Work Text:
“Are you sure, Mia? You’re a very bright lawyer, I’d hate to lose you. Or to have the competition!”
Mia stands firm. “I’m sorry, Mr. Grossberg. Thank you for taking me on here, but I have my own plans. I’m not leaving immediately, but I’ve found an office space, so it won’t be much longer.” Not to mention she doesn’t particularly want to keep working for the man who sold out her mother, but she may as well stay polite while she still needs the money from this job.
Grossberg sighs. “Very well. I’ll have to—”
Her phone cuts him off, and she pulls it out a little sheepishly, only to blink in surprise at the name on the screen.
“Mr. Wright?”
“Ms-Ms. Fey, I... I’m really sorry if I’m disturbing you, I just—“ Phoenix Wright’s voice cracks audibly.
“No, no, it’s fine. Is... everything all right?” Mia hadn’t heard from him since just after the trial, when she had gone to pay him a visit after his surgery. Eating glass isn’t exactly healthy, after all. She hadn’t really expected him to contact her again.
“I... I don’t-I don’t have a driver's license, or bus money on me, and I-I can’t—” There’s a sharp inhale from the other side of the call.
Oh. “I’ll be right there, Mr. Wright. The hospital on Oak, right?” She glances up at Mr. Grossberg, silently pleading.
“Uh huh. I’m outside.”
“Okay. I’ll be there in ten minutes, okay?” Mia tries to sound as gentle as possible, and he mumbles something in return before hanging up.
“That was the client from your last case?”
“He needs a ride.”
Mr. Grossberg sighs. “Why don’t you start your lunch break now and go pick him up? We can talk about this later.”
“Thank you, Mr. Grossberg.” Really, it was a good thing she had driven for once today. Picking up a client recently out of surgery on a motorcycle probably wouldn’t get the office very good reviews.
———
Mia pulls up to the curb in front of the hospital. Mr. Wright is sitting on the sidewalk, shivering in a t-shirt and mask. There’s a fuzzy pink lump beside him that she assumes is that awful sweater.
She leans over to roll down the passenger side window to call out to him. Mr. Wright starts and looks up, then scrambles to his feet as recognition kicks in. He slides into the passenger seat, eyes trained downwards, clutching the sweater to his chest.
She attempts a comforting smile. “How are you feeling, Mr. Wright?”
“Fine.” His voice is quiet and strained, and he’s drawn in on himself. He feels like a completely different person than the man from the trial. He had been full of energy then, loudly proclaiming either his feelings for Dahlia Hawthorne, or his distress over the accusations. Now he just seems tired. “Thanks for picking me up.”
“Of course. Do you think you can give me directions?”
He frowns, and nods mutely. Unsurprising. His throat and mouth must still be in rough shape from the glass.
Mia sighs, and pulls away from the sidewalk. They drive in silence for a few minutes before she asks, “Are you lactose intolerant, Mr. Wright?”
He looks up, bemused. “H-huh? Uh... no?”
“How about I take you back to your dorm so you can get a change of clothes, and then I buy you a milkshake?”
His grip tightens on the sweater. “Ms. Fey, I...”
“Get a milkshake with me and I’ll consider it your payment for the defense. What flavor do you like?”
His shoulders slump, and he caves. “Chocolate is fine.”
“Good choice.”
———
“Thank you again for the ride Ms. Fey, but you don’t have to wait for me. I should probably shower, and do like a million other things, and you’re probably busy, and—”
“Mr. Wright,” she cuts him off gently. He blinks in surprise. “If you don’t want to come, you don’t have to, but I want a milkshake, and I have plenty of time on my break right now. Waiting is no trouble. Take care of yourself first, and then we can go.”
Mr. Wright nods, looking somewhat lost for words. “I… uh... just Phoenix is fine.”
“Then so is Mia. Hurry up and get ready, I’ll be out here.”
By the time he’s back in the car, hair slightly damp, and wrapped in a new Ivy U. hoodie, Mia’s just finished her seventh sudoku puzzle. She looks up at him, smile back on her face.
“All ready to go?”
He nods, burying his hands in the front pocket. She lays a hand on his shoulder for a moment, before starting up the car again.
———
They sit on the tiny couch in her office at Grossberg’s law firm. Mia has practically inhaled her strawberry milkshake (maybe she was more worn out from the ending of that case than she realized) and Phoenix has a mostly full chocolate milkshake cradled in his lap.
“I-I shouldn’t be this torn up about it, I mean... I’m twenty one, I’m an adult, I should be able to handle this without bursting into tears every time I think about it.”
“Phoenix,” Mia nudges his shoulder, and they meet eyes. “This was an attempt on your life by someone you trusted. That would be incredibly traumatic for anyone, you have every right to be upset. Nobody is going to judge you for that, least of all me.”
“I... I can’t help but think about it. I know it’s stupid but I...” He rubs a hand across his cheek. “I can’t help but wonder if she was always planning to poison me, once the suspicion was off for that other one, o-or if it changed at some point during those eight months. And if it did... that must have been my fault, right? Was it because I took too long to catch the hint? Was there something I did? Why did I have to die?”
She sets her empty cup on the floor by her heels and scoots closer to Phoenix, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. He leans into her side. He’s a lot bigger than her sister, but for a moment she’s comforting Maya after an argument with their aunt. “It was not your fault. Dahlia made her own choices. You aren’t the first person she’s hurt, and you couldn’t possibly have known what kind of person she was.”
“But I should have!” Phoenix cuts in and draws away from her. “We were together for eight months! She never acted anything like she did the other day. Was I just that oblivious? I don’t-I don’t get it.”
They go quiet for a few minutes. Phoenix finally takes an interest in his milkshake again, and Mia stirs around the syrup at the bottom of her own cup, watching it drip down the straw.
Mia’s not sure what to tell him. Dahlia’s a good actress, but eight months of keeping up the act with her boyfriend is a long time. Although, Phoenix had been pretty staunchly against any suggestion of Dahlia being anything less than innocent. It had been endlessly irritating during the trial, how he had argued with her every time Mia had tried to prove his innocence, but now it feels more sad. She should’ve gotten Dahlia the first time.
She breaks the silence first. “You said you were looking into law on the side, right? Any ideas about where you want to go with that?”
Phoenix pulls his sleeve down to wipe some of the moisture from the side of the cup. “Well, I wasn’t totally sure before, but I think I am going to swap majors. I want to become a defense attorney too.”
She tries not to look too dubious. He’s enthusiastic enough, but she’s not sure about his judgement (a certain necklace comes to mind). With the way he handled the trial even before Dahlia’s involvement came to light, it’s hard to picture him ever taking on a case from behind the bench. She knows she’s failed when he looks up at her and winces.
“I know what you’re thinking, I—” he laughs, a little nervously. “I’m not very good at… yeah. But I really need to help him, and I can’t do that as an art major. Plus, you were really amazing in there. I want to try to get better at all of this. I need to.”
Mia assumes the ‘him’ refers to the friend he had mentioned after the trial. “If you’re really this dedicated, then I won’t be the one to stop you. In fact— I’m going to be starting my own law firm pretty soon. I can’t promise anything, but it would be a lot of work doing all of that set-up on my own. If you want the extra experience, I could probably figure out some uses for an assistant.”
His eyes widen, and Mia hopes she hasn’t just a mistake. Maybe with a little bit of good mentoring, he’ll be able to harden up enough to make it. “Thank you! I promise I won’t let you down!” A little bit of the Phoenix from before makes his way out, and she can’t help but grin.
“I expect nothing less. You should probably finish that before it melts the rest of the way. It cost me a whole three dollars. I’d hate to have it go to waste.”