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The case had been one of the more unbelievable ones he had ever been involved in. On top of all the intricacies and spirit mediums (the existence of which Edgeworth was still in denial of), he had somehow felt compelled to drop everything and speed off to Los Angeles, where he had ended up posing as a defence attorney for a girl he'd never met. It was unprofessional, hair-brained, and completely ridiculous, and there was only one individual capable of making him throw all sense of reason out the window and involve him in such a farce of a scheme.
He didn't know what had come over him, when Larry had called and told him that Phoenix Wright had fallen off a burning bridge , and straight into rapids no less. His mind went completely blank, he hung up the phone, and the next thing he knew he was in a hospital being informed that yes, Mr. Wright is fine, please try to calm down, sir. It was there, sitting in that creaky plastic hospital chair that he could finally allow himself to breathe and ask What are you doing, Miles? The answer was clear, yet completely nonsensical. Wright needs me. How, at the time, could he possibly have known? He wondered in retrospect if it was perhaps more that it was him who needed Wright. He couldn't risk losing him and feeling like he could have changed something, had he been there.
Luckily, Wright did, in fact, need him. When he looked at Edgeworth, passing his badge to him with a weak arm, with such unbelievable trust in his eyes, it was all he could do to not refuse. Those fierce eyes, he'd seen them before, when he sat alone behind the misty glass of the detention centre, and he felt his heart burn in the same way it had back then.
The trial had come to a close with a bittersweet conclusion, and Phoenix came to see him in his room at the Gatewater not long after. He remembered the face his friend had made when he'd noticed Edgeworth's small suitcase, neatly packed, waiting by the door.
"You're leaving again?"
"Did you expect me to stay? I didn't exactly plan to come here so soon in the first place."
Phoenix at least had the decency to look sheepish. Edgeworth hoped he wouldn't make falling off bridges a habit: chartering private jets wasn't exactly cheap, and he wasn't confident in his ability to resist the feeling of his heart dropping through his feet again.
"Still... is that really it? I mean, I appreciate everything you did, you could have lost your badge and everything but..." He trailed off. "Another goodbye already?"
It wasn't like Edgeworth didn't understand. He knew Miles Edgeworth chooses death had affected Phoenix, but he found it hard to apologise. At the time, Edgeworth really did think that's what he had chosen. And after their second reunion, after he'd explained as best as he could, attempting to console the friend who thought he'd died, he left for Europe once again, and his stunted goodbye clearly wasn't what Phoenix wanted to hear, even if he didn't voice it. Too many things were still left unsaid. But Edgeworth owed Phoenix for far more than the man probably realised. In fact, if he was being dramatic, he'd say that Phoenix had saved him, in multiple senses of the word.
"I really do have to go, Wright. I left without any warning and I can't just neglect my prosecutorial duties over there."
"Yeah, I know that but-"
"But I will come back. And... and I'll call. Or write. Or ... something."
He paused to inhale, refusing to look at Phoenix as he did so. Why was he so insufferably incapable at these sort of things? "But… I won't let it be the same as before." He hesitated. "... I promise."
After a brief pause, he felt a gentle warmth enclose him as Phoenix surrounded him in an embrace. Slightly unsure of himself, and slightly uncomfortable, Edgeworth leaned gingerly into the other man's arms. He heard Phoenix take a shaky breath and chuckle quietly before stepping back, leaving Edgeworth’s mind a little fuzzy.
"Thank you."
The burning feeling in his chest returned, and he reminded himself that he owed Phoenix at least this much. He owed it to himself, too.
~~~
The phone call he received a few months after his return to Europe was, to say the least, entirely unexpected.
"Edgeworth speaking."
The line was silent.
"...Hello?"
More silence. Just as Edgeworth was about to dismiss the call, he heard a person on the other end.
"...Miles..."
Edgeworth made a quiet noise of surprise. That voice and his first name were not things he tended to equate.
"Wright?"
No answer.
"...Phoenix?" he dared. "Is everything alright?"
A pause.
"...Miles, I..."
He heard Phoenix take a weighty breath down the line. They had kept in touch, like he promised, but he had never heard his friend sound so... unguarded. It seemed like his voice could break at any second. Edgeworth felt his stomach clench a little with concern and urged Phoenix to continue.
