Work Text:
One of Simon’s favorite memories was the Christmas of 2019 at the Cosmos Space Center. It was a small affair, like always, with the only attendees being Simon, his sister, his mentor, the leader of the station, and his mentor’s daughter, Athena. He was used to looking after the girl, because of how busy her mother was, and had honestly come to see himself as an uncle to her, even though they weren’t related. It was a point of pride to him to be able to know all of her favorite things, and a privilege to see her come out of her shell as much as she did around him.
That Christmas, Simon had managed to find a recording of the Ship Shape Aquarium show, inexplicably one of her favorite things in the universe, that the girl had not seen yet. He had to dredge through obscure English forums online, just to find one recording from when they were touring certain parts of the world, and had to pay a hefty fee out of pocket for it as well. A part of him questioned if it was even worth it.
But when he saw how her eyes lit up as she tore open her present, gasping with excitement as soon as she read the title on the VHS, any doubt remaining in him was crushed. Anything and everything would be worth it if it made Athena so happy.
She asked if he would watch it with her, and of course, he said yes.
It was only a year later that Metis Cykes was killed and Simon was arrested.
…………………………………
Outside of that, Simon didn’t have a particular affinity towards Christmas.
As he sneered at the cheesy posters and holiday lights littering the Prosecutor’s Office, he couldn’t help but think that he resented it. Simon hated parties, in general, but even more so those that were made up of dozens of acquaintances with little common interest outside of their profession. The people he knew best were Edgeworth-sama, his mentor as a prosecutor, and Gavin-dono, who he’d recently acted as a therapist for. That was it.
To make matters worse (much, much worse), Christmas parties were often filled with a sickening, lovey dovey air that infected anything and everything in its vicinity, similar to a Hallmark movie. Apart from Simon, the prosecutor’s party was unfortunately no exception, with every member either married, going steady with someone, or desperately wishing they were, and none of them could shut up about it.
When he was young, still studying under Edgeworth to become a prosecutor, Simon forced himself to attend for the sake of politeness. After 7 years of prison, he no longer cared, and found it funny he ever did. Now, he was blatantly clear about his hatred of such festivities, even in front of his mentor.
So, why was he attending this year?
“Edgeworth-sama, you say they will arrive soon?”
“Yes, Blackquill. Wright messaged me that his office would be arriving within in the next 15 minutes.”
Perfect. Just a quarter of an hour until he could execute his plan, go home, and sleep.
Simon had spent the last 30 minutes awkwardly standing by Edgeworth’s desk, shivering slightly in his hanten, formulating a masterful ploy for when Athena entered, all the while deliberately avoiding everyone else. The party wasn’t…as bad as it could be yet. It was only a handful of the prosecutors (minus the insufferable Paynes, who always skipped out) for now, as the officers only came in when the free food did. Ms. Faraday was leaning against what would be the snack table as she attempted to flirt with Detective Skye using the worst of puns, and Prosecutor Gavin was in the process of hanging a dangerous amount of mistletoe on the ceiling.
Simon suppressed a shudder.
Edgeworth was typing away at his computer, working despite the holiday. He was wearing a red sweater with the words ‘Papa’ knitted across it in blue yarn. “Has your first Christmas as a freed man been pleasant?”
Simon shrugged. “Eh. It’s preferable to freezing in a cell.”
“...If I may remind you, attendance for this event is voluntary. You may leave whenever you wish.” He smiled slightly. “I would rather you spend your first free holiday doing something you enjoy, over suffering this event out of politeness.”
Simon grinned. “Ah, you’ve picked up on my disdain for merriment, Edgeworth-sama?”
“You haven’t exactly been subtle, Blackquill.”
If Edgeworth noticed it with nothing but social cues to aid him, it had to be the definition of obvious. Regardless, he’d not been aiming for subtlety, as he rarely did. “I appreciate the concern, but I have a mission. I must wait here until Cykes-dono arrives, so we may celebrate together.”
