Chapter Text
For maybe the 7th time now, the words that should've clung firmly to paper taunted him as they danced through the air.
They flew off the pages on his desk, the labels on each box of sorted files and the spines of books mounted upon the shelves sitting in corners collecting dust. Smaller words fell off of various trophies and collections of musical albums mounted upon the walls.
Eustace recognized this sign by now, how exhaustion bleed into reality as of late. He hadn't exactly gotten much sleep recently, ever since the trial of his father. Not that it had been a failure of a trial, far from it. Maybe the singular success he could truly claim.
No, it was a more complicated matter that kept him from sleep. Too many things stacked upon eachother, desires and fears. To prove himself worthy of his title, the shaking fear of what "home" was, to be the better manas Edgeworth said, who he was beneath what heothers? had made himself up to be, more and more doubts stacking upon fatigue- again.
He groaned in defeat as he flipped up another page, another case his father had been related to in some shape or form. Verity had requested something of him, to give him a more formal task of sorts beyond being her pawn. To see if or rather, how his father may have manipulated the outcome of a trial.
Best case scenario, he didn't in the slightest and only presided regularly over the matter. However there were many instances where that wasn't the outcome, so he had to sort those instances into separate scenarios.
Falsified autopsies, wrongful imprisonments, wrongful sentences, if too much time had passed, if there was still a time frame in which to fix these cases, and so on and so on.
Each case file had a different reality, realities that he wished he could fix. He had poured over some past overdue dates, looking for a piece that could potentially resurface the incident somehow- just like Edgeworth had done with IS-7 recently. There was a few that looked promising, ones he faintly recalled as relevant at some point or another based on passing conversations he had with Gavèlle and-or Excelsius.
Some, unfortunately, were long past due, whether it be a passing or relevant information becoming null and void in part of other instances.
Whatever the case it be for each trial, he had sorted a little over 3/4ths of them by now. Verity had done majority of the tedious investigating on if or what he was involved in, so that he simply had to assign roles to each. Making it just a touch easier on the matter.
Still, it was late. Dark enough out where he was willing to resort to sleeping the night over here again, as he had done over the course of the past 2 days, going on 3 now. When he was done he could return home, despite the idea of what that notion gave thought to.
Not that he hadn't been over there, he had every day to get a change clothes and wash up. Do a quick peruse around the house and check everything was in place. And each time, he wished to do so quicker to be away from there.
It gnawed at him, in a way. To see the walls of a place made so much out of the image of his father.
The smell of oil so prominent around where his father usually occupied, the garage that was dark and always so loud throughout his life, memories upon memories he couldn't stomach to go over.
His innocence ignorance had been blissful. Thinking of him now, his life there, what it very well could have been if he were only smarter. Noticed what was now so obvious.
It was thanks to Edgeworth, and he couldn't be more grateful. He certainly couldn't waste more time crying over it, especially with work left undone that he could think about instead of- well everything else. That could wait. Wait till it simply slipped his mind, hopefully enough.
His stomach grumbled, present with the apparent emptiness that seemed to occupy when he wasn't on his typical routine. One he was long past by now. Nonetheless, he couldn't ignore his own body’s needs for long, lestleast it impair his duties with difficulties it imposed.
Such as now, being distracted by both the result of what was his poor sleep causing visual hallucinations and presently, that of requiring nutrients of some kind. "Right, food.." Eustace muttered to himself as he rose from his desk, the words still floating ever so slightly in his vision.
All he needed to amend this little visual issue was food or sleep. Considering he didn't feel all too tired yet, despite the clawing itch of a headache that had grown, he'd just simply opt for food then. There was a vending machine just a floor above the parking garages, and it'd be quicker to do that and get back to work, rather than to sleep then work.
Silently he slipped away from his office, locking it behind him. A habit he had slipped into a bit more naturally lately. It would be bad if the cases were stolen, and out of fear something would happen to the evidence like it had before..
