FIC: Coming Home, Miles/Phoenix, PG-13
May. 12th, 2008 09:10 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cloudy_ficTitle: Coming Home
Author: CloudyJenn
Fandom: Phoenix Wright
Pairings: Miles/Phoenix
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me. I am making no profit from this fanfiction.
Beta: None
Warnings: None
Summary: The prompt asked, in part, for Miles thinking Phoenix had died and then finding him again. They also wanted 'manly tears'. ;)
Author's Notes: I couldn't find any reason/reference for Miles' dog being named 'Pess', so I made up a silly reason
When Phoenix dies, Miles returns to Germany.
Strange really, when he thinks about it, as he does from time to time, that he finds comfort in the one place in his past he'd wanted to escape most. But as soon as he finds out the news, he's on a plane to Berlin and the next thing he knows he's walking up the long lonely stretch of stone steps to Von Karma's abandoned manner house. Grand and stately in its heyday, the house has succumbed to age. It fills him with an odd sense of foreboding to see the window shutters hanging askew, the missing shingles and the garden overgrown with weeds, but as soon as he steps through the heavy oaken front door, he feels relieved.
It's then when he remembers how to be in complete control.
As he walks down the front hall, creating thick clouds of dust with each step, Miles hears Von Karma's voice echoing in his ears.
Straighten up, boy. Hold your head up. No ward of mine will be seen with shameful tears. Stupid boy, don't you know they make you worthless?
Miles welcomes every word.
It doesn't take him long to find the old bedroom where he'd slept and dreamt in the years of his youth. To his surprise, the room is exactly the same as it had been when Miles left. The narrow uncomfortable bed under the window of dark glass, a writing desk the corner beside a huge bookshelf filled with law manuals, even the little ceramic pitcher and tub where Miles washed up every morning. He sits on the bed, stretches out and pulls the crumpled paper from the front pocket of his coat. He doesn't need to look at the words. Not anymore.
The exact phrasing of Phoenix's death certificate are burned in his mind forever.
No room for tears anymore though, not in this house. With careful precision, Miles rips the paper in halves and then once again. Everything he's been feeling comes apart with each tear, withers to nothing and then disappears. A moment later, Miles smiles at the ceiling and laughs as the pieces rain down around him.
The very next day, Miles begins to clean the old house, from top to bottom, leaving no bit of dust behind. He fixes or replaces each piece of broken furniture, washes every dish in the house and takes care of having the utilities turned back on. Within a week, the house looks exactly as it did when Miles was a child. Except his childhood room. Miles doesn't return there, leaves the pieces of Phoenix's death certificate littering the one place where Miles had ever allowed himself to let go.
He sleeps in the guest room.
Two weeks after he arrives, Miles is employed in downtown Berlin. It's hard to get used to the different law system, even the different language. His German is rustier than he likes to admit, but in time, he's back on top of his game, winning nearly every case that comes his way and garnering quite a name for himself. Every now and again, when he looks across the court room, Miles is startled by what he doesn't see and each time it happens, he spends the evening in his study, back ramrod straight, reading and reading. Filling his mind as much as he can to push out what no longer belongs there.
Time passes so slowly, Miles doesn't notice it slipping through his fingers, not even as months and years flow past him, around him. Sometimes a pretty hopeful young girl will look his way and bat her eyes and the only reason Miles sees is because he's been trained to see everything. Sometimes it's a pretty young man and Miles is so tempted, so very tempted to give in and take a little pleasure for himself. But he's worked hard to relearn the control Phoenix stole so completely from him. He won't let it happen again.
It is empty though, too empty in the house. Miles is still used to it being filled with Von Karma's booming voice or Franziska's, echoing her opinions on 'fools' down each hallway. So, even though they're messy and stupid, Miles buys a dog. Because they're also obedient and easily trained. The dog is a beagle, with insufferable floppy ears and an always wagging tail. Miles names the dog Pest, which ends up coming out "Pess" most of the time. The first time the dog jumps into his lap, bright dark eyes smiling and eager, he almost takes him back to the store. But then Pess turns in two circles, lays down on his lap and falls asleep. It's warm, so Miles gives him another chance.
They war with each other. Miles knows it's stupid, but he can't help himself. Somehow, he has managed to find the most stubborn dog in all Germany. Pess likes sleeping in Miles big comfortable bed while Miles would prefer he sleep outside in the doghouse he built for him. Pess would rather have scraps from the table even though Miles spends exorbinant prices for elegant dog food. Pess doesn't like to bark unless it's 3 in the morning.
But in the end, Pess is helpful too. No one he works with would ever expect that Miles performs better in court when he's had a change to present his case to Pess' jury of one.
