them correctly anymore. 

“We should head home.” Klavier said, voice so quiet in the big room. 

Phoenix nodded, the action jerky, and then Klaiver led him out to the car. 

The ride was a blur, as was the entirety of dinner. Leftovers. The only thing that stuck out was a call from Mia informing them that while in critical condition, Miles was indeed alive. He’d gotten shot in the stomach and in the shoulder and had lost a lot of blood. Phoenix took the news grimly, thanked her for the update, and then continued to eat his food. It tasted bland. 

“ Herr Vogel, ” Klavier said at one point, “Are you alright?” Phoenix had no idea what Klavier was feeling. Looking at the man gave him nothing to work with. Worry, probably? But he felt so numb that even reading people, something he’d been doing for seven years as a job, seemed impossible. 

Phoenix had shrugged wordlessly. Klavier had cleaned up the dinner and then, softly said,

“Maybe you should get some sleep.”

“We both should.” Phoenix replied, but did indeed go up to his room. He laid down on the bed, staring up at his ceiling. Worries about Miles came in and out of his stream of consciousness. No matter how much he closed his eyes, he couldn't stop thinking about his conversation with Apollo. 

Gourd Lake.

It had to come back to that, didn’t it? 

He wasn’t going to get any rest tonight, that was for sure, and he couldn't stand feeling so restless and still in his house. Not his fucking house. The house of a fucking stranger. He looked into the living room, and it looked like Klavier had fallen asleep already. Good. Phoenix didn't want to get anybody else hurt if he could help it. He grabbed a pair of gloves, putting them on, and then got some plastic bags from the kitchen. He doubted he’d find anything, but on the off chance, it wouldn’t hurt. 

It was lucky that the buses ran so late into the night. 

There were a couple of other people on it, but all completely fine with keeping to themselves. 

As the bus stopped at the entrance to Gourd Lake and Phoenix stood on the sidewalk, he felt something finally resolving in his chest. It was not unlike the feeling he’d get near the end of a trial, when things were finally falling into place. Something sure and strong. Something like a great beast stirring, awakening in his chest. He flexed his hand, unable to get rid of the phantom feeling of holding onto something. 

Phoenix looked at the smooth glass of the lake. 

He’d clawed his way out of there, coughing up lungs filled with water. His fingers were mostly healed by now from where they’d been torn up. The cold was no longer settled in his bones. He took a step towards the lake. 

Phoenix dragged his eyes away from it with no small amount of strength. 

He walked some length of the shore, unsure what he was looking for. He kept enough distance so that the waves never hit his shoes, and he kept glancing to the great body of water. 

Like a phantom of the past, in his way he came upon the old boathouse. It looked even worse than the last time Phoenix had seen it. He supposed it never had the fifteen-years of upkeep that Yanni Yogi had provided it. Or perhaps if somebody else had moved in, they’d stayed for a shorter time, or didn’t take as good care of it, or something or other. More evidence, one of a hundred, a thousand, a million differences. 

It’s a whim that made him open the door. It was unlocked and dark inside. 

He entered, not sure what he expected to find. 

There’s a small click, a familiar sound, and Phoenix closed his eyes, muttering a curse under his breath. The small click, like a hammer being pulled back on a gun.

“How relieving that my patience has paid off.” 

Phoenix raised his one good arm up in surrender as there’s another click, this time from a lighter, and a lamp was lit. Sitting on an old and musty armchair was Kirstoph Gavin, glasses shining from the flickering light and making it impossible to see the man’s eyes. The light also glinted off the handgun that was indeed in his hand. 

“Gavin.” Phoenix said. No emotion showed through in his voice. 

“Wright. Why don’t you take a seat.” Kristoph gestured with the gun to a cheap plastic chair and, with reluctance, Phoenix did as he was told. Kristoph’s face had a soft smile on it the entire time. Phoenix had read reviews about the man before. They almost never failed to point out what a nice and pleasant smile the lawyer had. Such a trustworthy smile. 

“Thank you for the flowers.” Phoenix slowly settled his hand down and Kristoph didn’t stop him. 

“A funny little joke, or perhaps a little warning. Is that little cat of yours still alive?” Kristoph asked and Phoenix didn’t reply. With the hand not holding the gun, Kristoph adjusted his glasses, shaking his head, “You’re going to die tonight anyway, no need to be so stubborn.” 

“You sound very sure of yourself.” Phoenix noted. 

“You’ve been a thorn in my side long enough. It’s been long since I should’ve taken care of you. Of course, not for lack of trying. However, my own curiosity holds me back for now. Tell me, Wright, where were you during those missing five days.”

“As if you don’t know.” Phoenix spat back. Kristoph chuckled.

“Hm, perhaps the rumor was true, then. You must be able to imagine the surprise I felt when I heard news you had lived. I waited for what your next move would be. The rumor you hadn’t agreed to give testimony at your own trial, but then you appeared in court, only to still refuse to give testimony, just making sure the verdict of guilty didn't fall on the wrong person… I had wondered what you were up to, and then of course I heard the theory you had memory loss. So perhaps you won’t have the answers I want. A pity. I’m sure you’re equally as familiar with the disappointment of a case being closed without the resolution you were looking for.” Kristoph sighed. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Phoenix said, and yet he thought he did. 

“Of course not, if you truly don’t remember. Has your partner not contacted you within the past couple weeks?” Kristoph continued to try and get information out of Phoenix he just didn’t have. 

“No.” Phoenix said, not even daring to think Klavier’s name. Still, it was like Kristoph could read him like a book.

“Other than my brother, of course. No, it’s clear you never really trusted him. I’m meaning who pulled you out of the lake.” Kristoph went on. 

“I pulled myself out of the lake.” Phoenix insisted. 

“You made a good show of it, I’ll give you that. But nobody could hold their breath for that long. How did you do it? And why did you keep that little green gem on you? What did you call it, a 'magatama'?” Kristoph demanded an answer that didn’t exist. 

“I just didn’t die. Simple as that, really.” Phoenix finally answered. 

“I see you’re as infuriating as ever. I’ll relish the fact I won’t have to go up against That in court again.” Kristoph said. 

It happened quickly.

Kirstoph’s finger pulled down on the trigger and at the same time, Phoenix ducked his head, trying to cover himself with his broken arm as much as possible. His effort was rewarded by the sharp pain he received, going through the cast, and he let out a bark of pain. The cast had done little protect him from the bullet, but at least that arm was already out of commission anyway. He was familiar with pain, he could take it. Phoenix’s sudden action seemed to catch Kristoph off guard for just enough that Phoenix was able to make it to the door. Another shot rang out, this time just missing him and splintering the wood of the door next to him. Phoenix wasted no time in throwing the door open, darting out, and slamming it closed behind him. A third bullet ripped through the wood. Another miss, thank God. 

Instinct and adrenaline demanded Phoenix to run as far away from the building as possible, but some sense remained with him, and instead he waited just to the side of the door.

“Wright-” Kristoph roared as he opened the door. Phoenix punched Gavin’s face, something he’d wanted to do for a very long time now. He couldn't help the grin that broke across his face. The gun fell to the ground as Kristoph reeled and Phoenix kicked it into the weeds. 

Kristoph didn’t stay stunned for long, and Phoenix felt a fist impact the side of his face. Kristoph wasn’t going for a second strike, however. His eyes were looking down at the weeds, at where the gun was, and Phoenix dove down for it just as Kristoph did the same. Phoenix kicked Kristoph in the stomach, and Kirstoph let go of it again. This time, Phoenix threw the weapon into the lake as far as he could. 