The action was nearly second nature. Not that he hadn't messed up before, just yesterday he had left the key in his office while locking it manually, having to obtain one of the security staff to unlock it.
He had almost felt like crying when it happened, but the lady was nice enough about it as he half mumbled into his gloves about the issue. She- Magpie he believed her name was- had told him of her own misfortunes. Which had ranged from silly as his own to downright terrible. Apparently having managed to get accused of murder on three separate accounts, and if that wasn't bad enough- a previous boyfriend of hers was killed.
That had made the ordeal a bit easier to get through. Though it had caused him to lose some of the concentration that he had, getting a bit less work done than prior circumstances allowed.
Nevertheless, it was almost done, so he could ignore feeling bad about getting "behind" on the matter as long he kept at it.
Eustace stepped out beyond the elevator to a familiar hall, familiar in being here many times, similar in every other way. How the doors all looked of a deep brown- with pronounced neat boxes raised in the doorframes, plant-like lights spaced between each door; all with the same flooring and walls as every other office floor.
The vending machine sat just on the right of one of the benches. About half of the options were drinks with the other half being either snacks or miniature desserts.
He glanced over the food options, clicking on the turkey sandwiches. One of the better selections that he had tried. Not nearly as good as what the vending machines in the courthouse provided. Hell, there was at least two separate machines for drinks and foods.
But it was cheaper, so he couldn't complain that much, even if the damn thing took around 5 minutes to actually dispense what he paid for.
So he waited, settling down on the bench waiting for the little flap to bend out slightly. It was the tell-tale sign that the machine had worked again, despite the age it was getting to. He was very certain one of the springs was getting rusty. Could almost swear he heard it scrape against the packaging.
Then Eustace caught a glimpse of a shade of red, he could barely even register it just out of the corner of his vision before his body reacted. His shoulders turned upwards as his right arm swung halfway up to cover his face before freezing.
A distinct sense of dread washing over him before turning cold in regret, because- it can't have been him.
He's in jail now, locked up.
He had been going over everything- doing all of that because he knew.
And then his mind simply forgot?
Slipped the memory entirely just of association?
Eustace turned, slowly lowering his arm, but not as much his wariness. His first impressions were.. poor, to say the least. It could be someone he antagonized, or just some stranger who now thinks he's weird. Instead that wasn't the case, it was Edgeworth. Carrying a vanillamanilla file at his left side, with some reading glasses fixed unto? onto his face.
His head tilted before he spoke, just as formal as always. "What are you doing here at this hour?" Edgeworth's eyes look down to a now empty spot on his coat. "Your badge.."
"Gone." He replied quickly, a silent relief he didn't stumble over the singular word he spoke. "It wasn't taken but, it didn't feel appropriate after everything... Not something I can wear with.. pride?"
"That is how the saying goes, yes. Although the teaching is more accurately said to be a badge of honor, it is one in the same." The silence sat as Eustace found himself fumbling over how to reasonably respond. Before he even had a chance to decide or better yet even think to begin an explanation Edgeworth spoke again instead. "You have yet to answer my question."
Question, right, what he was failing at right now. To understand why he was so hesitant to speak his mind.
It wasn't even a crime what he was doing. His face must look silly right now with a blank and scrambled expression.
He just needed to respond.
So why wasn't he? Why couldn't he?
"I uh- uhm.."
Words actual words.
Those things that he knows and fails at all too often.
Focus. Just—
"Cases- files.. Ah.."
He half expected a slap or a backhanded remark by now, yet it doesn't happen. All he needed was to breathe, it wasn't horrible to do. A crime for just taking a little longer to think.
Just a little truth- and the rest he can abstain from, then wasn't really a lie. Just something that would satisfy the nagging fear that itched at his skin.
There was no knowing how Edgeworth would feel on such a monumentously important task being given to him. And with his head starting to wish and wash with phantom motion, he didn't think he could deal with any abrupt reaction. "Verity gave me a task, to uh.. sort out some of the cases my... father was present in. See if he had done anything to them."
"I see. And now..?"