Before he knows it, Pess is four years old and seven years have passed since he moved back to Germany. In all the time Miles been going to work each day and returning home to his beagle each night, he's never seen anyone from his old life. So, to say he's surprised when he walks into his office one morning and sees Maya Fey waiting for him would not begin to cover it.
"M-miss Fey?" He hasn't stuttered in years.
Maya stands from her chair, graceful and elegant, and for a moment, Miles sees Mia's image, like a double exposure. And then Maya speaks.
"Not that you'd care because you're still busy in the throes of your uncalled for hissy fit, but Phoenix needs your help."
"I...what?" It hits him hard, terror and hope rolled into one because Maya's a spirit medium and god, what if she's channeled Phoenix? "Phoenix?" he asks faintly. The dread of seeing him again and knowing he's only a ghost, barely held to this world by the skills of this young woman, flimsy and fleeting scares the hell out of Miles. Except maybe...maybe he could tell him finally, all the things he regrets, everything he desires. That he's sorry Phoenix died alone, without him and that he's sorry the last thing they did was fight. That he loves him and no amount of pretend control can stop how powerfully he misses him. "You channeled Phoenix?"
Maya's expression changes, from haughty anger to worried confusion. "Noo," she says slowly. "I called him." She holds out her little pink cell and shakes it. "You know, on the phone? Not quite the same kind of magic, but its useful."
Now Miles is the one who's angry. Even Maya, one of Phoenix's closest friends, doesn't have the right to tease him like that. "That's not nice, Miss Fey," he says in a glacial tone, brushing past her to get to his office door. "If you've come all the way to Europe to be a brat, you've wasted a lot of time and money. I've no time for it." His words make him wince because he sounds like Von Karma. I've no time for this nonsense, boy, get out of my sight. He shoves the key in the lock and wrenches the door open.
"Brat?" she squeaks, her rage returned. She follows him through the door, voice raising with each word. "You're the one who's a brat! You and Phoenix have one stupid fight and poof, you're gone? It's been seven years, Miles Edgeworth. I don't give a damn what you fought about. Phoenix's suffered without you, god knows why."
She's not making any sense. Miles turns around slowly, briefcase hanging from two fingers, lips parted. He feels tension creeping up his spine, feels something dark building deep inside him. "You talk about Phoenix as if he were still alive," he says, monotone, afraid to give the words any emotion. Maya stares at him and for a long painful moment, neither of them speaks. And then one of her small white hands flutters to her mouth.
"Oh god...Oh god, Miles..." She comes forward, into his space and he steps back because its too much. He hits the desk, his briefcase falls away and he's terrified to hear what she says next. "Oh god, Miles, Phoenix is alive. He's alive, Miles, I just saw him yesterday."
He doesn't realize he's slumping, sliding down the side of the desk, until he sees Maya crouching in front of him, feels her delicate hands cupping his face. Her eyes are filled with some emotion he can't recognize, can't understand. Her mouth is moving and though he can't hear her words, he can see her shaping the same one over and over.
Alive. Alive. Alive.
"No," he whispers. Maya wipes at something on his face. Tears? He shakes his head. "No, it's a trick. It can't be."
"I promise you. Cross my heart and hope..." Her eyes widen and suddenly Miles is laughing because it's so ridiculous. As if that could hurt now. As if anything could hurt now. Phoenix is alive. Alive and well and Miles has wasted so many years, wrapped up in his cold past with only a stupid useless dog that loved him almost as stupidly as Phoenix had. Does.
"Where?" he croaks. "What's happened?"
"He's still in Los Angeles. It's awful, Miles. He's been disbarred and he's on trial for murder!"
In the next second, he's on his feet and pacing back and forth through his office. "Murder? That's patently absurd. Phoenix is too stupid to murder someone," Miles says. He can insult Phoenix now because he's alive and even though it's not the best he's ever come up with, it feels good. "Tell me exactly what's going on."
It takes Maya a good thirty minutes to fill Miles in and the whole time, he's packing up his things. The only interruption comes when he calls his boss to tell him he's quitting his job and leaving the country. He hears the man squawk on the other line right before he hangs up the phone and he doesn't feel a shred of guilt. Another call arranges two seats on the next flight to America, leaving Miles just enough time to gather his dog and a few posessions. Maya is still talking beside him as he strides to his car and when she climbs in after him, he doesn't object.
Pess is confused and cranky when Miles stuffs him into his carrier. "Shut it, you," he says through the mesh front. "We're going to get our life back." The last thing he does before leaving the house for good is gather up the remnants of Phoenix's fake death certificate, mind racing as he begins to put the pieces together in his mind. Maya is still standing in the front yard, staring up at the huge house when Miles comes out.
