Chapter Text
Edgeworth considered himself lucky for his situation. His father had accepted who he was rather quickly, and even changed his name, and as a result Manfred never found the truth. He’d grown up as the man he was, as the person he was. He couldn’t remember what it was like to be treated as a girl, and he honestly preferred it that way.
The only problem he had was with his body.
Growing up and never telling your adoptive father that you had a female form was… tricky. And it wasn’t like he had never tried- he’d brought up the topic of transgender individuals once at dinner. It just hadn’t gone well, for lack of a better phrase. So, he never brought it up again- the last thing he needed was to be disowned by his adoptive father and have no place to turn to again.
Franziska had found out rather quickly. While she was younger than him, she was perceptive as ever. She only had to put together the facts that the toilet paper was disappearing at a much faster rate around a specific time of the month, and Miles was having problems breathing a little- and she decided it was time to help. Having a presenting girl, no matter her age, with him while he made his purchases made things easier. And not being able to buy hormone suppressors, or start a biological transition, he’d gone on as he always had.
When he moved away from Manfred, as soon as he started to get his own money, he started on hormone replacement therapy. His voice deepened only slightly, but it was significantly less of a strain to keep it that way. His body started to change to reflect how he wanted to live, and it was a relief. Meeting Wright and being able to keep his secret hidden was even more of a relief.
The one thing that Edgeworth had left was to get rid of the two mounds on his chest that constantly reminded him of the past. Binding had been a pain for years, and he’d always had a shortness of breath when he was prosecuting. He wondered what it’d be like to run freely, to speak without being constricted. Staring in the mirror, clothes discarded, he analyzed himself, trying to sort his feelings. He was comfortable with his slight curves. He was comfortable with the way fat was distributed in his body in a more androgenous than masculine manner. He was comfortable with what was down below (seemed awfully convenient with how gay he was, if another gay man would even like that, or truly see him as a man- but that was another fear altogether).
He was not comfortable with his breasts.
He redressed in a robe. It’d taken an hour, and an impulsive decision, and he suddenly had multiple appointments to start visiting surgeons. It was two months until he’d found one he was comfortable with, and one who he was able to better trust with his identity. It was a week before the surgery when something the doctor had said finally clicked in his brain.
“After the surgery, recovery will be a little challenging. You won’t be able to do any strenuous activity for two weeks, and you won’t be able to carry anything heavier than five pounds or three kilos for a month.”
If he couldn’t carry his briefcase… Perhaps he needed a rolling bag? He was sure he could find a rolling briefcase of sorts-
But what about the stairs?
He froze, seated in his car, eyes staring out the windshield at nothing. His hands remained on the wheel as his mind blanked out. He wouldn’t be able to carry things up stairs. Would he even be able to walk up stairs? He was a decent size, going down to nothing in the blink of an eye. How bad would this be?
He’d made it back to his office, his mind still in a bit of a haze. Going up the stairs, he found himself out of breath as always when he opened the door to his office- and… Wright was there. He sighed through his nose, eyes sliding to Maya. “Hello.”
“EEK!” Maya jumped, turning quickly, hands behind her back. “MISTER EDGEWORTH!”
“Ah- Edgeworth!” Wright had turned with the same amount of speed, much in the same position. Edgeworth started to walk towards his desk, where both of them were, attempting to go around them.
“WAIT WAIT WAIT-!” Maya attempted to stop him, but he simply side-stepped the shorter girl, going to set his bag on his chair. He took a deep breath in and out before finally looking at his desk, eyes narrowing at the papers on it.
“Mr. Wright?” Edgeworth asked, eyes snapping up, “An explanation would be nice.” He crossed his arms, still trying to catch his breath, wishing more than anything he could pull his hands into his shirt and adjust his binder. But that would reveal himself, and he refused to do that for Maya or Wright.
Wright may not like what he finds out, He gently reminded himself. And then- Not that I care about his opinions. He found himself lost in his thoughts that he didn’t realize Wright was actually answering his question until the other snapped his fingers.