"Just some food, been working for a while now."
"That's.. good. Glad to see you doing well." Edgeworth pressed his index finger to his bottom lip, a considerable look passing over him. "Then would I be correct in assuming you will be resuming said work shortly after eating."
"Yes, that would be correct sir." Eustace could feel his voice quiver. It seemed as if Mr. Edgeworth had no quails qualms with his work. Which would be a relief, if his face still didn't look so.. intimidating. Like he still had questions for him. "Are you uhm.. heading out for the night?"
"..... No, I was just getting here. I had left something in my office that I neglected to take with me earlier."
The statement felt vaguely wrong, something nagged at Eustace- a contradiction in what Edgeworth was saying. Hadn't he come from the elevator that only went to the office floors? That was what seemed wrong at least to him initially, but more than ever he just wanted to focus on what he was doing. It was a harmless thing to lie about, and he hadn't the time or energy to freak out over it. "So what were you coming to—"
His words trailed off when he at last caught the sight of the vending machine finally producing his sandwich. Wrapped up in its glorious prepackaged shiny film.
He jumped up to his feet and knelt down swiftly to scoop up his food, easing back on heels to stand face to face with Edgeworth. Realizing a little too late how the sudden burst of excitement might typically seem odd in most social interactions. "My uh, food." Eustace stuttered, he really should get headed back now.
If he was quick enough he could probably get in 5 more cases. Energy rushed through him, eager to eat and feeling delightfully more motivated. Although that could just be the sudden blood rush to his head he got from getting up so quick. "I should probably get going now."
"I see. Will you be heading home soon then?"
"When I'm done yes.." Internally Eustace winced, Edgeworth most definitely knew something was off now if he didn't already mess it up. If he had gotten some food earlier maybe he would have been able to play it off better, at least then he wouldn't be at half functioning capacity. "But don't worry I'll get out of your hair..."
"That isn't necessary Eustace. Like I said, I need to retrieve something from my office." Edgeworth paused, a smirk showing on his face. "And- I'd like to see how much progress you made."
"... Right." The plastic wrap squeaked against his glove. There wasn't anything he could do now, Edgeworth clearly knew that he was lying. Now he would have to show him as much.
Back up at his office Eustace hovered by the door, key in hand to unlock it. Edgeworth was a few steps behind him, hovering and expectant of what lay beyond the door. It did nothing ease his worries as to what Edgeworth would say, or how badly he would react to the extent of what he withheld.
If he would look over his handiwork and saw he messed up somehow. Even after trying so hard and working so long on everything.
Or Edgeworth could say he was disorganized and that his office was a damn mess. That this wasn't work for someone like him.
Reprimands began to surface in his mind as the doorknob squealed beneath his gloves.
Waiting for what he would do, when he'd finally rip the bandaid off.
"Er- Mr. Winner? Are you quite alright?"
"Ah."
Right, his office.
"Sorry I'll- I'll open the door..." It squeaked beneath his fingers before swinging open. And not wanting to see Edgeworth's reaction, he quickly hurried back inside his office.
He could hear the sharp stop of Edgeworth's breathing upon entering the room, and the creaky old floorboard giving way as they walked in.
The words labeling everything began to float around again, mocking him. He should have known better after all, to do anything. The best he had ever done was to be of service to someone else and only under their watch because he would inevitably mess it up again.
That he knew, that was all they ever seemed to tell him. Verity had only differed by giving him more autonomy? freedom, and Edgeworth was the first to try to help him, to truly guide him. Now he had made a mess of everything, surely. By making himself nuisance yet again, rendering himself useless. "Eustace this..."
A hand landed on his shoulder, he didn't dare look back. "How long have you been working? And don't try and lie to me."
His chest hurt, and his throat tightened as if he were going to cry again. Like he hadn't done that enough, been enough of an embarrassment. "Ah.. About three days now... With around six.. sixty-ish cases looked through and according evidence surveyed as well.. Sorted properly. I believe there is around.. fifteen left?" He hit his chest with a fist, clearing his throat. "Anyways- uhm. It's almost done, and I was planning to go home once it was all finished and.... and.."
