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“‘I would’ve won.’ Is that what you want to say?”
A voice that Phoenix hadn’t heard in months cracked through the air like thunder. Phoenix froze, entire body stiffening as a ghost strode back into his life. Familiar footsteps echoed in his ears, and an unforgettable shade of maroon filled his vision.
Miles Edgeworth looked almost exactly the same. Like he had stepped out of the past for the sole purpose of ruining Phoenix’s life. He couldn’t say anything as Miles continued to speak, a smug look on his face that was all too familiar. Though distantly he knew Franziska had fallen silent as well, and Detective Gumshoe was watching with a wide grin on his face, Phoenix couldn’t hear anything over the roaring in his ears.
Edgeworth’s brow furrowed slightly, and Phoenix realized he had asked him a question. But frozen in place, his heart pounding too quickly in his chest, Phoenix had no idea how to answer. Bile rose in his throat, his vision blurring. Edgeworth was alive. And Phoenix had no idea what to do about it.
Phoenix lurched away, hand over his mouth. He leaned over the nearest trashcan and heaved, ignoring the random detective who looked at him with bewilderment. Edgeworth was alive. Through the tears blurring his eyes, Phoenix realized Pearl was screaming at him, tugging at his sleeve, terrified. He wiped his mouth and did his best to smile down at her.
His smile disappeared as someone else came to stand on his other side, resting a gentle hand on his shoulder. Turning his head sharply, Phoenix locked eyes with that ghost. Back from the dead, Edgeworth’s grey eyes seemed as hard as ever, but they seemed to soften a bit once they met Phoenix’s. He shook his head violently, dispelling the thought.
Phoenix straightened his shoulders, the taste of bile still lingering sharp and pungent in his mouth. He yanked his eyes away from Edgeworth.
“Pearls, let’s go.”
Pearl’s eyes widened in surprise as her mouth opened slightly in protest. “But Mr. Nick, we haven’t–”
“Pearls.” Phoenix’s tone hardened. She blinked once, twice, hurt crossing her face as guilt twisted in Phoenix’s stomach. “Crap, Pearls, I’m sorry.” He bent down, meeting Pearl’s eyes even as the presence of Edgeworth behind him made Phoenix want to run. Towards Edgeworth or away, he wasn’t quite sure yet. “Please, let’s just go. Okay?” He tried for a smile.
Pearl nodded hesitantly, though she took Phoenix’s hand when he offered it.
“Wright,” Edgeworth started, but he broke off as Phoenix pushed past him too quickly, refusing to meet his eyes. “Wright, wait!” But Phoenix was already out of the building, the haunting words of a phantom still ringing in his mind.
When they arrived at the Wright & Co offices, Phoenix suggested as gently as he could that Pearl go to the room she shared with Maya. Maya… she’s still missing. Edgeworth showed up at the worst possible time. Because of course he did.
Phoenix barely made it to his own room intact before he collapsed on the floor, breathing hard. He curled up against the wall as the tears came. As he sobbed he berated himself over and over, how could you have given up on him so easily? How could you have hurt him so badly he left in the first place? How could you have been so impossibly weak that you rushed out of that building without even looking at him?
But even as the hatred was sobbed out of his body, anger flooded in to take its place. He ripped his suit jacket off, throwing it across the room as he rolled up his shirt sleeves, hoping that the cool air would soothe the fire scorching along his skin. “How could he?” Phoenix snarled, that stupid smug face popping into his mind right where it wasn’t wanted. “How could he just leave!?”
Phoenix slapped a hand over his mouth at the outburst, hoping Pearl hadn’t heard. He knew she had. “Pull it together, Wright,” He hiccuped, tears starting to dry on his face. He scrubbed one arm over his face, raking a hand through and tugging on carefully gelled hair. He had hoped the pain would ground him. It didn’t.
He dragged himself off of the ground, shoes that he hadn’t bothered to kick off dragging along his floorboards. Phoenix heaved himself to the bathroom, clumsily unbuttoning his shirt and shrugging it off. When he came face to face with his reflection in the mirror, he just felt worse. Tear tracks on flushed cheeks made his still-watery eyes even more pathetic, and his now-bare chest was still heaving.