"I lost my badge."
Any words he may have said left his mind immediately. Edgeworth was not a religious man, but he prayed to the high heavens that he had heard Phoenix wrong, or he had simply misunderstood, or-
"I presented fake evidence."
"You... what?"
Edgeworth listened in stunned silence as Phoenix slowly and quietly explained what happened during Mr. Gramarye's trial. He felt himself feeling somewhat relieved at the knowledge that the fake evidence wasn't created by Phoenix (not that he would have ever suspected his friend of doing so, but it was a... delicate subject for him, after all), but that fact alone was a very small light in a very dark tunnel.
"You mean to say... someone framed you?"
"I... guess so."
Edgeworth felt his face blanche, and a spark of anger flared deep in his gut. Who could possibly hold such a grudge on Phoenix that they would try to get him disbarred? As Edgeworth listened to his friend's shaky voice, he felt his confusion and frustration building. Phoenix was not just a brilliant defence attorney who, despite his weird and wonderful methods, always pursued the truth, but he had also taught Edgeworth to do the same. And yet, someone had attempted to take everything he'd fought for away. He knew what it was like to hear the whispers of the rumour mill, to have them constantly nibble away at your life, and he could not allow Phoenix to go through the same.
But when his friend's voice finally cracked and he began to heave dry sobs down the receiver that sounded as though he had been holding them back for hours, Edgeworth suddenly felt completely and utterly out of his depth.
~~~
If Edgeworth thought the last call was unexpected, then nothing could have prepared him for what came a few weeks later.
"You're what?"
"Adopting her."
Edgeworth felt his head spin. Was nothing predictable about this man?
"Wright, do you really think you're in a financial position to do that?"
Let alone an emotional position, he thought. Could Phoenix really be expected to care for a child so abruptly? Phoenix sighed a little wearily down the line.
"Edgeworth, do you think I haven't thought about that? There's really no other option for her right now... or at least none I'm happy with."
Trust Wright to be the martyr. He wouldn't have expected any less from him, but he couldn't help feeling slightly exasperated.
"That's all well and good, but have you thought about yourself?"
"Trucy's a good kid. She's bright, and she's as much of a victim of this case as I am, when you think about it. And I think... she might be what I need right now, as well. You know, beacon of hope and all that. Keep me distracted from wallowing in self-pity."
Edgeworth scoffed, if a little sadly.
"I'm serious, Edgeworth. Her father's gone. We'll... get by somehow. I'll find another job, and I'll get her enrolled in school, and-"
"Wright. You understand you are opting to look after another person."
"I do."
"..."
If it had been anyone else, Edgeworth would have told them they were being ridiculous, that this would never work out, and that they should call the authorities immediately. But Phoenix wasn't just anyone else, and he could hardly expect to be able to convince him not to go through with his plan. Part of him, for whatever reason, didn't really want to, despite his better judgement. Perhaps it was the tiny voice inside his mind that reminded him of how much of himself he owed Phoenix, that he of all people should trust his decision. Edgeworth shut his eyes and leaned back in his chair.
"...Miles? Are you still there?"
If he was going to start paying Phoenix back, now was as good a time as any.
"Hold on. I'm booking a flight to L.A. right now."
~~~
When Edgeworth arrived, Phoenix may have been in better physical health than when he last whizzed off to America on his behalf, but the man was hardly at his best. He seemed to have given up on shaving, and the heavy bags under his eyes suggested sleep had not been coming easy to him. Even his spikes seemed limp, he noted mirthlessly.
He was introduced to Trucy, and found himself wondering if maybe Phoenix was right. She was young and innocent (as Edgeworth expected), and yet... there was something mature behind her eyes, as if she knew a little more than she let on. More than this, though, she was playful and bright even in the midst of what was possibly the darkest time in her life, and Edgeworth- despite her almost scaring the life out of him with that baffling contraption (what was it called? Mrs Hat?) -found it difficult to restrain a smile around her. When he heard her enthusiastically call to her new 'Daddy' that she’d managed to fool their visitor with a card trick, the man in question responded with a slightly nervous ruffle of the magician's hair, and Edgeworth found himself bolting another lock on the logical side of his brain. What a complete emotionalist this man- and by extension his new little family- made of him.