Edgeworth blinked. “Can you repeat that?” He asked, gaze still looking stern. Even embarrassed, he wasn’t going to back down.
“Are you okay?” Wright asked gently.
“Don’t change the topic. Why are you two snooping through my things- and what are all of these?” Edgeworth reached down to his desk, picking up one of the pages.
“We were-”
“We were actually waiting for you! To tell us that!” Maya said happily, interrupting Wright, “We need help!”
“You never need my help,” Edgeworth muttered, not seeing the sad gaze that briefly flashed across Wright’s face. “This… Is your current case?”
“Yeah,” Wright answered.
Edgeworth turned to the other pages, stepping closer. He set the one in his hand down, and started to rearrange documents as he read- simply organizing them based on stray thoughts or ideas he had. Every time he presented a collection to Wright, either him or Maya would shout something, and then write it down. Edgeworth just found himself glad that he could focus on something that wasn’t earlier events.
They’d stayed sorting and coming up with leads and theories until 8PM, when Maya announced that she was going to get dinner. Edgeworth then told them to go home, and Wright tried to invite him over, and Edgeworth declined, and after a rather awkward conversation Maya decided to go downstairs to wait for a cab.
That…
That left Edgeworth and Wright alone in the room.
“So…” Wright started, watching as Edgeworth tried to actually organize things and put them away.
“So,” Edgeworth repeated, his voice sounding a bit distant.
“How was your day?” Wright had that stupid smirk on his face, asking that question he asked when he had nothing else to say.
“It was,” Edgeworth muttered.
“It… was?” Wright shifted, “You’re not one to give me that kind of response. Usually you’d go into detail about it, and at some point Maya would call me to say the cab was here.”
“...And?” Edgeworth asked, looking up.
“So, something’s wrong.”
“Perhaps I’m just tired.”
“You’re never just tired.”
“On the contrary, I’m always tired.”
“You’re only tired when something’s wrong.”
Edgeworth’s lips pressed into a line. He could say it. He could just say it, right here, right now, rip it off like a band-aid. But what would be the purpose? It wasn’t like Wright was going to walk him to work every day and carry his bag for him. Edgeworth’s arm moved to grip his elbow, his gaze dropping to the floor. He didn’t want to say it. He didn’t want Wright to think any differently of him.
“Miles?”
Edgeworth looked up again quickly, realizing that Wright had approached. He noticed Wright’s hands fidgeting, and started to follow the pattern with his eyes. “I’m…” He let out a breath, “I’m okay, Wright. Thank you for your concern.”
Wright didn’t look satisfied, but before he could press any more, his phone rang. It was time to go. “Alright. See you soon.”
“You as well.”
Phoenix wanted so badly to give Miles a hug, to tell him how he felt, to just help Miles through whatever this was. But two things stopped him: Miles’ dislike for hugs, and the genuine fear in his eyes. Phoenix had never seen a fear like that. He walked out of the office feeling confused, making his way down the stairs (it was faster than the elevator, and much easier than going up), and out the door to find Maya. He’d figure things out.
Edgeworth was shaking the day of the surgery. Franziska had gone with him, the only one who knew it was happening, and she’d been a great source of comfort, but she also… had her own issues. She was stressed, and severely worried, which meant that while her physically being there had been a relief for Edgeworth (if this went horribly wrong like his paranoia was telling him, he did not want to die alone), her emotional state and her whip were making things a little worse.
They shared a long hug, some silence, and then Edgeworth was wheeled into the room.
The next thing he fully recognized was sitting on the couch at home, bundled in blankets, and feeling like an absolute child. Everything hurt, badly- he couldn’t bend in specific ways, he couldn’t do anything that was “too hard” for him. He just needed to “focus on getting better,” and apparently that meant turning into an absolute couch potato while Franziska covered for him in the office.