The cool porcelain of the sink felt good against Phoenix’s warm palms. He broke eye contact with his reflection, bending down to splash water on his face. “Pull it together,” he repeated to himself. The cold splash was a shock to his skin, and when Phoenix saw his reflection again he noted with satisfaction that his cheeks were slightly less flushed.
Though the maelstrom of emotions inside him had slipped down from its peak, Phoenix was still at a loss. How do you cope with the realization that your dead best friend wasn’t, in fact, dead? Phoenix had no idea. He didn’t think he ever would.
Once he had calmed down a bit further, he slowly made his way out of the bathroom. It had somehow reached twilight outside, and when Phoenix cracked opened Pearl’s door, she was already fast asleep. It seemed her lack of sleep last night combined with the stressful situation had knocked her out cold. He crept into her room and tucked the blankets tighter around her. Phoenix’s heart strangled itself once more when he remembered his sharp words earlier. He would apologize in the morning.
Scrubbing a hand over his face and shoving everything to the back of his mind for the time being, Phoenix left Pearl’s room and moved to stand by the window. The world outside looked exactly as it had the last time he had looked. And the time before that, and the time before that, tracing back too many months when he had thought he was living in a world without Edgeworth.
Now Edgeworth was alive. He had been all along. But the world didn’t look any different. Phoenix wasn’t sure what he had expected, but somehow he felt there should be a shift. His perspective on the world had changed with the reappearance of his friend, and yet the world, as it was wont to do, didn’t seem to care.
Phoenix cracked open the window, leaning on the sill as he sighed. His eyes drifted along the horizon to rest in the direction he knew the Prosecutors Office lay in, and Edgeworth’s apartment with it. He wondered idly what the man was doing, back in a home he hadn’t touched in a year. Phoenix knew that it hadn’t been sold. He had made sure of it, not quite ready to let go of that piece of his friend. This was despite the fact that Phoenix had only been to the apartment itself a couple of times.
He reached for his phone to check the time. To his utter surprise, he noticed a few missed calls from Edgeworth. Phoenix had deleted the number after the first few months, after he had accepted Edgeworth wasn’t coming back. But it seemed he had never truly forgotten it.
Along with multiple calls, Edgeworth had left a single voicemail. After a single moment of regrettable curiosity, Phoenix clicked on it.
“Call me back.” The message was brief, rough, unfeeling. And so very Edgeworth. But after a beat of silence, it continued. “Please.” It was just one word. But somehow it felt softer. Changed the message from a demand to a reluctant plea. Phoenix dropped his head into his hands and groaned as an unwelcome feeling of warmth curled in his chest. He was so screwed.
Tossing his phone aside with a frustrated noise, Phoenix sighed once more. The twilight cast purple shades across his face, brushing gently against his closed eyelids and playing through his mussed hair. It was still wrecked, the normally perfect gel abandoning him to leave his hair hanging in his eyes. Despite himself, Phoenix picked up his phone once more.
His finger hovered over the call button. Everything in Phoenix told him not to go any further. But he had never been very good at listening to himself. Before he could change his mind, Phoenix clicked call. Sitting cross-legged on the couch, Phoenix put it on speaker and placed it in front of him. His hands were clasped together as he chewed on one of his knuckles, regarding the ringing phone as if it was dangerous.
It only rang once before Edgeworth’s voice came through. “Hello, you’ve reached Miles Edgeworth.” Phoenix immediately hung up. Breathing hard, Phoenix pocketed his phone and retreated back to his room. It had been a bad idea in the first place. He hadn’t even known what he wanted to say to Edgeworth. Honestly, he was lucky that he had come to his senses and hung up before more damage could be done.
Edgeworth didn’t seem to think the same. He called back twice before Phoenix’s phone finally fell silent. Breathing a sigh of relief, Phoenix collapsed into his bed. Slipping out of his belt and pants, Phoenix curled up in his boxers and socks. He threw the covers over himself and shoved all thoughts of a grey-haired prosecutor out of his mind. Phoenix could worry about him later. In the morning, he would be solely focused on Maya.