And then Kristoph was upon Phoenix again, grabbing his bullet wound on his arm, and Phoenix cried out in pain. 

“You’re so much more work than any of the others have been.” Kristoph hissed. They were near the water now, soaking into Phoenix's clothes, getting into his shoes, drawing his hair down, and Phoenix tried to kick Kristoph again, managing to get his knee. Kristoph this time didn't let go, towering above him, dragging Phoenix further into the water. 

Evidence, Phoenix thought, the only clear thought in his head, he needed to get evidence. His nails scratched into Kristoph’s skin, leaving lines and drawing blood. Yes, Kristoph’s DNA, he needed that, kept under his fingernails like a prize. His other arm was useless, and in pain, and then his head was under the surface of the water with Kirstoph’s hands around his throat. The water all around him, suffocating, oppressive. 

Phoenix thrashed around, trying to break free. Phoenix’s good arm reached out of the water, and he grabbed the defense badge from Kristoph’s lapel, ripping it off. Yes, there, more evidence, that was solid, that was something. The metal of it bit into Phoenix's hand.

The world was growing dark at the edges. 

Phoenix’s lungs burned, and reflexively he tried to breath only for water to fill his lungs. He tried to cough it out, but there was only more water. Only the cold and the wet and the dark. 

He couldn’t make out Kristoph. A bright light lit the back of him, solidly making the man composed only of shadows, a spector, a phantom, a curse. 

The word was growing yet darker, faded, further away. Phoenix tried to stay there. 

No, he desperately thought, I’m not ready yet, I still have so much to do…!

Further out in the lake, he felt something deep and warm and glowing, like a thousand magatamas. Phoenix turned his head towards it. The feeling of Kristoph's hand on his neck wasn't so strong anymore. The great red thread he had been holding in his hand, burning with heat and so heavy, stretched taunt, led to it. 

The world grew quiet, and for the first time in weeks, Phoenix felt like his head was finally clear. 

Was it enough, he wondered, climbing to his feet, did I do enough for you?

Finally, at long last, Phoenix stopped holding his ground, and he followed the red thread away.

Chapter Text

There’s a banging on the front door. 

It woke Klavier up rather rudely, and he sat up slowly, trying to stretch out the knot in his back. Sleeping on the couch was never good for him, made worse from how often he’d done it in the past couple weeks. But what could he do about it? He worried about Herr Vogel, and the silence of his own house was made all the sharper with the introduction and then removal of Wren.

Wren who, much like a dog might, was yowling by the door as the person outside pounded on the poor wood like it was a drum.

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” Klavier shouted, unsure if it would even be heard by the person trying to get into the house. He was glad he’d slept in his clothes. He had a set of pajamas that, at this point, he just kept at Herr Vogel’s house for nights such as this, but the great and sudden exhaustion of the day had set in quickly. Seeing Herr Vogel in such a dejected, nearly emotionless state of what must’ve been shock had felt like it had sapped Klavier’s energy as well. 

This had been what they’d been hoping to prevent. Kristoph’s next move. They’d been too slow, and it felt like failure. But to think that, to believe that, would be to give in, and Klavier had come too far to give in like that now, especially now. 

He reached the door, Wren having run between Klavier to the door and back again, meowing loudly the entire time, until Klavier finally opened the door. 

A vaguely familiar man was on the other side. He was in a red vest with matching slacks, a white undershirt, a dark and long coat, and the all-too-familiar defense attorney badge pinned to his lapel. He sported a prominent forehead, and drooping down were two particular cowlicks of hair. The man looked almost out of breath.

“M-Mr. Gavin!” He exclaimed in surprise.

“Nobody calls me ‘Mr’, I imagine you’ve mistaken me for my brother.” Klavier said, flicking his hair over his shoulder and trying not to think about what a mess it must look like. He’d have to have Herr Vogel braid it in the morning. 

“Sorry, I thought this was Prosecutor Wright’s house!” The man said, almost shouting, and looked about to turn away. 

“No, this is his place. Why?” 

“I-I need to talk to him. Right now.” The man demanded. Klavier was tempted to turn him away, but then maybe Herr Vogel - current or past - knew this defense attorney and would want to meet with ihm.

“Go ahead and come in. I’ll get him, Mr...” Klavier sighed, opening the door and letting the man in. 

“Oh, Justice! Apollo Justice!” The man replied. 

“Alright Herr Justice.” Klavier yawned and rubbed his eyes. They were dry from sleeping in his contacts. He left Justice in the living room and climbed the stairs, knocking on the door to Herr Vogel’s room.

“Ach, Herr Vogel, ” Klavier called out, “There’s a Herr Justice here for you.

No response.

“ Herr Vogel? ” Klavier knocked on the door again. 

Still no answer. 

Slowly, Klavier opened the door, not wanting to invade the man’s privacy. There was no call for him to stop, and soon the door was open enough for Klavier to see that the bed was empty. 

A chill ran down his spine. 

“Shit. Shit shit shit shit scheisse. ” Klavier muttered as he practically ran down the stairs. He’d left his phone down there. God, please let Herr Vogel have taken his phone, please let Herr Vogel answer the phone. 

Surely he wouldn’t have gone to-

Herr Vogel had promised-

Phoenix wouldn’t-

“G-Gavin!” Justice jumped in surprise as Klavier came barrelling into the living room, throwing his things left on the coffee table to the side until he found his phone amidst the pile. 

“He’s not here, you can go.” Klavier said, not in the mood to be nice. He was already dialing, holding the phone to his ear. 

“He’s not here?”

“No, he isn’t,” Klavier snapped, and then muttered, “C’mon, pick up…”

Please leave a message as the tone.

“Shit,” This time, it wasn’t Klavier swearing, but Justice, who raked a hand through his hair, “Fuck.” He then added. 

“... why did you say you were here again?” Klavier asked, slowly lowering his phone. 

“Mr. Wright and I were… talking, earlier today,” Apollo said, “And… I think I said something I shouldn’t have, to, uh, to Mr. Gavin.” 

The phone fell from Klavier’s hand as he grabbed Justice by the shoulders.

“What did you tell mein Bruder?!” He demanded. 

“That I told Mr. Wright about a letter addressed to a house at Gourd Lake.” Justice said. While the entirety of what that meant wasn’t understood, it was a enough to make Klavier realize where Here Vogel had likely gone.

“Dammit,” Klavier hissed, already rooting around for his keys now, “Well, like I said, he’s not here-”

“I can help!” Justice said, grabbing onto Klavier’s arm. 

“I think you’ve helped enough, ja?” Klavier sniffed. 

“I remember the address of the house.” Justice insisted. And, shit, yeah, that might be useful. 

“... fine.” Klavier grit out. 

With reluctance, Klavier let Justice follow him out to the car. He wanted nothing more than to be roaring down the road, on his own, on his hog right now. But he’d left it at his apartment, and he guessed that having Justice tag along might be useful. Justice climbed into the car without saying anything. 

Klavier reminded himself that he had no proof that anything had happened to Herr Vogel yet. Hell, technically he didn’t even have proof that Herr Vogel was at Gourd Lake. But going there and seeing that would make him feel better. It would get rid of this burning worry, so familiar. 

That first day that Herr Vogel had gone missing three weeks ago… what would have changed if he’d looked for him? He hadn’t trusted that Herr Vogel knew what he was doing, if he’d insisted that he help Herr Vogel ? Maybe Klavier couldn’t change the past, but he’d do his damndest to keep it from repeating.

