Work Text:
Edgeworth hummed an inane tune as he filled out paperwork for a case he was working on; it was stupid and frivolous and downright revolting. It was the Jammin’ Ninja theme song. He had only Kay to blame for this ludicrous earworm of his; she insisted they watch it last night, and as she was the sole reason they cracked a difficult case the day before, who was he to begrudge her of such a simple request. If he had known the show’s iconic (and awful) theme song would get stuck in his head the next day, he would have exited the room as soon as possible. What was worse, the show made no logical sense at all; how can you be a jamming ninja? The whole point of ninjas was to be quiet and stealthy. And the villain was an absolute disgrace, the most garish costume in all of villain history; who put neon pink and neon yellow together? If Edgeworth had the time, he would march down there-
A knock on his office door reminded Edgeworth that he was at work and did not have time to moan about the travesty of a show his daughter was obsessed with.
Sebastian Desbeste entered the room with a flourish of his cape and wave of his hand. Less flashy than the other prosecutors but still with a hint of personality, Edgeworth had taught him well. “Good Morning Chief Prosecutor Edgeworth, I have the case files you asked for,”
“Very good, thank you. Leave the papers on my desk for now. I will get to them later.”
“Sure thing.”
Edgeworth had the documents he requested for a case he was working on, Prosecutor Debeste had no reason to dilly dally any longer. Yet, he stood there awkwardly rubbing his arms in front of Edgeworth’s desk. “Is there something else you wish to say?”
“No, not really. I’m sorry to bother you,” Prosecutor Debeste whipped around and raced out the door, only for his foot to snag on the rug by the coffee table and tumble into the bookshelf. A swipe of his arm to catch himself took down a myriad of books and to Edgeworth’s disgrace, his prized Steel Samurai figure. He went through hell and back to get it, camping out in front of the store for three whole days, two of which it rained endlessly. His portable charger broke, so he couldn’t do any work or contact anyone after day one. He had the absolute worst neighbours ever, a group of young people that needed to be taught a thing or two about respect. They laughed obnoxiously loud and drank foul-smelling liquids for two days straight.
The most infuriating thing of all is that those very same campers cut in the line! When Edgeworth got to the line three days before opening at around noon, a luxurious tent was pitched beside him, with loudspeakers and messy foods and the worst bathroom manners he had ever seen. (They didn’t even do the polite thing and find a store or go around the corner away from the tents like any decent human would!) They went in bottles and threw them haphazardly outside their tent. Then a day later, more people arrived and joined their uncultured friends. Nobody said a word when they all knew the basic rule of the line. No cutsies. And how does it all end? Shattered on the floor like his hopes and dreams.
Edgeworth shot the Prosecutor a glare.“Stumbling around like a bumbling fool will not help with your career. I suggest you find some dinosaurs to go with your reign of terror. Honestly, I-” Edgeworth stopped dead in his sentence. Sebastian was trembling. Edgeworth supposed he was a little harsh on the young man, but enough for the Prosecutor to shake? Edgeworth assessed the situation in front of him. Prosecutor Debeste did not appear to be in any physical pain, so he could rule that option out. Emotional distress, then? Edgeworth did not know of anything distressing going on in his employee’s life. As far as he was aware, he had adequate housing and food, a well-paying job that he enjoyed, and his friend group grew steadily bigger.
That left only one possibility; it was Edgeworth’s fault. He knew Prosecutor Debeste was prone to tears, but to the extent of breaking at the words- “Stumbling idiot, you will always be”
“Worthless,” Edgeworth mumbled. Sebastian’s father was abusive. He saw for himself with sheer shock that his father belittled him in front of others. He knew not to use that phrase, yet he did it anyway like the useless idiot he- No. That was Edgeworth’s own upbringing coming to light. He could not let unhelpful thoughts surface and control him. His primary goal now was to comfort the quivering mess of a man in front of him.
Edgeworth pushed his chair back and circled around his desk only to see Sebastian flinch when he neared him.
“Please don’t hit me.” A low whisper, barely discernible to the human ear, but it felt louder than a concert in this quiet room.
Edgeworth squeezed his hands together. He never was very good at comforting people. Edgeworth could turn around a mysterious case in less than an hour and find the truth, but when he saw someone cry, his mind went blank. He knew what to say theoretically. A hundred different sympathies entered his mind’ ‘I’m so sorry,’ ‘I hope you feel better soon, pet,’ but he didn’t want to offer empty words to anyone; his comfort had to be precise, specific and excellent.
Staring at the man in front of him, Edgeworth said the first thing to come to mind that felt like him. “Would you like some tea?” Edgeworth couldn’t tell whether he received a nod or if the shaking worsened. Nevertheless, he guided Sebastian to the couch, carefully sidestepping the broken figure and went to put on a pot of tea. He chose chamomile to help the poor lad relax.
Edgeworth chose the china teacup with a family of bluebirds on it, hoping it would make Sebastian smile. He set the cup gently on a coaster decorated with roses and pushed it forward.
