Chapter Text
The attorney lounge was positively buzzing as Nick strode into the room. He bashfully dodged the praises of the other attorneys but he couldn’t help but feel like he was walking on clouds. He had been on a winning streak and as a rookie attorney it was the greatest thing he could hope for in starting his budding career.
A piercing glare from across the room cut straight through the crowd of attorneys huddled around him. His good mood was immediately torpedoed. This was the trade off he hadn’t anticipated nor wanted as payment for his his newfound success.
Miles Edgeworth stonily watched him with a resentful expression on his face. He was seated in the plushest armchair in the lounge. As he glowered, Nick watched as he brought a tea cup to his mouth; his lip curled so much that a bystander would suspect it was the cause for his bitter sneer.
(He definitely brings in his own blend. I wonder if he also brings his own chair in.)
Ruining the win streak of another attorney, especially one so celebrated and feared as Edgeworth, certainly invoked a mixed bag of emotions within himself. However, based on his expression, he suspected Edgeworth’s feelings were less conflicted on the matter.
Nick sheepishly extricated himself from the crowd and made his way over to Edgeworth.
“Wright,” he spat venomously before putting his now empty tea cup aside, “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”
“Well, if looks could kill, yours would have dropped me dead,” he barbed back but immediately felt bad about it.
Edgeworth rolled his eyes. "Come to gloat then?"
Nick sheepishly rubbed the back of his head. "No, no, that wasn't my intention. I just came over to chat but clearly it's not a good time."
Edgeworth's only response was to glower at him again.
(Great job. Idiot.)
Edgeworth looked on edge. His hair and clothes were impeccable as always but he carried a hardness that went beyond his usual cool demeanor. Nick knew he was the cause; he hadn’t intended to come here to start a fight but here he was, already failing miserably. Edgeworth was much better to have as an ally than an opponent and yet Nick continually found himself as his opposition.
“I don’t intend to lose out there today,” Edgeworth said quietly, dangerously.
“Look, Edgeworth, we’re both just doing our jobs. I’m not here to rub it in your face but I’m just doing the best I can to get by. And I wasn’t going to be put away for a murder I didn’t commit.”
Edgeworth lifted his eyebrows and pulled himself up gracefully. “And you weren't. So is there a reason we're having this conversation?”
“I guess I'm just curious why you warned me beforehand of your intentions,” Nick shrugged.
There was more that he wanted to ask but he needed to start somewhere.
Anger flashed in Edgeworth’s eyes. “I have nothing to fear from speaking with you. You look like a fawn; fragile, unsteady on your feet. Consider it a forecast of the storm to come. You can be ready for it or get caught in the squall.”
A coffee appeared in Nick’s hands, breaking the tension. Someone in the crowd had pushed upon him and he accepted it gratefully.
“Well, I much prefer the type of forecasts that deliver coffee. Is this the type of perk an ace attorney can come to enjoy?” he said cheekily as he took a sip.
Edgeworth’s eyes flickered between the cup and his eyes. The sneer on his face deepened. “Keep your wits about you, Wright,” he warned.
He tempestuously disappeared into the crowd. The other attorneys parted for him involuntarily.
(What the hell was that about?)
He sighed. He hadn’t intended to needle him and would have enjoyed the opportunity to clear the air. But clearly Edgeworth had other plans.
The coffee was great, at least.
They stood across the courtroom each other in a standoff that felt reminiscent of a cowboy movie.
If he was going to succeed again then Nick knew he had to keep Edgeworth from getting to his head. He decided to try to ignore him and broke away from their mutual stare down first but the noise of a small cough caught his ear. He looked up and saw, almost imperceptibly, as Edgeworth placed a long finger just between his neck and cravat and loosened it ever so slightly.
Nick frowned. Something about it shook him. It was so subtle and yet so glaringly out of character. If the effects of their conversation had Edgeworth cracking then the sight of it was throwing Nick far more deeply.
He shook his head. No, Edgeworth was probably just toying with him. He turned his attention to the front of the court where the judge presiding over the case began banging his gavel.
“Prosecution is ready, your Honor.”
“Defense is ready, your Honor.”
Court was in session.
“Prosecution, do you have any opening remarks?”
“Ye-es <ahem>, excuse me, yes, your honor,” Edgeworth’s voice cracked slightly from a cough but he continued through, unperturbed.
“The prosecution intends to find a guilty verdict in one Gina Watson for the murder of her business partner, Bradley Burbank. She poisoned him on November 4 as described in the autopsy report, which has been submitted to the court record as evidence.”