"Hold this," he says and hands her Pess. Her cooing lasts all the way to the airport and normally Miles would complain, but he doesn't hear any of it. His mind is going in all directions. Who gave him the fake death certificate? How can he help prove Phoenix's innocence? Dear god, what will he say to Phoenix when he finally sees him again?
Maya sleeps almost all the way back, but Miles can't. He sits in his plush first class chair, foot tapping a perfect rhythm against the floor. It's been three hours since he found out and all other thoughts have finally faded away to just Phoenix. Phoenix's face, his scent, his silly pointy hair. Miles can almost feel Phoenix pressed against him, lets himself revel in the memory like he never has in all seven years he thought him dead. He didn't realize, not until then, how empty his arms were, how much he missed Phoenix's warm sweet lips covering his own.
The flight is endless.
It feels like a minor miracle when they finally land. As soon as the flight attendants allow it, Miles is out of his seat and off the plane, Maya trailing behind, demanding that he slow down. But he can't because he has to see Phoenix before something bad happens again. Has to see him and touch him with his own hands before he'll completely believe it. A rental car is waiting and Miles breaks every traffic law he can think of without caring a bit. When he bursts through the police department's front doors, Eme Skye squeaks and drops the Snackoos she's holding.
"Mr. Edgeworth! Where've you-"
"Phoenix," he interrupts her. "I need to see Phoenix."
"Phoenix? He's not here. He's at home."
Miles gapes. "I thought he was on trial."
She grins. "Trial's over. Phoenix's innocent."
"Of course he is!" Maya says, bouncing in place. Miles glares at her.
"I thought you said he needed my help."
She has the decency to look chagrined. "Well, I thought he might need your help. And besides, he's still disbarred. Are you actually angry that you know the truth?"
Of course Miles isn't. He could kiss Maya if the thought wasn't practically obscene. He just shakes his head sharply and goes back to the car. It's better this way. This way there won't be a glass between them, won't be anything between them and Miles can touch him, kiss him. Hold him.
Miles remembers what Maya told him in Germany about how Phoenix is living now, what he's doing with his life, but it's still strange to see the new sign hanging over his office. He even knows to expect a fifteen year old girl to be sitting on the front steps, but it doesn't stop the oddity of it or really, the oddity of her. Miles thinks to himself that only Phoenix would bring home a teenager in a top hat to live with him. When he steps from the car, the girl stands up and puts her hands on her hips.
"I know you. You're the fink."
It's hard to resist the urge to close his eyes and count to ten. "Is Wright here?"
"Like I'm going to tell the fink," she says, defiant. Miles wants to shake her, but he doesn't want to start a fight with Phoenix right off the bat. "Stop calling me that. I'm not a fink." He starts to move past her, but the girl gets in his path, eyes flashing.
"I'm not going to let you waltz in here and hurt him again," she insists, feet planted squarely, body held tense, ready to fight. There's no time for this. Miles has had seven years and thirty more seconds is too long.
"Please get out of my way. I'm not hurting anyone. I need to speak with him," he says, only just barely keeping the rage he's beginning to feel. All those years and Miles is being stopped by a kid he's too polite to punch.
"Maybe he doesn't want-"
"Trucy?"
Miles freezes in place. That voice brings floods of memories, crashing over him, through him. Court cases and heated arguments in lobbies, late night discussions that turned from work to more personal things and later, long evenings spent in bed, curled around each other. It's almost painful to look up, but Miles does. Looks up and sees that handsome face filled with shock and ill-disguised longing.
"Miles?" He looks so different. His outlandish hair hidden under a bright blue hat, chin covered in days worth of stubble, clad in a gray hooded sweatshirt and black pants. It's untidy, out of character and absolutely perfect.
"Phoenix." Miles' voice is low and gravelly, surprising. "I..." But he doesn't have any idea what to say.
"I told him to clear off, Daddy, but he won't go," the girl-Trucy-says. It cuts through Miles like a knife. Phoenix's baby girl, not his and it's wrong, it hurts.
"Go on upstairs, Trucy," Phoenix says. Even his voice sounds different. Calmer, deeper. "I want to speak with Mr. Edgeworth alone."
Trucy makes a face, but she obeys, flinging a baleful look at Miles before retreating into the office building. Miles expects Phoenix to yell at him, accuse him, anything, but instead he turns and holds out a hand. "Won't you come in?" he asks, formal. Miles winces, but he nods. They turn and walk into the building. It still smells the same after all this time, like work and home and Phoenix. Miles takes a deep breath, trying to calm his desire to wrap his arms around Phoenix and gather him close.
"So I take it you heard about the case," Phoenix says once they're inside, his back turned to Miles. It makes Miles think of all the times he peppered that same back with kisses, all the times he pressed his chest close against it while they made love. "I won, so there's really no need to worry about it." His voice is distant. Dead. Miles feels himself come apart at the seams.