Those two weeks went by without any issues. Edgeworth was (according to Franziska) “pacified” by watching Steel Samurai, though he tried to help her with the house chores as much as he could. When he’d gone for a post-op appointment, they’d removed the bandages, and once the doctor left him with Franziska he’d broken into joyful tears.
It was now the Monday after the post-op appointment- which meant a little over two weeks had gone by, and Edgeworth had to go back to the office. He’d drove to the office just fine, parked, and taken out his new rolling bag (with a small amount of effort to get it out of the car). He walked up to the door, he opened the door, he walked inside- and there was Detective Gumshoe.
“Mr. Edgeworth!” Gumshoe exclaimed, running over to him.
“Hello,” Edgeworth chuckled, rolling his shoulders carefully, “How are you, Detective?”
“I’m doin’ just great now that you’re back! What happened, pal??” Gumshoe always reminded Edgeworth of a lost dog, trying to sort out everything that was going on while simultaneously chasing his own tail.
“I was taking some time off,” Edgeworth said simply, “I needed it.” He looked up, his gaze flickering between the stairs and the elevator.
“I don’t think I’ve ever known you to take a vacation,” Gumshoe muttered.
Please don’t start being smart right at this moment, Edgeworth thought.
“Well, good for you, pal! You deserve a break!”
Edgeworth let out a quiet breath of relief, heading over to the stairs with Gumshoe. He paused in the hallway, looking down at his bag. He was on the twelfth floor. He could… He could potentially carry it up one flight, just to get away from Gumshoe. “Thank you, Detective,” Edgeworth said at length, going to pick up his bag as Gumshoe turned away. He felt a sharp pain in his side, and put it back down. “Ah- Detective Gumshoe?”
“Yes, Sir?”
“Would you mind accompanying me to my office?” Edgeworth asked hesitantly, pushing the button to call for the elevator, “I’d like to know what I missed.”
Gumshoe tensed. He looked at the elevator, then Edgeworth. His gaze kept flickering back and forth, and he finally spoke, “Are you sure?”
Edgeworth took a deep breath as he heard the ding. He knew DL-6 was no secret to the police, but only those who had been in the courtroom on the day the trial occurred knew fully of what happened. Gumshoe just happened to be one of those who were present. He narrowed his gaze, standing straighter (and then immediately relaxing a little from the pain along his chest). His voice was steady, “Detective, I don’t ask things I don’t mean.”
“...Alright.”
Edgeworth walked into the elevator with Gumshoe, staying close to the doors. He pushed the button for the twelfth floor. Gumshoe glanced around awkwardly, and Edgeworth could piece together why. “So, what did I miss?” The elevator jolted a bit as it started to move, and Edgeworth gripped the railing, unaware his knuckles were going white.
Gumshoe immediately started to talk, trying to keep Edgeworth distracted from the box they were currently rising in. It wasn’t working, at first. And then, of course- “Of course, Mr. Wright came by a few times. I told him you were on leave, none of us knew how long, so he started comin’ by every day.”
“Wright came by?” Edgeworth asked, blinking slowly and focusing on Gumshoe. “Every day?”
“He wanted to know when you’d return, pal. Should I let him know-?”
“No, I’ll call him myself,” Edgeworth interrupted, nodding a bit. He can help me come back down. The elevator came to a stop, and Edgeworth’s gaze turned to the door, staring. Unless I die. Is it broken? Why isn’t it opening? Why did we stop? His gaze flickered to the floor number- twelfth floor. They need to open. Please don’t be broken.
“Mr. Edgeworth?”
“Yes?” Edgeworth’s voice was raised, his gaze shifting to the Detective.
Gumshoe opened his mouth to speak, and the doors opened. Edgeworth was out of the elevator within milliseconds, trying to calm himself down as he made his way to his office. Gumshoe stepped out, and put his foot in the elevator door, “Take care of yourself, Mr. Edgeworth. There are some documents on your desk to look at.”