Nick had poured over the autopsy leading up to the trial and it only left him stumped. The cause was suspected poisoning but the compound hadn’t been identified. The toxicological report provided no evidence that the victim’s system contained any of the more common compounds; the entire panel had shown up negative. If only he could find the compound he knew he stood a much better chance of getting his client released.
Conversely, Edgeworth also needed to provide enough circumstantial evidence to pin the crime on Gina. While Nick would never underestimate Edgeworth’s ability to pull a win out of his back pocket, he was certain in this case that Edgeworth had as little to go off of as he did.
It would be a tough one for either of them to win.
Gina took the stand. She had a bookish look. Red hair, glasses, and looked nervous and small on the stand. Nick gave her a reassuring nod as Edgeworth stared her down coldly.
“State your name and job title for the courts,” Edgeworth said in a clipped voice.
“Gina Watson. I’m th-the cofounder of Watbank Chocolatiers,” she spoke timidly.
(Don’t back down to him. He will eat you alive.)
“The accused will provide testimony to the court,” the presiding judge said.
“I’ve known Bradley my wh-whole life. We grew up together, right next door to each other. We used to spend summers baking with our moms in the kitchen, and then we started doing it on our own as a side business. We both went into the culinary arts - I went on to become a master chocolatier while Bradley studied food chemistry. He was brilliant at understanding the functional elements of ingredients and could come up with incredible combinations.”
Nick rubbed his face thoughtfully. He had spoken to Gina at length in the detention center but he had some details he wanted to establish before the court.
“What was business like? It sounds like you had a successful partnership.”
“Objection! The defense is leading the witness!” Edgeworth piped up before coughing into his elbow.
“Hmm. Objection denied, but I will warn Mr. Wright to stick to a more direct line of questioning,” the judge said definitively, “And will the court assistant kindly bring water for the prosecution.”
Edgeworth glowered at him from across the court and Nick only raised his eyebrow in response.
(Is this a tactic? If he’s trying to unsettle me then it’s working.)
“Please answer the question, Ms. Watson,” Nick continued.
“Business was good. I have financial records to demonstrate this. We were recently expanding into a new product line of functional chocolates.”
“Describe some of these products for me,” he encouraged.
“Objection! This is irrelevant!” Edgeworth rasped in exasperation.
“Mr. Wright, does this question have a point?” the judge asked.
Irritation was evident on his face and Nick shirked back slightly. He began to sweat. He really wanted it to have a point. He had gone through many of their recipes in hopes there was something in there that could help them.
“Your Honor, I believe the poison could have been something more benign than what we think of as a traditional poison. As a food chemist, Mr. Burbank had unfettered access to additives and functional ingredients. Even if considered safe in limited, measured quantities, any ingredient carries the risk of toxicity.”
The judge raised his eyebrows. “Do you have evidence of this?”
“Well, er, no. But it’s a hunch.”
Edgeworth snickered from across the court. The judge gave him a reproachful look and he transitioned into coughing softly.
“Stick to the facts, Mr. Wright. The accused will abstain from answering the question,” the judge said gruffly.
Nick could feel himself losing favor with the court. He knew there was something there. He had reviewed hundreds of pages of ingredients and recipes; some of the ingredients came with their own safety data sheets.
“Yes, your Honor,” he grumbled.
“You’ve got to narrow it down, Nick,” Maya whispered.
“Your Honor, may I reframe the question?” Nick asked desperately.
“I will allow it. Make it succinct, Mr. Wright.”
This elicited a sneer from Edgeworth but he did not object, to Nick’s surprise and relief. Nick watched for a minute as he took a small sip of water. As he lowered it back down a slight tremor in his hand created ripples in the surface of the liquid.
“The question, Mr. Wright?” the judge pressed.
“Oh yes, my apologies and thank you, your Honor,” Nick shook his head, “Ms. Watson, do you have any product lines that contain ingredients that would be considered risky to handle?”
Nobody objected.
She looked thoughtful. “Offhand, no, I cannot think of anything. Bradley was always the expert but most ingredients, as you say, could be considered toxic in the right quantity but many of them impart a bitter or foul taste when accidentally added in the wrong quantities.”
He deflated slightly. Damn, he was hoping for something more to work with. No matter. He’d file it away for later.
“Would you say you and Bradley were close?” he asked gently.
She nodded fervently. “More than anything. We were b-best friends,” she began to tear up, “I would never do anything to harm him.”