"Fuck the case," Miles growls. He strides over to Phoenix, wraps a hand around his upper arm and whirls him around. "You...you..." Loss and love, anger and relief slam together, mixing and whirling inside him. "You..." He falls forward, his forehead crashing against Phoenix's collar and once again, he feels himself sliding down. "Oh god, Phoenix, you're here," he whispers, too upset to feel shame at his breakdown. "You're alive." His arms wind around Phoenix waist, he presses his cheek against Phoenix's stomach. "You're here," he says again. He feels wetness on his face though he doesn't remember beginning to cry.
"Miles?" Phoenix's hands pet helplessly at his hair. "Miles, what...?" Miles feels strong arms wrap around his shoulders. "Of course I'm here, where else would I...oh." His voice is hushed, his realization obvious and then he's pushing Miles back. Miles begins to protest until he realizes that Phoenix has slid down to his knees as well and is wrapping himself up in Miles like he'd never left. "Yes, yes, no I'm here. Why did you think...? Oh my god, no, I thought...but you thought...Oh god, Miles, how did...?"
The only way to shut him up is to kiss him, so Miles does. Kisses him long and hard and with seven years to make up for, it's only a start. He deepens the kiss almost immediately, tasting him and when he hears a moaning sound, he's not sure if its him or Phoenix. The kiss only ends when Phoenix pushes him away, though he looks reluctant to do so.
"Miles, what happened? Why did you think I was dead?"
Miles reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small bag with the pieces of the forged death certificate. "Someone sent me this. It's...it's your death certificate." He pauses. He doesn't want to bring this up, but he has to. "While I was in San Francisco after...after we fought."
Phoenix stares at the bag. "I don't understand. Who...?"
Miles swallows hard. "It was from...it said it was Detective Gumshoe," he says, feeling wretched. How could he have believed it? "After I left, I just...it was stupid, I just wanted to be away for awhile, just a week and then this came and I couldn't...I couldn't come back and see everyone." His shame finally hits, deep and consuming. "I ran away."
Phoenix takes the bag, his eyes still fixed on it. "Someone wanted you to think I was dead," he says, momentarily glossing over Miles' confession. His eyes lose focus as he thinks, then Miles sees him realize something, sees a knowing light enter his eyes.
"What?"
"I don't know...I mean...this murder trial and my...my being disbarred." He looks up into Miles' eyes. "Someone wants to ruin me completely."
It boggles Miles. Why anyone would feel such hatred against this man, this man who's never done anything but help anyone he comes across. "I don't understand," he whispers. Phoenix shakes his head.
"It doesn't matter." A pause and then he corrects himself. "It doesn't matter right now anyway. I'll..." Another stop, then something akin to joy lights Phoenix's beautiful dark brown eyes. "We'll figure it out." Miles feels Phoenix's hands press against his back, pulling him closer. "I missed you so much, Miles," he confesses, sounding a lot more like the young kid Miles remembers meeting all those years ago. Miles wants to fall into his arms, wants to get lost in Phoenix's touch, but he can't. Not yet.
"I'm so sorry," he says quietly, making himself look Phoenix in the eye. "I'm so sorry I didn't come back and make sure. It was just too...when I read that paper, I lost it, Phoenix." He laughs, but it's not happy sounding at all. "I went back to Germany and lived in Von Karma's house." Phoenix's shock is hard to look at, so Miles carries on before he can speak. "I got a dog and I talked to it like it was you."
Phoenix doesn't speak. Miles can see him biting the inside of his mouth.
"What?" he asks, defensive. Phoenix dissolves into what can only be called giggles.
"A dog? Geez, Miles, you really did lose it," he laughs against Miles' chest and Miles would be indignant, but they've wasted too much time on that, so he just punishes him the only way that seems proper. By giving his bum a good hard pinch.
"Ouch!" Phoenix yelps and he smacks Miles on the chest. The moment of lightness does wonders for Miles. He feels something heavy lifting from his chest, something oppressive that feels very much like guilt.
"I'm sorry," he says, except he's not talking about the pinching. "I am sorry, Phoenix," he says again and wraps his arms around him, burying his face in Phoenix's neck. "I shouldn't have left and I should've come back." The memories of what they fought about come rushing back to Miles and he adds. "And I would really love to move in with you."
Phoenix snorts and kisses the top of his head. "I should say so."
It's going to be alright, Miles realizes, as he takes another deep breath, only this time Phoenix's scent is strong, intoxicating. "I love you," he hears himself say, though he doesn't remember planning to say it. And then he hears it again. "I love you so much."
Warm gentle hands rub up and down his back, bringing comfort and desire in equal measures. "I know." He presses a kiss against Miles neck. "I love you too."