Letters swarmed around his eyes, buzzing like pests and making them sting. His lips tasted like salt as he tried to finish what he was saying. But the words wouldn't come out, recycled on the tip of his tongue then disposed of.
Eustace couldn't bare to think of what came next, the weight already felt crushing.
Was it so obvious that he had already failed yet again?
Why couldn't Edgeworth just leave and let him fail quietly?
Let him believe for a little bit longer that his work meant something.
Even if later he'd look over everything 5 times over, out of fear there would be a mistake left in his handiwork.
Out of fear of going back to there, to what he couldn't face.
"This isn't-" Edgeworth stopped mid sentence, rubbing the bridge of his nose. His eyes still just as piercing, but with an added solemnity about. "This has been a difficult week for you with everything that has transpired, between how your father treated you and now continuing to be surrounded by nothing but reminders of him. I don't imagine going home would do anything to relieve you of that burden either, not after what happened to you."
Eustace shriveled back at the reminder, but nodded all the same.
Edgeworth took a long draw of air, continuing on with a lighter weight carried through his voice. "What I am trying to say. Is that.. if you deem it imperative- or otherwise desired... My home does have a spare bedroom available." Edgeworth shifted his posture, slightly less stiff than moments prior, but just enough of a difference. "The option is here, if you are willing or wish to take it."
The air was tangibly less stale than earlier, being how Edgeworth wasn't acting how Eustace had expected. A silly thought now in retrospect, but one he hadn't yet been able to thoroughly dismiss. Maybe out of fear or some other reason.
His offer was generous enough, although Eustace certainly didn't wish to impose on Edgeworth. Then again, it seemed clear at this point that Edgeworth hadn't had any true business left here in the offices, only lingering about because what he was doing happened to catch his attention.
There was even the offer that Edgeworth had made him not long ago; to help him become a better prosecutor, worthy of upholding truth in the face of those who wronged others. Even in the current moment there wasn't much he could do right now left of his work, being the state he was in; and it didn't seem as if the offer was coming out of a place of pity, if the earliest mention of aid still rang true.
Just a night would be fine, and if Edgeworth was offering he wouldn't be one to decline such.
Eustace despite everything knew he needed some proper sleep, regardless of his reluctance to admit it. His neck was beginning to ache from falling asleep at his desk and waking up between odd hours; with being just lucid enough that it wasn't a full and proper sleep before drifting off again till the sunlight bled through his eyelids.
Just for the night, and that's it.
"That would be, appreciated." Eustace agreed, "A single night would be beneficial, I don't think a restless sleep back at my father's house would.. help me. But I do believe a singular night should be enough to, put my head on straight."
That sentiment worked well enough for Edgeworth, as he nodded and picked up a stride to leave, satisfying himself with his own thoughtful musings. "Well then, let us get going. The more rest, the better. Mm?"
"Yes, yes of course. If I could just.. lock up quickly?"
"Go right ahead. I'll wait just outside."
"Thank you."
The door shut, leaving Eustace alone in the office. If just for a moment to quickly set things in more appropriate locations. Shoving the boxes off to one side to make the path to his desk less of a tripping hazard. Then his office looked just about right.
He picked up the few things he had brought with him, that being his key chain and his phone. Then finally shutting the blinds, flicking off the overhead lights, and locking the door as he shut it behind him.
Edgeworth gave him a nod as they start making their way over to the elevator. Which, he hadn't been using too much after the case. Eustace had used it a couple times, but just after wrapping up his father's trial he didn't have the stomach too. His heart had dropped so fast when he saw the crowded elevator that greeted him, and his mind became so foggy it felt clustered at what lay before him. Even later in the day when he saw the elevator that was by then empty due to the hour- he couldn't walk in it.
But he had used it since then, so it wasn't a matter of the elevator, that much he recognized.