“And, in your opinion, is it possible that this was accidental? Could Mr. Burbank have accidentally poisoned himself during a trial run of a new product?”
He was surprised at the lack of objection from across the court.
She shook her head. “No. I don’t believe so. Bradley was a genius. He was a chemist by training and very careful when experimenting with new food items.”
Nick nodded. “Thank you, Ms. Watson. No further questions from the defense.”
He took his seat and ruminated. He was no closer to winning but there was no denying that she had a good character. It would be her best defense against Miles Edgeworth’s prosecution.
“The prosecution may begin its cross-examination.”
Edgeworth stood up. He already looked tense. So much so that Nick wondered if his defense had been that effective.
“Ms. Watson, going back to your comment about your financial statements, I have to disagree on your point that business was doing well,” he dove right into it, “Your business had not been turning a profit for several months. Can you explain this discrepancy?”
“Yes, it’s not uncommon for business to ebb and flow. We weren’t in the red, yet, but we had hired several new staff this year and expansion almost always begets losses for a period of time.”
“And is it true that you and Mr. Burbank had several arguments regarding one of your staff?”
There was an audible gasp in court.
“I… Yes, I mean, we had disagreements regarding staff conduct but not enough for me to ever consider-”
“Prosecution has no further questions,” Edgeworth said tersely, “Prosecution motions to call one Mabel Hodge to the witness stand.”
Nick frowned. “What witness?” he hissed at Maya. She shrugged.
“Alright,” even the judge looked befuddled at the motion, “The court dismisses the defendant and recognizes the witness called by the prosecution.”
The witness took the stand. She was a short and somewhat plain woman with mousey brown hair and a stern face.
“State your name and job title for the court,” Edgeworth said.
“Mabel Hodge. I worked under Bradley as his lab assistant.”
Nick frowned deeply.
(Why didn’t we see her when we were interviewing the staff?)
“Please provide your testimony of November 4,” Edgeworth instructed.
“Yes, Mr. Wright,” she responded.
Nick looked up in confusion but found she was looking at Edgeworth, not him.
Edgeworth looked up with a deep scowl. “Mr. Edgeworth,” he corrected snidely, “Prosecution.”
Her eyes went wide and Nick couldn’t help but snort. A piercing glare from Edgeworth made him bite his tongue to stifle his laughter.
“My apologies,” she looked between them with a frown on her face but continued, “I arrived for my 9 am shift. Bradley was already in the lab, he usually worked all hours. But Ms. Watson was there with him. They were screaming about something. I didn’t want to eavesdrop so I punched my time card and began taking inventory. I didn’t need to be in the lab for my work that day so I stayed out of their way. Finally, I heard Ms. Watson leave angrily around 10:30 am. I didn’t go back into the lab until 12 pm which is where I found him.”
“Describe to the court what you saw,” Edgeworth continued, folding his arms tightly across his chest.
“H-he was dead,” she stuttered slightly as she recounted it, “He was lying face down on the floor in a pool of vomit and who knows what else. It looked like he had fallen but tried to drag himself out but didn’t make it. I dropped what I was carrying and rushed over but as I turned his head over slightly it was clear he was dead.”
It was an upsetting way to find someone you respected as a colleague to be sure. However, Nick could’ve sworn he saw discomfort flit over Edgeworth’s face.
(Strange. It's no worse than many murder cases we hear.)
He seemed to lean forward before using his palm to catch himself on the desk. Nick, admittedly, jumped at the dramatic effect.
“Would you say that they fought often?” Edgeworth asked through gritted teeth.
“Oh yes, all the time,” she responded.
He pushed himself back up with a shrug. “Prosecution has no further questions.”
“Oh! Okay then. The defense may begin its cross examination!” the judge chimed in.
(Huh! Even the judge was unprepared for a fast question period.)
Nick ran through his mental rolodex of facts from the case.
(Ugh, I need to think of something fast. Edgeworth must have hid her carefully from me.)
“Ms. Hodge… What qualifications would a lab assistant require to work in this environment?”
“Well, I obtained my undergraduate in general chemistry and received a Laboratory Technician certification post-undergraduate.”
“And what duties did you perform under Mr. Burbank?”
A small smirk appeared across her face. Nick cocked his head.
(Did she just… blush?)
“Learning, mostly. He was teaching me the ins and outs of an industrial lab. But on a day to day basis I did a variety of tasks. Inventory, preparing ingredients for processing, running trials, lots of paperwork… Those were the big ones.”