Sebastian stared at the ground as his shoulders shook and his breathing stuttered. Edgeworth realised with startling clarity his crying was quiet. A painful memory from his childhood reared its ugly head. Sitting in the cold and vast von Karma mansion for the first time, having lost his father, friends and everything that was ever familiar to him. Edgeworth can tell now that his fears were justified. But back then, all he could remember was the crack of the whip and “von Karmas are perfect, tears make you weak.” A scolding Edgeworth never forgot. The best thing, the only thing he could do now, is say what comes naturally and hope it will help.
“When I was younger, my father died tragically, and I was shipped off to Germany with a cruel man by the name of Manfred von Karma.” Edgeworth gripped his teacup tightly. Talking about his past felt like pulling teeth at times. It seemed to be working though, as Sebastian looked up at Edgeworth.
“The killer of the infamous DL-6 case?”
Edgeworth tried to give Sebastian an encouraging smile. It felt more like a grimace. “You did your homework, I see,”
“I watched all your trials after….” Sebastian trailed off, his eyes growing watery once more.
Edgeworth cleared his throat politely and forced himself to continue. “I was taught that showing any emotion was a sign of vulnerability, one my enemy could use to strike me down. Because of that and the endless ways our father pitted us against each other, I never grew close with my sister until the famed defense attorney Phoenix Wright came back into my life.” Edgeworth stared into his tea, contemplating how true that statement was before continuing with his monologue.
“One day, I overheard von Karma speaking on the phone to someone, I knew it was rude and unbefitting of someone of my stature, but once I heard my name, I couldn’t tear myself away. He was on the phone with an orphanage. If I didn’t please him, I would be sent off to the first place that would take me. Later that day, I found a lost dog and had to argue with a lady as to why it wasn’t hers. He saw my worth as a prosecutor, and I was trained under his tutelage. He set me up to manipulate the court system as a final ‘screw you’ to my father. I was miserable in that household, but I learned to repress my emotions and any feelings besides gratitude that I might hold towards my adoptive father.”
Edgeworth turned to look at Sebastian and hoped his eyes showed the concern and affection he held for the young lad. “I don’t want that to happen to you. Sebastian, what your father did wasn’t-isn’t your fault. You are in no way responsible for his abhorrent behaviour. You were only a child, for goodness sake. How were you to know all the pain he would cause people?”
As expected, Sebastian started to cry again. He wiped his eyes with his sleeves and gasped for air. What Edgeworth did not expect was for Sebastian to leap forward and bury his face in Edgeworth’s cravat, effectively ruining it with his tears and snot. How is this not the first time this exact scenario has happened to me? Edgeworth thought as he rubbed Sebastian’s back and allowed the man to let years of illicit tears and pain out.
“You are not your father,” Edgeworth murmured in what he hoped was a soothing matter. “You are smart and competent and an upstanding employee. Since I met you, you have improved in leaps and bounds in all aspects, in your work performance, your relationships with other people and most importantly, within yourself. Any father would be proud to call you his son.”
Sebastian remained in Edgeworth's office for an hour. Edgeworth held him through it, eventually prying Sebastian off of him so he could grab his coat hanging by the door and drape it over the man when his sobs turned into shivers. That seemed to soothe him enough, and soon his tears stop and his breath evens out.
Sebastian averts his gaze, his embarrassment apparent. “Thank you, Chief Prosecutor. I really needed that.”
Edgeworth glances towards the clock hanging across from the couch.“Sebastian, it is now five o’clock. The workday is now over; you can call me ‘Dad’ if you like.”
Sebastian brightens up. He stands, straightening out his crumpled uniform. “I would like that very much, Dad.” Edgeworth took up his briefcase, locked his office doors, and they walked down the halls together. “I can’t believe I broke down at work. How unprofessional is that?”
Edgeworth shook his head. “I cannot count the number of times it has happened to me, only this time you had someone with you.”
Sebastian groaned. “Kay is going to be worried about me when I get home. Do you have any concealer in your bag?”
“I stopped hiding my tears months ago,” Edgeworth paused, considering his words and decided to continue. “I also happened to have run out of it last week.”
“Guess I’ll have to deal with her mothering me tonight,"
“The phrase is ‘smothering you,’” Edgeworth corrected. “And you know Kay cares deeply about both of us. The entire office knows that with how unprofessional she is, not a day goes by without her barging into my office and yelling about who knows what.”
“Highly unprofessional.” Sebastian nodded. “You are the Chief Prosecutor, and during work hours should be referred to as such.”
“Indeed. But that does not mean you cannot come to me with personal problems during office hours. You are always free to contact me.”
“Duly noted.” Sebastian halted in his walking. “Oh no, please tell me I’m wrong. It’s Kay’s turn to cook tonight, am I right?”
Edgeworth felt his stomach fill up with dread. “It is.” Kay is an excellent cook. There was no doubting that she always made meals worthy of a five-star restaurant for the price of fast food. The problem was her current mission: over the past month, she has dedicated herself to making the spiciest food possible and torturing her beloved family with it. Edgeworth blamed Miss Skye for getting Kay into the show ‘Hot Wings’ where each round they attempt to each spicier chicken wings than the last. It was not Edgeworth’s type of show, too dramatic and fast-paced, but Kay seemed to like it, and that was enough.
“I can pick up some milk on the way home.”
Sebastian sighed out of relief. “Thanks, Dad.”
“You’re welcome, son.”