Author: CloudyJenn
Fandom: Phoenix Wright
Pairings: Miles/Phoenix
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me. I am making no profit from this fanfiction.
Beta: None
Warnings: None
Summary: The prompt asked, in part, for Miles thinking Phoenix had died and then finding him again. They also wanted 'manly tears'. ;)
Author's Notes: I couldn't find any reason/reference for Miles' dog being named 'Pess', so I made up a silly reason
When Phoenix dies, Miles returns to Germany.
Strange really, when he thinks about it, as he does from time to time, that he finds comfort in the one place in his past he'd wanted to escape most. But as soon as he finds out the news, he's on a plane to Berlin and the next thing he knows he's walking up the long lonely stretch of stone steps to Von Karma's abandoned manner house. Grand and stately in its heyday, the house has succumbed to age. It fills him with an odd sense of foreboding to see the window shutters hanging askew, the missing shingles and the garden overgrown with weeds, but as soon as he steps through the heavy oaken front door, he feels relieved.
It's then when he remembers how to be in complete control.
As he walks down the front hall, creating thick clouds of dust with each step, Miles hears Von Karma's voice echoing in his ears.
Straighten up, boy. Hold your head up. No ward of mine will be seen with shameful tears. Stupid boy, don't you know they make you worthless?
Miles welcomes every word.
It doesn't take him long to find the old bedroom where he'd slept and dreamt in the years of his youth. To his surprise, the room is exactly the same as it had been when Miles left. The narrow uncomfortable bed under the window of dark glass, a writing desk the corner beside a huge bookshelf filled with law manuals, even the little ceramic pitcher and tub where Miles washed up every morning. He sits on the bed, stretches out and pulls the crumpled paper from the front pocket of his coat. He doesn't need to look at the words. Not anymore.
The exact phrasing of Phoenix's death certificate are burned in his mind forever.
No room for tears anymore though, not in this house. With careful precision, Miles rips the paper in halves and then once again. Everything he's been feeling comes apart with each tear, withers to nothing and then disappears. A moment later, Miles smiles at the ceiling and laughs as the pieces rain down around him.
The very next day, Miles begins to clean the old house, from top to bottom, leaving no bit of dust behind. He fixes or replaces each piece of broken furniture, washes every dish in the house and takes care of having the utilities turned back on. Within a week, the house looks exactly as it did when Miles was a child. Except his childhood room. Miles doesn't return there, leaves the pieces of Phoenix's death certificate littering the one place where Miles had ever allowed himself to let go.
He sleeps in the guest room.
Two weeks after he arrives, Miles is employed in downtown Berlin. It's hard to get used to the different law system, even the different language. His German is rustier than he likes to admit, but in time, he's back on top of his game, winning nearly every case that comes his way and garnering quite a name for himself. Every now and again, when he looks across the court room, Miles is startled by what he doesn't see and each time it happens, he spends the evening in his study, back ramrod straight, reading and reading. Filling his mind as much as he can to push out what no longer belongs there.
Time passes so slowly, Miles doesn't notice it slipping through his fingers, not even as months and years flow past him, around him. Sometimes a pretty hopeful young girl will look his way and bat her eyes and the only reason Miles sees is because he's been trained to see everything. Sometimes it's a pretty young man and Miles is so tempted, so very tempted to give in and take a little pleasure for himself. But he's worked hard to relearn the control Phoenix stole so completely from him. He won't let it happen again.
It is empty though, too empty in the house. Miles is still used to it being filled with Von Karma's booming voice or Franziska's, echoing her opinions on 'fools' down each hallway. So, even though they're messy and stupid, Miles buys a dog. Because they're also obedient and easily trained. The dog is a beagle, with insufferable floppy ears and an always wagging tail. Miles names the dog Pest, which ends up coming out "Pess" most of the time. The first time the dog jumps into his lap, bright dark eyes smiling and eager, he almost takes him back to the store. But then Pess turns in two circles, lays down on his lap and falls asleep. It's warm, so Miles gives him another chance.
They war with each other. Miles knows it's stupid, but he can't help himself. Somehow, he has managed to find the most stubborn dog in all Germany. Pess likes sleeping in Miles big comfortable bed while Miles would prefer he sleep outside in the doghouse he built for him. Pess would rather have scraps from the table even though Miles spends exorbinant prices for elegant dog food. Pess doesn't like to bark unless it's 3 in the morning.
But in the end, Pess is helpful too. No one he works with would ever expect that Miles performs better in court when he's had a change to present his case to Pess' jury of one.
Before he knows it, Pess is four years old and seven years have passed since he moved back to Germany. In all the time Miles been going to work each day and returning home to his beagle each night, he's never seen anyone from his old life. So, to say he's surprised when he walks into his office one morning and sees Maya Fey waiting for him would not begin to cover it.