“I see… And in your professional opinion, are you aware of any ingredients that would be considered toxic if used in high doses?”
She faltered and Nick narrowed his eyes.
“I, uh…” she began.
A clatter from the other side of the room made Nick look up with an annoyed growl. Edgeworth had slammed his hands on his table as if he was going to object, but remained silent. The glass of water was knocked over on the desk beside him.
“An objection, Mr. Edgeworth?” the judge asked in confusion.
Nick looked at his opponent in bewilderment. His hair had fallen into his face and his eyes shone with what Nick swore could only be fury. Nick had expected an objection but when none came all Edgeworth did was upright his fallen glass.
“Answer the question!” Edgeworth said forcefully.
(What is happening in this court today?)
If she was concerned before she was downright terrified now. “No! I mean, yes! There’s a multitude of ingredients that come with their own safety data sheets.”
“You conduct the inventory, correct? Are any ingredients missing in quantities that would be cause for alarm?”
She seemed caught off guard. “Um, not to my knowledge. But I would have to verify my logbooks.”
“Are there any current product lines that contain them?”
“Objection! We’ve been through this line of questioning!” Edgeworth shot his head up, looking more frustrated than Nick thought he ought to be.
(We spar about these types of questions often… But he seems more frantic than usual.)
“Objection, I would like to explore this avenue with someone with the credentials necessary to answer the questions,” Nick responded forcefully as he slammed his own hands on the table.
“Objection! You are wasting valuable court time in your efforts to stall long enough to generate a meaningful question!” Edgeworth fired back.
The gavel banged thrice. “Order! I will allow the question but once again remind the defense to keep it relevant AND will warn the prosecution to curtail its judgment on what is or is not relevant to the court. You may object but I will be the final word.”
Edgeworth eased off but snarled across the bench at Nick.
There was an energy he couldn’t shake. As a defense attorney he was expected to work under pressure but he felt particularly under the gun to find something… But he didn’t know what that something was. He made eye contact with Edgeworth briefly. There was something unreadable behind his eyes. He was the cause for the undue pressure but Nick couldn’t put his finger on why. Edgeworth was masterful at deflecting and keeping cool to keep Nick off the scent. He didn’t usually get unraveled unless the witness was being uncooperative. If this was a new tactic Nick was going to have to think of something.
“Ms. Hodge?” Nick pressed.
“As much as Bradley wanted to explore other products we were focusing on chocolate at Ms. Watson’s behest. To compromise, Bradley created several lines of chocolates with functional ingredients.”
“Such as?” Nick pressed further.
“Chocolate with melatonin to help induce sleep, chocolate with caffeine for energy, chocolate with methylsulfonylmethane to improve joint health,” she rattled off, counting her fingers as she did so.
“Objection! Your Honor, I implore you to consider the validity of this exercise. Mr. Wright is no chemist. He cannot hope to create a meaningful argument from this information!” Edgeworth was practically pleading.
The judge nodded. “I agree. Objection sustained. Mr. Wright, do you have further questions for the witness?”
Nick was sweating nervously on the defense bench. He was out of ideas.
“No, your Honor,” he said glumly.
(Was this to be his first loss? No… It was too soon.)
Edgeworth pointed sternly across the courtroom. “Your Honor, my closing remarks if you will?”
Nick began sweating as he awaited the rampage. He closed his eyes in defeat.
“Yes, of course Mr. Edgeworth.”
“Your Honour. We may lack several pieces of circumstantial evidence to reach an easy guilty verdict on Ms. Watson, however, what we do have is a motive. There was evidence of infighting and financial difficulties. Whether or not the defendant is knowledgeable of the toxicological characteristics of the compounds contained in her business is irrelevant. What is relevant is that she had access to ingredients that may have functioned as a murder weapon under the right circumstances. And therefore-”
The rampage ceased.
“Nick, look at Edgeworth!” Maya hissed quietly, “he doesn’t look so hot.”
He opened his eyes to gaze across the courtroom where Edgeworth should have been delivering his final blows.
A fine sheen of sweat covered Edgeworth’s face as he used one hand to brace the side of the bench, his knuckles whitening in effort to fight the tremors that appeared to have taken hold.
(Does he look… paler than usual?)
Worry washed over Nick. It suddenly became apparent. He had been struggling through the entire trial. It wasn’t anger behind his eyes.
It was fear.