Unfortunately, his dreams didn’t seem to agree. As Phoenix tossed and turned, his dreams were occupied with a face that he hadn’t dreamed about in months. At least, not since Edgeworth’s first disappearance.
Edgeworth laughed gently, smiling slightly at something Phoenix had said. But as Phoenix was about to respond, laughing as well, Edgeworth’s face morphed. Blood dribbled out of his mouth and nose as his face drained of color. “This is your fault, Wright.” The blood dripped at Phoenix’s feet, lapping at his shoes. There was so much blood. It rose, drenching the hems of Phoenix’s pants.
“No, wait!” Phoenix stumbled back, slipped, and fell in the blood. Edgeworth’s blood. He was drowning in it, drowning in his mistakes, drowning in the fact that his best friend was dead and it was his fault for pushing too hard, for getting too close–
Phoenix startled awake with a gasp, drenched in sweat. His heart was pounding, and his temples ached. Sweat trickled down his jaw, and Phoenix wiped it away in disgust. Still panting, he hauled himself out of bed and into the hallway, making his way to the kitchen.
The nightmares had come back. At least that goddamn note wasn’t there this time. He thought bitterly, snatching a mug out of the cabinet as he forced himself to take a few deep breaths. Phoenix rummaged in another cabinet for a box of uncaffeinated tea. Feeling the smooth edges of a box under his hands, he pulled it out. But it wasn’t the tea he was looking for. Instead, it was a fancily decorated box of expensive European tea. Edgeworth’s. He had given it to Phoenix as a rare gift.
Covering his mouth with one hand, Phoenix shoved the tea box in the trash. He continued to rummage, desperately searching for the right box. He swore under his breath, breath quickening in barely-restrained frustration. When he finally snatched it out, it was empty. Phoenix swore soundly once more, crushing the box in one hand. It nestled in the trash next to Edgeworth’s tea.
“Mr. Nick…?” Pearl’s reluctant voice made Phoenix flinch. He turned sharply, forcing a smile.
“Yeah, Pearls? Why are you up?”
The little girl was holding onto a small stuffed elephant, a souvenir from the Berry Big Circus. Phoenix reflected fondly on the memory, even as he was punched in the stomach at the memory of being with Maya there.
“Couldn’t sleep anymore,” Pearl murmured, sliding onto one of the chairs at the counter. She kicked her feet idly, messing with the elephant’s trunk. “Are you okay, Mr. Nick? Who was that at the police place?”
Phoenix stilled, pausing in his search for a box of tea that wouldn’t bring up any feelings of frustration. “That was Mr. Edgeworth,” he said simply.
“Why don’t you like him?” Pearl pressed gingerly. “Mystic Maya said that you two were friends.”
“We were. But Edgeworth left a long time ago.” Phoenix did his best to keep the bitterness out of his voice. He kept his back to Pearl as he found a new box of tea and fished a bag out of it, setting it into a mug while water started to boil. “Do you want any tea? It might help you sleep.”
Pearl shook her head, but pressed onward in her line of questioning. Apparently she had learned a thing or two from Phoenix about pressing witnesses. “Do you hate him for leaving?”
Phoenix hesitated, “No, Pearls. It’s not that simple.”
“Why not?”
Because I’m in love with him.
Phoenix blinked at the unexpected thought. Where had that come from? He was angry at Edgeworth. And though he felt many things about the prosecutor, love was certainly not one of them.
“Mr. Nick?” Pearl sensed his reluctance to answer, and Phoenix cursed her observation skills.
“I don’t know, Pearls,” he admitted, voice tired.
“Okay,” Pearl said quietly. “I hope you two can be friends again. He looked really sad when you didn’t talk to him.”
Phoenix reached over to ruffle Pearl’s hair affectionately. “Thanks, Pearls. Me too.”
The two shared small smiles. Neither went back to bed that night. They curled up on the couch and watched Steel Samurai re-runs until light peeked back into the room, heralding the new day.
“Time to save Maya, hmm?” Phoenix said quietly, finally breaking the hours of solemn silence.
Pearl just nodded fiercely in return.