"M-miss Fey?" He hasn't stuttered in years.
Maya stands from her chair, graceful and elegant, and for a moment, Miles sees Mia's image, like a double exposure. And then Maya speaks.
"Not that you'd care because you're still busy in the throes of your uncalled for hissy fit, but Phoenix needs your help."
"I...what?" It hits him hard, terror and hope rolled into one because Maya's a spirit medium and god, what if she's channeled Phoenix? "Phoenix?" he asks faintly. The dread of seeing him again and knowing he's only a ghost, barely held to this world by the skills of this young woman, flimsy and fleeting scares the hell out of Miles. Except maybe...maybe he could tell him finally, all the things he regrets, everything he desires. That he's sorry Phoenix died alone, without him and that he's sorry the last thing they did was fight. That he loves him and no amount of pretend control can stop how powerfully he misses him. "You channeled Phoenix?"
Maya's expression changes, from haughty anger to worried confusion. "Noo," she says slowly. "I called him." She holds out her little pink cell and shakes it. "You know, on the phone? Not quite the same kind of magic, but its useful."
Now Miles is the one who's angry. Even Maya, one of Phoenix's closest friends, doesn't have the right to tease him like that. "That's not nice, Miss Fey," he says in a glacial tone, brushing past her to get to his office door. "If you've come all the way to Europe to be a brat, you've wasted a lot of time and money. I've no time for it." His words make him wince because he sounds like Von Karma. I've no time for this nonsense, boy, get out of my sight. He shoves the key in the lock and wrenches the door open.
"Brat?" she squeaks, her rage returned. She follows him through the door, voice raising with each word. "You're the one who's a brat! You and Phoenix have one stupid fight and poof, you're gone? It's been seven years, Miles Edgeworth. I don't give a damn what you fought about. Phoenix's suffered without you, god knows why."
She's not making any sense. Miles turns around slowly, briefcase hanging from two fingers, lips parted. He feels tension creeping up his spine, feels something dark building deep inside him. "You talk about Phoenix as if he were still alive," he says, monotone, afraid to give the words any emotion. Maya stares at him and for a long painful moment, neither of them speaks. And then one of her small white hands flutters to her mouth.
"Oh god...Oh god, Miles..." She comes forward, into his space and he steps back because its too much. He hits the desk, his briefcase falls away and he's terrified to hear what she says next. "Oh god, Miles, Phoenix is alive. He's alive, Miles, I just saw him yesterday."
He doesn't realize he's slumping, sliding down the side of the desk, until he sees Maya crouching in front of him, feels her delicate hands cupping his face. Her eyes are filled with some emotion he can't recognize, can't understand. Her mouth is moving and though he can't hear her words, he can see her shaping the same one over and over.
Alive. Alive. Alive.
"No," he whispers. Maya wipes at something on his face. Tears? He shakes his head. "No, it's a trick. It can't be."
"I promise you. Cross my heart and hope..." Her eyes widen and suddenly Miles is laughing because it's so ridiculous. As if that could hurt now. As if anything could hurt now. Phoenix is alive. Alive and well and Miles has wasted so many years, wrapped up in his cold past with only a stupid useless dog that loved him almost as stupidly as Phoenix had. Does.
"Where?" he croaks. "What's happened?"
"He's still in Los Angeles. It's awful, Miles. He's been disbarred and he's on trial for murder!"
In the next second, he's on his feet and pacing back and forth through his office. "Murder? That's patently absurd. Phoenix is too stupid to murder someone," Miles says. He can insult Phoenix now because he's alive and even though it's not the best he's ever come up with, it feels good. "Tell me exactly what's going on."
It takes Maya a good thirty minutes to fill Miles in and the whole time, he's packing up his things. The only interruption comes when he calls his boss to tell him he's quitting his job and leaving the country. He hears the man squawk on the other line right before he hangs up the phone and he doesn't feel a shred of guilt. Another call arranges two seats on the next flight to America, leaving Miles just enough time to gather his dog and a few posessions. Maya is still talking beside him as he strides to his car and when she climbs in after him, he doesn't object.
Pess is confused and cranky when Miles stuffs him into his carrier. "Shut it, you," he says through the mesh front. "We're going to get our life back." The last thing he does before leaving the house for good is gather up the remnants of Phoenix's fake death certificate, mind racing as he begins to put the pieces together in his mind. Maya is still standing in the front yard, staring up at the huge house when Miles comes out.
"Hold this," he says and hands her Pess. Her cooing lasts all the way to the airport and normally Miles would complain, but he doesn't hear any of it. His mind is going in all directions. Who gave him the fake death certificate? How can he help prove Phoenix's innocence? Dear god, what will he say to Phoenix when he finally sees him again?