The elevator itself was fairly big, having an 8 foot by 8 foot floor and a 12 foot high ceiling. It's make was mostly tiles of sorts, for both the flooring and the majority of the ceiling. But the walls were simple polished rock, not marble but like a well polished stone that was nearly white.
Lights lined the top of the walls, and if you rode the elevator at a particularly late hour when it was typically just security staff- the lights would flicker and dim. Eustace had mentioned this to the security lady, and she had taken note of such. So it would be hopefully taken care of soon, at least he wished for as much.
Even though the decent down was a somewhat comfortable silence, the AC was almost uncomfortably high as it ran. Cold air nipped at his nose and cheeks, it particularly stung where his baton had hit his cheek on many occasions.
It was almost tempting to let out a breath of warm air to see if it would cloud from the chilly temperature. But such behavior was childish, so Eustace didn't do as much.
It didn't take long before the elevator doors opened to the floor just above the parking garage. A small flight of stairs, and the movable ramp were just around the corner, followed by a substantial amount of rows of empty spaces. There were a few cars still remaining, and he recognized the security staffs vehicles- at least for the two people on duty at the moment. But besides those, there were maybe 5 cars of prosecutors that were still at the office.
None belonged to him, he had always gotten lifts on public transport unless he was on duty for a case or otherwise 'working'. Then he would receive transport in sleek expensive vehicles. Not in the sense of expensive being classic, although that is what he often heardmostly from his father but only regards to motorcycle models. But sleek as in shiny, polished, and absorbing an exorbitant excess amount of money to keep that 'new' look.
Verity had a 2007 Black Toyata Camry, and was quite proud of it. The first conversation they had when she had to take him along for work- at least a third of it was about transport alone. Somewhere along those lines it let slip the make of her car, something about how reliable it was even now. Then the conversation had shifted over to pride of her handiwork, then back onto the subject of her job and what they were supposed to be doing.
From what he gathered- which might not be much based on the fact it was his own assumption vehicle's or other preferred transport often showed a person's personality.
Verity's certainly showed her pride in her work and maintenance.
There were many things to be said about his father's...
And Gumshoe used a bike, or simply walked. Which could simply be attributed to his poor financial status. But he shined the handlebars of the thing like it was his baby even if it was pretty beat up and certainly more than ready to retire. That probably said something about him too.
So if anything, he assumed that Edgeworth's car- or truck or van, he certainly shouldn't be assuming must reflect on his personality just as well.
He could see the car now and it immediately stroke a chord to just how similar an impression Edgeworth had left him. The model was sleek, a bit on the older side but not completely dated, certainly not a classic but any sports enthusiast could recognize the brand.
Eustace remembered it faintly, seen it one of the many races his father had recorded and left for him to watch. The most he could remember is that a particular publication had coined it Godzilla. Based on the model number and that the very same type of car had won a few championships internationally.
As he circled around it, he could see it was well kept. Edgeworth was that kind of person, so he wasn't surprised on that part. However, he could see that the lock for the trunk was- well busted at some point- to put it simply. It certainly had been fixed up to the mechanics or locksmiths best efforts. However- nothing could change the slight dent and slithering crack that had been left behind.
"What happened your trunk?"
"Pardon?"
"The trunk was broken into at some point wasn't it? Did you lose anything? I mean- this is a pretty nice car- and they probably thought you were well off.."
"No-no. I mean how did you notice? I was assured that it was all cleaned thoroughly- and fixed as per compensation.." Edgeworth looked flustered at his question. Had he messed up? Now that he thought more about it, the question was rather prying and definitely personal. Who in their right mind asked if something that had clearly been fixed had been broken into at some point?
"Ah- I...I'm uhm.. Sorry." Eustace bit on his thumb. "It was the uh.. well the lock is fine. But there's a small crack they weren't able to fully get rid of left on the shell. Also the outline of the original lock left enough of an indent they weren't able to fully smooth out."