“... what has Mr. Gavin been doing?” 

It was the first thing said in a good ten minutes of driving, asked by Justice. The man was resolutely looking out the window. He hadn’t given any directions yet, which was fine. Klavier knew the way to Gourd lake. 

“You don’t need to worry about that.” Klavier said. He wasn’t exactly in the mood to share with this man who might’ve put his friend in danger. 

“I work for him. I think I should’ve worried about this a long time ago.” Justice said. Oh, yes, that was where Klavier had seen him before. Well, he was fairly sure he now remembered seeing Justice at the meeting earlier, but he’d been to his brother’s office a time or two, and that bright red outfit, yes, he remembered seeing this man there. 

Klavier wanted to stay angry. He desperately wanted to stay furious, to rage at this man for anything that might happen. How dare Justice have put his faith and trust into Kristoph, didn’t he know anything? Didn’t he know about the Gramarye case, and all the deaths caused from it? Didn’t he know that Herr Vogel was all that it felt like Klavier had left? Didn’t this man know anything at all, anything that Klavier had been living with for years now, always at the back of his mind, in the corner of his eyes, a constant weight upon him?

But no, Justice didn’t know any of that. How could he?

And Klavier could remember the first time he had a breakdown in front of Herr Vogel . His first time at the man’s house, in that living room with the fucking god-awful portrait. Herr Vogel had said, with that stoic voice of his, the way he voice almost always was outside of the courtroom (the courtroom, sometimes, back then, seemed like the only time Herr Vogel was really alive) that he had looked over the evidence Klavier had given him, and he thought that yes, in his opinion, in his experience, it made sense that the forgery was planned by Kristoph, with the initial plan for it to be used against Klavier. 

Klavier knew how it felt to have someone’s trust crumble in your hands. 

He knew how it was when that person was specifically Kristoph. 

“ Herr Vogel and I have reason to believe mein Bruder to be a murderer.” 

He was met with shocked silence from Justice. 

Then,

“WHAT?!” 

“Not much volume control over there, hm Herr Forehead?” Klavier winced.

“You think Mr. Gavin is a murderer?!” Justice asked a slightly more tolerable volume. 

“Welcome to the past years of my life.” Klavier grumbled. 

And then he told Justice about the notebook page, and Brushel and Misham and Enigmar. Justice didn’t interrupt, just listened. 

“And we have no actual hard evidence - no conclusive evidence - out of the entire mess.” Klavier finished. 

“Shit,” Justice said with feeling, then, “I think you’ll need to turn here. 

They came to an old building. It might’ve been a house, or maybe a boatshop. The docks that it sat right next to were old and looked like they were rarely, if ever used. There was a figure in the lake. It looked like the water only went up to about the person’s knees. The headlights lit them up, but the person didn’t look up, hands submerged underneath the water like they were holding something down. 

Klavier recognized him, of course he did. Still, it took him a moment to admit that fact to himself. 

He climbed out of the car, Justice exiting as well. The person still didn’t move. 

“Kristoph.” Klavier called out, and then finally Kristoph turned his head towards them. He stood to his full height slowly, gradually. One of his feet was noticeably placed on something higher than the other. 

“Klavier, good evening,” Kristoph greeted. His hair was strewn about in a mad rat’s nest, “And Mr. Justice. What brings the both of you out here at this time of night?” 

It’s hard to see, even with the headlights from the car lending some light in the night. Still, something in Klavier knew. Kristoph had had his hands in the water, pushing down on something. His foot now kept whatever it was there, under the water’s surface. There were lines in the man’s face and arms, red bleeding scratches. Klavier’s brain had all the pieces, but putting them together was another matter. His body, on the other hand, worked faster, worked with barely hesitation. Before he knew what he’s doing, he’s running forward. 

His knuckles find this brother’s face, punching him. Kristoph goes down, splashing into the water, and Klavier goes after him, delivering a second punch. The anger he’d done his best not to let out at Justice had come back fiercer, hotter. He punched Kristoph a third time. His brother’s glasses was broken, a few shards imbedded into Klavier’s fist. 

“Klavier-” Kristoph grunted, trying to push Klavier off. There’s splashing behind Klavier, and then Justice’s voice shouting.

“Mr. Wright!” 

From underneath the water’s surface, Justice pulled out the boneless Herr Vogel . It’s enough distraction that Kristoph managed to get out from underneath Klavier, pushing him so that he landed on his butt in the water of the lake. One of Kristoph’s hands went to his face, already bruising. Klavier’s knuckles hurt. 

“He attacked me, I had to act in self-defense.” Kristoph lied so easily.

“No you didn’t!” Klavier shouted back.

“You weren’t here, Klavier. You certainly don’t know Wright.” Kristoph was now climbing to his feet, and Klavier responded in kind, fumbling a bit on the slippery surface. He was already soaked. 

“I-I need an ambulance and police at Gourd Lake. Please, it’s urgent.”

Justice, somehow, had managed to keep some modicum of control over his own situation. Herr Vogel , like a soaked rag doll, was lying just barely out of the water, not moving. Not even his chest. Justice had pulled out his phone, sandwich between his shouter and his ear, while he started compressions. CPR, Klavier recognized. He could also see how Justice was shaking, a constant tremble. 

“Mr. Justice,” Kristoph said, turning towards Justice as if Klavier was no longer worth his attention.

“Sh-shut up…!” Apollo snapped. The phone fell from its precarious position and onto the beach. 

“Mr. Justice,” Kristoph started again, taking a step towards him, “Think about what you’re doing.”

Apollo faltered, but only for a second before reaching behind his long jacket and pulling out an honest-to-God gun that he pointed at Kristoph. 

“Stay where you are!” Apollo ordered, and then to Kristoph, “Do you know CPR?”

Klavier nodded and, catching on, went as quickly as he could to take Apollo’s place. Yes, hands like this, pushing down with all his weight. He remembered getting taught it at one point, but the knowledge felt distant now. Something crackedunder his hands, but Klavier didn’t stop. Apollo was standing now, keeping his gun trained on Kristoph. A glance showed that Kristoph had raised his arms up and was glaring at them. 

The anger towards Kristoph had gone dormant as Klavier focused on trying to get Herr Vogel to breathe again. How long had he been held underneath that water? Was he even still alive? 

Klavier tilted Herr Vogel’s head back and breathed into it. Yes, he was supposed to do that, right? Then back to compressions. 

His eyes were drawn to the little green charm that even now sat around Herr Vogel’s neck. He’d always thought that the glow from it must be his imagination, but now, in the dark, the glow was unmistakable. 

… and was it his mind playing tricks on him, or was that glow getting brighter now, stronger? 

Klavier brushed it with his fingertips and ripped his hand away, looking towards the lake. A light, hadn’t there been a sudden light coming from behind him? Something bright and loud. 

No, just his imagination. He can’t stop compressions, there has to still be a chance of  Herr Vogel living. There’s no way he’s dead, not after everything, not after all of this. 

“Come, Phoenix, breathe, breathe,” Klavier said repeatedly, fervently like a prayer. The little green gem kept hitting his hand as he continued to try and get Herr Vogel’s heart pumping, get his heart beating, get him to live. Flashes of light and sound threatened to overwhelm him. A new sound, the sound of sirens, was audible now and drawing closer. Instead of reassuring him, a sense of dread swept over Klavier. The ambulance couldn’t be here yet. If they got here, they’d think that Herr Vogel was dead, and he wasn’t he wasn’t dead, he was just- 

There was just-

Neither Kristoph nor Apollo were saying a single word. That made it easy to hear the splashing water behind him. When Klavier tried to see what was making the sound, however, he was greeted by just the calm and glass surface of the lake. 

