Archive of Our Own

It's a path he has walked many times by now. The cobblestone road as familiar to him as his own backyard. It stretches and stretches, and one would think it goes on for eternity, but Miles knows better.

He remembers making this journey for the first time a few months ago. The way he had walked and walked with no end in sight. Only on a whim had he eventually turned off the road and stumbled upon the cave. Entering it, he finally arrived at his destination.

The second and third time should have been smoother, but ended up just as clumsy, if not worse. He had turned too early both those times and ended up walking circles in a dead forest for hours before calling for help.

The fourth time went off without a hitch, and now, here he is, for the fifth time in as many months.

It was getting ridiculous, really.

He enters the cave, a damp and dank place that stinks of rotten eggs and moldy cheese. It had taken him till his third visit to stop gagging at the smell.

With no light to filter inside it is pitch black, and Miles leans up against the cave wall in order to guide himself through it. The first few times he had stumbled and stubbed his toe on a boulder, but by now he has learned where every crack and pebble is. He knows to stretch out his foot carefully and feel the ground before him prior to taking a step. It is dark, but he is not flailing.

Finally he enters a room, and that's where he sees him.

The man in front of him is old. A lot older than Miles, yet carries himself in such a way that one could easily overlook that fact. He wears a black and white pinstripe suit with a dark sapphire tie. His hair is long and braided, a few black strands falling in front of his oval face. His skin is pale, almost sickly so—and he has dark bags under his eyes.

Yet despite that, Miles would not be hard pressed to call him handsome.

He sighs the sigh of the thoroughly put upon when he sees Miles.

"Again?" He asks as he leans back in his throne. Miles nods.

"Again," he confirms and the man tsks.

"What was it this time?"

"Poison," Miles replies and watches the other man's shoulders shake in silent laughter.

"I hope you will monitor his food and drink intake from now on."

"Unfortunately, it's not that easy. This wasn’t poison ingested through anything edible. It entered his body through the skin."

The man whistles.

"That does make matters more complicated. And you remember our deal? What happens if I do this?"

Miles doesn't even blink. "I remember. I'm well aware of the consequences."

The woman on the man's left speaks up then. She is a beautiful thing—dark brown skin that somehow glows in a room with no light source. Her hair is thick and black, spilling over her shoulders and down to her waist.

"Miles, dear," she says, voice deep and rich. "What you're doing for love is admirable. But what does Phoenix have to say about all this? Surely he can't approve—"

"Phoenix is aware of our deal and approves," Miles lies.

The woman frowns, looking thoroughly dismayed.

"If that is the case, you need to ask yourself if he would do the same, were the roles reverse."

Miles just looks at her. "He would do this and more," he states, with no hesitation. He then turns to the man. "If you please."

He nods and with a snap of his fingers Phoenix appears. He smiles when he sees Miles, and it quickly turns sheepish.

"I died again?" He asks and Miles sighs.

"Do you even need to ask?"

Phoenix chuckles, turning a bit red.

"Sorry. This must be getting old for you."

"While I'd prefer for you to simply just live, I don't mind being the one to bring you back."

Phoenix's gaze softens before he turns around to address Hades.

"It's really cool of you to just let him do this, you know?"

Hades' eyes slide from Phoenix to Miles, gaze piercing as ever. Miles swallows and silently begs for Hades not to expose him.

"Sure," he finally says, after a moment of silence. "I am nothing if not a benevolent god."

Before Hades—or worse, Persephone, can say anything else Miles reaches out to take Phoenix's hand.

"We must be on our way now. Behind me," he tells his husband.

"Remember," calls Hades after them. "No looking back."

Miles grits his teeth and together, they make it out of the underworld.

-

Phoenix doesn't remember. He never does. That had confused Miles the first time, since he seemed to remember in the underworld. But anything that happens in the underworld, stays in the underworld, apparently.

This time Miles is fast enough to retrieve him before the ambulance even arrives. Usually Phoenix wakes up in a hospital, being dubbed "a miracle" by doctors and nurses alike.

Phoenix usually waves them off, not taking their, "by all means, you should be dead", seriously.

"Miles?"

He's on the floor, propped up against Miles chest. He runs a hand along Phoenix's jaw.

"I'm here," he mumbles soothingly.

Phoenix looks around, clearly disoriented.

