Chapter Text
Phoenix Wright was no stranger to losing. He’d lost every game of Tetris Trucy had challenged him to, simply could not pick a winning horse to save his life, had dropped more things down the back of his couch than he actively owned at any one time, had once forgotten where he parked his bike for three days and just ran everywhere because he was too embarrassed to ask Edgeworth for a lift, and, of course, he’d lost his badge. In fact, he’d lost his badge that very morning. He did find it a few minutes later, somehow caught up in one of Trucy’s capes, but it still rattled him regardless. Being without it made him feel strangely exposed, almost naked. Athena said it was an understandable reaction after being unfairly disbarred for seven years, but he still hated it. He was a lawyer, an excellent attorney, and he’d proved himself to be so time and time again. Whether he wore a badge or not wouldn’t change that in the slightest. But maybe it did have some effect, or at least was an ominous omen, for the fact still remained, that day, Phoenix Wright lost not only his badge, but also his case in court.
There was no hidden secrets in this trial, no sneaky false verdict to overcome or any assassin blackmailing everybody involved. Phoenix’s client was simply guilty. It wasn’t as if he was representing some horrid murderer because he needed the cash, and Larry hadn’t finally made the kind of mistake that’d land him in the electric chair. Rather, his client had been arrested for premediated murder – which she clearly hadn’t committed – and in the course of the investigation, Phoenix discovered that instead she’d killed the victim in a case of mistaken self-defence. She certainly hadn’t meant to murder her elderly neighbour, but when he stumbled into her house through the window with a drunken yell at four in the morning, she’d leapt to defend herself. Perhaps a little too eagerly. Even the judge – more absent minded than usual that day as he’d just come back from a holiday which he would not stop talking about – knew this wasn’t grounds for the death penalty. All the same, Miss Dee Fendor now had a criminal record, and was now on her way to jail.
“Cheer up, Nick!” said Maya, as they made their way out of the courtroom. “At least you proved she didn’t mean to kill the old codger. Things could’ve turned out a lot worse than they did.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” said Phoenix, but his voice was far from cheery. “We found the truth, and that’s the important thing.”
He must have sounded even worse than he’d thought, as Maya only replied with a gentle pat to his shoulder.
“Well, I’m still proud of you,” she said with a kind smile. “But I can tell you’re not really in the mood for celebrating, so I won’t force you to take me out to lunch.”
Phoenix was struck with the impulse to mask his unhappiness by cracking a joke at how much she’d matured – and how long it had taken – but stopped himself. She was probably more aware of it than anyone else could ever be, and he knew from experience that it hadn’t exactly been a smooth ride to adulthood for her.
“It’s tradition, though,” he said with a shrug. “And you’re only in town for a few more days. I don’t want your only time in LA to be spent working on a case.”
Maya laughed him off. “Oh come on, I do have a life outside of you, Nick.”
“Let me guess,” said Phoenix with a fake air of pondering. “Could it be that Franziska von Karma is in town?”
At this Maya shot him what was probably supposed to be a wink, with both her eyes scrunched closed by her grin.
“Well, by all means, don’t let dopey old me get in your way,” he said. “But really… Thanks. I’ll be okay.”
“You did good today, Nick,” she said, as she headed towards the bus stop. “I mean it.”
Nonetheless, Phoenix’s mood did nothing to improve on his ride home. He couldn’t stop thinking about everything he could have done differently, everything that might have escaped his notice. Maybe Dee really was innocent, and she was only accepting the manslaughter verdict because she didn’t want to drag the victim’s widow through even more courtroom palaver. Maybe there was something more sinister going on beneath the surface of this case, a reason besides the overconsumption of alcohol as to why the victim had broken into Dee’s house. Had he been up to something? Had she been up to something? Was it really time to close the case? They could be missing something huge! Was a case ever really over before he got his not-guilty confetti?
“Wright.”
Miles Edgeworth was sitting at his kitchen table, watching Phoenix wheel his bike into the apartment.
“You look quite concerned.”
Phoenix replied with a quiet, humourless laugh and took a seat next to Miles without even removing his jacket. He actually missed Miles’ chiding, calling him an ill-disciplined schoolboy for shucking all his layers and rolling up his shirtsleeves the second he got in the door. The scolding, at least, was preferable to this strange silence that had cropped up between them instead.