Crunching feet on rocks and sand. 

Only Klavier, Justice, and Kristoph were on the beach. 

A warm pressure on his shoulder, then carding through his hair. 

And then, Herr Vogel gasped. 

Like they’d been waiting, the ambulance and police arrive as one, doors of vehicles slamming open. 

“What’s going on here?” The gruff and familiar voice of Gumshoe loudly announced the man’s presence on the scene. 

“Mr. Gavin was trying to drown Prosecutor Wright.” Apollo was still holding his gun up, still pointing it at Kristoph. 

“I told you, it was self defense.” Kristoph repeated, cool as ever. Coolest defense in the West, in action. 

The paramedics were already lifting Herr Vogel onto a stretcher. Herr Vogel still didn’t look great, coughing and twitching like he could still feel the fingers of death around him. Now that there’s more light, Klavier could see the dark bruising around the man’s throat and a stain, darker than his normal dark blue, from his injured arm. The rage threatened to rear its head again, but it was enough to watch as Gumshoe, not listening to a word that Kristoph was saying, roughly cuffed the man. 

There was another officer at the scene, Inspector Cabanela, Klavier was fairly sure that was his name. There was a little black cat with a red bandana balancing on his shoulder, bright yellow eyes sweeping over the scene. 

The paramedics were loading Herr Vogel into the ambulance when, at last, Klavier’s brain kicked into motion again. 

“W-wait! Where are you taking him?” 

“The nearest hospital. Are you family?” One of the paramedics asked and Klavier faltered. 

“ N-nein, but he’s my friend.” The word felt odd to say. 

“Mr. Gavin,” 

“I’m sorry, but unless you’re family-”

“Mr. Gavin,”

“I have a right to know-”

“Klavier!” 

Apollo was next to Klavier, dragging Klavier’s attention away from the ambulance.

“Let them go. I’m sure they’ll allow visitors once they’re sure he’s alright. Right now, you’re keeping them from getting him help.” Apollo told him. Klavier felt like refusing for a moment, but then he was further surprised by something big and warm settling over his shoulders. He was shivering, when did he start shivering? 

“Klavier, we need to take your statements back at the station.” Gumshoe said. Inspector Cabanela, it would seem, was the one who got saddled with carting Kristoph off to the detention center. 

“But… Phoenix.” Klavier said, words seeming so distant, so hard to pull together. 

“I’m sorry, I’m just doing my job.” He said, and Klavier finally noticed the man wasn’t wearing his coat. He looked down at the heavy warm weight and found the family green. 

“... you’re right. Herr Vogel would’ve wanted to get this finally settled.” Klavier said. 

“I’ll have your car towed down to the station.” Gumshoe said as he shepherded Apollo and Klavier into the back of the cruiser. Klavier pulled the coat closer around himself. He was still soaking from being in the lake

There was a noise next to him. He looked over. Apollo had a hand to his mouth, and then slowly, Klavier realized that the man was sobbing. 

“H-Herr Justice,” Klavier said. Apollo shook his head with so much force, Klavier was surprised it didn’t pop right off. 

“This is my fault.” Apollo choked out. His eyes squeezed shut, and the two little spikes of hair never looked sadder. 

“The only person at fault here is Kristoph.” Gumshoe said from the front of the car. 

“But I-”

“Gavin’s given me bad vibes for years now - no offense, Klavier - it was really only a matter of time before something like this happened. I’m just glad that Mr. Wright is okay. Or, well, not okay, but alive.” Gumshoe shook his head. 

“I-” Apollo started, seeming intent to lay the blame on himself. 

“Justice,” Klavier reached over and grabbed onto one of Apollo’s hands, “ Herr Vogel and I knew the stakes. He’s responsible for himself.” 

Apollo didn’t have an answer to that. He was still crying, but Klavier looked away to give him his privacy. 

Klavier had never felt so tired, and as the scene from the lake played over and over in his mind, silent tears ran down his own face.

Chapter Text

“Well? Did it work?” 

Phoenix settled in the great red-black realm. He felt solid, alive almost, but he also knew that was only because that was what he thought he should feel like. 

The red thread, still so tightly held in his hand, still tauntly urging him forward, stretched out before him, right past the other man. The man with the blue thread. The man with his face, and his hair, and his mismatched pair of eyes. The man had also, forcibly, settled himself into something approximating a physical form, as much as anybody could claim something like that here. 

If asked this question but a few (there is no time here, timeshas no meaning, and to try and even guess at a ‘length of time’ it’s been would be a foolhardy pursuit) ago, Phoenix wouldn’t have known what the other man had meant. But now, here, with the clarity that only somebody in the situation the two men find themselves currently, Phoenix knew exactly what the man was asking. He also remembered other things now, like he'd never forgotten them at all. 

“The results are… debatable.” Phoenix told the man who was not himself. 

“But you made it there? And you were able to walk around?” The man asked. 

“I made it. I’m not sure if I made any good progress as far as getting Kristoph convicted. Well, if we’re lucky, something will have come from my final moments.” 

“I see,” The man said, as if the vague sentence had, indeed, held everything the man had wanted to know. Or perhaps not, as he then asked, “And what of Klavier?”

“Alright, I think. I’m sorry to have left him. You should know that Miles got shot, but they say he should live.” Phoenix provided the man with the information he needed. 

“Too late again.” The man grimaced, looking to the side and gripping his arm.

“But things are better.”

“How so?”

“You might be able to see for yourself.” Phoenix said. 

“... I’m assuming that ‘might’ has to do with the return trip.” The man sighed. He didn’t look upset. He didn’t even look frustrated. He just seemed resigned to his fate, whatever that might be. 

“Drowned by Kristoph, in Gourd Lake. I’m not sure if we would’ve been able to switch back without that, anyway.” 

“I’m not sure either. It’s not as if I’m familiar with what forces I messed with. A dying man’s last desire. Or more accurately, a dead man’s last desire, final call for help.” The man recounted. The murky red-blackness around them almost looked like the bottom of a lake for a short unit of nonexistent time, but it faded soon enough. 

“A call I answered.” Phoenix nodded. 

“Is this it, then? Is this how it will end?” 

“Only if it’s how we let it end, I suppose. Again, I’m not sure what’s going to great you on the other side.” He said, not so much a warning as a gentle reminder. 

“I have been living on borrowed time for two weeks too long anyway,” The man sighed. Phoenix took a step forward, preparing to finish his journey, when the man spoke again, “Your… your family. I hope you show them enough love.” 

Phoenix closed his eyes, letting the words hit him down to his deepest layer. 

“Yours too.” He said. 

He took one last moment to look at the man. The man with his hair, and his eyes, and his face. The man who in many ways was him, but in just as many was so very much not him. He knew so little about the man, but as they passed each other, Phoenix knew what to do. 

He enveloped the man in a hug. The weight of it was weird and strange, a memory of a hug projected onto the action. The man, with hesitance, returned it. 

And then the tugging of the red thread was too much, and Phoenix faded back into pieces. 

oOo

Phoenix pried his eyes open. He felt… tired, but comfortable too. 