"What happened?" He asks, voice raspy.

"You ingested a bit of poison. Not enough to kill you, but it did knock you out."

One hand comes up to cover part of his face in a sort of half-hearted facepalm.

"Why does things like this keep happening?" He grumbles and Miles almost laughs. Leave it to Phoenix to be annoyed in a situation like this.

"I don't know," Miles mumbles, kissing his forehead. "But I'm glad you're all right."

The EMT arrives then, knocking on the door and entering as Miles yells, "It's open!"

Phoenix tries to insist that he is fine.

"Let them do their job," Miles says, mildly chastising.

They put him on a gurney and load him into the ambulance.

"I'll meet you at the hospital," Miles says, kissing the back of Phoenix's hand before letting them shut the doors to the ambulance and drive him away.

Miles sighs and drags a hand over his face. He usually gets tired after a retrievment, but this is the worst he's felt yet. His head is pounding and he feels dizzy all over. He really shouldn't get behind the wheel when he's this close to keeling over.

After a bit of struggling he manages to get the phone from out of his pocket and make a call.

"Detective? Do you think you can give me a ride to the hospital. I—no, I'm fine. It's Phoenix..."

-

"What happened?" Miles asks and it takes every bit of self-control he has not to snarl out those words. He wants to lash out. He wants to hurt every single person involved, friend or foe.

Athena takes a shaky breath and wipes the tears from her cheeks.

"We were working a case," she starts, voice trembling. "This woman—"

"I don't care about the case," he snaps, causing her to jump. "What happened to Wright?"

Athena opens her mouth to answer and instead a mighty sob rips from her.

Christ, Miles thinks, but he dutifully closes the distance between them and pulls her in for a hug.

"He shot him," she cries. "He just kept shooting. I'm so sorry, Mr Edgeworth. There was nothing I could do!"

Beside her, Trucy breaks down, and that's more jarring than seeing Athena cry. He has known Trucy for a long time, and while he'd heard of her experiencing low moods through Phoenix, he had never actually seen it first hand.

Now she's crying, clutching her hat to her chest while making small, wounded noises as tears run down her cheeks. Apollo pulls her towards him and embraces her, letting her cry on his shoulder.

"Who shot him?" Miles demands.

Athena shakes her head. "I don't know," she whispers. "He was wearing a mask. Like a skiing mask."

"Balaclava," Apollo pipes up, face grim.

Great, so Phoenix was dying and the killer was running loose. Spectacular way to start the day.

Miles lets go of Athena and heads for the hospital room Phoenix is in.

He is laid up on the bed, deathly pale and monitor beeping ominously. His breathing is slow and ragged.

Athena's voice from when she had called echos in his mind.

"They don't think he's gonna make it."

Miles doubles over and vomits on the floor.

He can't do this. Not again. Not him.

Tears are threatening to spill over and he grips his knees so hard they ache. He wavers where he stands and ends up stumbling to the side, crashing into a table by the door. There is a loud clatter as a box of Phoenix's belongings is upended on the floor.

Miles swears under his breath, then gets on his knees to gather the objects up. There's his clothes, his attorney badge, a locket. His wedding ring.

Miles holds it in his hand tightly, taking a few deep breaths to collect himself. He pockets the ring and reaches out for the last object.

He frowns.

It's a bronze statuette of a man with a three-headed dog on a leash.

He turns it over this way and that, trying to find a clue as to why Phoenix would have this.

"They keep insisting on the beard, I don't know why. I've been shaving since forever."

Miles drops the statuette and scrambles backwards. His back hits the wall with a muted thud.

Before him is a man with a long, pale face, an aquiline nose and dark hair in a single braid. He looks over at Miles, amusement shining in his eyes and a small smile tugging at his lips.

"Who are—how did you get here?"

The man tips his head to the side and regards Miles curiously.

"You seem...surprised. Yet you're the one that summoned me."

"What?" Miles whispers and the man gestures at the bronze figurine abandoned on the floor.

"Through my statuette. You summoned me. Is it because of him?" He points at Phoenix's motionless body.

Miles just stares at him.

"Who are you?" He demands when he finally regains his voice.

The man tuts.

"You have my statuette, yet you don't know who I am? Shame."

Miles glances at the figurine, desperate for any clue.

A three-headed dog...

His mouth falls open.

