madimpossibledreamer (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
madimpossibledreamer) wrote2023-11-26 07:39 pm
madimpossibledreamer) wrote2023-11-26 07:39 pm
Entry tags:
A Talk, After All This Time
Main Points:
Ace Attorney Soulmate AU
Chapter Summary: Phoenix isn't willing to just sit back and do nothing now, even if Edgeworth might prefer it that way.
Word Count: 1975
Rating: Teen
Pairing: pre-Wright/Edgeworth
Spoilers: The entirety of the first game and some pretty important spoilers for the second and third
Warning: aftermath of Edgeworth's note (suicidal themes)
But no. This is a big case and he's going to blow it wide open, even if he has to sit here all night. He has essentially been knocking at that wall for the entire time. Politely, but he's not going away.
It's unclear if Edgeworth can even feel it, but he doesn't know what else to do, and he can't believe the man is dead. Refuses to. He hadn't felt anything from the Link in years, and okay, maybe he's imagining the fact that it's even there, but that simply can't be the truth, so it isn't.
“I understand this might be presumptuous to ask, but could you refrain from adding further to my headache?”
Phoenix physically pumps his hand in the air, feeling an echo of the amused confusion as if it were his own. Because that absolutely is Miles and he's not hallucinating. He takes stock a second later. Miles' accented voice sounds bone-weary and, surprisingly, more in shock than Phoenix feels. “Yeah, it's presumptuous, you ass. Gumshoe called me to tell me you were dead! But I knew that couldn't be true, I'd have felt it, so...I'm so glad to be hearing from you after all this time but also how dare you.”
He might have kept going if he didn't feel Miles raise a hand to stop him. “He doesn't know, I suppose,” Edgeworth responds, long-suffering exhaustion present in every word. “Before you continue, I should probably inform you that I am currently under involuntary hospital observation, and allowed no contact with the outside world, so don't hold it against the man for being unaware of my current state. If they were aware of this Link, they would probably have me on blockers.”
Which are...a type of drug, apparently, Phoenix catches on the surface thoughts, and something clicks. “Wait, you've been taking those all this time?”
A meaningless smirk. “Under Von Karma's orders, as you might imagine. And then because I hardly wished to burden you. They've worn off, I should imagine, though I'd also been taught mental exercises to help if I ever missed a dose. You're not privy to the inner workings of the justice system, of course, so you're probably not familiar with their existence. It's common to use them, for instance, for defendants in a criminal trial, assuming Linked status is known. Hospitals often use them during severe accidents to avoid two feeling the same pain, again, if Linked status is known.”
“I'm glad he's rotting in jail,” is Phoenix's first thought, because that's obviously abuse, not like Edgeworth didn't know that, followed quickly by his actually processing the rest of what Edgeworth said. He freezes.
“Yes, it was literal,” Edgeworth states dully, shivering a little as he, too, stares at a wall.
“Why?” It's a question that's been plaguing Phoenix for so long, and he feels a touch of guilt pass through that emptiness.
“I may not have brought harm to my father by my hand, true, but all I do is cause pain. To those, no doubt innocent, defendants whose lives I personally ruined. To the memory of my father. Even to you, my Linked, I have no doubt I only caused grief and sorrow.” This is the only statement he's made with any certainty, the most important testimony here, and even as he catches emotions rising and disappearing rapid-fire at his determination to keep going (incredulity, amusement, annoyance) he rifles through what evidence he has–and here he'd thought State vs. Edgeworth was the most important case of his life!
He really can't argue that particular statement, even though he's fairly certain it didn't need to stay that way and that things might get better, but Miles wouldn't accept that as evidence. Edgeworth snorts in weary amusement and glances back at the wall dully, preparing to tune everything else out, when–aha! There's that turnabout!
He feels Miles' thoughts shatter as he lifts an arm–ow it'd gone to sleep–and shouts, “Objection!” ...whoops, that'd been out loud. Hopefully he isn't bothering anybody at this hour.
He continues, this time just through the Link. “Pretty sure that's true of everybody I care about, Miles.”