He had been in a rush to finish this trial but it was clearer now that it wasn’t because of Nick. There was something else going on.
“Get me the documents containing the three products that Ms. Hodge mentioned,” he urgently whispered in Maya’s ear.
She looked at him with confusion but he only nodded. The crowd was well-distracted at this point. Nobody would notice her slinking around.
For whatever was wrong, Edgeworth seemed determined to power through it.
“Therefore, your honor, th-the defendant’s guilt is obvious through the… the…” he coughed violently.
“Edgeworth?” Nick called worriedly from across the court, "Miles?!"
“Mr. Edgeworth? Are you alright?” the judge asked.
A murmur rose across the crowd as Edgeworth hunched over, breathing heavily, before righting himself forcibly once more.
“Fine!” he choked angrily with panic in his eyes, “As I was saying…”
He trailed off, shuddering from some unforeseen pain.
Nick couldn’t, wouldn’t, let the spectacle continue.
Nick stepped out from behind his bench and began to cross the court floor. “Objection! Your Honor, I demand we take a short recess to evaluate the health of the prosecution.”
“I said I’m fine!” Edgeworth cried manically, “The defendant is guilty because… because…”
His legs buckled and he slumped the floor with only his arms clinging desperately to the bench to slow his descent.
“Shit,” Nick hissed. He was first to reach Edgeworth. He was still conscious but on his hands and knees and struggling to find the strength to pull himself upright.
A small crowd formed around them. Nick hoisted him into a seated position with his back against the bench. His breathing was laboured and he had a now persistent tremor. Nick grabbed his wrist and gently applied pressure to just below the base of his thumb.
His pulse was racing!
“We need a medic!” Nick pointed at Gumshoe who sprang into action.
“Order! Order!” the judge barked, “Everyone is dismissed and ordered to vacate the courtroom for a medical emergency.”
Edgeworth lifted his head weakly with a small groan and Nick carefully placed his hand under his chin to observe him. His skin was near white but he was still awake. His eyes bore intensely into Nick’s.
“You ruined my closing remarks,” he hissed furiously.
(He’s alive at least.)
“You'll thank me later,” Nick said grimly. He kept one hand on Edgeworth’s shoulder to keep him upright.
He looked around and desperately hoped Maya was successful. His instincts were screaming. He was so close to figuring it out…
A shaking hand grabbed his arm with a strength that surprised Nick. He turned once more to face Edgeworth. He seemed to want to say something but was wrestling with it. Nick leaned forward so that they could speak as privately as possible.
“If you know something that could help me help you, now would be the time to share it,” he whispered urgently near Edgeworth's right ear.
As he pulled away, something behind Edgeworth’s eyes seemed to crack. The anger that he had carefully crafted to mask his fear disintegrated. Nick didn’t know when he had ever seen his face so open.
“The tea,” Edgeworth finally rasped. It sounded like a confession to Nick's ears.
“The tea?” Nick questioned. Panic began to rise in his mind. “What tea?!”
Then it hit him.
“This morning before trial,” Nick said in a hushed voice.
Gumshoe appeared over his shoulder. As did Maya, who pressed a bundle of papers into his hands.
“They’re on their way!” Gumshoe said as he surveyed the scene before him. Worry had taken hold in the lines of his face.
It was enough to spur Nick to action. “He was poisoned in a similar fashion to Mr. Burbank!” Nick said in frustration to Maya, “But we never figured out what that poison could be!”
He flicked through the papers as quickly as he dared. Melatonin overdoses induced sleepiness and confusion, whereas Edgeworth was agitated, alert and shaking. It also, apparently, wasn’t very dangerous. He threw the paper aside with a growl. Methylsulfonylmethane had no recorded overdoses and was considered safe. Great, he tossed it aside in kind and revealed only one ingredient left.
Caffeine. Pure caffeine could be fatal in high doses, the symptoms were varied but agitation, rapid heartbeat, tremors and thirst all tracked. Also, if this was the same thing that happened to Burbank, dying in a pool of his own vomit didn’t seem like an unlikely next step.
But no, Nick wasn't going to let that happen. He skimmed the treatment section and without wasting further time Nick looped his arm around Edgeworth’s back and helped him to his feet.
“You two! Come with me!“
He assisted Edgeworth out of the courtroom, supporting him as best he could, while Maya and Gumshoe trailed him.
“What are you doing?” Edgeworth asked weakly. His legs were only somewhat working to help Nick in moving him.
“Saving your life,” he muttered back.