He was in a hospital room again. That made sense. His last memory… he strained his memory back, and he could remember the cold of the lake, the oppression of the water, Kristoph standing above him. He reached up to feel his neck. For having been strangled and nearly drowned, he felt more or less fine. Whatever medication they had him on, it must be good. 

“Oh thank God,” The comment surprised Phoenix, and he looked over to see Miles sitting in the room. 

“You’re okay.” Was the first thing out of Phoenix’s mouth. Miles shook his head. 

“You faint in the middle of the sidewalk and the first thing you worry about is me? You never fail to surprise me, Wright,” He said. There was something off about him, but Phoenix struggled to put his finger exactly on what. Before Phoenix could point out that Miles had been shot, Miles continued to speak, looking away from Phoenix, “You scared everyone. Maya, Pearl, Trucy of course, even Apollo. We… none of us know what we would’ve done if we’d lost you too.”

“Me too?” 

“Not after we lost Phoenix, our Phoenix.” Miles said.

And that was it. 

His voice. 

That little way he formed his words, and the way he wasn’t wearing glasses, and the too familiar maroon suit. It had all looked and sounded so right that Phoenix had forgotten that it was supposed to be wrong. 

“... Miles?” Phoenix sat up, feeling his neck again. He looked down at his arm. His completely fine, unbroken arm. 

“Yes Wright?” Miles said. 

“Miles, where’s Trucy?” He asked, hopeful. Miles seemed to have caught on that something was different, but not what. 

“I sent her to grab lunch. She’s been sitting in here worrying about you, you know.” Miles explained, and that meant she was alive, and nearby, and was going to return. 

Phoenix reached forward and grabbed Miles’ hand. It was warm and solid, and his fear that this was all a dream faded all at once. 

He pulled Miles into his arms, burying his face into the man’s shoulder. Yes, he smelled just like Edgeworth did. Like old books and his dad’s cologne. Phoenix had never gotten close enough to the other Miles to verify if he smelled like that too. 

“W-Wright…!” Miles made a strangled sound, but Phoenix didn’t let go. He held onto Miles, relishing his presence. 

“Miles.” Phoenix breathed out his name, soft now. Not with longing, because what was there to long for? He was right here. No, he said it with contentment, with trust, with security. 

“... are you feeling alright?” Miles asked

“I just missed you.” 

“... Phoenix?”

“ Miles. ”

Phoenix held onto Miles, and now Miles was holding onto him just as closely. He could feel Miles' breath on his neck, right where his face was buried into it. For a moment, it felt like there was nothing in the world that would make him let go of Miles. 

“ Daddy?!” 

Well, there was one thing in the world. 

Miles on his part understood right away, pulling back. His eyes were red-rimmed, but he was looking at the door, and Phoenix turned just in time to catch Trucy in his arms. 

And this, this right here, Trucy in his arms and Miles next to him, this was what he’d missed. This is what he’d needed so badly. 

“Daddy, Daddy is it really you?” Trucy cried. Phoenix could feel her tears starting to soak his shirt. 

“Yeah Truce, it’s me, I’m here, I’m back.” He reassured her. She fit perfectly into his arms, like she’d been made to be held by Phoenix like this. No matter how much older she got, and how much she grew, she always fit perfectly

“I-I though, I thought you were- that I’d never- that you…!” She tried to articulate herself through her own sobbing. Phoenix gently shushed her, holding her tight and close. 

“It’s alright, I’m here now, Truce, I’m here, I’ve got you, I’m here.” 

A nurse was summoned and the release forms signed to get Phoenix out of the hospital. Miles explained that Phoenix - the other one - had just suddenly collapsed. They’d rushed him to the hospital, and now Phoenix was here. 

While both Miles and Trucy seemed curious to find out what Phoenix knew, what had happened to him, but it was Miles himself who had voiced that it might be best to wait until they got back to the office, where everybody was waiting.

“Everybody?” Phoenix asked as they went out to Miles’ bright and ugly sports car. Trucy had yet to let go of Phoenix, holding either his hand or the edge of his hoodie, anything to keep contact with him. 

“Your little, hmmm, 'condition' caused a bit of a stir among those who know you. The two Ms. Fey’s have made the trip over and are, as I understand it, currently taking up residence in your office. Mr. Justice is, of course, involved. Ms. Skye has been constantly checking up on you. Ms. Misham has been making many visits to your office. Even Gumshoe has been keeping an eye out for you. And then there’s also…” Miles trailed off as they climbed into his car. He didn’t seem offended when both Trucy and Phoenix fit themselves into the back seats so that they could stay close together. 

“Also?” Phoenix pressed. 

“... your, hm, ‘other self’ took quite an interest in Mr. Gavin.” 

It took Phoenix a moment to piece together which ‘Mr. Gavin’ Miles was referring to, and then the penny dropped. 

“Of course he did.” He said simply, for a moment forgetting that everything that had just happened to him wasn’t universal knowledge, “What have I missed?”  

“So much!” Trucy always bounced back quickly, so it was no surprise the sudden energy she had. 

“Not very much.” Miles replied at nearly the same time. 

From there, Trucy and Miles launched into the explanation, trading off who was speaking in a pattern that seemed arbitrary to Phoenix. According to them, it went like this: Almost two weeks ago, Trucy had woken up and Phoenix was gone. She hadn’t meant to cause a panic, but after finding there was no note left behind, she feared something had happened and had contacted Miles. Miles had then, with the help of Gumshoe and Ema, started his own investigation into finding Phoenix. They found that Phoenix’s bike was missing, but that didn’t tell them where he’d gone. 

It was actually Trucy and Apollo who found Phoenix. He was at Gourd lake, soaked to the bone and unconscious. They’d brought him home, put him in bed, and then Trucy had spent the entire day worrying. Of course, she wasn’t alone, Miles had been there too, as well as Apollo, deciding to work at the Wright’s apartment instead of the office. 

And then Phoenix had come down the stairs, looking disoriented, and Trucy had known right away that something was wrong. 

“It just wasn’t you.” Trucy said with a shrug, like that explained everything that must have gone through her head upon seeing Faux-nix. Phoenix supposed it did. He wondered if it was the Gramarye magic that had tipped her off, or if she simply knew him and his habits so well that she could just tell. Either seemed equally possible to Phoenix. 

“And then yesterday, he just collapsed.” Miles said, glossing over the two weeks they’d spent with the man they hadn’t known. Phoenix supposed he’d have, well, all the time in the world to find out what had happened. He almost asked what the other Phoenix was like, but stopped. Later, he decided. He’d spent all that time in the other world, all that time with Klavier, likely the person who had known the other him best. He’d had Franziska - Phoenix’s sister - just a phone call away. And he’d never asked what the other Phoenix was like. 

It made him feel a certain way. 

They arrived at the office. He led the way of the trio. It felt important to showcase that he knew the way, that he knew these stairs and hallways like the back of his hand. ‘Wright Anything Agency’, a plaque on the door. Phoenix ran his hand over it. It felt like years since he’d last seen it. Trucy and Miles, bless them, were patient with him. He pushed open the door. 

Apollo was flipping through a case while lying on the couch. Maya and Pearls were rooting through Trucy’s various props. Ema was pointing out some details of a case file to Klavier. Klavier, who had situated himself at Phoenix’s own desk, feet kicked up. All conversation came to an end upon seeing Phoenix standing there flanked by Miles and Trucy. Apollo sat up, the case files were put down, and Maya and Pearls rushed over. 