He offered financial help, but of course, Phoenix declined. We'll make it somehow, he kept on saying. I can't accept charity, Edgeworth. If only Phoenix knew of the guilt he felt twisting in his stomach as he stood there. Edgeworth had more than enough money to spare, and yet here he was, designer suit and all, watching as Phoenix Wright tried to piece his abruptly shattered life together. Edgeworth eventually relented, but on the condition that should Phoenix's situation get... dangerous, then he would accept his help. Phoenix seemed relatively content with this.
"You being here is enough for now," he had said. Edgeworth thought the notion was rather ridiculous, but ended up staying a few days longer than he intended anyway.
~~
Thankfully, the next time they met it was not as a result of something terrible happening to Phoenix Wright. Rather, Edgeworth wanted the man's help unravelling a case, so had invited him and his daughter to stay with him in London for a week or so. Phoenix had agreed with little convincing; he was hardly the type to turn down what would essentially be a free (working) holiday.
"What could you need from a lowly piano player like me?" Phoenix had teased over the phone.
"Hmph. You sell yourself short, Wright."
"You're wrong, I can't even play chopsticks," he replied, chuckling. "Nah, I'm just kidding. I'd be glad to come help. It would be nice for Trucy to have a holiday, after all- and before you say anything, I know it's a working visit, but don't you try telling me you expect us to sit around and look at case files for 9 days straight."
"We won't just be sitting around, we'll be investigating ."
Phoenix did have a point; maybe 9 days was a little bit of a stretch. Surely it was only logical for him to wish to make the most out of their reunion- it'd been quite a long time since they'd last met in person, despite their frequent phone calls. But he really did have a lot of work for them to do. Really.
Edgeworth found himself at the airport nearly an hour earlier than he had any reason to be. It was foolish of him, but his anticipation- or something of the sort- seemed to have driven him here. Miles huffed and glanced at his watch. Whatever it was, it was driving him up the walls.
When Phoenix's flight finally landed (he had almost pulled his hair out over the announcement of a measly 5 minute delay), he felt his heart leap a little at the sight of the man and his daughter emerging from arrivals, trundling suitcases behind them.
"UNCLE MILES!"
Before he could wonder when he had gained such a title, a tiny body had clamped herself around his legs (squeezing them with surprising ferocity for a girl who was only around 10, he noted). Miles patted Trucy bemusedly on the head and offered his greetings, but his attention was quickly diverted by the sound of a voice he hadn't heard without the muffling of a phone line in a very long time.
"Oi, Truce, don't just let go of your suitcase like that- Hey, Edgeworth!"
Phoenix quickly approached him and looked like he might have been going in for some sort of hug, before apparently realising his hands were otherwise occupied with the task of carrying two people's luggage. He settled on a slightly awkward shrug and a grin. Miles felt his stomach clench.
The man looked different. It was only to be suspected, after all. The bags under his eyes looked a little deeper set than usual, and his overly casual ensemble was rather interesting. He tried to force himself not to judge (it was hard, particularly with those sandals). But it didn't matter, really, because he was here, in one piece, and was the same man no matter what debatable fashion choices he made.
"Hello, Wright," Miles said with a small smile. "It's been a while."
~~~
5 days or so into their investigation, it seemed things were wrapping up nicely. After talking to a multitude of ridiculously uncooperative people and pouring over case file after case file, Miles was confident he could finally put a lid on this infuriatingly complex case and arrest the true culprit behind the operation.
Just as he hung up on his final call to the most talkative librarian he ever had the misfortune of encountering as a witness, he heard Trucy pipe up from the corner of the room that was currently swamped with documents.
“Hey… are you guys nearly done?” She prodded grimly at a large folder sitting on the table next to her. “This isn’t really much of a holiday yet.”
Phoenix looked up at Miles from his place on the couch. “Was that the librarian guy on the phone?” He chuckled. “He sure can talk.”
Miles grunted weakly in affirmation as he returned the hotel phone to its cradle. Phoenix laughed again.