“Okay. Thank you, Detective,” Edgeworth called over his shoulder, opening the door, stepping into his office, and closing it quickly. Safety.
Gumshoe rose an eyebrow, staring at the door for a moment before stepping back into the elevator and riding it down the twelve stories. He took out his phone.
Hey pal. Something happened to Mr. Edgeworth.
“Wright, I was just about to call you.” Edgeworth’s voice was filled with surprise as he answered the phone, just barely bringing his bag to his desk. He sat down carefully, leaning back a little, his eyes falling down to his chest. He reached up with his other hand, mostly to feel over his chest. His boob-less chest. Painful, but boob-less.
“I uh- I guess I beat you to it,” Wright chuckled, sounding… Nervous?
“What’s got you all fussed up?” Edgeworth asked, shifting to sit on one of his legs. He was alone. He could relax.
“Nevermind that. Where have you been?”
“Ah…” Edgeworth sighed a little, unaware of Phoenix’s panic from a certain text from a certain detective. “Don’t…” Don’t worry about me. Hm. “I’m sorry if I worried you,” He said instead, “I took a break from working.”
“Objection, Edgeworth, I’ve never known you to take a break from working,” Wright said quickly.
“Do you recall a few weeks prior, when I was… disturbed by something occurring?” Edgeworth asked, starting to play with one of the buttons on his shirt.
“Yeah.”
“I handled it. That’s all,” He said simply, “And… If I may be so open, I don’t think I’ve ever been happier about a decision I’ve made in my life.”
There was silence on the line. Edgeworth shifted again, anxieties filling him. "Truly?" Phoenix asked softly, "You're happy-? Er, okay?"
Edgeworth found himself chuckling a little. He wasn't sure entirely why- maybe it was the fact that Phoenix seemed concerned, which he found endearing; maybe it was the correction in his language, as Phoenix tried to dial down his expressions sometimes to not overwhelm Miles, which was also endearing. "I really am," Edgeworth murmured, glancing up at the clock on his desk. "Wright?"
"Yeah?"
"Would you meet me here, around 5PM?" Edgeworth found himself asking, going with his initial plan.
"Oh?"
Edgeworth could hear Phoenix's damn smirk through the line. "Yes, apparently you've been trying to see me during my absence," Edgeworth tattled casually, "So if you wish to see me, that would be a good time."
"Gumshoe," Phoenix muttered.
"Gumshoe indeed," Edgeworth hummed, and now it was his turn for his voice to carry the smirk.
"Stop smirking," Phoenix answered, but any aggression in the tone was lost as Phoenix laughed a little. Edgeworth ignored how his heart flipped at the sound. "I'll be there."
"Good," He said, his free hand letting go of the button on his vest, "Goodbye, then."
"Bye."
5PM literally could not get there faster, and at the same time it could not get there slower. Edgeworth had been anxious about it the entire day, wanting to just go home, but every time he thought about cancelling he remembered that he'd have to take the elevator home alone. So, he waited, doing as much work as he could in the meantime.
At 4:50PM, he heard a knock on his door. "Come in," He called, trying to write something down quickly before he forgot what it was.
The door opened, and Phoenix was standing there, tired expression melting away as he saw Edgeworth. The other man perked up as well, raising an eyebrow.
"What?"
"You look different," Phoenix said, looking over him.
Edgeworth had never experienced such sudden anxiety. He sucked in a breath, "What do you mean?"
"I mean you look better," Phoenix answered, "Like that vacation really was good for you. I don't think I've ever walked in here and not felt you radiating some sort of negative aura."
Edgeworth slowly exhaled, the anxiety washing away smoothly like the tide. How much he disliked when the waves rolled in, though. "I'll try not to take offense," He attempted to tease, leaning back in his chair. His heart was beating too fast.
"I-I mean you- you really do seem happier, Edgeworth," Phoenix answered. He put his hands on his pockets, rocking back on his heels. "Any particular reason you decided to schedule us meeting up?"
