Work Text:
Miles rings the doorbell of the Anything Agency, and counts to ten.
He then knocks politely, three times.
He knocks a little more aggressively, with a closed fist.
Finally, Miles’ closed fist and upper arm are thudding loudly against the wood of the door, as he sharply calls into the office.
“It’s Edgeworth. Open up.”
There’s a little bit of shuffling on the other side of the door, and so he stops to listen. Before long, he hears the rusty lock turn in the frame.
Phoenix Wright opens the door, looking a little disoriented, his clothes creased in a particular way that Miles by now recognized as a clear symptom of sleeping on the office couch. Typical, Miles thinks, sneering inwardly. He glares at Phoenix, smiling sweetly, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
“Well Wright. Did you have a good rest?”
Phoenix puts a hand to his head, with a dazed, wide-eyed stare, looking like he might actually not be completely awake.“...What?”
Miles crosses his arms across his chest, telegraphing his annoyance any way he could, tapping his shoulder with one finger. “Do you perhaps, not remember where you are supposed to be right now?” He asks Phoenix, through gritted teeth.
Phoenix looks to the side, guiltily. “Um…I’m…”
Miles sighs in exasperation. Of course, he’d love to stand there another minute and see what excuse Phoenix blunders and bluffs his way into, but it was a work day, and he hadn’t the time. “You were supposed to show up at my office over an hour ago.”
"I was...supposed to show up at your office...?" Miles narrows his eyes, the embarrassed realization he expects not appearing across Phoenix’s features. Phoenix’s brows just knit closer together, as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Oh, oh…um…I’m sorry…I guess I forgot about it.”
Miles shakes his head. He wasn’t going to play cute and get away with it (this time). “Don’t pretend you didn't remember, you called this morning to confirm.”
Phoenix nods, smiling sheepishly. “...I am really sorry, I guess if that's the case…” He trails off, still looking concerned, staring off into space. Miles frowns. Even for Phoenix, this seemed a little more confused and disoriented than normal. He notices that Phoenix isn’t actually rubbing the back of his neck, he’s rubbing the back of his head.
He looks up at Miles then after a few seconds, and smiles, red-faced with remorse. “I’m really sorry, I really am, I didn’t mean to miss our…the...” He trails off, the end of the sentence dying a painful and lonely death, as his mouth lay open and then shut. He looks at Miles expectantly then, hopefully, pleading with him without words to help him out. He looks doe-eyed and helpless and Miles can’t help but pity him.
“Don’t be so- God, Wright.” It’s really rather annoying. Miles puts a hand to his face to cover his blush. “You told me you had something to give me for the prosecution office, for an upcoming trial.”
When he looks up at him again, Phoenix nods, his face looking so exaggeratedly thoughtful it could only be an act. “...For an upcoming trial. Something for...an upcoming trial.” His lips press together, forming a thin line, as he rubs his chin with one hand. “Yes, um…”
Miles puts his hand out. “I’m here to pick up whatever you were going to give me and then I have to go.”
Phoenix looks at Mile’s outstretched hand for a moment, his lips still pressed together. His scruffy brows meet in the middle, pushing upward in concern. He looks up at Miles, and Miles is mildly concerned to see the anxiety in the vibration of his irises. “...Did…Did I happen to tell you what I was going to give you?”
Miles gives a long sigh. “No.”
Miles starts tapping a foot, urging Phoenix to hurry it up and decide if he was going to keep pretending he could pull it together. Finally throws his hands up in defeat.
“Just let me in. It's probably sitting on your desk right this moment.”
Phoenix seems to balk a bit at this suggestion, his face lighting up red. “You want to come in?”
Miles isn’t sure why, but he feels embarrassed as well. “Well we're getting no where just standing here. I have to get back to the office.” When Phoenix doesn’t budge, Miles sighs again. “I really don't have time for you to stand there and gawk at me all day, Wright."
“Oh!” Phoenix straightens up at this. “Yeah, sorry, sure.” He moves, creating a wide path where Miles could walk past him into the office. “Come on in…” There’s an odd pause, before Wright adds, almost as an afterthought, “...Edgeworth.” He stares at Miles now, as if he might be wrong.
Miles frowns, taking the invitation to start moving inside the office, but he gives Phoenix a quizzical look as he approaches. “...Is there something wrong, Wright?”