“...What?” He feels Edgeworth's prosecutor-brain come online, demanding justice, and oh wow it is just as pretty and intimidating as he'd expected.
He starts lightheartedly. “There's Larry. Pretty sure I don't need to explain this one.”
“The less said about him, the better,” Edgeworth agrees, fond distaste tainting the words.
It can only get harder from here. “Mia. She died, and she can come back as a ghost, but that's not the same thing. My parents, only they can't come back.”
“My condolences,” Edgeworth mutters, only he really means it. It sounds like he might actually remember them.
“Maya. Who I love as a little sister, but she eats so much and I barely make rent as it is and she can be incredibly annoying. And better not get arrested for murder. Again. Ema, who, well. She was a bit of a handful, but she meant well. Gumshoe? Maybe? Again, don't have to explain that one. I...um.” He runs into a wall of his own, because he'd never planned on telling Miles about this, but he's in need so Phoenix's pride can suck it. “M-my college girlfriend. Dollie. She tried to poison me.”
“...Please tell me she is in prison.” If not, Phoenix can feel Miles' urge to march up to the door and demand to be let go, he has a case to prosecute, despite the fact that probably no one would listen in the first place. It's actually kind of sweet.
And Miles gets embarrassed by the gratitude, so he replies quickly before the man can dwell. “Yeah. State vs. Wright. You can look it up. I mean, obviously not right now, but. Later. Dahlia Hawthorne.”
“H-Hawthorne?” Edgeworth stutters, and he actually sits up. It's a bit surprising. He urgently concentrates on an image of Dahlia, and yeah, that's her, down to her adorable little parasol she'd take everywhere.
He's about to voice his confirmation when he realizes he doesn't have to, now that they're sharing emotions and impressions down the Link, and he's hit by a wave of guilt and despair so strong they nearly pull him under. No wonder, if this is how he'd been feeling, that he'd given into what felt like the inevitable, because this is unbearable, but maybe he can take some of this load, now.
“Edgeworth?” he reaches out hesitantly, only for the prosecutor to back away like he's a poisonous snake, mentally, physically, emotionally. He's actually shaking now.
“My mistake nearly killed you,” he mutters, and Phoenix is half certain he wasn't meant to hear that.
“I'm sorry, what?” Because he's not going anywhere, not even if Edgeworth tries to shove him away.
It's snippets, more than anything, and less coherent than if Edgeworth were...better, but Phoenix can piece it together–his first case, against Mia, the defendant killing himself by swallowing a familiar-looking necklace, a familiar witness. “So, you see, if I was a better prosecutor, I...” Miles closes grey eyes in despair. “I wouldn't have let such an obviously guilty criminal go, and you would not have paid the price.”
He's determined to shoulder the entire blame himself, when it's pretty clear he's not the common denominator in this situation. Wright meets the pronouncement with a wry smile. “Yeah, but if I hadn't been so naïve, it wouldn't have been so near a thing. I mean, I ate glass. Who does that? I've still got scars, if you look close.”
The response feels more like an exclamation mark than anything, and a brief glimpse of a figure in prison clothes keeling over at the witness stand. Edgeworth takes in a deep breath and lets it out, deep in thought. “That seems unhealthy,” he pronounces eventually, not just to the specific situation, but to the entire testimony, causing Phoenix to unintentionally giggle.
“Says the guy currently under observation,” he fires back, realizing it might have been something he shouldn't have said a little too late, but he shouldn't have been worried.
Because that smirk is real. It's barely there, but it's back, that little spark of Miles as he grandstands in court and looks unfairly good doing so. He's even (mentally) doing that little finger waggle. “Yes, so I suppose you could consider me an expert witness in this matter.”
He crosses his arms, leaning his head back, deep in thought. “I suppose I will attempt to take better care of myself if you promise to do the same. And if I could trouble you for another matter...”
“Anything,” Phoenix promises. Because while maybe this is going against the spirit of the first part, it'd be a lot less painful if Miles would stop making it such a hassle to get him to accept that help.