“Something’s wrong.” It wasn’t a question. Of course it wasn’t a question, this was Miles Edgeworth speaking. He was sitting with his chin resting on interlaced hands, staring at Phoenix the way he started at well-organised piles of evidence, as if he was trying to unlock a safe with his eyes alone.
“I lost,” said Phoenix.
“You what?”
There was a time where seeing Edgeworth acting in any way contrary to the calm, pillar of ice persona he had cultivated would be enough to make Phoenix laugh, but those days were long gone. Now it was just relieving to see Edgeworth go through a full spectrum of emotions, even when it was his fault. Actually, it somehow felt better when it was his fault.
“What do you mean, you lost?”
But, no matter how interesting it was to watch emotions play across Edgeworth’s face, the subject at hand was still far from enjoyable.
“I mean, my client was guilty,” said Phoenix. “She committed the murder. So, the prosecution was in the right, and I lost the trial.”
“Oh.”
Phoenix had to admit, of all of Miles’ expressions, dumbfounded was the one he liked the least. At least when his partner was furious, or distraught, or annoyed, he could be glad that Miles wasn’t repressing anything anymore, and he could probably step in to fix the problem himself, anyway. But when he was confused, at a loss for what to do next, well, it just made Phoenix nervous. As much as he liked to believe that he’d done a lot to help Edgeworth, the fact remained that more often than not, it was Phoenix who looked to Miles for guidance on practically everything. Besides, Miles hated being confused as much as Phoenix did.
“I suppose your incredible luck in picking clients must have come to an end at some point,” said Miles. “It would be ridiculous to imagine you could go on forever only representing the truly innocent.”
“I know,” said Phoenix. “But, it’s just… I always imagined it would be some grand affair, like the Matt Engarde case or something. Where I’d be manipulated by a full-on serial killer who would then threaten to murder me or something. I didn’t imagine it would be some poor local nurse who didn’t know her own strength.”
“Well, if it was an accident it hardly counts as a full guilty verdict,” said Edgeworth, clearly relieved. “Don’t act as if a manslaughter case will instantly turn you into some Robert Hammond-style bottom-feeder-”
“But she murdered him,” said Phoenix. “And she knew she did. And she still asked me to defend her, did her best to convince everyone that she didn’t touch him…” Phoenix sat very still, his eyes staring at some indeterminate point in the air in front of him. “I shook her hand, too. The hand she used to punch a man’s nose into his brain. I saw the x-rays. Poor guy was 76 years old. Had a bit of a drinking problem, but was never a menace or anything. And Dee, my client… by all accounts she was just a young girl, still a bit skittish about living on her own and terrified at the thought of jail. They were just so...”
“Normal?” offered Miles.
“Yeah,” said Phoenix, who then sighed. “Yeah. Who’d have thought defending an orca would be less taxing than working on the kind of case you probably see every day?”
The two were silent for a moment, Edgeworth’s hand coming to rest on Phoenix’s clenched fist. He hadn’t even realised he’d been tensing that much. Miles must be rubbing off on him.
“I’d like to say it gets easier, but…” Miles just shook his head. “That’s not what I want for you. I don’t want you to get used to this.”
Phoenix broke his stare to look at his partner – boyfriend, to use the term that made Miles squirm – to see him staring into the plastic surface of the table with yet another of his scrutineering gazes.
“Was that what it was like for you?” asked Phoenix, his voice dropping to a whisper without his intent. “Back when you were working under…”
Miles nodded. “It was really all I could do. Look at the cases like a puzzle, a collection of numbers and words that I could slot together to get the verdict I wanted. I didn’t let myself remember their faces. I didn’t want to see the lives I was ruining. And I don’t want…” Miles paused, and Phoenix realised quite abruptly that his partner was shaking. “I’m not going to let that happen to you.”
Phoenix let his hand relax into Miles’ touch, folding their fingers together and leaning forward to give Edgeworth the gentlest of kisses on his temple. The soft brush of grey hair against his nose, the way Miles practically clung to his hand – it was enough to send the hollow pit in his stomach digging ever deeper to fill his whole body with melancholy.
“Thank you,” said Phoenix.
“But,” said Miles. “I don’t think you’d ever have to worry about that. Your damn bleeding heart wouldn’t go down with a fight. That’s plain enough from how you’re reacting today.”