"B-but that's impossible!" He nearly shouts. "You can't—"

"Three."

Miles blinks. "What?"

"Two."

"What are you doing?"

"One."
The monitor beside Phoenix suddenly stops beeping, letting out one long tone instead.

His heart has stopped.

Miles climbs to his feet, wide-eyed and ready to attack.

"What did you do?" He shouts over the noise.

"You can save him," the man—Hades, informs him. "But it will cost you."

Miles looks at Phoenix's lifeless body, the sound of the monitor doing nothing but amplifying his stress. He imagines saying no. He imagines calling security and having this stranger who claims to be an ancient god arrested. Imagines having to break it to Athena, Apollo and Trucy that Phoenix didn't make it. He imagines making the calls to Maya, Pearl and Larry as together they plan the funeral. He imagines life without Phoenix and...

He can't.

He can't do this. He can't accept it.

He turns to Hades.

"What is the cost?"

"Let's make a deal," Hades suggests. "You get to save your man now, and forever. Every time he dies you have to power to bring him back. For a price."

Miles swallows. "And what is the price?"

Hades smiles.

-

"By all means, you should be dead," the doctor says, frown deepening. "This is nothing short of a miracle."

On his bed Phoenix is way too busy deepthroating his third banana to listen, as Trucy clings to her dad like her life depends on it.

Miles holds back on commenting on Phoenix's dreadful manners and instead hands him a small bag of grapes.

Apparently dying makes a starving man.

"Mr Wright, you were shot three times in the chest. You died at one point. Do you have any idea—"

"Yeah, I don't really care," Phoenix interrupts, annoyed. "Can I just eat and spend time with my family?"

"But—"

Miles puts a hand on the doctor's shoulder.

"Surely this can wait. He just regain consciousness, after all," he says with a pleasant smile.

The doctor, looking a bit put out, nods and leaves with the nurses in tow.

"Thank you," Phoenix says and reaches out to take Miles' hand, pulling him into bed with him and Trucy. "I thought they'd never leave."

He leans forward and presses a kiss to Miles' lips, instantly turning him into a tomato.

Trucy giggles, Athena lets out a little cooing noise and Apollo flushes and averts his eyes.

Miles clears his throat.

"Yes well—" He straightens up and smooths a hand down his cravat as he lets the sentence hang in the air, unfinished.

Phoenix snorts. "Glad to see my close brush with death didn't make you any less awkward."

Miles flushes. "I am not—whatever!"

Phoenix laughs. It's loud and it's annoying and it's the only sound in the world that Miles wants to hear for the rest of his life.

"Hey, Wright. What is this?" Miles holds up the statue and Phoenix's face falls.

"Man...Don't touch that!" He scolds and Miles immediately drops the statuette back in the box.

"But what is it?" He presses.

"A Hades figurine. Dude that was killed was really into mythology and collected figurines of all kinds of gods. Ganesha, Ra, Odin—" he gestures at the box. "—Hades. Ironically enough his killer used the Hades figurine to bash his skull in."

Miles' eyes nearly pops out of his skull.

"You mean—"

"That you just got your prints all over the murder weapon? Yup."

Miles groans. "Great. Just what I needed today."

Phoenix smiles at him, one of those secret adoring smiles that he usually reserves for when they're alone.

"It's fine. At least I'll know to expect yours when I get that tested for prints."

Miles hums. "So, like—" he hesitates, not sure how to bring it up. "Nothing—happened? When you picked it up?"

Phoenix frowns. "Like what?"

"Nothing," Miles quickly says, dismissing the topic entirely, not because he doesn't believe it, but because he doesn't want Phoenix to get suspicious.

He shoots Miles an odd look. "Okay..."

"So what was it like being dead?" Trucy asks, making half the room squawk indignantly.

Phoenix does look to ponder it for a bit.

"Had the oddest dream," he says after a while. "I was in this dark, strange place. There was a man there, he wouldn't let me leave at first." He turns to Miles, and with a smile says, "then you showed up. And I knew everything would be okay."

Miles swallows thickly and forces a smile. "That's good."

"Oh yeah, that place was horrible. Good thing it was just a dream."

"Yeah," Miles mumbles. "Good thing that."

-

"Are you trying to get us to name a wing after you?" The nurse asks wryly when entering the room.

Phoenix gives him an abashed grin and scratches the back of his head.