“Could you not just send her an email? Or a text? Electronic communication seems more convenient than relying on Wright’s information.”
Simon shook his head. “I’d rather hang from the gallows than utilize the electronic distraction machine in my pocket. They’re manufactured to be as addicting as possible, people cannot be alone with their thoughts anymore…” He stopped himself before he launched into his ‘all technology is terrible and carrier pigeons are the supreme method of communication’ rant again. “Besides, I would prefer to meet her in a group setting such as this. I believe it would make her more comfortable.”
Edgeworth eyed Simon from behind his computer, intending to ask about his meaning. Before he could do that, however, a loud and jolly green detective swung open the door to the office.
“Merry Christmas, Pal!” Gumshoe boomed, “Oh, and happy holidays to all who celebrate. I think that’s what you say, right?” He shuffled into the room, carrying a huge plastic tub of homemade cookies. He was followed by his girlfriend, Maggey Byrde, who was carrying paper plates. They were both wearing matching tattered coats.
Kay hopped off of the table as the good detective plopped the cookie box down onto it. He tore the red plastic lid off and flipped it over, making it into a makeshift tray. He and Maggey crowded around the tub, pulling cookies out and placing them face-up on the tray, clumsily dropping a few on the floor while they were at it.
Simon strolled over to the snack table and glanced at the cookies. They were terrible, as everyone knew they would be.
Maggey and Gumshoe made gingerbread men, often with melted together heads and sobbing frosted eyes, every year. There was an enormous amount of Christmas spirit between the two of them, and they had to channel it somehow, and amateur baking was the most cost-effective way for them to do it. However, because Maggey and Gumshoe could barely boil ramen without burning themselves, the cookies were of the lowest quality imaginable. No one ever told them to stop, either because they didn’t have the heart to or because they would wreck any other party task about as much.
Just when he finished emptying two thirds of the tub, Gumshoe’s left foot bumped into the table leg and he tripped, falling backwards and nearly crashing into the cookies. They nearly met a fate as ugly as their appearance, but luckily for them, Maggey caught her partner just in time and held him up from the other side of the table. “Gotcha, honey!” With a bit of effort, she heaved and pushed him back to his feet. She was strong for someone so short.
Gumshoe sheepishly smiled. “Aw, Maggey. What would I do without you?”
Simon vaguely recalled that they had a relationship before he was arrested. He thought they were just rumors, but apparently, they’d been dating the whole time he was in jail. Nearly 8 years together, 6 years living together, and sappily in love with each other all the while. Now, he heard credible rumors that they were seriously talking about getting married after all this time.
They were just dating before, but now they were talking about marriage.
He found them nauseating.
Simon just tried to focus on the cookies.
This year, half the batch seemed…edible, but a third of the dough men were charred to a crisp and at least one of them was certainly raw. They were all slathered in a grotesque amount of white icing, not even considering the crumbly decorations they’d added on top of that. Most details reeked of food coloring, but even the plain decoration covered so much of the cookie that it was near impossible to tell which ones were properly baked. Biting into any was akin to a cookie version of russian roulette, where the punishment was food poisoning.
In other words, they would be perfect for Athena.
“Oh, do you want one, Prosecutor Blackquill?” Gumshoe chuckled. “You can take as much as you want.”
“You’ve outdone yourself, Detective Dick. You and the little magpie have surely broken at least 7 health code violations this year. Congratulations on the new record.”
“Yeah…” Maggey admitted, dejected. “That’s my fault. I was just trying to help, but…I’m a fire hazard in the kitchen, you know. And out of the kitchen.”
Gumshoe put a gentle hand on her shoulder. “It’s ok, sweetie! I’m happy you baked them with me. They might be a little bad, sure, but they were still made with a lot of love.” Gumshoe sent her a beaming smile, and Maggey couldn’t help but smile back. She looked like she wanted to melt into his arms, and Gumshoe certainly didn’t mind.