He gestured to the barely visible raise, it was likely created in an attempt to salvage it from the indent the person who broke in had created. "I don't know exactly what they did to fix it- I'm no car expert... but they did a good job- really!"
Backpedaling seemed an almost futile attempt, now that he had made so much a fool of himself. "No it's fine Eustace, truly." Edgeworth chuckled and gave him a soft pat on the back. "I'm more impressed really, even if the topic is a sore one.. And you say you aren't a car expert?"
"Well I'm not.. But my father was a fanatic about anything motorcycle and racing related. So by association I picked up some things." Eustace admitted, rubbing his arm up and down as he reminisced. "He'd never take me, even after my mother left. But he would always bring back recordings of the race to watch later. So I would end up watching them when he was away."
A distant memory floated in the recess of his mind, of himself sitting on the floor as he popped the copy of the latest race his father had seen into the TV. It was an eerie but comfortable silence that had grown to occupy his house since his mother had gone. The scent of engine oil was only starting to escape the garage at the time and hadn't fully seeped into the walls just yet. Back then, there was still trace spots that spelled homely, of honey and fresh laundry. Those places being his own room, the laundry closet, and corners of the kitchen.
In those last moments back then was when it seemed he was the most innocent, still on track with his education and conversing well with his peers. When he could claim it was by no fault of his own that he had less knowledge. Only now had he found that path again, seeing that light that used to seep through the windows gently.
Edgeworth was getting the car started as he resurfaced from his thoughts. Likewise he followed suit, settling into the passenger seat up front. Seeing a bit more clearly now that the windows were also tinted, making the already dark night outside just a bit more devoid of light. His grip around the handle didn't loosen even after sitting down and shutting the door, something unconsciously urged him against it.
He hadn't exactly been getting to the prosecutors office recently by any means of transport, obviously not by his dad, and even still not public transport.
By now he had hoped that the worry that sat in the back of his mind or whatever it may be would have washed away by now. The irrational worry his father always spoke of that could be 'cleansed'.
Just like his current hesitance for anything pitch dark, and tight spaces. Crowds of people in one area and turning off the lights had quickly grown adverse to him, but smaller instances were growing more tolerable- like elevators.
Still, it seemed as if vehicles hadn't been part of the small exception. Even if he could see what was ahead of him, and move his limbs more freely.
He couldn't free himself of reminders of what had happened. The trapped isolated feeling it sent reeling him back into.
That distinct feeling slithered back beneath his skin, through his mind. Of feeling the entire world around him crammed against his body. Each part of his own body contorted in pain to fit inside where he was trapped.
Skin to skin.
Wall to head, limbs entangled that shouldn't be that close.
His heart pounded against his head- his knees- the crevices beneath his elbows. Close- too close.
Louder than it ever had been before.
Shut away from anything. Everything. It almost felt like a deprivation of all his senses but touch and sound. In which case it was all too much.
His eardrums thundered as the engine bellowed beneath him.
The sharp turns of the vehicle slammed his body repeatedly against the walls.
Each hit sparked further back memories of pain he had wished to forget.
He could barely breath as the cloth choked back his sobs, roaring pain in the back of his throat.
Could barely gasp as the rope dug into his skin and pressed against not only him but the walls closing in around him.
It was all so dark, dreadfully dark. And the dark was going to crush him.
Kill him.
When he gasped to breathe again he could feel fresh air around his lips. Finding Edgeworth staring at him. His gaze piercing and uncomfortable.
Eustace turned his head away in shame, clicking the belt into place and sliding the seat back enough to where he wasn't as close the front of the car as his knees that brushed against the dash were. The elastic of the seatbelt sat loose enough to where it wasn't skin tight, but taught enough to where if the car were to suddenly jerk to a halt his body wouldn't fly into the walls.
He could still feel the bruises ache beneath his clothes.
Despite his better judgment, Eustace pressed his side up against the right wall of the car. If only to not face Edgeworth. It was warmer than the steel case, and the window was just as cold but an entirely different texture. It was comforting enough, and it wasn't the same. He had tell himself that it wasn't the same.