Phoenix smiles at him, his voice sounding a tinge anxious. “What makes you say that?”
Miles' frown deepens, as he walks into the Anything Agency, which reassuringly seems to look just as chaotic as it normally does and not a bit more. “I must admit that you seem out of sorts. More than usual.”
Phoenix’s smile fades away at this, and he actually looks small and worried, which stops Edgeworth in his tracks. Usually Wright would have laughed off a comment like that, but now Phoenix was rubbing his arm, and looking away, like he didn’t know what to say. Miles cocks his head to one side, trying to understand. “How long have you been asleep, precisely?”
Phoenix bites his lip. “I um…” His eyes dart around a bit, and then he looks at Miles right in the eyes. He puts his hands up, defensively.
“Ok, I don’t want to alarm you, um…Edgeworth…but…I don’t remember what it is that I was going to give you.”
Miles narrows his eyes. While disappointing, it wasn't completely off-brand for Phoenix to do something like forget or misplace something for a case he wasn't handling himself. But Phoenix looks a lot more distressed by this admission than he normally would, certainly.
“Is there something…” Miles trails off, watching Phoenix start to tremble where he stood. Miles puts a hand out, cautiously, and it lands on Phoenix’s shoulder. Phoenix doesn't recoil, but he does look up at Miles, with scared and faraway eyes.
“Maybe you should sit.”
Phoenix nods, making rather aggressive eye contact, even for him. “Yeah. Okay.”
Miles sits next to Phoenix on the couch. “Alright, what’s the matter then? You said you don’t remember what you were going to give me?”
Phoenix shakes his head. “I definitely don’t remember that.” He folds his hands together, his gaze settling on the rug. “I also don’t remember…” He pauses to swallow before continuing. “…Who I am, or what I’m doing here.”
Miles waits a moment, processing what Wright has just said. “Are...are you serious?”
Phoenix smiles, a little weakly, turning to look at Miles now. “Yeah, unfortunately. I don't really recognize this place, I don't remember calling you this morning, I don't think I remember...much of anything about me, right now." Phoenix has gone back to rubbing the back of his head, frowning. "...I thought maybe it would start coming back if we kept talking, but it's been a few minutes now and I can't...recall anything.” An anxious, sort of fearful expression breaks across Phoenix’s face, and it's alarming how different it looks from the usual sheepish anxiety Phoenix might flash a glimpse of in court. Phoenix reaches out to take Miles’ hand, which Miles normally would have batted away, but it's almost as if a scared stranger is simply reaching out for assurance. Miles allows his hand to be held, and squeezed. “I’m so sorry to do this to you…but it seems like we know each other well.” His gaze is shaky and desperate. “...Do you think you could help me figure out what’s going on?”
“Of course.” Says Miles, a little alarmed that even a confused and amnesiac Phoenix would think he'd abandon him in this moment.
When Phoenix exhales sharply, relief blooming on his face, looking at Miles like he was some sort of savior, it takes Miles’ breath away. He coughs into his other hand, looking away.
Right. There’s a problem. Need to investigate.
Miles puts a thoughtful hand to his chin. He could start by asking Wright about what he DID know at the moment, but judging from how alarmed he seemed to be, Miles didn't think it would be a good idea to start quizzing him and have him dwell on what he's forgetting. Instead, Miles starts to think about how they could figure out what must have happened.
“What were you doing before I knocked?”
Phoenix shrugs, looking around the room. He points to the other end of the couch. “Last thing I remember is coming to, over there, must have been a little after you started knocking on the door.”
Miles follows his hand, but he can feel his hand vibrating where Phoenix is still holding it. Unable to stop himself, he folds his other hand over it, giving it a few reassuring strokes with his thumb. “You’re shaking. Take some deep breaths.”
Phoenix seems to settle at the sensation of Mile’s comforting him, and he smiles, looking a little pale but slightly less concerned. “I’m…I’m sorry. I’m a little freaked out I guess.” He frowns, laughing nervously. “I mean…I don’t feel like I’m hurt, and I feel pretty confident that you’re someone I know, it’s just…alarming not knowing what's going on.”
“It’ll be fine.” Miles says, using every last logical bone in his body to stop himself from reaching out and holding his platonic friend’s frightened face in his hand then, or otherwise pulling Phoenix towards him to hold him. “We ought to get you to a hospital.”