“You know, Edgeworth, he was the last witness you had to talk to, right?’ he said, raising his eyebrows a little suggestively. Trucy perked up immediately at this comment and scurried over to where her father was sitting, an expectant grin on her face. He scooted over to make room for her. “So unless you’ve been hiding another witness from me, then I think it’s about time you show us arou-”
“No.”
“Huh?”
Miles gestured to his surroundings. “Have you seen the state of this place, Wright? We’re not going anywhere while it looks like such a tip.” He folded his arms when he noticed both Wrights were pouting at him. “And no, I will not be weakened by your puppy dog eyes this time.”
“Oh? Are you usually weakened by my puppy dog eyes?” said Phoenix, smirking. Damn his Freudian slip! Miles would have made a snarky retort, but instead could only gape like a fool. How had he been disarmed so easily by such an insolent comment?
“…Fine, let’s go,” he huffed, if only to provide an excuse to turn to face the door and hide his inexplicably flushed face. “But you are not leaving the cleaning to me.”
He had to let Wright win that one.
~~~
When they returned from their little sight-seeing trip, it was fairly late. Trucy had fervently demanded to look at everything in the near vicinity, and the only reason they’d got back to the hotel when they did was by reminding her they still had a few days left, and that London wasn’t going anywhere. Perhaps it was for the best, as Phoenix was beginning to look tired, although Miles wasn’t sure if that was his current perpetual state.
Just as he had unlocked his room and was about to bid the Wrights goodnight, he heard Phoenix telling Trucy to clean her teeth, get to bed, and not to worry because he’d be there in a bit. She nodded happily and gave her father a hug, before disappearing inside their room with a flourish. Miles felt a little puzzled, especially when Phoenix started to move towards him. He took his hat off and tucked it in his pocket.
“Wright?”
He didn’t realise just how often he thought of the man until he was once again standing in front of him. The thoughts that were always breezing through his mind; Phoenix waiting, smiling, greeting him- were all too tangible, real, and Miles found it somewhat overwhelming. Not unpleasant, though. Despite his disbarment as something of an omnipresent grey cloud, the sheer presence of Phoenix shone through brighter. He had missed him, obviously, but it felt like more than just reuniting with an old friend.
“Hey. Now the case is done with, I thought we could properly catch up for a bit? A grown-ups meeting,” he chuckled.
And yet, that’s what he was, wasn’t he? Phoenix was the friend he would never find the self-worth to warrant asking for. But somehow, atop all of this, he still managed to flare inside Miles’ mind; more, larger than life.
“I would be glad to.”
They talked for a long time, on the sofa in Miles’ room. About everything. Both were tired, but refused to give in to sleep, continuing way past the hand of the noisy wall clock passing 4. When Phoenix finally caved and nodded off, Miles delicately laid one of the hotel blankets over him and retreated to his bed. The thick sheets were stifling, and yet his body still felt impossibly cold.
~~~
The jurist system was a success. Phoenix’s innocence had been proven, the extent of Gavin’s crimes had been revealed, and those seven years of poker playing and ever-present shadows had finally come to a close. He had seen it reported on the news, but Phoenix called to tell him all the same. When he hung up, he let himself cry.
~~~
November was beginning to roll around, bringing with it warm leaves and cold air. Miles found comfort in the feeling of sitting at his desk with a cup of tea, watching the crisp evening slowly darken into night. It was so unlike the thick nights of summer, and it allowed him to fully appreciate the warmth and comfort of his house.
His mind drifted to Phoenix, as it often did when he sat and just listened to his thoughts. Despite him having to pull a fair few strings here and there, he had recently made a blazing return to the legal world, even if his first case was a little ridiculous. Very ridiculous. But it really couldn’t have been anything else, not for Phoenix Wright.
And then there was him; Chief Prosecutor. Titles didn’t mean much to him, and he felt no pride in the prestige it brought with it, but instead was lifted by the responsibility and promise of change for the law that it allowed him to bring. He briefly wondered what Von Karma would think of it all, before dismissing the thought. That Edgeworth was gone, now. The ghosts of his past had faded into white scars; ever there, but no longer at the forefront of his mind.
He took a sip of tea. Herbal, very good blend.