“My apologies,” Edgeworth offers smoothly, pulling himself together, just a little. “I'm afraid my position as a prosecutor will probably not be enough to get me out of this observation room, and clearly the Chief Prosecutor and Chief of Police will be of no help in this endeavor. And it is, to say the least...uncomfortable. In this situation, I can only think of one other possibility, and that is my sister. Assuming she wants to help, of course, her assistance will be invaluable. Here is her number.”
A Von Karma, Phoenix catches, and shivers a little. Yikes, he does not particularly want to deal with that man's daughter.
“I understand if you'd rather pass this on to, say, Gumshoe,” the prosecutor continues smoothly as if he'd meant to do so all along, and Wright shakes his head, because he didn’t need the Link to know how much it’d mean for Phoenix to do it.
“Honestly, pretty sure Manfred and his taser are scarier than anything this, uh...Franziska can do to me?” It's a bit of bravado, and Miles will notice and probably feel a little unreasonably guilty about the whole thing, like it hadn’t been Phoenix’s careless shoving the evidence in Manfred’s face without a judge present that had been the cause of the tasering incident, and you know what, he doesn’t even feel too bad about it, because if it hadn’t been for that Maya might not have gotten the evidence he needed to put the slimeball away for good. He's also determined to do this, because there's finally something he can do, which is incredible, so yeah, he'd face down any number of Von Karmas. “I'm guessing German mental health care is better than ours?” He makes a note of the phone number even as Edgeworth tuts a little at the messy handwriting.
“German anything health care is an improvement on our own,” Edgeworth grumbles, but he feels...not happy. Content, maybe? Thankful, fond, maybe a little hopeful, which are all a good start, even though they feel distant and a little fragile. More than anything, though, he's overly exhausted. And he's definitely got a headache that makes Phoenix rub at his own forehead even knowing it won't do any good.
“Hey, Edgeworth? Why don't you get in some sleep, and I'll call your sister and we'll plot your great escape, okay?” Amusement, a nod, and Miles leans back down, soaking up Phoenix who for his part could definitely be happy enough for both of them, if he needs to be.
Miles doesn't have to experience a single nightmare alone again, waking or dreaming.
Ace Attorney Soulmate AU
Chapter Summary: Phoenix isn't willing to just sit back and do nothing now, even if Edgeworth might prefer it that way.
Word Count: 1975
Rating: Teen
Pairing: pre-Wright/Edgeworth
Spoilers: The entirety of the first game and some pretty important spoilers for the second and third
Warning: aftermath of Edgeworth's note (suicidal themes)
Phoenix is very aware that he's been sitting in his office for a good few hours straight staring at the wall. He's distantly aware that he's getting a little stiff and that getting up is going to hurt. If Maya were here, she'd probably think that he's in shock. Who wouldn't be, after a call like that from Gumshoe?
But no. This is a big case and he's going to blow it wide open, even if he has to sit here all night. He has essentially been knocking at that wall for the entire time. Politely, but he's not going away.
It's unclear if Edgeworth can even feel it, but he doesn't know what else to do, and he can't believe the man is dead. Refuses to. He hadn't felt anything from the Link in years, and okay, maybe he's imagining the fact that it's even there, but that simply can't be the truth, so it isn't.
“I understand this might be presumptuous to ask, but could you refrain from adding further to my headache?”
Phoenix physically pumps his hand in the air, feeling an echo of the amused confusion as if it were his own. Because that absolutely is Miles and he's not hallucinating. He takes stock a second later. Miles' accented voice sounds bone-weary and, surprisingly, more in shock than Phoenix feels. “Yeah, it's presumptuous, you ass. Gumshoe called me to tell me you were dead! But I knew that couldn't be true, I'd have felt it, so...I'm so glad to be hearing from you after all this time but also how dare you.”
He might have kept going if he didn't feel Miles raise a hand to stop him. “He doesn't know, I suppose,” Edgeworth responds, long-suffering exhaustion present in every word. “Before you continue, I should probably inform you that I am currently under involuntary hospital observation, and allowed no contact with the outside world, so don't hold it against the man for being unaware of my current state. If they were aware of this Link, they would probably have me on blockers.”