Maya sleeps almost all the way back, but Miles can't. He sits in his plush first class chair, foot tapping a perfect rhythm against the floor. It's been three hours since he found out and all other thoughts have finally faded away to just Phoenix. Phoenix's face, his scent, his silly pointy hair. Miles can almost feel Phoenix pressed against him, lets himself revel in the memory like he never has in all seven years he thought him dead. He didn't realize, not until then, how empty his arms were, how much he missed Phoenix's warm sweet lips covering his own.
The flight is endless.
It feels like a minor miracle when they finally land. As soon as the flight attendants allow it, Miles is out of his seat and off the plane, Maya trailing behind, demanding that he slow down. But he can't because he has to see Phoenix before something bad happens again. Has to see him and touch him with his own hands before he'll completely believe it. A rental car is waiting and Miles breaks every traffic law he can think of without caring a bit. When he bursts through the police department's front doors, Eme Skye squeaks and drops the Snackoos she's holding.
"Mr. Edgeworth! Where've you-"
"Phoenix," he interrupts her. "I need to see Phoenix."
"Phoenix? He's not here. He's at home."
Miles gapes. "I thought he was on trial."
She grins. "Trial's over. Phoenix's innocent."
"Of course he is!" Maya says, bouncing in place. Miles glares at her.
"I thought you said he needed my help."
She has the decency to look chagrined. "Well, I thought he might need your help. And besides, he's still disbarred. Are you actually angry that you know the truth?"
Of course Miles isn't. He could kiss Maya if the thought wasn't practically obscene. He just shakes his head sharply and goes back to the car. It's better this way. This way there won't be a glass between them, won't be anything between them and Miles can touch him, kiss him. Hold him.
Miles remembers what Maya told him in Germany about how Phoenix is living now, what he's doing with his life, but it's still strange to see the new sign hanging over his office. He even knows to expect a fifteen year old girl to be sitting on the front steps, but it doesn't stop the oddity of it or really, the oddity of her. Miles thinks to himself that only Phoenix would bring home a teenager in a top hat to live with him. When he steps from the car, the girl stands up and puts her hands on her hips.
"I know you. You're the fink."
It's hard to resist the urge to close his eyes and count to ten. "Is Wright here?"
"Like I'm going to tell the fink," she says, defiant. Miles wants to shake her, but he doesn't want to start a fight with Phoenix right off the bat. "Stop calling me that. I'm not a fink." He starts to move past her, but the girl gets in his path, eyes flashing.
"I'm not going to let you waltz in here and hurt him again," she insists, feet planted squarely, body held tense, ready to fight. There's no time for this. Miles has had seven years and thirty more seconds is too long.
"Please get out of my way. I'm not hurting anyone. I need to speak with him," he says, only just barely keeping the rage he's beginning to feel. All those years and Miles is being stopped by a kid he's too polite to punch.
"Maybe he doesn't want-"
"Trucy?"
Miles freezes in place. That voice brings floods of memories, crashing over him, through him. Court cases and heated arguments in lobbies, late night discussions that turned from work to more personal things and later, long evenings spent in bed, curled around each other. It's almost painful to look up, but Miles does. Looks up and sees that handsome face filled with shock and ill-disguised longing.
"Miles?" He looks so different. His outlandish hair hidden under a bright blue hat, chin covered in days worth of stubble, clad in a gray hooded sweatshirt and black pants. It's untidy, out of character and absolutely perfect.
"Phoenix." Miles' voice is low and gravelly, surprising. "I..." But he doesn't have any idea what to say.
"I told him to clear off, Daddy, but he won't go," the girl-Trucy-says. It cuts through Miles like a knife. Phoenix's baby girl, not his and it's wrong, it hurts.
"Go on upstairs, Trucy," Phoenix says. Even his voice sounds different. Calmer, deeper. "I want to speak with Mr. Edgeworth alone."
Trucy makes a face, but she obeys, flinging a baleful look at Miles before retreating into the office building. Miles expects Phoenix to yell at him, accuse him, anything, but instead he turns and holds out a hand. "Won't you come in?" he asks, formal. Miles winces, but he nods. They turn and walk into the building. It still smells the same after all this time, like work and home and Phoenix. Miles takes a deep breath, trying to calm his desire to wrap his arms around Phoenix and gather him close.
"So I take it you heard about the case," Phoenix says once they're inside, his back turned to Miles. It makes Miles think of all the times he peppered that same back with kisses, all the times he pressed his chest close against it while they made love. "I won, so there's really no need to worry about it." His voice is distant. Dead. Miles feels himself come apart at the seams.