Maya bowled him over, but he noticed how Pearls hung back, hands clasped politely in front of her. 

“Nick, you’re alright!” Maya cheered. Phoenix caught her and spun her around before setting her back on the floor. 

“You had us so worried, Mr. Wright. Don’t ever do that again.” Pearls ordered. Phoenix laughed lightly. 

“I’m not planning on it.”

“Mr. Wright, it’s good to see you’re okay. And you’re still… the current you?” Apollo asked. 

“ Achtung, it would take quite some adjusting if you are suddenly a third Herr Wright.” Klavier laughed.

“I still think we should take him to a neurologist, I don’t care what you guys claim Mia says about it.” Ema shrugged, popping a snackoo into her mouth and crunching down. Phoenix laughed, scratching his back. It was so good to hear all their voices, see all of them here in his office. He was loved, and cared for. It was a good reminder, a strong one. 

Phoenix found himself hoping that the other him had also felt this, and realized it. The love and the caring, the implicit trust, the support. A support that Phoenix had denied for years, had pushed away, had turned his back on in an effort to protect. But trying to protect others never seemed to work. Wasn’t it better to go into the fire with them by your side, if that was what they wanted, and enjoy their company and love while it lasted?

“... wait,” Apollo stepped forward, head tilting to the side and hand resting on his bracelet, more a nervous habit than anything, really, “... Mr. Wright?”

“God I missed you all.” 

It seemed like Phoenix had cried more, had more break downs, had more panic attacks, felt more, in the last couple weeks than he had in the entire past seven years, but he found himself crying once again.

“Mr. Nick!” Pearl cried out. Maya had already gone in for a second, stronger hug, and Pearls piled herself on top. Trucy, of course, joined in as well. It was almost impossible for her not to with how closely she was still standing next to Phoenix. Ema, with a shrug, joined the clump, and at some point Apollo had been dragged in as well. 

Phoenix was loved, and home, and safe. There was no Kristoph waiting around the corner to hurt him or his family. There was no Von Karma looming over him. There was just this.

“You have to tell us about it! What was it like? Did you go to the other you’s world? What was it like? Was the time the same?” Maya was already badgering him with question after question, dragging Phoenix over to the couch. He was sat down there, with everybody curiously taking a seat wherever they could. 

Phoenix didn’t let on that he could see Klavier sneaking out amidst the small chaos.

Instead, he just took a deep breath, and started with a cold, deep, and dark lake. 

oOo

There was a lot to be done, now that he was home. 

Days, weeks, months of work, really. A whole list. That first night he hadn’t been able to sleep. Instead, he’d sat on the couch in the living room - a living room that didn’t feature a big and looming portrait of himself - with Trucy fallen asleep next to him, curled up with het feet just barely touching him. A reassurance that he was there and within reach. Phoenix had, with a pen and a paper, written down everything he though he’d need to do. Things without set dates, or times, or in some case not even methods for execution, but nonetheless important. 

Tell Apollo and Trucy about their mother. He was just about exhausted of keeping secrets. Whatever the fall out would be, it would only get worse with time. 

Apologize to Apollo and show the man that Phoenix trusted him. Get through that terrible blockage in his throat and tell him how much his help for the Kristoph case had mattered, in plain and simple words. 

Go on a date with Miles. A real date, not with some other reason to be together because of a case or judicial discussion or watching Trucy perform. Something real.

Perhaps seeing if a service dog would do Godot some good would be worthwhile. The man would be getting out of prison fairly soon.

And Iris, Iris would be out soon as well - a countable, physical, real number of days. And he wanted to make sure he was there to greet her. The thought of her going back up to that lonely mountain with only Sister Bikini to keep her company, not even the life of two young girls to brighten the place, made him sad to even envision.

He needed to keep his family close and make sure they knew he loved them. This, of course, had no set end. 

Phoenix knew questions about the Other world, the Ofher Phoenix, the Other everything, would likely plague him forever. He wrote those down too, as if writing them down, somewhere physical, would allow him to free up that space in his mind of constant worry. He could still feel the water entering his lungs. Had the Other Phoenix lived? If not, had everybody at least found out that Kristoph had killed him? It was, at the very least, a relief to know that the Other Klavier would not be alone. He would have the entirety of the Edgeworth & Fey Law Office to fall back on. And Phoenix knew that they’d be there to catch him. If nothing else, there was that.

And there was also here, and now, and Phoenix standing outside of Klavier’s office. It’s a different number. He was glad he’d checked. He had the sense of mind to knock first. The strumming of the guitar from the other side came to a stop and the door swung open. 

“How can I- H-Herr Wright! I wasn’t expecting you!” Klavier said, his casual demeanor disappearing all at once to rigid nerves. 

“I figured that was for the best. I didn’t want you to suddenly have plans.” Phoenix said.

“I’m very busy-” Klavier started to say anyway, but Phoenix cut him with,

“I think we need to talk.”

“It’s alright, Herr Wright, Herr Forehead has told me all about the situation. Or well, he told me in the middle of it, and as I understand it, that’s all over.” Klavier said and looked ready to retreat into his room. 

“Not about that,” Well, not entirely about that, “We haven’t talked about Kristoph.”

“We really don’t have to.” Klavier said. 

“Please.” Phoenix said. Klavier hesitated, eyes looking everywhere but at Phoenix, and then his shoulders slumped in defeat, letting Phoenix into the room. The guitars on the wall were different. It was messier than the other Klavier’s room. They’re not the same, Phoenix reminded himself. Yes, they were not the same people. But it didn’t make his purpose for being here any different. 

This was the thing at the top of his list. 

“ Herr Wright,” Klavier said, in the tone of a man who was about to fold to avoid embarrassment. 

“I’m sorry,” Phoenix said, quickly and loudly. Klavier stopped whatever he was going to say. As if to make sure he had actually said it, Phoenix repeated, “I’m sorry.” 

“... isn’t that my line?” Klavier asked. 

“No, it’s not. I was disbarred because I made a dumb move, and you called me out on it like the Prosecution is supposed to. But I shouldn’t have left you like that.” Phoenix said. Klavier’s brow furrowed with his confusion. 

“Left me?” 

“I knew what kind of person your brother was - I knew for a long time, and I never said anything to you.” Phoenix explained. Klavier was silent for a minute, going over to his chair and sitting down. 

“I was fairly convinced I knew what kind of man you were. I doubt I would’ve listened.” Klavier defended… someone. Phoenix? Himself? Somebody. 

“And I’m sorry I haven’t told you earlier that I didn’t blame you. I told myself you didn’t need telling. And then, after working so hard to get your brother convicted, I didn’t stop to make sure you were alright.” Phoenix confessed the guilt that had been weighing him down. 

“I’m a grown man, Herr Wright. I didn’t need somebody to check up on me.” Klavier said in a completely unconvincing tone of voice. 

“You can still ask for help.” He imagined it must’ve sounded hypocritical, coming from him. Somebody, at least, must know that it was. Hadn’t he just drowned because he hadn’t wanted to ask the same man before him (not the same man, a different man) to help him with an investigation? A lesson he was still learning, that he doubted he would ever stop needing to learn. 

“... I’m sorry I believed him.” Klavier said. He was staring resolutely at one of his guitars. Phoenix followed suit. 

“Nothing to be sorry for. He’s your brother.”

“But shouldn’t that have given me a better understanding of him? Shouldn’t that have let me see what he really was? Maybe I did, and I just didn’t want to admit it.” Klavier considered. 