Which are...a type of drug, apparently, Phoenix catches on the surface thoughts, and something clicks. “Wait, you've been taking those all this time?”
A meaningless smirk. “Under Von Karma's orders, as you might imagine. And then because I hardly wished to burden you. They've worn off, I should imagine, though I'd also been taught mental exercises to help if I ever missed a dose. You're not privy to the inner workings of the justice system, of course, so you're probably not familiar with their existence. It's common to use them, for instance, for defendants in a criminal trial, assuming Linked status is known. Hospitals often use them during severe accidents to avoid two feeling the same pain, again, if Linked status is known.”
“I'm glad he's rotting in jail,” is Phoenix's first thought, because that's obviously abuse, not like Edgeworth didn't know that, followed quickly by his actually processing the rest of what Edgeworth said. He freezes.
“Yes, it was literal,” Edgeworth states dully, shivering a little as he, too, stares at a wall.
“Why?” It's a question that's been plaguing Phoenix for so long, and he feels a touch of guilt pass through that emptiness.
“I may not have brought harm to my father by my hand, true, but all I do is cause pain. To those, no doubt innocent, defendants whose lives I personally ruined. To the memory of my father. Even to you, my Linked, I have no doubt I only caused grief and sorrow.” This is the only statement he's made with any certainty, the most important testimony here, and even as he catches emotions rising and disappearing rapid-fire at his determination to keep going (incredulity, amusement, annoyance) he rifles through what evidence he has–and here he'd thought State vs. Edgeworth was the most important case of his life!
He really can't argue that particular statement, even though he's fairly certain it didn't need to stay that way and that things might get better, but Miles wouldn't accept that as evidence. Edgeworth snorts in weary amusement and glances back at the wall dully, preparing to tune everything else out, when–aha! There's that turnabout!
He feels Miles' thoughts shatter as he lifts an arm–ow it'd gone to sleep–and shouts, “Objection!” ...whoops, that'd been out loud. Hopefully he isn't bothering anybody at this hour.
He continues, this time just through the Link. “Pretty sure that's true of everybody I care about, Miles.”
“...What?” He feels Edgeworth's prosecutor-brain come online, demanding justice, and oh wow it is just as pretty and intimidating as he'd expected.
He starts lightheartedly. “There's Larry. Pretty sure I don't need to explain this one.”
“The less said about him, the better,” Edgeworth agrees, fond distaste tainting the words.
It can only get harder from here. “Mia. She died, and she can come back as a ghost, but that's not the same thing. My parents, only they can't come back.”
“My condolences,” Edgeworth mutters, only he really means it. It sounds like he might actually remember them.
“Maya. Who I love as a little sister, but she eats so much and I barely make rent as it is and she can be incredibly annoying. And better not get arrested for murder. Again. Ema, who, well. She was a bit of a handful, but she meant well. Gumshoe? Maybe? Again, don't have to explain that one. I...um.” He runs into a wall of his own, because he'd never planned on telling Miles about this, but he's in need so Phoenix's pride can suck it. “M-my college girlfriend. Dollie. She tried to poison me.”
“...Please tell me she is in prison.” If not, Phoenix can feel Miles' urge to march up to the door and demand to be let go, he has a case to prosecute, despite the fact that probably no one would listen in the first place. It's actually kind of sweet.
And Miles gets embarrassed by the gratitude, so he replies quickly before the man can dwell. “Yeah. State vs. Wright. You can look it up. I mean, obviously not right now, but. Later. Dahlia Hawthorne.”
“H-Hawthorne?” Edgeworth stutters, and he actually sits up. It's a bit surprising. He urgently concentrates on an image of Dahlia, and yeah, that's her, down to her adorable little parasol she'd take everywhere.
He's about to voice his confirmation when he realizes he doesn't have to, now that they're sharing emotions and impressions down the Link, and he's hit by a wave of guilt and despair so strong they nearly pull him under. No wonder, if this is how he'd been feeling, that he'd given into what felt like the inevitable, because this is unbearable, but maybe he can take some of this load, now.
“Edgeworth?” he reaches out hesitantly, only for the prosecutor to back away like he's a poisonous snake, mentally, physically, emotionally. He's actually shaking now.