“Bah,” Simon chuckled, like the villain in a children’s movie, “Your love means little in the face of edibility.” He turned over a few cookies at a time, glaring closely at the backs of them to make a better judgement of the worst of the batch. One particular cookie, a gingerbread man with 2 heads and 3 eyes between them, had a backside so light it matched the color of dough. He glanced to the side, spotted Detective Skye having a very lax conversation with Ms. Faraday, and pulled on the scientist’s white lab coat (which she insisted she wear despite the weather).
He flipped the cookie between his fingers a few times. “Skye, you play with bunsen burners all day, yes? Can you scientifically prove this is raw?”
“Are you kidding? It’s literally beige.” Ema’s eyes narrowed, scrutinizing. “...Yeah, it definitely hasn’t had a maillard reaction. The sugar would’ve browned if it did. And it hasn’t caramelized at all either. Geez, did they make this in a microwave?”
He smirked. “Excellent.” He grabbed a paper plate off the table and plopped the cookie onto it, already picturing Athena’s reaction. If she got so mad she chased him into the parking lot, then Simon could just give her the present there, and he wouldn’t need to hull the model ship up the stairs. That prop replica of the pirate ship in the Ship Shape Aquarium felt like it weighed two tons.
Kay coughed under her scarf, giving Simon a sort of ‘C’mon, man’ look. He just rolled his eyes in response. He clearly wasn’t trying to cockblock her, and what she was doing barely counted as flirting anyways. She was just making stupid puns and using pick-up lines so cheesy they boarded on endearing. Ema must have found them so, considering she hadn’t left their spot near the table or even tried to for the last half hour, but still, they were barely flirting.
This was the annoying sort of flirting that adults engaged with so often, where they danced around admitting their own feelings as much as they could. But, he supposed they were adults now.
He couldn’t believe it when he spotted them around the office for the first time.
They were supposed to be teenagers. Kay was supposed to be scaling filing cabinets at Edgeworth’s annoyance and Ema was supposed to be following him around like he was a celebrity.
Now, Kay was a laid back woman who’d been an assistant for 7 years, using stupid puns to flirt with Ema, a tired police officer who didn’t care too much about her advances. They had jobs. They had relationships.
It just felt wrong.
“Where’d you say you were from, Ema? Tennessee? Cuz you’re the only 10 I see~”
“Bloody hell, spare me.” Simon quickly moved away from the table, all the way to the other side of the room, just to get away from them.
As it so happens, Klavier was on that side of the room, clad in a poofy violet jacket and shorts (it’d been snowing outside all day), and still setting up mistletoe. He just finished hanging a bundle of it from the wall in the corner when Simon bumped into him. He’d already littered the ceiling with it, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out why.
Klavier had probably changed the most out of anyone. 7 years ago, he was an egotistical little brat of a child star, but now he was…nice. An adult who was actually enjoyable to be around. But even more than that, and even more unexpectedly, he’d grown emotionally. A few weeks after Simon was freed, Klavier actually approached him and asked if he could talk about something. It was his brother’s birthday just a few days prior, and Klavier was struggling to keep from contacting him, but instead of wallowing about it by himself, he actually opened up to someone. This started a pattern, every few weeks or so, where Klavier would come to Simon’s office and talk about something going on in his life. It wasn’t therapy, technically, but it was the best Klavier could do for himself; opening up to a “friend” (as Klavier had called him).
He never would’ve done that before, and Simon knew it.
So much change in what felt like so little time.
…Admittedly, Simon was proud of him. Klavier wasn’t perfect yet, though, and still had a habit of putting on a smile rather than showing what he actually felt more often than not. Considering how obvious it was what Klavier was feeling, this conversation would be a test of that habit.
Klavier finally noticed Simon, and how he’d kept a considerable distance from all the mistletoe, and laughed. “You do not want to be near me, Herr Samurai? Ah, don’t worry. I know you don’t swing that way. You don’t swing at all.”