“Sometimes you can know people for decades and they still surprise you.” Phoenix said. 

“With bad surprises?”

“Whatever comes.” 

There was more silence, and then,

“... I liked him.” 

“Kristoph?” Phoenix asked. 

“The other you. I liked him. He came here looking specifically for me. He insisted on me visiting and doing my work at his office. He cooked me dinner a couple of times - with everybody else, but he made it clear he wanted me there. I think I’m going to miss him.” Klavier sounded almost shocked by what he was saying. 

Phoenix looked back at Klavier, and slowly, Klavier looked over at him. 

“I’m going to miss the other you, too. He was…” Phoenix didn’t know how to describe the other Klavier. In a way, trying to do so felt like betraying him in some way, that trying to put down what had made him him would be wrong. 

“That’s what the other you made it sound like.” Klavier said, as if he’d understood every unsaid work Phoenix had just said. Maybe he had. Maybe, for once in the last seven years, Phoenix was transparent enough to be read like a book. 

“Trucy, Maya, and Edgeworth are planning some kind of party tonight. I think they think they’re being subtle, but they’re not.” Phoenix told Klavier, offering him a smile. Klavier smiled back at him. 

“Tell them to set a place for me, ja ?”

Chapter Text

Phoenix wasn’t sure if he’d ever felt worse in his life. 

Well, okay, drowning had been painful. Struggling as he had sunk further and further into the lake, unable to breath, water everywhere, everything, with the odd little green charm tied around his wrist. Yes, Phoenix wasn’t likely to go swimming any time in the near future. Still, Phoenix wasn’t sure why he felt like shit right now. He could remember he’d felt a painful ripping, tearring, fracturing sensation that had come from nowhere. That had been on a deep and indescribable level, though, certainly not localized to his arm and neck. 

With effort, Phoenix opened his eyes. 

He was in the hospital. He supposed whatever had happened, Edgeworth must’ve decided this was the best option. Phoenix could remember he’d gone for a walk with Edgeworth. Everybody seemed so reticent to let Phoenix go out anywhere on his own. He understood it, of course, but that made the hovering only so much easier to bear. 

Phoenix shifted so that he could sit up. Oh, he hurt a lot. He found his arm was in a cast and there was a brace around his neck. Well, it matched the pain, that was for sure. 

“Thank God.”

He jumped slightly at the voice, expecting to be alone. But no, there Klavier was, sitting on the reclinable armchair in the room. He had bags under his eyes and he yawned loudly, stretching. 

“Oh, Klavier. You came to see me?” Phoenix asked. 

“You’re, of course, lucky that I haven’t killed you myself,” Klavier said as he pushed himself out of the armchair and came right up to the bed, “Do you have any idea, any at all, how much you just put me through? Put Herr Justice through? You could've died - you almost died! And where would that have left me? You made me a promise - both of you - that you would help me with Kristoph, and that you weren’t going to stop until it was all over, and how could you do that if you were dead?!” Klavier angrily demanded, pointing at Phoenix accusingly. He had tears welling up in his eyes. 

“Klavier-”

“I-I couldn’t lose you too! Mein Gott, nothing would be worth losing you, Herr Vogel.” Klavier said. 

Herr Vogel.

The nickname rang like a bell, like the sweetest of songs, in Phoenix’s head. He reached up and felt the spot above his lip. There was no scar there. He looked at Klavier, so close to tears. It felt impossible, and yet, he’d already been through the impossible once before, and this was that same brand or insane. 

“Klav,” Phoenix reached with his good hand to grab one of Klavier’s. Klavier’s squeezed it. 

“I… I just couldn’t lose you,” Klavier repeated, “I’d already lost Herr Faux-nix-”

“Oh my god,” Phoenix snorted a laugh and covered his mouth with his hand. It wasn’t enough, however. The dumb name replayed itself through his mind again, and he let out another laugh. It quickly transformed into a cough. His lung and throat fucking hurt, but it was worth it.

“Careful!” Klavier said, as if it would make Phoenix stop laughing. He managed to choke it mostly down, but his next words came out a little breathy from the laughter that still peppered throughout them. 

“Klav, p-please tell me you haven’t been calling me F-Faux-nix this whole time.” He asked. Klavier froze, staring at Phoenix intently.

“... Herr Vogel, is that, are you…?” Klavier asked with so much hope in his voice. 

“I suppose it shouldn’t be a surprise. In the other world, they tried to call me ‘Phony’ at first.” Phoenix said. 

“ Herr Vogel!”

Klavier pulled Phoenix into a hug. Phoenix thought that, in the past couple weeks, he’s gotten more hugs than he has… hm, finishing that thought doesn’t seem like a great idea. Still, none of them really compare to this, hugging Klavier. Phoenix had wanted to hug, or be held, or something of that nature, for a very long time now. But it wasn’t much the way of Von Karmas, and then Franziska was an ocean away. How much Phoenix had cared for Klavier had surprised and frightened him at times. But he also knew that it was all, ultimately, inevitably, eventually, temporary. Some distance between the two of them needed to remain. They weren’t brothers, they were coworkers.

Or well, that had been his mentality Before. There would be a Before and an After of all of this, Phoenix realized. In the After, Phoenix would hug Klavier back. 

Well, Phoenix would try to. The action was complicated with the neckbrace and the broken(?) arm. 

Once Klavier had dried his eyes, the nurse was summoned, and then soon after a doctor, who went through the medication he was prescribing Phoenix for his injuries. Apparently, he’d been asleep for almost two days after being found, near-drowned, with strangulation marks and a bullet wound in his arm, and that arm having been previously broken. Some paperwork was done to get him out of there, and then he was off with Klavier. 

It was only when they were in Phoenix’s car with Klavier behind the wheel that Phoenix asked. 

“Do we know who did it?”

“Kristoph.” Klavier replied. Of course. Phoenix closed his eyes. 

“Do we have anything?” He wasn’t sure how he was going to tell the police that he wouldn’t be able to testify. It wasn’t as if he remembered the whole event. Perhaps he would, however, bend the rules just for this. He did remember a drowning at the hands of Kristoph Gavin. He hadn’t played dirty in court since, well, since the Mia Fey trial. He didn’t want to again. But they needed something. 

“Plenty.” Klavier said. Phoenix blinked in surprise. 

“What?”

“We have plenty. After all, we have an utterly damning witness.” Klavier grinned. It was a little strained, like it always was when they talked about Kristoph being put away for good. Phoenix wondered what that must feel like, the conflict of trying to convict a family member. He wondered if, when the time came, he’d feel anything over Von Karma. 

“... Klavier, you do remember that it wasn’t well, me, exactly, that he tried to drown.” Phoenix gently reminded him. 

“Of course not. But I’m perfectly fit to testify, as is Herr Justice.”

“Two witnesses?!” Phoenix exclaimed before he could stop himself. Klavier laughed. 

“ Achtung, and another on a different matter. We’ve been busy while you were gone.” Klavier smiled. 

There was a comfortable silence that settled between them, so comfortable that Phoenix almost dozed off, still very tired from what he’d - or rather his body - had just been through. Soon enough, however they came to Phoenix’s house. There were several cars parked outside of it, but before Phoenix could ask about ask about them the car came to a stop and Klavier cleared his throat. 

“ Herr Vogel, ” He asked, face a plain blank mask, not unlike the one Phoenix saw in the mirror in the mornings, “I need to know - I’ve needed to know for a while now - what do you plan to do when this is all over?” 