"Is it working?"

The nurse huffs and goes to adjust the IV.

"You're very lucky," he says, jotting down something on the forms on his clipboard. "You should be—"

"Dead?" Phoenix finishes for him. "Yeah, I've heard that one too many times."

"That's because it's true," the nurse states, but doesn't elaborate. "Do you need anything?"

"Can't I just go home?" Phoenix begs. "I'm fine!"

"The results we got back showed you had a deadly amount of atroquinine in your body. We want to keep you overnight for observation."

"But that's impossible!" Phoenix argues, exasperated. "I'm still alive, aren't I?"

"Hence my, you should be dead comment. This is no joking matter, Mr Wright."

Miles puts a hand on his husband's back.

"Listen to the professionals, Wright," he tells him, not unkindly. "I'll be here with you. I won't leave you alone here."

Phoenix shoots him a grateful smile before sighing and leaning back against the pillows.

"Fine," he says on an exhale. "But I'm gonna complain the entire time."

Miles rolls his eyes. "How utterly unsurprising," he mumbles and Phoenix's lips quirk up in a smile.

The nurse leaves and Miles takes a seat by the window. A huge yawn involuntarily slips from him as he sits down, causing Phoenix to frown.

"I didn't want to say anything in front of the nurse cause I know how much you hate being poked and prodded at—but are you okay?"

Miles shakes himself. "I'm fine Wright. Worry about yourself."

"Yeah, I would, if I looked as tired and worn down as you."

Miles glares. "Forgive me for not jumping up and down with joy at being back in hospital with you for the fifth time in as many months."

Phoenix winces. "Yeah, that's fair. I just—you look...I'm worried. You've been different lately."

"You could try showing some regard for your own life," Miles grumbles and Phoenix frowns.

"Hey...It's not my fault I got poisoned. They put atroquinine in my hand cream. How was I supposed to know?"

Miles sighs. "Yes," he concedes. "This time it wasn't your fault. However the time you got shot while running after an armed suspect, the time you almost drowned saving Apollo, the time you fell off a ladder—"

"Step-ladder—"

"—and the time you got electrocuted all were a result of you disregarding your own life! That is not to mention all the times you nearly died before we even got together! You once ate glass!"

"See, when you put it like that it sounds really stupid," Phoenix mumbles, scrubbing his face with his hands.

"It sounds stupid because it is. Hope that helps."

"Thank you, dear," Phoenix responds dryly. He sighs through his nose. "Look. I'm sorry. I don't think I'm entirely to blame, but you're right. Confronting an armed suspect and jumping in after Apollo with no plan was stupid of me. I should not have been so careless."

He looks at Miles with those puppy dog eyes and Miles is entirely helpless against them.

He sighs, securing a strand of hair behind his ear.

"I know," he says, gazing out the window. "Taking risks, putting your loved ones lives above your own—it's who you are. As much as I wish you wouldn't, asking you to stop is meaningless, I'm aware of that."

"I'm not gonna stop," Phoenix agrees carefully and Miles clenches his fists. "But I could stand thinking more, and not just charge in impulsively. I've put you through so much these past months, and I'm sorry."

He looks absolutely pathetic, laid up on the crisp white sheets in a hospital gown, the sterile environment washing him out. Miles takes pity on him and stands up to stalk over to the bed. He crawls in next to Phoenix, resting his head against his chest and listening to the steady and strong beat of his heart.

Phoenix puts an arm around his shoulders and pulls him closer, until their bodies are completely flushed against each other. Miles sighs.

"I'm fine. You really don't need to worry about me," he lies. Phoenix places a kiss on the crown of his head.

"I wasn't trying to be an asshole. You look tired and you were wobbly when you came in here."

"Probably crashing after an adrenaline rush," he mumbles, pressing his face against Phoenix's chest. Phoenix hums.

"If you say so."

Miles doesn't like lying to Phoenix, but he doesn't have a choice.

After all, if Phoenix ever found out the truth, he would never forgive Miles.

-

To his credit Phoenix keeps himself alive for another three months before he dies again. It wasn’t even his fault this time. A car hit him when he was crossing the street on his bike. From what Miles gathers it was a complete accident. The driver was an elderly woman with deteriorating eye sight who had been caught up trying to read a street sign when she hit him. She was absolutely beside herself, crying and apologizing.