He really did owe everything to him. It was quite astonishing, really. Not as though Miles hadn’t done anything for himself; no, he knew quite well what he’d achieved. But he couldn’t have done it if Phoenix wasn’t there, the spark that started his flames of change. Now he had returned to America, he got to see him a lot more regularly- if Miles wanted, he could go out and see him now. He wouldn’t, obviously; it was already seven in the evening, but the notion still made his heart warm, and he smiled. He was doing that a lot more lately. The thought just made it wider.
Already seven in the evening. It wasn’t that late, was it? Too late to arrange something now, surely.
He sipped his tea again- really, it was a fantastic blend, Jasmine was a wonder- before he was faced with an empty cup. He stared at the small collection of dregs at the bottom.
It couldn’t hurt, could it? What if he’d already eaten? But, there really wasn’t anything to lose; he was sure he wouldn’t just say no…
But, even so...
My God, Miles. You’re thirty five. Live a little.
He set down the empty cup and picked up his phone, scrolling down to the contact he probably called the most, these days. The small candid Trucy snapped smiled up at him as always, and he dialled hastily before his reason could get the better of him.
“Hey, Edgeworth, what’s up? Is everything okay?”
He took a breath. Miles Edgeworth could have his moments of spontaneity, too.
“Do you want to go to dinner? Now?”
~~~
Thankfully, Phoenix hadn’t eaten, and had happily agreed to Miles’ proposal, even if he had found it quite unexpected. Even more thankfully, Trucy was at a sleepover, so neither of them had to worry about her. The stars had aligned for him today, apparently.
They had decided, rather than going out, to have a simple meal at his house, which he began to cook before Phoenix arrived. He prepared the table meticulously, even setting out a candle (he had picked it up recently; he thought the scent was quite homely). Phoenix seemed somewhat flattered by his efforts, if a little amused. He looked happy, though, as they ate, which was the most important thing.
“Why this so suddenly, though?” he said through a mouthful of spaghetti “Did you have something you wanted to talk about? Oh- oops.”
Miles shot him a look and passed him a serviette to wipe the sauce he somehow managed to splatter on the edge of his shirt. Phoenix grinned and Miles rolled his eyes, but he was also smiling. He took the time to consider the question, supposing there wasn’t any real reason he’d asked him here.
“No, nothing like that. I just- wanted to see you, I suppose.”
Obviously something had driven him to do it, but he couldn’t really just go and say it out loud. Phoenix set the serviette down and chewed in silence for a moment.
“Miles,” he said abruptly, meeting his eyes. “Is this a date?”
The world froze.
A date.
His head spun, and every thought he’d had about Phoenix this evening, this year, ever , flashed in his mind.
A date. That would explain a lot.
A piece of spaghetti slid slowly off his fork. It hit the plate with a quiet splat, easing the world back into motion.
“....Yes, I suppose it is,” he said, honestly.
Phoenix gaped at him. The few seconds in which he seemed to comprehend what he’d just heard were the longest of Miles’ life.
Then, suddenly, he began to giggle, before escalating into full blown laughter. Miles’ felt quite lost, but couldn’t help noting how much he liked the sound. Loved the sound. Oh God, a date.
“Why didn’t you say? Instead of inviting me out so mysteriously- I had no idea!”
“Well I- I don’t think I was aware I was inviting you on a date until just now…”
Phoenix laughed even harder, before making an attempt at forcing himself to stop. He was smiling hugely, and the light behind his eyes was so bright, brighter than he’d ever seen. His laughter was apparently contagious, because soon Miles found himself chuckling as well, and Phoenix’s face softened.
“Why don’t you do it now? You know, properly.”
He lifted his hand and placed it gently on top of Miles’, which was resting on the table. He was shaking a little, and Miles wondered if he was as nervous as he was.
“...Do you want to go out- that is, do you want to go on a date? With me?”
Phoenix’s chest swelled, and he looked like he might cry.
“Of course,” he said, leaning in slowly. “Of course.”
Miles wasn’t sure how all this happened so suddenly, but when Phoenix closed the gap between them and tentatively kissed him, the taste of spaghetti sauce and the feeling of his smile against his lips, he couldn't help feeling it was long overdue.