Klavier has asked that before, if Phoenix recalled correctly. 

“I think… maybe I’ll try out poker playing, on a professional level.” Phoenix considered. Klavier shook his head.

“Not that again. I mean really, in truth, what do you plan to do. Beecause, because if it’s… I don’t… maybe chasing Kristoph forever is worth it, if it keeps giving you a reason to live.”

Oh.

That was what this was about.

Phoenix had thought he’d done a rather good job of hiding that.

Perhaps not. Or perhaps Klavier just knew him that well. 

Before, maybe Phoenix would’ve stayed quiet, an answer in and of itself. But this isn’t Before, this is After, and Phoenix would be willing to try for an even further After, if at all possible. So he said, 

“I don’t know, but it will be something.” 

Klavier looked like he was taking a minute to take that in. Phoenix gave him the time to. 

“I meant what I said, back at the hospital. Losing you again… I’m not sure I could do it. Maybe something so terrible would really make me truly the brother of my brother.” Klavier said. 

“Good prosecutor’s are in short supply,” Phoenix told him, like he had so many times before, “And I’ll be there, by your side, to make sure you stay one, for however long you need me to, and then longer than that too.” 

Klavier nodded, slowly and deliberately. 

“Good,” He said, “Good.” 

Phoenix had almost forgotten about the other cars until the got into the house. There, the noise of other people was impossible to ignore. Klavier led the way, seemingly completely unconcerned with the company. Phoenix followed after him, trusting his judgement, but curious and wary all at once. 

The living room was filled with people. 

“Go over this for me again. I need to know exactly how we’re claiming he killed Mr. Misham.” Franziska said. She was sitting primly on the armchair, pointing at something in a file. One of just about a hundred files in the room. They were on the coffee table, on the floor, in neat piles and in some piles that had spilled every which way. 

“From my understanding, it went like this-” Miles Edgeworth, bandaged up himself and sitting on Phoenix’s couch, replied. He leaned over to point something out but then made a hiss of pain. 

“Mr. Misham says he never met Kristoph, so he won’t be able to testify, channeled or not. Vera is still willing to pick him out from a line up.” Mia Fey walked into the living room followed by Vera Misham, Trucy Gramarye, and a girl that Phoenix only now, after his little trip, recognized as Pearl Fey.

“Okay, here, this could be useful,” Apollo Justice was kneeling by the coffee table and lifted a letter from a pile he’d been digging through, “I think this has Misham’s address on it, right? It looks like it was never mailed, but still…”

“Hm, let’s see here, huh?” Ray Shields took the letter from Justice, turning it over, “Well, add it to the 'maybe' pile. Who knew that Kristoph kept so much shit around his office and that old shitty shack.”

“It does make it hard to find anything useful.” Justice sighed. 

“Oh, guys, Gumshoe says that Diego found a g- Nick! Klavier” Maya Fey had been focusing on her phone before, but as soon as she spotted Phoenix and Klavier in the doorway, she jumped up and ran straight to them. She barreled into Phoenix and he stumbled backwards, not entirely sure what to do. All of the attention was now on him. 

“Good, you’re alright. You have a lot of explaining you need to do,” Maya got out of the way just in time as Franziska cracked her whip, advancing on him, “I could’ve helped you, why didn’t you let me? Or I suppose that you’re not really my fool of a brother are you? You have no memories like that.” She sniffed, but Phoenix knew her too well. That wasn’t a sniff of derision, that was her holding back tears. 

“Fran, I… I should’ve told you earlier, yes, but I am here. I can pay for my own foolishness.” He said. 

If he had the room's attention before, it was now dead silence.

Franziska looked at him, as if waiting for some other shoe to drop. There was none. 

She snapped her whip again, and this time it struck Phoenix’s shoulder. Before the pain had even registered, however, her arms had enveloped him. It seemed hugs were going to become a staple of the After. Phoenix couldn’t complain, especially when they came from his sister. 

“I’m very angry at you,” Franziska told him sternly, muffled into his shoulder, “I’m very cross at you. You lied to me, and then didn’t talk to me. You left me behind in all of this, and then you almost disappeared on me. I’m very angry, and you are very foolish.” 

“I know.” He said. She let go of him, wiping the tears away and straightening back up. 

“Then we will talk about it. Later. I have a trial I’m prosecuting tomorrow, and I need to be prepared for everything.” She informed him and went back to the armchair, getting right back to work. The rest of the room didn’t seem to be on the same wavelength as Franziska. 

“Wait, so you’re…?” Mia trailed off. 

“It would seem that Herr Vogel - the original one - is back.” Klavier told them, putting a hand on Phoenix’s shoulder.

He didn’t think he’d felt this nervous in front of a group of people since he was accused of stealing lunch money. 

Of course, Before or After, he was still Phoenix Wright the Turnabout Terror, so he bore the situation with a straight spine and a face that betrayed little expression. He gave the group a nod. 

“It’s a surprise to see you all here.” He admitted. 

“ Herr Vog- ach, um, Nick and I had agreed that expanding our operation would be for the best.” Klavier explained. 

“... he chose good people. I wouldn’t trust anybody else with this.” Phoenix said decisively and then let a small and hopefully soft and warm smile grace his features. 

“See, I always told you guys he was secretly a softy.” Maya said proudly. 

“Don’t let me interrupt you. You all seem very busy. However, you must excuse me, I’d be a terrible host if I didn’t make you all dinner.” Phoenix said.

“We can just order take-out, you just got back from almost dying.” Shields assured him but Phoenix shook his head.

“No, I’m going to cook.” He said, leaving no room in his voice for argument, and then marched to the kitchen with Klavier at his heels. Good, he was going to need the extra hand seeing as he was down one. 

First he was going to need to know what he had to work with. It was still early enough in the day to make most things for dinner. Had the other Phoenix bought groceries at all? It certainly didn’t look like it. His vegetables drawer was entirely empty, although not for lack of vegetables, they were all just oddly misplaced. Whatever Phoenix was making, it would need to be a lot. He had… eleven? No, possibly thirteen mouths, including his own, to feed. He blinked, eyes growing warm and vision blurring. 

“ Herr Vogel ?” Klavier leaned over with worry plain on his face. 

There were so many people in his house. 

People who were here because of him, or some version of him. Was it too much to hope that, maybe, they would stay? Just for a little bit? 

He thought back to the warm kindness and love that the other Phoenix had had. He’d felt so envious of it. And guilty for taking it from him. But here… would it be possible to have that? For this empty house to have warm kindness and love? 

He hoped the other Phoenix was back there.

Hm, what did he plan to do when this was all over? 

Von Karma was next, and taking as much rot out of the system with him as possible. Phoenix would undoubtedly be a casualty of that. Where would that leave him? What would he have after that?

Or perhaps ‘when this is all over’ meant just after today. What would he do then? He had two weeks of his own life to catch up on. Twelve people he needed to talk to at least. He wasn’t even sure why half of these people were here, but the way they’d all looked at him… yes, they had a reason for being here, that much was plain to see. Phoenix would need to find out why, and if they were willing to stay. He wasn’t the Phoenix who had had a family, he was this one, the only one he could be.

Maybe it would be enough though.

“I’m thinking a simple pasta.” Klavier said, breaking Phoenix out of his thinking. He’d been staring into the fridge for far too long now. 

“Alright.” Phoenix said. 

And if nothing else, if nothing else came from all of this, here Phoenix had Klavier here, working in perfect sync with him, as they prepared dinner.