The ferryman doesn't so much as glance at Miles when he enters the underworld. Miles slings him a coin and he snatches it out of the air with a skeletal hand. He gets on the boat and allows himself to get ferried across the river. They pass Cerberus, who is curled up trying to sleep. All his heads open one eye to watch Miles, before concluding that he is no threat and closing them again to go back to sleep.

He steps off the ferry and begins walking down the cobblestone road. He no longer feels a sense of urgency doing this trip. The first few times had been stressful because he had foolishly operated under the belief that his deal had a time limit.

It didn't. And so now Miles takes his time. Not entirely voluntary. His body is heavy like lead as he moves, his chest feels tight—making every breath painful and his head is pounding. He has to take it slow, or he will be stuck here forever.

He carefully navigates the cave leading to the throneroom, only stumbling a little on his way.

"Three months," Hades comments lightly. "Must be a record."

Miles grunts.

Persephone eyes him with concern.

"You really don't look well," she comments and he shrugs.

"It's the price," he says nonchalantly.

She hums. "Is he worth it?"

Miles fixes her with an icy stare. "More than you'll ever know."

She looks unimpressed and Hades snaps his fingers.

When Phoenix appears now he looks annoyed.

"I was hit by a car?" He rants. "Again?"

Miles almost laughs at how angry he is.

"Miles, I'm so sorry. I keep doing this to you—"

"It wasn’t your fault," Miles tells him truthfully. "Old hag who should've had her driver's license revoked a long time ago."

"Is she okay?" Phoenix asks because of course, he is more concerned for his murderer than himself.

"A bit traumatized, but fine. She'll be glad to know you're alive."

Phoenix smiles, relieved. "I'm glad to hear."

Miles takes his hand. "Let's go."

"Remember," Hades calls after them. "No looking back!"

Miles doesn't tell him to shut up, but it's a close thing.

-

"You look like you've aged a decade in less than a year."

Miles shoots his husband a glare. "It's called the natural progression of time," he snaps. Phoenix shakes his head.

"No...No, this isn't natural. Something is going on. It's like you're—deteriorating."

"Next time you can just tell me I've aged horribly."

"I love you and consider growing old with you an absolute privilege, that's not what this is about. You look sick, Miles."

Miles sighs. "Maybe having to once again sit with you at a hospital after you nearly died is taking it's toll."

"Keep deflecting. It's not exactly doing wonders for your case."

Miles can feel his eye twitch. "Maybe you're the one deflecting. Trying to turn this around on me so I won't yell at you for being reckless again."

"It wasn’t my fault!" Phoenix argues defensively.

Miles sighs. "No, it never is."

"What would you have had me do differently?" He challenges.

"Wear a helmet."

Phoenix blinks.

"A helmet?" He repeats.

"A helmet," Miles confirms with a nod.

Phoenix rubs the back of his neck, looking a bit embarrassed.

"I guess—I should have done that."

Miles closes his eyes and crosses his arms over his chest.

"And maybe check both ways before crossing a road. That should help in the future."

Phoenix massages his temples. "I didn't—think...I cross that road every day and nothing ever happened before. Barely any cars drive there."

"But now it did. And it hit you. And you d—almost died."

Phoenix leans back against the pillows and closes his eyes.

"I'll do better," he promises. "But that doesn’t take away from the fact that you look like death warmed over."

Miles purses his lips. "Flattering as ever."

"I won't use my magatama on you, I would never invade your privacy like that. But I know something is wrong and I—you can tell me, you know that, right? I love you and I just want to help."

Miles bites his lip to stop himself from saying anything. Phoenix can't know. Phoenix can never know.

He can feel his eyes on him as he struggles to say just enough without saying too much. After a while he lets out a a breath and goes to crawl into the hospital bed with Phoenix.

"It's just been a lot," Miles says quietly. "You keep—almost dying and it...I can't lose you, Phoenix. You're not allowed to die."

He almost adds, "before me", but he stops himself in time.

Phoenix holds him tightly. "Don't you get I feel the same about you?" he whispers, carding tender fingers through his hair. "I've been so worried about you. Ever since I was shot it's like—you're not you. You're not okay. And if it is as you say, that you've been negatively affected by my—incidents, Maybe you should talk to someone. Professional."