Edgeworth tensed. He glanced down at his rolling bag, then up at Phoenix.
He could… tell the half-truth, at least, right?
"My 'vacation' was recovering from a surgery, Wright," Edgeworth said slowly, voice quiet, "A rather intense one. I'm doing quite well, get that look off your face."
Phoenix walked closer, closing his mouth.
"As a result, I can't carry heavy items," Edgeworth continued, starting to busy himself with packing up his things. If he was doing something, and not just looking at Phoenix, it was easier to speak. "I have a rolling briefcase now, I assume you've noticed," He continued, "Which means… I can't take the stairs while I'm recovering."
Phoenix looked confused for a few moments before realization dawned on his face. "Do you want me to carry your bag?" He asked quietly.
"No, I wouldn't do that to you," Edgeworth chuckled, standing upright. He nearly lost balance, but Phoenix had grabbed his arm. He felt a blush rise and cleared his throat, grabbing the tall handle attached to his bag as Phoenix let go. "I…" Well, now it was hard to speak.
"I'll go with you," Phoenix answered, not needing to be asked.
Edgeworth nodded. No, that wasn't good enough. "Thank you," He said softly instead.
Phoenix nodded, and the two made their way out of the office, Edgeworth flicking off the lights and locking the door. They made their way down the hall, and Phoenix pushed the button, keeping his eyes on Edgeworth. Edgeworth's eyes were on the button. Shit.
The elevator dinged. "How'd you come up this morning?" Phoenix asked, stepping inside, and offering his hand to Edgeworth. The prosecutor would never ever admit it, but he took Phoenix's hand as he stepped in, and held onto it tightly as the doors closed.
"Um-" Edgeworth closed his eyes. That made it worse when the box jolted to life. He opened his eyes. "Gumshoe."
"Gumshoe?"
"He came up with me," Edgeworth said shortly.
Phoenix nodded. He spoke again quickly, "So you wanna hear about my day?"
Edgeworth shrugged a little, unaware he was holding Phoenix's hand a little tighter.
Phoenix fought to keep a blush from creeping up his neck, launching into stories of the day, which mostly involved Maya and Pearl. Edgeworth found himself smiling a little at certain parts in the story, and he'd turned to watch Phoenix instead of the rest of the elevator. He was so focused, he didn't realize the elevator stopped until the doors opened. He let go of Phoenix's hand, instantly regretting it, and sped out of the elevator onto actual, physical ground.
Phoenix walked out after, moving his hand back into his pocket, already missing Edgeworth's hand. "What time do you get in?"
"In the mornings?" Edgeworth asked, confused while he tried to recollect himself.
"Yeah. What time?"
"8AM, sharp," Edgeworth answered, raising an eyebrow.
Phoenix sighed dramatically… but he nodded. Edgeworth still looked confused. "Well, maybe I won't die on twelve flights of stairs carrying your heavy bag," Phoenix explained, "But I will sacrifice an hour of sleep for you- if, if you wanted me to, that is."
Edgeworth felt his heart speed up again. He must've been imagining the flush on Phoenix's face. "You don't have to," Came rushing out.
"I want to, so I'm asking for your permission more than anything," Phoenix clarified, knowing how Edgeworth liked to keep to himself. The prosecutor fell silent, and after a moment, he nodded. While Gumshoe had been good company, he had to admit, Phoenix was better at distracting him than the detective was. Phoenix smiled, "I'll see you at eight in the morning, then."
"I suppose so."
The two walked out of the office together, and Phoenix nodded, going to turn.
"Phoenix?"
"Huh?"
Edgeworth hated hugs. Or, he used to. The fear of someone feeling too much scared him, and he couldn't remember the last time he had gotten a proper hug from someone that wasn't Franziska. At that moment, the thing he wanted most was a hug from Phoenix.
… That was ridiculous.
He steeled his nerves, "Goodnight."
Phoenix smiled, "Goodnight."
And defense attorney and prosecuting attorney parted ways for the night.