“Golden boy, you’ve ruined the ceiling. I can barely walk anywhere without fear of an unwanted embrace.”
Klavier leaned against the bookcase while dramatically waving a hand in the air. “You’ve no reason to fear. It’s just for the Christmas spirit.”
“Bah,” Simon grunted, “as if. You and I both know it’s not just for that.” Klavier averted his gaze, so the samurai chose a more direct attack. “You can just ask Justice-dono to kiss you. You’re probably the prettiest man he’s ever talked to.”
Klav started running his hand through his hair.
“Don’t be daft. You only started obsessing over the holly plants when Edgeworth-sama informed us their office would be coming.” He tapped his forehead while grinning. “Your intentions are as clear as glass, Gavin-dono, and I see right through your attempts to obscure them.”
Klavier brought a hand to his forehead like a Victorian woman with tuberculosis. “Must you torment me this way? What have I done to deserve this?” He smiled. “And besides, you are excited to see the office, too, ja? You hate parties, Herr Samurai. Why else would you be here?”
Simon shrugged. “Astute observation, but I wasn’t hiding it.”
The rockstar casually slid his hands into his short pockets. “You want to see Frau Doktor, ja? Enough to wait through a terrible party?”
Klavier was obviously trying to get them off topic. But perhaps if Simon opened up about something more serious, it would help the rockstar let his guard down.
“Correct. I’m here to see her. It is my first Christmas as a freed man, and I can think of no better way to spend it. But as I cannot afford to be careless with such an occasion, I’ve concocted a plan.” He shook the plate to call attention to it. “Cykes-dono will eat this terrible confection and spit it out as I dramatically cackle. Then, knowing I am responsible, she will be upset, before I offer her a present, as a sign of peace and goodwill. But really, the present was my goal all along.”
Klavier cocked his head slightly. “Why not just give her the present?”
Simon looked to the ground. “A lot has changed, most of all between us. I am not the man I once was, and I’m sure I don’t mean the same to her, and though I despise that, I’d despise myself even more if I made her uncomfortable. I won’t just spring a gift on her after all these years. I think it’d be better to play the part of the twisted samurai first.”
He hadn’t been her uncle in 7 years.
He’d have to be a careless fool to expect her to still see him that way.
Even if it hurt to know that.
Klavier stared at him.
“...My point being, Gavin-dono, that it is not hard to be vulnerable. If I can admit that to you, then surely you can tell the little man you like him.”
“...Ach. It’s not the same feeling. And you are stronger than me.” He laughed, realizing how weak that lie sounded. “I’ll just…try to kiss him tonight, if he is comfortable.”
“Gavin-dono, your discomfort with any form of weakness is the single greatest act of self-sabotage I believe I have ever seen. Just talk to him.”
Before Klavier had a chance to respond, the door burst open, with the bleating of Christmas carols being audible even before the WAA gang entered. Trucy, the one responsible for the door, ran in with Pearl and Phoenix in tow, all dressed in an assortment of colorful mittens, scarves and pom beanies. Edgeworth perked up from behind his desk when he saw them.
Apollo, in a cozy red sweater, came in with a box of store-bought cookies. He glanced up at the ceiling and stopped in his tracks, staring in bafflement. Klavier smiled, shooting finger guns at Simon (that was how he said goodbye) while heading in his direction.
Simon waited for his person.
Kay grabbed a cookie off the table and chomped into it, even though it tasted like garbage. Ema laughed.
Trucy playfully badgered Edgeworth (Papa, she called him) about what he got her for Christmas this year. And of course, he must’ve gotten Pearl something, too.
For 10 minutes, Simon waited patiently for his person.
20 minutes went by as he stood by himself in the corner. Klavier had Apollo in his arms, whispering something close to him. Maggey played sappy Christmas music on her phone, and Gumshoe started to poorly dance with her. Kay eventually got to kiss Ema on the cheek.