Miles carefully lets go of Phoenix and sits up.

"You want me to see a therapist?" He asks, voice carefully neutral.

"Only if you're open to it. I don't want to push anything you're not comfortable with. But at least think about it?"

Miles stands and walks over to the window.

"I'll think about it."

Another lie.

-

His eyesight is getting worse. His hands look like prunes and every single joint aches.

Phoenix sees his condition but has refrained from making any more comments. He must know though, how severely grotesque he feels, because he makes a point to be very physical with Miles. Touching him, kissing him, taking him to bed. It helps a little, but Miles dreads the day Phoenix manages to put two and two together. He only has a few more trips in him, Hades told him as much last week when Phoenix slipped in the bathtub and cracked his head open on the lip of it.

"This will keep happening," Hades had told him with a grim expression. "The more he escapes death the more death will cling to him."

Miles let out a tired laugh. "You knew this, didn't you? When you made the deal, you knew he would keep dying and I would keep bringing him back."

Hades did not look happy as he said, "I suspected. There are instances where death can be cheated. But yes, part of me knew." He slanted his eyes to look at his wife, who seemed engrossed in counting pomegranate seeds.

"You can stop, you know? You don't have to keep running yourself ragged bringing him back over and over. Just let him go."

Miles had shaken his head. "I can't do that."

And so, he had brought Phoenix back for a seventh time.

He stares at his reflection. He looks closer to sixty than forty at this point. Skin sagging and wrinkly, several strands of hair have gone white.

He sighs and takes off his glasses to wash his face.

No one else has dared to comment on his appearance. Mr Gavin keeps shooting him worried looks, Detective Gumshoe seems stumped every time they see each other and Ms Skye looks like she wants to disect him under a microscope.

He puts his glasses back on and heads to the bedroom.

And comes to an abrupt halt in the doorway.

Phoenix is on the bed, hands clasped in front of him. By his feet is...

"Why do you have this?" Phoenix asks in a tone that allows no room for argument.

Miles swallows, staring at the Hades statuette.

"This disappeared from the evidence locker after the case was solved. No one knew where it went. Why do you have this?"

The temperature in the room suddenly feels freezing, and Miles can't stop the shivers running through his body.

"It's—complicated," he whispers and Phoenix nods, eyes looking colder than Miles has ever seen.

"Let me present you with a theory," Phoenix says, standing up to pace around the room. "After I was shot and you found the statuette in the box of my belongings you asked me if something happened when I picked it up. At the time it confused me, but now I think I understand."

He stops pacing and looks at Miles.

"I died that day. When I was shot. And somehow you managed to summon goddamn Hades and you struck a deal with him."

Miles can't bear to meet his gaze, eyes glued resolutely on the floor. Phoenix walks up to him, putting a hand under his chin and forces him to meet his eyes.

"What was it? A life for a life? Cutting your lifespan in half?"

Miles feels weak, like he's gonna collapse and the only thing holding him upright is Phoenix's hand grabbing his chin.

"Wright—"

"What.Was.It?"

Miles swallows hard.

"It was only supposed to be a year," he finally whispers. "One year shaved off my life. But you—" A sharp, shaky intake of breath. The admission burns his throat, "—you kept dying. Over and over. And every time I brought you back I sped up the aging process, shaving off more and more years off my life."

Phoenix stares at him like he doesn't even know him. Maybe he doesn't...

"How on earth could you ever think that I would want you to do that to yourself?" He whispers, looking completely aghast. He has let go of Miles' chin and taken a step back.

Miles meets his gaze head on.

"I don't care what you want. I would gladly give up 10 years of my life if it meant saving yours."

That's the wrong thing to say.

Phoenix stumbles backwards, hand coming up to cover his mouth. He hears a choked out, "Christ, Miles", before Phoenix pushes past him and runs out of the house.

He hears the door slam shut and only then does he allow himself to sink to the floor, face in hands, and scream.

-

The eighth time is the worst one yet, because it is not an accident, and it is not a murder.

It's a suicide.

Miles goes three days without a word from Phoenix. He uses the time to come up with arguments to rationalize his decision, but they all sound undeniably insane, even to him.

Finally, he caves, and visits the WAA. Apollo has gone back to Khura'in, Trucy is touring the country and Athena is currently helping Simon Blackquill with a case, so he knows Phoenix will be alone in his office.