“My mistake nearly killed you,” he mutters, and Phoenix is half certain he wasn't meant to hear that.
“I'm sorry, what?” Because he's not going anywhere, not even if Edgeworth tries to shove him away.
It's snippets, more than anything, and less coherent than if Edgeworth were...better, but Phoenix can piece it together–his first case, against Mia, the defendant killing himself by swallowing a familiar-looking necklace, a familiar witness. “So, you see, if I was a better prosecutor, I...” Miles closes grey eyes in despair. “I wouldn't have let such an obviously guilty criminal go, and you would not have paid the price.”
He's determined to shoulder the entire blame himself, when it's pretty clear he's not the common denominator in this situation. Wright meets the pronouncement with a wry smile. “Yeah, but if I hadn't been so naïve, it wouldn't have been so near a thing. I mean, I ate glass. Who does that? I've still got scars, if you look close.”
The response feels more like an exclamation mark than anything, and a brief glimpse of a figure in prison clothes keeling over at the witness stand. Edgeworth takes in a deep breath and lets it out, deep in thought. “That seems unhealthy,” he pronounces eventually, not just to the specific situation, but to the entire testimony, causing Phoenix to unintentionally giggle.
“Says the guy currently under observation,” he fires back, realizing it might have been something he shouldn't have said a little too late, but he shouldn't have been worried.
Because that smirk is real. It's barely there, but it's back, that little spark of Miles as he grandstands in court and looks unfairly good doing so. He's even (mentally) doing that little finger waggle. “Yes, so I suppose you could consider me an expert witness in this matter.”
He crosses his arms, leaning his head back, deep in thought. “I suppose I will attempt to take better care of myself if you promise to do the same. And if I could trouble you for another matter...”
“Anything,” Phoenix promises. Because while maybe this is going against the spirit of the first part, it'd be a lot less painful if Miles would stop making it such a hassle to get him to accept that help.
“My apologies,” Edgeworth offers smoothly, pulling himself together, just a little. “I'm afraid my position as a prosecutor will probably not be enough to get me out of this observation room, and clearly the Chief Prosecutor and Chief of Police will be of no help in this endeavor. And it is, to say the least...uncomfortable. In this situation, I can only think of one other possibility, and that is my sister. Assuming she wants to help, of course, her assistance will be invaluable. Here is her number.”
A Von Karma, Phoenix catches, and shivers a little. Yikes, he does not particularly want to deal with that man's daughter.
“I understand if you'd rather pass this on to, say, Gumshoe,” the prosecutor continues smoothly as if he'd meant to do so all along, and Wright shakes his head, because he didn’t need the Link to know how much it’d mean for Phoenix to do it.
“Honestly, pretty sure Manfred and his taser are scarier than anything this, uh...Franziska can do to me?” It's a bit of bravado, and Miles will notice and probably feel a little unreasonably guilty about the whole thing, like it hadn’t been Phoenix’s careless shoving the evidence in Manfred’s face without a judge present that had been the cause of the tasering incident, and you know what, he doesn’t even feel too bad about it, because if it hadn’t been for that Maya might not have gotten the evidence he needed to put the slimeball away for good. He's also determined to do this, because there's finally something he can do, which is incredible, so yeah, he'd face down any number of Von Karmas. “I'm guessing German mental health care is better than ours?” He makes a note of the phone number even as Edgeworth tuts a little at the messy handwriting.
“German anything health care is an improvement on our own,” Edgeworth grumbles, but he feels...not happy. Content, maybe? Thankful, fond, maybe a little hopeful, which are all a good start, even though they feel distant and a little fragile. More than anything, though, he's overly exhausted. And he's definitely got a headache that makes Phoenix rub at his own forehead even knowing it won't do any good.
“Hey, Edgeworth? Why don't you get in some sleep, and I'll call your sister and we'll plot your great escape, okay?” Amusement, a nod, and Miles leans back down, soaking up Phoenix who for his part could definitely be happy enough for both of them, if he needs to be.
Miles doesn't have to experience a single nightmare alone again, waking or dreaming.