Simon couldn’t handle it anymore.
He stormed over to the unfortunate pair closest to him, Apollo and Klavier. Klavier didn’t take his advice earlier (of course he didn’t), so they were only talking, despite how close their faces were.
“It’s just a decoration, Herr Forehead. You do not have to kiss me.”
“But, it’s, uh…you know, it’s Christmas. And there’s mistletoe, so…” A blush was just barely visible on Klav’s face. Apollo leaned in closer, mumbling, “Don’t tell Trucy, ok…?”
Simon tapped on Apollo’s shoulder.
Apollo absentmindedly turned around. “Yeah?”
“Where is Cykes-dono!?”
“AUGH!!!”
Apollo jumped back into Klavier’s arms, red with embarrassment, and Klavier forced himself to laugh while gritting his teeth. Simon calmed himself slightly, and barely held himself back from bellowing, “It’s been a bloody half hour! Where is Cykes-dono!?”
“H-How should I know!? She didn’t come this year!”
“Where is she, then!?”
“Uh…” Apollo rubbed his forehead, uncomfortable. “...I think she said she was watching…um, the Muppets? The Muppets Christmas thing. She’s watching it with Junie this year, so she couldn’t come.”
Junie.
Athena was with someone.
“...Edgeworth-sama informed me she would attend.”
“H-He was, uh, wrong, then, I guess. Maybe Mr. Wright forgot to email him. Sorry?” His words were so half-hearted, as though he couldn’t tell why the prosecutor cared so much in the first place.
Simon began to stare off into space.
Klavier with Apollo.
Gumshoe with Maggey.
Kay with Ema.
Athena with someone.
Simon alone.
Klavier loudly coughed. Apollo just looked at him. They were clear enough. After a moment, Simon stomped out of the room, and slammed the door shut.
…………………………………
Simon sat in the parking lot near his car, slumped next to a lamp post, staring into the snow at his feet. He didn’t think to get in his own car and drive to his apartment. Maybe he was too used to the cold, after so long in prison.
He was angry at himself, for a lot of things, mostly that he hoped so much that Athena would come. Why did he build so much hope around one person, when he knew that was unhealthy? Damn it, why did he have to think that Athena would come? Why did the thought that she had someone never once cross his mind?
Damn it, she wasn’t 8 anymore, of course she had someone. She wasn’t his little niece, she wasn’t the little girl he had to protect, she was a grown woman, of course she had someone. He wasn’t her uncle anymore, he was a cold and bitter old man, of course she’d rather be with someone. It was only natural.
It wasn’t even just this day, this month, this winter, that he’d built up this Christmas in his head. He’d been building up hope for every year he spent in jail, all 7 years. Every Christmas he spent on the cold cot of a prison cell, he told himself he needed to keep going, because he may one day see Athena smile again like she did on Christmas morning. If he kept going, then he would see her tear open a present, see her eyes light up as she held her brand new toy, or game, or whatever else. If he kept going, he would have the opportunity, the privilege, of being the one to give her that gift, of being the one to make her so happy. If he could just find the Phantom, avenge his master, and get out of prison, he would see her again.
Even after all those years, in Simon’s head, she was still just the same kid she was that last Christmas.
But Athena wasn’t a little girl anymore. She was a woman. She had grown up without him.
Tears trickled into the white snow.
Damn it, why did he have to be so stupid? Why did he have to ignore the obvious, that she’d changed? Why’d he have to ignore the obvious truth that the stupid party screamed, that he was meant to be alone? People like him were a depressing parasite on this holiday and everyone knew it. People whose only love was a child who’d grown up, who’d found someone, and didn’t need them anymore. Why couldn’t he accept that? Why couldn’t he just crawl into his empty apartment and never leave it again, instead of draining the energy of all the happy lovers filled with spirit? Why did he have to chase a past he’d never have again?