He knocks, but no one opens. He frowns and feels the door handle. It's unlocked.

He steps inside.

Phoenix is on the floor, an empty bottle of pills and a knocked over wine glass by his body.

Miles hurries over to feel for a pulse.

He's already cold.

Swearing, he wrestles the Hades figurine out of his bag and clutches it to his chest, eyes closed.

He opens them when he feels a light breeze on his face. He is in the underworld.

Miles has never run so fast in his life. He throws the coin at the ferryman and begs him to just go faster as he takes him across the river.

He runs along the cobblestone road, stumbles through the pitch black cave, scrapes his knees and forearm on the way.

Finally he is in Hades' throneroom. Aforementioned god sitting atop his throne. He holds up a hand before Miles can even speak.

"You're too late," he says, taking no joy in delivering that bit of news.

"No," Miles whispers. "No, please. Please, just one more time. One last—"

"There is nothing I can do."

Miles slams his fist into the stonewall next to him.

"You promised dammit!" He shouts, anger and desperation clouding his better judgement. "As many times as I want, you said!"

"You have nothing left to give!" Hades hisses and in an instant he is in front of Miles, slamming him against the wall.

Something cracks in Miles' fragile body and he lets out a grunt of pain.

Hades lets go of him immediately, sighing as he takes a step back.

"I'm sorry, Mr Edgeworth. He is gone."

At once all the fight leaves him and he crumples to the ground, exhausted.

"Why did you ever approach me?" He whispers brokenly. "What was the point. It wasn’t just the figurine. Other people held it before me and you didn't contact them. Why me?"

Hades regards him in silence for a while, then he lets out a defeated little sigh.

"I have a hard time ignoring people, when their hearts cry out as loudly as yours did."

Miles stares up at him. "What?"

"It was the statuette combined with the immense pain you were carrying. I couldn't turn away, not when you were hurting so much. I thought I could help. It seems I only made matters worse."

Miles wipes his cheeks and climbs to his feet.

"One last time," he bargains. "Phoenix walks out of here one last time, and I—I stay here. Forever. My soul is yours to keep, right now, if you just let Phoenix go."

Hades leans forward, so close their noses almost touch.

"Why?" He breathes. "Why do you persist?"

Miles can feel his bottom lip tremble. "Because I love him. And the alternative is to walk out of here without him and I'd rather die. I'd rather die than live a single day without him."

Hades leans back, an amused glint in his eyes.

"What do you say, love?" He calls over his shoulder and Miles startles as Persephone appears by his side.

She smiles. "I'd say they're both idiots."

-

To say Phoenix is horrified is an understatement. And yet he can't exactly blame Miles, because in all honesty he can't claim he would've acted differently had the roles been reversed.

But there is no way he can live like this, knowing he is the sole cause for Miles' current condition. There is only one way to fix this.

He waits. For Apollo, Trucy and Athena to leave, so that he is alone in the office. Then he breaks out the sleeping pills he was prescribed during his disbarment, when insomnia was kicking his ass on the reg. He crushes them up, pours himself a glass of wine, and dumps it in the glass.

Then he chugs it.

When he wakes next he is in the underworld, and suddenly, all the memories come flooding back. All the times Miles had come to get him, all the times Phoenix had followed him out of the underworld.

He had dismissed the few sparse memories he had as dreams. How could he have been so blind?
The journey is easy to make. All he has to do is think back on all the times Miles had led him out of there and reverse it. It goes a lot less smoothly without Miles' guidance but eventually he gets where he needs to be.

"Hades!" He calls, voice bouncing off the damp stone walls. "Hades!"

"Loud," someone behind him chastises and Phoenix whips around to come face to face with a woman. The first thing he notes is that she is tall when she's not sitting down. Standing up she towers over him with no footwear to boost her. The second thing he notes is that he knows her. He has seen her, sitting next to Hades in this very room.

She's Persephone, and she looks pissed.

Phoenix tries for a smile.

"I'm looking for Hades."

She hums. "So I heard. He's busy for the moment. You just sit tight and wait for your man, like always."

She delivers the last part with an eyeroll.

"That's the thing!" Phoenix hurriedly says. "I want to make a deal with him!"

Suddenly the scenery changes. They are outside, in a forest. It's still dreadfully dreary, most plants in different stages of decay.