Phoenix nods, taking in a deep breath. “Probably.” He exhales, slowly, seeming to calm down somewhat. He at least stops shaking. He looks around the room, something like resolve clouding over the fear in his eyes. “But I just…I feel like there’s something I’m supposed to do here before I leave this place.”
He shakes his head, a mild look of disgust unfolding over his features as he scans the room. “Would you look at the state of this place...” He laughs uneasily, gesturing at all of the strange, incongruous props around the room. “I mean, what even is this?” He picks up the plastic trick plate of spaghetti from the coffee table in front of him, and Miles had to admit to himself he’d thought the same thing before. “It’s all in disarray.” He looks to Miles, his face suddenly serious, and it's almost comical then when he says, “To me, it looks like maybe someone’s been through my things." He casts another concerned look around the office. "...These are my things, right?”
Miles pressed his lips together to stifle a smile, feeling rather guilty that he felt like smiling at all in this situation. “Well, yes these are your things, but actually this happens to be…how your office always looks.”
The meaning behind those words takes a few seconds to set in, and then Phoenix is blushing and looking away. “Don’t worry about it Wright, you work with a very eclectic group of people. So it follows that your office is filled with a...variety of things, that are difficult to organize.” He sees Wright pick up a set of fuzzy handcuffs, something like alarm showing in his eyes, to which Miles quickly says, “One of the people who works here happens to be a magician.”
Phoenix sighs, laughing a little nervously, dropping the cuffs. “Oh, oh…well um…I suppose that’s a relief…”
He looks up and smiles, self-conscious and shy. “Sorry I’m not cleaner.” Phoenix suddenly snaps his fingers. “Ah! Since you know me and this place pretty well then…Is there anything here that you don’t recognize? Something new?”
Miles hums in thought, looking around, and then his eyes settle on a small, square cardboard box resting on the arm of the couch where Phoenix said he had been sleeping. He points to it.
“...Was there something in that box?”
Phoenix looks at it, and shakes his head. “I don’t know. That was there when I got up though, I think.”
His investigative instincts finally kicking in (thankfully, giving him an excuse to do something other than marvel at the mundane expressions on Phoenix Wright’s face), Miles approaches the couch, taking a pen out of his pocket to turn the empty box over onto the couch and inspect it without touching it. There’s a large white postage sticker on one side. “...It’s a package from the country of Kurai’n.”
He looks back to Phoenix. “You don’t remember opening this?”
He shrugs, looking helpless and sorry. “No, I wish I did.”
Miles frowns, rubbing his chin. “Well, what about your phone?”
“My phone?”
Miles nods. “Check your pockets. We ought to see if anyone has called or messaged you recently; perhaps it’ll give us some clue as to what you were doing just before I got here.”
Phoenix nods enthusiastically. “Oh, good thinking Edgeworth!” He smiles brightly, going then to turn his pockets inside out. “You’re so smart…Why didn’t I think of that…” There’s an earnest awed admiration to his words that Miles hasn’t heard in Phoenix’s voice in a very long time, and it makes his gut twist in an unexpected way. Miles doesn’t have long to think about it, however, as a disappointed gasp greets him next.
"What is it, Wright?"
“God, Is this really my phone?” Phoenix gestures towards Miles with the small, light blue brick in his hands. "Or is it a relic of some sort? Geez, I don't remember who I am but...I feel embarrassed just looking at it."
Miles finds himself smiling at that. “You unfortunately only have yourself to blame for that. You've been stubbornly insisting that you're fine with that model for years."
Phoenix laughs a little, bewildered. “But why’d you let me do it?”
Miles shrugs. “You just say you'll break anything else, and given how often you drop it, I've so far been inclined to agree.”
Phoenix shakes his head, looking back down at the device. “Geez, am I really that much of a mess...? Well, at least it appears to be functional...”
Miles can hear a few loud blips as Phoenix appears to be checking through his phone. “Ah it looks like I have a few missed calls from Edgew- you, I guess, sorry about that…and then the last phone call I picked up, not too long ago, was from…” He squints down at the screen. “Someone named Maya.” He looks up, smiling at Miles, appearing happy to have any answers to offer at all.
“And you don’t remember what that call was about right?" Phoenix shakes his head. "Maybe you should call her back, then.”
Phoenix’s smile falters somewhat. “Yeah…”
Miles puts a hand out. “Give it here, I’ll do it.”
