Chapter Text
The worst part was the hours between when she left for school, and when Trucy came back.
Phoenix knew he should sleep during this time, and he did, on rare occasion. It wasn’t too bad, he told himself. Between the show his daughter did at the Wonder Bar and his own shift at the Borchst Bowl Club, he usually got home around 1 am or so. Trucy had been asleep a few hours by then, ferried home by a long suffering prosecutor after her gig ended.
So he got some rest in before having to wake her up and wake himself up and hurry to school and then…
Just wait for time to pass…
It frustrated Miles to see him like this. Phoenix knew that. Lazy, but unsleeping. Frantic, but unmotivated. Sometimes, he tried things to look busy. He cleaned the house and mended Trucy’s torn outfits. He developed an interest in documentaries (again to Miles’s immense disappointment). He tried jogging and gardening and when that all failed, online gambling. (Not quite as fun as the real thing. And much less lucrative for him, personally.)
Usually, these horrid gray sludges of time ended when they were back. His girl and his boy. His family.
But sometimes, misery did not dismiss itself so easily.
Sometimes Miles brought home news of corruption and shadows and endless attempts to make things right. Sometimes Phoenix would look into his face and see nothing but his own deep exhaustion reflected back.
“I don’t know how to figure this out,” Miles loudly groans, glaring at a long page of notes.
Phoenix tries to occupy himself with researching a good potluck dish for Trucy’s school fundraiser. Long ago he had learned that help from a defense attorney was okay, although questionable, but help from a disbarred, disgraced defense attorney was unfortunately a bridge too far.
“You’ll get it,” he offers, as some kind of something.
Miles looks over, suddenly quiet. “I wish…”
Phoenix waits a good long while. As eloquent as Miles is in legal matters, he takes a bit to be more forthcoming for personal stuff. But Phoenix knows what he is trying to say.
I miss working together. I miss yelling at you in court and then making out and making up after. I miss when the law wasn’t so… dark.
But the words don’t come. His partner merely sighs, and leans back in his chair.
Phoenix rises, and leans his head on Miles’s shoulder. “Yeah,” he says. “I wish that, too.”