"Fuck the case," Miles growls. He strides over to Phoenix, wraps a hand around his upper arm and whirls him around. "You...you..." Loss and love, anger and relief slam together, mixing and whirling inside him. "You..." He falls forward, his forehead crashing against Phoenix's collar and once again, he feels himself sliding down. "Oh god, Phoenix, you're here," he whispers, too upset to feel shame at his breakdown. "You're alive." His arms wind around Phoenix waist, he presses his cheek against Phoenix's stomach. "You're here," he says again. He feels wetness on his face though he doesn't remember beginning to cry.
"Miles?" Phoenix's hands pet helplessly at his hair. "Miles, what...?" Miles feels strong arms wrap around his shoulders. "Of course I'm here, where else would I...oh." His voice is hushed, his realization obvious and then he's pushing Miles back. Miles begins to protest until he realizes that Phoenix has slid down to his knees as well and is wrapping himself up in Miles like he'd never left. "Yes, yes, no I'm here. Why did you think...? Oh my god, no, I thought...but you thought...Oh god, Miles, how did...?"
The only way to shut him up is to kiss him, so Miles does. Kisses him long and hard and with seven years to make up for, it's only a start. He deepens the kiss almost immediately, tasting him and when he hears a moaning sound, he's not sure if its him or Phoenix. The kiss only ends when Phoenix pushes him away, though he looks reluctant to do so.
"Miles, what happened? Why did you think I was dead?"
Miles reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small bag with the pieces of the forged death certificate. "Someone sent me this. It's...it's your death certificate." He pauses. He doesn't want to bring this up, but he has to. "While I was in San Francisco after...after we fought."
Phoenix stares at the bag. "I don't understand. Who...?"
Miles swallows hard. "It was from...it said it was Detective Gumshoe," he says, feeling wretched. How could he have believed it? "After I left, I just...it was stupid, I just wanted to be away for awhile, just a week and then this came and I couldn't...I couldn't come back and see everyone." His shame finally hits, deep and consuming. "I ran away."
Phoenix takes the bag, his eyes still fixed on it. "Someone wanted you to think I was dead," he says, momentarily glossing over Miles' confession. His eyes lose focus as he thinks, then Miles sees him realize something, sees a knowing light enter his eyes.
"What?"
"I don't know...I mean...this murder trial and my...my being disbarred." He looks up into Miles' eyes. "Someone wants to ruin me completely."
It boggles Miles. Why anyone would feel such hatred against this man, this man who's never done anything but help anyone he comes across. "I don't understand," he whispers. Phoenix shakes his head.
"It doesn't matter." A pause and then he corrects himself. "It doesn't matter right now anyway. I'll..." Another stop, then something akin to joy lights Phoenix's beautiful dark brown eyes. "We'll figure it out." Miles feels Phoenix's hands press against his back, pulling him closer. "I missed you so much, Miles," he confesses, sounding a lot more like the young kid Miles remembers meeting all those years ago. Miles wants to fall into his arms, wants to get lost in Phoenix's touch, but he can't. Not yet.
"I'm so sorry," he says quietly, making himself look Phoenix in the eye. "I'm so sorry I didn't come back and make sure. It was just too...when I read that paper, I lost it, Phoenix." He laughs, but it's not happy sounding at all. "I went back to Germany and lived in Von Karma's house." Phoenix's shock is hard to look at, so Miles carries on before he can speak. "I got a dog and I talked to it like it was you."
Phoenix doesn't speak. Miles can see him biting the inside of his mouth.
"What?" he asks, defensive. Phoenix dissolves into what can only be called giggles.
"A dog? Geez, Miles, you really did lose it," he laughs against Miles' chest and Miles would be indignant, but they've wasted too much time on that, so he just punishes him the only way that seems proper. By giving his bum a good hard pinch.
"Ouch!" Phoenix yelps and he smacks Miles on the chest. The moment of lightness does wonders for Miles. He feels something heavy lifting from his chest, something oppressive that feels very much like guilt.
"I'm sorry," he says, except he's not talking about the pinching. "I am sorry, Phoenix," he says again and wraps his arms around him, burying his face in Phoenix's neck. "I shouldn't have left and I should've come back." The memories of what they fought about come rushing back to Miles and he adds. "And I would really love to move in with you."
Phoenix snorts and kisses the top of his head. "I should say so."
It's going to be alright, Miles realizes, as he takes another deep breath, only this time Phoenix's scent is strong, intoxicating. "I love you," he hears himself say, though he doesn't remember planning to say it. And then he hears it again. "I love you so much."
Warm gentle hands rub up and down his back, bringing comfort and desire in equal measures. "I know." He presses a kiss against Miles neck. "I love you too."
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Date: 2008-05-13 02:27 am (UTC)not!deathfic is awesome. i barely know these characters but you make nice pictures form in my head so i can pretend i know them better than i actually do.
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Date: 2008-05-13 02:34 am (UTC)Jenn