Hell, he wasn't even supposed to have it in the first place. Athena wasn’t even his niece. He didn’t even know if she liked the Shipshape aquarium anymore.
Damn it all.
Damn it all.
Damn it all.
“...Damn…damn it, Simon!”
…What?
He turned his head slightly, seeing, through his tears, a yellow bike in the distance, along with a very angry rider.
“Y-You,” Athena struggled while peddling through the snow, “You never check your fucking phone!” She finally reached a lamp post close to the parking lot, and practically kicked herself off of the bike seat. Invigorated and with a lungful of breath, she began to shout, “It’s always on silent! No one can contact you if it’s on silent! It, like, defeats the purpose of phones!”
Her only protection against the weather was a scarf and a pair of earmuffs, and still, she was sweating despite the cold. It was difficult to tell if the red of her face came from exhaustion, chilliness, or just anger.
“...You’ve,” he slowly started, “…been texting me?”
“Yes!” With the deepest frown imaginable, she pulled out her phone and shoved it in his face. It showed that he’d missed 10 calls from her, as well as 25 texts. When she opened up the abandoned group chat she started with him, Simon saw them. The first few of these texts were invitations sent days ago, accompanied by screaming Kermit gifs, then a few reminders of the invitation, then a lot of frustration at Simon’s lack of response since this morning, and finally a few aggressive all caps messages from the last hour that said, “WE ARE WATCHING THE MUPPETS CHRISTMAS CAROL”
“...I…I don’t even know what that is…”
“Well,” she growled, “It’s the best movie ever! So we’re watching it!”
…He missed it completely. Athena wanted to spend the holiday with him, and he almost completely missed it, simply because he refused to check his phone. He wasn’t used to it yet, since he hadn’t had one for 7 years, and he saw it as little more than a nuisance. At best, an annoying distraction.
He didn’t even think to check it for something that important.
“I apologize…”
A look flashed across her face. The sound of Simon’s heart, the depressed pit he almost buried himself in, must have finally reached her ears. That, and she noticed he was crying.
Her eyes softened.
Simon didn’t say anything, but still, he let the tears run down his face. He would not wipe them away, and she would not pressure him to explain. They both simply waited until the tears were nothing more than a streak under his eyes.
“Look,” Athena began again, “You need to put your phone on vibrate, at least. I had to bike all the way here just to get to you! From my apartment! Because of your phone!” She stomped her foot against the snowy asphalt. “Mr. Wright forgot to email Mr. Edgeworth, and everyone else put their stupid phones on silent! Stupid phones, stupid parties…” She stuck her hand out, still mumbling various complaints to herself.
Simon stared at her for a few seconds.
“...Your keys,” she eventually blunted.
He reluctantly gave them to her, and she quickly popped open the back of his car, grabbing her bicycle like she was about to chuck it inside before seeing a box neatly wrapped in bright yellow paper. “What’s that for?”
“...Present.”
“...Oh.”
She put her bike over it, a little more delicately than Simon thought she would at first, then closed the trunk. She clicked a button, unlocking the car, then chucked the keys back at him.
“...Athena?” he simply asked.
“You’re driving me to my apartment. I did not bike all the way here, just so you could blow me off! You’re watching the Muppets Christmas Carol with me!” She tore open the side door and threw herself inside. She understood the actual mechanisms of Simon’s new car better than he did (made sense, considering she helped him buy it), but she still didn’t have a license.
Simon carefully put himself into the driver’s seat. He still felt baffled. “...I was under the impression that you were watching it with…Juniper, I think it was.”
Athena stared at Simon with an almost offended look. “Yeah,” she said. “And so are you. So you can meet her.” She angrily tapped her skull a few times. “Duh!”
Simon opened his mouth to say something.
“Prosecuting her in court doesn’t count!” she expected him to say.
“...Thank you. Thank you for keeping me in your life.”
“...You’re welcome. Now, start driving. I wanna watch it before midnight.”