Phoenix’s smile brightens with relief, and Miles is grateful that Phoenix doesn’t often look at him like that, because he’d never be able to deny him anything again. “Thanks so much, Edgeworth. I’m just a little nervous, I’m not really sure I know how to explain what’s going on…”
Miles presses the call button, and puts the call on speaker, holding Phoenix's comically large cell phone between them. After a few rings, Maya Fey’s bright voice comes in, a tad tinny on the other end.
“Nick?”
Edgeworth sees concern play over Phoenix’s face; not recognition, which is a small disappointment, but he’d expected as much. He clears his throat. “Hello Maya Fey?”
“…Miley?” There’s a little bit of muffled commotion. “What are you doing with Nick’s phone, hm?” She sounds a little more suggestive than he’d prefer, and he clears his throat loudly.
“I’ll explain soon. But first, what were you just speaking to Wright over the phone about?”
There’s a pause. “...Is he ok? I mean, he should be able to tell you something like that.”
Miles looks at Phoenix, who nods at him, giving his consent to speak for him. “He’s alright, but he seems to be suffering from a bout of spontaneous amnesia.”
He readies himself to calm her down, but Maya seems less concerned and more annoyed. “Again?” Maya makes an exasperated sound on the other end of the line.
“Again?” Miles repeats back to her, incredulously. He sent another look towards Phoenix, who of course could only shrug.
“Ah crap. Is there a box nearby?”
“Yes, a package from Kurai’n. But it appears to be empty.”
“Oh crap crap crap crap crap crap...Tch, I told him not to open it...should have known he wouldn't listen or else he wouldn't be able to help himself. Shame on you Nick, if you're listening!” Miles sees Phoenix fidget a little uncomfortably, and then he hears Maya muffled voice yelling away from the mic. He can barely make out that she's calling for Apollo.
“Sorry, Miley. I think I know what’s going on; I sent Nick something to check out from Kurai’n for a case Apollo is helping Athena and Simon with, but I think maybe some spooky spirit channeling stuff might have happened.”
“What?”
“No worries." Maya's voice is cheerful. "That part's not that important.” He didn’t see how that could possibly be the case, but Maya Fey interrupted his thoughts. “Don’t worry about a thing! Everything is going to be fine, this is just a minor snag, that’s all.” It was hardly reassuring, but he was glad to hear at least that Maya seemed to know what was going on. “I’m going to need a little time on my end to do anything about it, though. I think I have to go and find Polly first, and then we’ll be in touch with someone at the office, ok? In the meantime, oh! Ohohoho, I know what will help.”
He can almost hear the smile on Maya’s face through the phone, the mischievous giggle not quite fading from her tone. “Miley, see if you can find Nick’s amnesia kit.”
Miles takes a moment to try and process what Maya just said “His....his what?”
“His Amensia Kit.” Maya repeats herself neutrally as if it's something everyone has and should know about. “I helped him put together an amnesia kit after the second time.”
“The second time?!”
Maya tsked at him on the other end of the line.
“Poor Nick. Got beaned at a baseball game a little while ago, couldn’t remember where we parked.”
Miles made a face. “Where he...parked? Wright doesn’t have a car.”
Maya scoffed. “Exactly.”
Miles blinks. “That still only explains one time…”
“Oh! Yeah, I think the first time was a fire extinguisher.” Miles waits in vain for Maya to explain herself, because she never does and this time doesn't appear to be an exception. “Anyway, Amnesia Kit. It’s in his desk somewhere, can’t miss it.” He hears her giggle, which again, seems very odd and out of place in the current situation, but Maya was sort of an odd person, to be fair. “Make sure you help him read through the whoooleee thing, ok? I’ll call right back.”
The line goes dead, and Edgeworth is left with slightly more answers than he started with. Phoenix looks up at him hopefully when she hangs up.
“Um...did you understand any of that? Who was that, anyway?"
“An old friend of yours.” He catches himself, and corrects it. “Ours.”
“Ours?” Wright parrots, an unreadable look on his face.
“Yes.”
Phoenix hums, and appears to be thinking. “Our friend...she called you something else on the phone just now. Miley?”
Miles makes a face, somewhat disturbed that Phoenix didn’t remember even that much and had still let him in the office. “Edgeworth is my surname. My full name is Miles Edgeworth. Do you really not remember at all who I am?