“I guess…” said Phoenix. “But, honestly? A lot of it isn’t even sympathy anymore – at least not with this case. I’m just so worried, so afraid that I missed something. I suppose that’s just selfishness or whatever. So desperate to win every case I read more into the situation than exists…”
“That’s not a flaw,” said Miles almost immediately. “If it weren’t for you and your determination to dig into every nook and cranny of every single case you take, well… I wouldn’t be here today.”
“Miles…”
Phoenix couldn’t help himself, he just had to pull Edgeworth onto his lap. He knew his partner only liked that when he was in very specific moods, knew that it more often than not annoyed him to feel so small and be in such a juvenile position, but it was just so soothing to Phoenix. That warm, heavy weight atop him, keeping him anchored and focused on what was most important; the way he could feel every inch of Miles’ body at once, run his hands over joints that had once been bony but had now grown softer, fleshier with age and rehabilitation… It was enough to calm him every time. Edgeworth seemed to realise just how much he needed it, too, as he came to nestle into Phoenix’s lap without hesitation.
“You’re too good to me,” murmured Phoenix, kissing his partner’s jawline.
“I am entirely reasonable in my treatment of you,” replied Miles, before attempting to tuck away that one sprig of hair that kept falling in Phoenix’s forehead. “But if you’re still concerned about this, I could take you to the crime scene again, let you do some more investigating. Or I could ask the officer in charge to provide you with more information, or-”
“Thanks,” said Phoenix. “But… the crime scene was that poor girl’s house. There’s no way I’m going to go snoop around her home while she’s serving time for a crime I failed to acquit her of. And I don’t really want to bother the police, either. They’ve probably got better things to do.” Wright sighed, and pressed his face close against Miles’ neck. “I suppose I just have to get over this. Work on becoming a gracious loser.”
“This isn’t giving up,” said Miles. “This is about the one thing we are always searching for, the most important aspect of our professions.”
“The truth,” muttered Phoenix.
“Precisely,” replied Miles. “And if you and the prosecution worked together and examined the evidence and testimonies as best as you could, and came to the conclusion that Miss Fendor killed that man in self-defence, well, then that’s the truth.”
“I have to admit,” said Phoenix, “it was very obvious very quickly that she was the culprit. She even broke her hand with the force of the punch.”
“Well, there you have it,” said Miles. “You did the only thing you needed to. You found the truth, and ensured that justice was accurately carried out. In that way, at least, you did indeed win.”
“Yeah,” muttered Phoenix. He wished he didn’t sound so despondent, and wasn’t so clingy. His partner probably had mountains of work to get through, and here he was, demanding cuddles like a petulant child.
“I know it feels bad, trust me I do,” said Miles, and Phoenix instantly felt even guiltier. “But you are a good man, Phoenix Wright, and you have done just as well today as you have in all of your other cases.”
“Thank you,” said Phoenix, relaxing into the strokes Miles was running up and down his back.
Then, out of nowhere, he gave a burst of a wet laugh.
“What is it?” asked Miles, pulling back to scrutinise Phoenix’s face again.
“Oh, it’s just that I realised the last thing that was bothering me about this case,” said Phoenix. “I run on a no-win, no-fee policy.”
“Wh- Wright!” Edgeworth cried. “I thought I told you to change that! You specifically promised me you’d start taking the financial status of your business more seriously now that you have a daughter!”
“Aw, but it’s just so mean,” said Phoenix. “I already sent her to jail, I don’t want to send her a giant bill, too.
“You have rent, Phoenix!”
“I also have a rich boyfriend,” said Wright with a wriggle of his eyebrows.
At this Miles, squawked and leapt off Phoenix’s lap.
“I told you not to call me that,” he muttered. “We aren’t twelve anymore. And since we are no longer twelve, you can pay your own rent!”
“Where are you going?” asked Phoenix through a laugh as his partner stomped off towards Phoenix’s battered old laptop.
“To update your website!” replied Edgeworth. “I told you – a guilty verdict is just as worthy as an innocent one, as long as it reflects the inalienable truth of the situation! So, if you won’t ensure that you get paid either way, I will!”
Phoenix could only shake his head and smile as Miles Edgeworth pulled up the Wright Anything Agency’s website and pretended to understand Java as he fiddled with the wording on the policy page. At least, Phoenix thought as he realised his melancholy had all but dried up, Miles was still good at comforting his partner after a loss. Plus, regardless of Edgeworth’s kindness, the promise of a paycheque would make his next guilty verdict a touch more bearable. Maybe he’d let those changes to the policy stay… Well, after he had Trucy check the coding, of course.