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Blood dripped from Terry Fawles’ mouth, he made a horrible choking noise as more was coughed on the stand.
“N-No! Stop the trial! Your Honor! We need a recess!” Edgeworth demanded. He hasn’t gotten to the verdict yet.
“I... I was stupid... Couldn't... keep…” Fawles inhaled between laboured breath, one could hear the gurgle of blood in his voice, “promise... So I did it... I... drank... this…”
“No! We are so close! Just a little more... I was going to prove your innocence!” Mia pleaded.
The commotion in the gallery arose, voices shouting for the stop to the trial, others for a potential doctor among the room. Manfred stood as the man in front of him stood, blocking his vision.
“No... Don't want that... Don't... trust... self... Maybe kill again... Kill sweet Dahlia... again…” Fawles nearly toppled over, gripping the stand to keep balance.
“Mr. Fawles!” Mia screamed out.
“Mr. Ar... Armando... Th-Thanks... For the... coffee…”
“MR. FAAAAAAAAWLES!!!!”
Terry Fawles fell limp against the stand, eyes drooping closed. The bailiff tried to shake Mr.Fawles awake for the body to fall off onto the ground with a sickening thud.
Miles couldn’t look away from the scene before him, backing himself into the wall behind him. He held a hand over his mouth, frozen in horror. Manfred made his way down from the gallery, his student not making note of his presence, his eyes fixed on the scene.
“Edgeworth!” Manfred snapped his fingers in front of Miles’ face to get his attention.
“H- he’s dead. He’s dead. He’s really dead,” Miles gasped.
“You don’t know that yet,” Manfred reasoned. “Calm yourself down.”
“What do we do now? The trial. What happens to the trial?” He looked towards his mentor for reassurance.
His student should know what happens to the trial, if not, then what he spent on such an expensive education would go to waste. Clearly he was far too emotionally compromised to communicate with.
“Look the other way,” he ordered. Miles obediently complied, staring at the ground as he drew shallow breaths through his nose. Manfred grabbed his student around the arm and dragged him forward. Miles stumbles the first few steps before keeping pace.
The sounds of a growing crowd around the defendant grew closer, the commotion around an officer pushing down on Terry’s chest. There was blood smeared around the sides of his lips and the unmistakable empty stare of a corpse. “Tch.” How disgusting. His student’s head moved slightly towards the noise, instinctively but not fully.
“Don’t look.” He jerked Edgeworth forward, culling his urge to slow down and observe, increasing his pace to pass quickly. Miles shut his eyes, trusting his mentor to lead the way.
Manfred took him past the door and into the empty witness’s lobby. He let go of his arm, which prompted Miles to look up and around at his surroundings. His mentor drew a cup of water from the water cooler and handed the paper cup to him.
“Drink,” he ordered.
Miles took a deep breath before gulping down the contents of the cup. He was breathing slower now, more in control. “He’s dead, I watched him die… Oh god.”
“Edgeworth.”
“He admitted to drinking a vial of poison to- to-” Miles stared at the bottom of the paper cup.
“You don’t know if he is dead. Now. Recount the events to me, don’t make assumptions.”
“Terry Fawles was giving testimony…” Edgeworth paused to swallow.
“Carry on.”
“He started coughing up blood… Confessed to drinking a vial… then collapsed.”
“What evidence do you have that he had indeed passed away?”
“None, none yet to confirm or deny my suspicions.”
“Hmpth.”
Miles flinched to the noise he made, Manfred expected better but he didn't need to say that.
“Sir. He still- he still made the attempt in front of the whole court… in front of me…” Miles’ voice broke the silence that Manfred would have preferred to stay. “Even if Fawles were to recover the case is forever tainted. Everyone in that courtroom is compromised…” He gasped, realizing what he gave away. Everyone, including him.
He felt his mentor’s hand around his arm and prepared for the worst, to be pulled into a-
a hug?
He left his arms dangling and confused. Manfred's cane clattered against the floor. He relaxed, leaning his head on Manfred’s shoulder, the man who raised him, fed him and clothed him. The securing feeling of his mentor’s arms around him gave him an overwhelming sense of relief.
“Defendants will do anything to escape their fate. The criminals will lie, cheat, hurt themselves and others, when the law revokes their privilege to be protected, these things happen. I have seen severe mental breaks of the guilty a hundred times, I will see it a hundred times more. It may even be necessary to push those to the brink of their own sanity to achieve justice, your words have the power to force those to admit their guilt. Remember, this is the path you chose to follow, you must turn a blind eye to their suffering. You must become numb in order to perform your duty as a prosecutor. Show me you are above the emotions of the common man. Every outburst is an admission of guilt.”
Manfred let Miles go, holding on to one of his shoulders to look him in the eyes, Edgeworth returned the favour, something he taught him to do. He was still wide-eyed and young, the baby fat in his cheeks had not yet receded.
“I had not pushed him,” He reasoned with the new lesson. “The defendant’s reactions are not my responsibility. Terry Fawles’ mental break was inevitable.”
“That is not what I said. If you had done a better job the defendant wouldn’t have chosen death.”
The words sank into him like a lead pipe in the ocean and was to remain there for the rest of his life. It was his first trial, the weight in his chest would only grow.
He was to understand the gravity of the law. The heavy chains that kept society civilized, tamed and behaved. Everyone was a monster given the right opportunity. Even Manfred.
“You were lucky, since the trial ended the way that it did it prevented any further loss of control. A Von Karma receives a second chance once in a lifetime. This is yours. Don't disappoint me again.” Von Karma knew of that second chance very well, he was standing in front of him.
“... Understood,” his student hung his head, hiding the look in his eyes.
“Understood what.” Manfred said, punctuating the T.
“Understood sir.”
Getting Edgeworth to finally understand where his place was gave him a sense of satisfaction. His student stood still, awaiting his direction, still enough to watch the rise and fall of his breathing. A sufficient display of submission.
Miles sobbed, just loud enough to tell he was trying to suppress it.
Manfred sighed, it was expected that his words would result in a reaction like this. It was his responsibility. He took out his handkerchief, folded it into a square and approached to hold his face. Miles flinched for a second before allowing his mentor to cradle his face, wipe away his tears with undue care. He dried his face slowly, looking him over to see if he had missed a spot.
“A Von Karma must always be presentable to the public,” he stated, handing Edgeworth the handkerchief. He held the cloth like a lifeline.
Manfred headed out of the Witness’s lobby, Edgeworth in tow.