Falling into Place

[madimpossibledreamer]

Main Points:
Ace Attorney AU (Turnabout Histories)
Summary: Franziska wasn't particularly ready for this alternate world, either.
Word Count: 1440
Rating: T
SPOILERS for Turnabout Histories

 

         Franziska had hardly expected a phone call from Miles Edgeworth of all things, following the transition upending the world. (Part of her blames her foolish little brother for the announcement in the first place, even though all he did was put words to a phenomenon that the rest of the foolish masses were inclined to overlook. Far too many do not put enough stock in evidence.) Now that she’s faced with the prospect, though, she has entirely no idea what to do with it and very well might burst into tears, an entirely humiliating display despite the fact that such things are not in person. “I don’t believe we have anything to discuss,” she states firmly, willing her voice to remain steady.
         But the way he pauses and then continues, it’s exactly like her dear little brother. As is the slightly smug, infuriating note in his voice, the determined way he continues to chase this goal. “I believe there you’re wrong. I have evidence to the contrary, but if you wish to make any sort of verdict, you shall have to make an appearance.”
         “I am no judge,” she insists, resolving then and there to not even contemplate the offer. It’s foolish and useless and has absolutely no value for her. She has no more family living; all the legal documents say so, and who is she to argue with legal evidence?

         Not for the first time, Franziska resorts to ever more creative and sharp words at her own foolishness for even having bothered to attend this ridiculous charade. This is not her brother.
         He does, however, look a great deal like her little brother, down to the slightly lost expression on his face as he watches the city below, unaware of her presence. He has very little in the way of money, as is the way of all defense attorneys. She knows this. Nonetheless, here he is, squandering some of those precious funds on a reservation at a higher class restaurant, solely for her own comfort. Ridiculous. Though, a treacherous part of her mind reminds her, he always had been given to dramatic gestures. He’s even wearing what she suspects is one of his better suits, though it’s much more muted than his usual colors. And he is still sharper than most, given that he notices her arrival rather quickly.
         “Franziska von Karma. Thank you for joining me,” he greets her, rising for one of his ridiculous bows.
         “I question my foolishness every second for coming here,” she lashes out with her words, and—
         He flinches, but does not otherwise react. Curious. Miles takes a deep breath, and then informs her, destructively honest, “I am sorry.”
         “What foolishness have you been involved in that could possibly have anything to do with me?” she sneers, trying to cover up the pain, but with the way he stares at her, gaze knowing, he is aware of her vulnerability and foolishness, which merely infuriates her further.
         And yet...he’s clutching at his arms. An odd thing, to have survived the transition, given that such was, she believed, a mannerism picked up from Papa. Though perhaps both have more to do with something else—perhaps hours spent huddling in an elevator—than imitating a dead man. He is vulnerable as well. “Despite the fact that I still draw breath, you have lost a sibling, and you have already lost too much.” He meets her eyes, a bleak sadness in his gaze. “I know what it means to lose family, over and over, and despite the fact I now no longer know you I know your pain. I am aware it is through no fault of mine. We still have no idea what caused any of this, and may never do so. Nonetheless, I understand that my presence pains you, through my lack of memory of a past once shared, and wished…” He pauses, and she yearns to pounce, to sneer and say ‘here, now, you have failed, Miles Edgeworth’, point out that he is, as every defense lawyer does, bluffing and hoping to make it through. She does none of those things, voice caught in her own throat. “I wished to extend what little connection I could.”
         “Why would you be so eager to make my acquaintance?” She barely recognizes her own voice, her own words, and the look he gives her is knowing and pained.
         “I believe many would ask the same question about myself,” he responds, sure and wry and more than a little self-pitying, and her patience snaps.
         This, all of this, is so very foolish. Despite the change, this is every bit still her ridiculous little brother, and she herself should have reached out before now, rather than second-guessing every instinct to do so. Because he is hurt, and it was on her to protect him, and she has failed once more.
         She had wondered, for some time, if the Feys were not an improvement in every way. They certainly seemed...less broken, as a family. She had overlooked crucial court evidence—about Morgan Fey, and the disappearance of Misty Fey, which was incredibly unlike her. How careless.
         “Who hurt you, Miles Edgeworth?” she asks in a low tone, fingers tracing her whip in a soothing gesture, and he flinches.
         “This isn’t about…” he begins, and fine, it seems as if she must retrain him once more. He flinches and trails off at the whip crack, though she’s careful not to aim it in his direction. This time.
         “There are...aspects of our upbringings I believe to have been similar,” he admits with a sigh. At least he is not foolish enough to continue to uphold a lie. “I suspect in both households, I was...partly unwanted. You certainly seemed to care, despite your better judgment, a situation with which I am not unacquainted myself as our temperaments seem rather similar. Aunt Morgan was, as I assume von Karma, demanding, constantly asking for perfection which could not be achieved, and neglecting when the occasion suited. I assume also a staff, trained to uphold this atmosphere of quiet, careful fear. And while Aunt Morgan was not the head of the household, as von Karma was, she was only really kept at bay while okaasan was present. Still believe we have nothing to discuss?”
         His slight glare is provoking, determined, and her estimation of the man rises, despite his unfortunate choice to become a defense attorney. He had prepared for this as thoroughly as he would for court, willing to dig deep into harsh truths to aid her, despite not having known her, really, at all. And yet—she was also wrong—no, mistaken, because here she’d been thinking she no longer knew her ridiculous little brother at all, and yet, despite the obvious changes, he was still the same man, with just as much competitive spirit as she, and despite the lack of shared history he merely saw that as a challenge worth daring.
         “Einspruch!” The objection bursts out of her without even intending to do so, and usually if she deigns to step foot in an American court she has the sense to actually use the English variant, but he doesn’t judge her at all, eyes alight with the same fire she’d known. “You are concealing the truth from me, Miles Edgeworth, and I will find it despite your feeble attempts to keep it hidden.”
         He raises one eyebrow, perfectly infuriating, and Gott she has missed her annoying little brother. “Well? I assume the prosecution has evidence to back up that claim?”
         She considers, heart racing, and then, aha, there’s something. “If that were all prompting this meeting, there would be no urgency and no reason to hold it now. That was old news. Something had changed.”
         He smirks at her, and a von Karma never backs away from a challenge.
         And it seems, even though he finally loses, he enjoys it thoroughly as well, the fool, between the revelation that he had once dated a woman and thought himself in love (ridiculous, she had been a murderess, though fortunately in this it seems his foolishness is a fact with which he fully agrees, and perhaps it took that to prompt this version of him to realize his own orientation), but, more recently, apparently the ghost of Mia Fey had returned, and didn’t know him either (and, though he tried to conceal it, didn’t want to, which burned and reminded him of his own neglect in the matter). Well, she thinks viciously, if Miss Fey does not understand the value of what she has gained, Franziska refuses to make the same foolish mistake.