Phoenix blinks but doesn't comment on it, just generally notes that this place sucks.

"A deal?" Persephone repeats. "Is it not enough that Miles is withering away for your sake?"

"But I don't want him to!" Phoenix exclaims desperately. "I want to undo all this. I want Hades to give him his life back!"

Persephone tips her head to the side and regards him thoughtfully.

"And what would you give in return? What would you be willing to sacrifice?"

"My life," Phoenix says, no hesitation. "I stay here and Miles gets back all the years he gave up saving me."

She frowns. "Don't you want to be with him?"

Phoenix chuckles humourlessly. "Of course I do. There is nothing I want more. But I was supposed to die. I can't keep living knowing I'm the reason Miles is running out of time faster than he should." He presses his hand over his heart.

"Being away from him will hurt, I know that. But being the direct cause of his death would hurt more. And Miles—he's wonderful, you know? He thinks he doesn't have a lot to offer but that is not true. I have never met a man more full of love than he. He would go to the ends of the world for anyone he cares about. As you've seen," he makes an awkward little gesture. "He has saved me a lot lately, and I didn't even know it. Now it's my turn to save him."

Persephone leans forward then, so close their noses almost touch.

"So you would give up your life for him?" She asks. "Why?"

Phoenix swallows. "Because I love him. And I'd rather die knowing he has his whole life ahead of him, than live knowing I caused him to die early."

Persephone leans back, and for the first time since he has seen her, she smiles at him.

-

"Miles?"

Phoenix appears from behind Persephone, and Miles doesn't care. About the fight, about the deal. He is just so happy to see Phoenix that he runs towards him, not fast mind you, and throws himself at him. Phoenix staggers a bit but remains steady, holding onto Miles tightly.

"Miles," Persephone says, and he turns to see her watching them with a fond smile. "I once asked you if you thought Phoenix would do the same for you, if your roles were reversed." Miles nods, remembering that. "I am sorry for doubting you."

Miles stares at her, then slowly turns to Phoenix.

"What did you do?" He whispers, a horrified look on his face.

Persephone laughs. "Don't be mad. He was just trying to save you." She sends him a wink. "I can see why you're so fond of him."

Miles blushes furiously and Persephone only giggles.

"You were both willing to give up your life for the other. So here's a deal I am willing to strike," Hades says.

"I will give back the years you lost saving Phoenix. And I will make sure death does not come for you again, until far in the future," he direct the second half of that statement to Phoenix, who blinks dumbly.

"In return, I will bind your souls together. You will be one. Meaning that when Miles dies, Phoenix dies, and when Phoenix dies Miles dies. For one of you that will mean a shortened lifespan, cause you were never actually meant to die at the same time. Is that acceptable?"

They look at each other, then turn to Hades.

"Obviously."

"Absolutely."

Hades smiles and holds out a hand for Miles to take. He does, and suddenly he can feel warmth flood his body. When he comes back to himself he notices that the aches in his body are no more, and his hands are less wrinkled. Phoenix cups his face and lets out a wet chuckle when Miles looks at him.

"There you are," he whispers and leans forward to kiss him. For once, Miles doesn't mind the PDA. He's just happy to finally recognize his own body again.

"You are free to go. When you return to the living world your souls will be bound." He turns to Phoenix. "Death should not be around every corner for you now, though I do suggest you live with a bit more care from now on. You're no longer putting just your own life at risk."

Phoenix nods, eyes shining with determination. "I will."

"Good. Now. For the last time; no looking back."

Miles rolls his eyes.

"Was that ever actually part of the deal?" Phoenix asks as he's dragged out of the underworld.

"No," Miles grunts. "The god of the underworld just seems to have a shitty sense of humor."

"Hey," Phoenix pulls Miles to a stop. "If you ever make a deal with a god behind my back again I will feed you to Cerberus. Got it?"

Miles looks away. "I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking clearly. You had just died, and there he was, offering to bring you back and I just—" he sighs and drags a hand over his face. "I'm sorry."

"Well, at least it worked out." Phoenix says with a shrug. "We'll talk more when we're out of here."

Miles nods. "Yeah."

Phoenix drags him along. "Let's go."

Hand in hand, side by side. Neither one of them Orpheus or Eurydice, as both of them make it out of the underworld for the last time, together with their loved one.