Edgeworth only groaned in response and Nick wasn’t sure if it was because of him or the poison. He stopped and looked around and carefully began to ease him onto Gumshoe’s shoulders.
“Get him into the washroom. I’ll be there in a second, I just need to make a pit stop!” he instructed.
He was growing weaker by the second. Nick could see it in the way his feet limply dragged on the floor.
(Please just hang in there!)
He dashed to the attorney lounge, ignoring the horrified crowd that had congregated, and grabbed a glass and a salt shaker. Without wasting any time he threw open the washroom door to see Edgeworth slumped against the wall with Maya holding him up. He was paler than death and had a blue tinge to his lips that hadn't been there a moment before. Nick's heart caught in his throat.
“What are we doing, Nick?” Maya asked frantically.
“Mix all of this into a glass of water,” he said hurriedly as he shoved the glass and salt shaker into her hands, “It was caffeine. A toxic dose.”
Her eyes went wide in shock but she sprung to action.
He dragged Edgeworth into a stall and knelt down with him, holding him in front of him so that Edgeworth faced the toilet. Using his body as a brace, he pulled Edgeworth’s prone body against him so that his back was resting against Nick’s front.
(We don’t have much time but I think I have a few seconds for this.)
He ripped Edgeworth’s jacket off his shoulders and deftly untied his cravat.
“Take these!” He thrust them at Gumshoe who cradled them as if they were sacred.
Nick lifted Edgeworth’s neck and tilted his head towards the ceiling as Maya handed him the glass of salt water. Nick could tell his strength was quickly waning; his head lolled without much resistance against the hollow of Nick’s chest.
“What are you doing?” he asked almost inaudibly. Something about hearing the suspicion in his voice gave Nick a slight amount of hope.
However, alarmingly, Nick could see he was salivating and beginning to foam at the mouth.
“I’m so sorry for this, buddy,” he said grimly, “But down the hatch!”
Nick poured the salt water into his parted mouth and massaged his throat to help stimulate swallowing.
The result was near instantaneous but Nick was mostly ready. He dropped the glass and braced Edgeworth’s head as quickly as he could with both hands to aim him towards the bowl.
Edgeworth’s violent retching brought up the contents of his stomach in several waves. Nick held him as tightly as he dared but wasn’t quite successful in limiting the aggressive heaving induced by the vomiting.
(Now is not the time to be squeamish. He needs me.)
Edgeworth’s hair was slick with sweat and Nick had to fight to keep his grip. Nick could feel that he was going slack and worried that he hadn’t been fast enough with his assessment of the situation.
“You’re okay, you’re going to be okay,” he said frantically, half to himself and half to Edgeworth.
(Where are the paramedics?!)
With a sudden bout of strength Edgeworth clawed the side of the toilet with his right hand to pull himself into a brace position.
“You - fucking - ass-“ he began to choke out but was cut off by more vomit than Nick thought a person could contain.
Nick didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. The only thing he could think to do was to gently rub his knuckles up and down Edgeworth’s arched, writhing back.
It slowed until he was only coughing unproductively and breathing laboriously. Edgeworth weakly tried to use his already soiled sleeve to wipe his face in a very uncanny valley sort of way.
Nick procured a handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to him wordlessly. Edgeworth accepted it with effort and brushed it across the lower half of his face. Nick gave him the privacy to do so but could see the way his eyes streamed from the effort. He held him as best he could so he didn’t fall forwards into his own sick.
A commotion behind Nick signalled the arrival of the paramedics and he allowed them to begin their work. Edgeworth's head lolled forward and Nick reached forward to support him under the chin once more. Nick's heart gave a painful clench to realize he was unconscious; ashen faced and baring sunken cheeks. Nick helped them load him onto the stretcher but felt helpless to the situation.
"Edgeworth," he whispered as they rushed him away.
“Maya, Gumshoe, go do crowd control,” he instructed softly as he looked around the washroom.
“You got it, pal,” Gumshoe said without fuss, for once.
“Nick,” Maya said softly.
He looked up at her forlornly.
“That was brilliant.”
“Did I do enough?” he asked desperately.
She looked worried and he opened his mouth to press her further.
“You did everything you could,” she cut him off before he could speak and left to go follow his instructions.
He was left standing alone in a bathroom that was now a crime scene, wearing clothes that were covered in vomit that wasn’t his own.
(I hope it was enough.)
Now that the commotion was over he didn’t know what to do with himself.
(One thing is for certain, this case is just beginning.)