Eustace had chose this, he could feel the air around him. There was even still light out in the parking garage. Nothing was closing in on him. Not the walls, not the darkness, and certainly not his life being forced out of his body. Despite how desperate his breathing was. Nothing was closing in on him.
He wheezed, keeping his eyes focused out the window in a daze. On the light, the light that seemed so calming right now. Unnatural as it may be, fluorescent and bright. At least it wasn't nothing.
"Eustace?"
"Yes?"
"Are you quite alright?"
"Mm fine." His response was a tad jittery and altogether muffled. Though thankfully Edgeworth didn't press him any further. If he did, well he certainly hadn't heard him.
The engine roared up, a soft hum unlike the roar he could hear from the trunk. A softer current of the AC circled his skin as the car began to move.
When Edgeworth turned out of the parking garage he could see the night sky. Dark, speckled with very few stars against the light polluted city. Dark but not as dark.
In the trunk it looked the same, both with his eyes closed and open. The same sight met him regardless. But knowing all you could see with your eyes wide open was darkness was somehow worse. Only between being moved into the tiny storage room of his father's garage and being tossed out of the trunk harshly after their vehicle sped off did he see any glimpse of light before being enclosed back in the dark again.
But this time there were lights, from windows of houses, from businesses on the streets. Lamp lights and headlights. Dazzling and bright, and oh so warm as shadows of people dipped in and out of their luminance light. Scenes of people blurred as the car went along. People sitting on the couch, people standing side by side in the kitchen, people hugging, people laughing with their heads thrown back in a loud hearty laugh.
Scenes blurred together as his eyes grew misty. At some point too, he stopped paying attention all together because the stars were finally visible now. Buildings weren't as clustered together and even the duller stars poked out of hiding.
At some point too the car stopped, and Eustace hadn't noticed because the car hadn't halted like most do. Busses screach to a soft stop, Verity's did too for the most part. But it was so gradual that it never had that jerking motion of the full stop most vehicles had. That full stop that would always pull him out of whatever daze he had found himself in.
What had gotten him out of his haze was the sound of the door opening. He jolted up and quickly freed himself from the car. Patting down his items and pushing the door shut as he hurried up to follow behind Edgeworth.
The house was was substantially big and alight inside for some reason. Though he had by now lost motivation to try reasoning out why.
He was pretty sure Edgeworth was talking to him about something, probably his house but by this point sound all but lost meaning too.
There was the entryway he registered, and that there was some disembodied voice floating around the house he recognized. Yet again his mind left the thought behind as he shuffled behind Edgeworth. Following through the hall until arriving at a door.
The guest room he assumed.
Weight dropped from his shoulders as he saw the bed, he nearly would have collapsed right into it if he had made it a few steps further. But a hand stopped him from moving forward. "Don't you think you should at least remove your shoes and socks, and perhaps your jacket before sleeping?"
"Mm I suppose" Eustace mumbled, it did make sense. Sleeping with shoes on had been uncomfortable. Not so much the jacket or socks, but he understood the point enough.
He nodded slowly, noting distantly that his shoulder was free again as he kicked off his shoes. When he turned around after it was just his day outfit minus the socks, Edgeworth was gone.
It was just him and the warm lamp that illuminated just some of the room.
Edgeworth must've flicked the light switch off for the overhead light or something.
Whatever the case he fell back onto the bed, tugging half of the blanket over his body before his eyelids started to weigh heavy.
The blanket itself was soft and plush, maybe expensive or something just very well made. At the moment it didn't seem to matter to him.
For the first time in a few days his mind felt somewhat at ease. Enough to accept defeat of not finishing all his work yet. With the ever-present exhaustion he had accumulated, finally taking over him.
Weight of the blanket was crushing yet featherlight as the air. It even smelled like freshly washed laundry, of some floral syrup or sweet tasting fauna. His frame heaved and fell lax with a heavy and exhausted, yet content sigh.
And at last, he fell asleep.