Phoenix bites his lip. “Um…I mean...I don't remember the details, but I did feel like I knew you when I saw you...?”
Edgeworth crosses his arms in front of him. "How could you let me in your office when you were here by yourself, without remembering my name?! Do you even know what our relationship is to one another??"
He gives Miles a lopsided smile. "Yeah, sure I do." Miles sighs inwardly, recognizing a bluff when he sees one, at least he has inexplicably not forgotten how to do that. Phoenix looks Miles straight in the eye, neutrally, and seems to be trying to gauge his reaction. “You’re my….b…”
Miles tries to keep his face blank. B...brother? Does he think we’re related? But Phoenix, ever the poker player (even if he didn't remember he was one) notices whatever it is his face gives away, and immediately backpedals out of whatever he was going to guess first.
“...Co-worker?”
Miles nods. “Yes, I’m your co-worker.” He fights the urge to roll his eyes. "I did come on a work-related call, after all."
Phoenix laughs a little. "Well then that's why I let you in. My idea in the first place." Miles gives him a look, but Phoenix looks away then, still seeming surprised, for some reason. “Huh. So you're Miles. My…coworker.” Miles thinks to correct him, to tell Phoenix that he hardly ever calls him ‘Miles’ these days, but it seems a trivial point, as Phoenix continues to rub the back of his head.
A sudden troublesome thought occurs to Edgeworth. Without thinking, Miles reaches out, turning Phoenix to face away from him by his shoulder. Phoenix startles a bit at this. “Ah, What are you doing?”
“Checking to see if you’ve been injured." Miles scolds himself internally for not thinking to look before. "I notice you’ve been rubbing the back of your head quite a lot. And a head injury would partially explain your amnesia.”
Miles is unable to make anything out, but there appears to be no blood. He cards his hand through the hair at the back of Phoenix’s head, to feel for bumps, and feels Phoenix shiver involuntarily.
“You alright? Did you feel something?”
Phoenix is staring straight forward, at something else in the room. “Ah…I…No, nothing hurt or anything like that. It’s a little sore, but more like maybe I slept on it funny. I might have collapsed on the couch after opening the box, now that I’m thinking about where I was when I got up…”
Phoenix sounds a little embarrassed, and Miles can make out the tinge of red at the tips of his ears. He clocks the very intense stare Phoenix is aiming somewhere else in the room, and Miles realizes suddenly what an intimate thing he’s doing, and he abruptly turns Phoenix back around.
“It doesn’t look like you’ve been injured, but you shouldn’t touch it very much or sleep until we’ve had a chance to have a doctor look at you.”
Phoenix smiles, nodding. “Thanks so much Miles. I really appreciate all your help.” He looks away, the blush from his ears spreading over his face. This Phoenix is much more shy, somehow less guarded than he usually was around Miles. Edgeworth wonders in the fog of his mind if this is the sort of person Phoenix is with people he really trusts, or else was the sort of person he was as a younger man. “I’m sorry for putting you out so much.” He looks crestfallen now. “I know you just came to pick something up, and now you’re all tangled up in whatever it is I’ve stumbled into.”
Miles frowns, shaking his head. “Don’t apologize to me Wright, you’re the one having the bad day. I’m happy to help.”
Phoenix is smiling at this, looking down, to the side, to all parts of the room, except towards Miles.
“Yeah. I’m just glad you’re here, Miles. You’re so helpful, and-” He turns to look at Miles then, full of fondness and admiration. He doesn’t quite finish his sentence, and then abruptly, embarrassed, he looks away.
“Um, Did that person on the phone…didn’t she say something about a kit?”
Miles blinks, realizing he’s just been sitting, staring wordlessly at Phoenix. “Oh yes. Ms. Fey-”
Phoenix turns to him then, putting a finger up. “Our friend.”
Miles gives Phoenix a reassuring smile. “Yes, our friend.” Phoenix beams, proud of himself. “She said you have apparently prepared something called an Amnesia kit, and it's in your desk.
“Ok.” He nods, resolute. “That’s my desk over there, isn’t it? I’ll go and check.”
Miles turns away as Phoenix gets up and walks over to his desk, sighing. It’s been quite a while since they’ve spent this long together. Miles and Phoenix had investigated and tried a case together not long ago, and that had been pleasant. Altogether too pleasant for Miles to deny the fact that he would always hold a torch for his good friend, and so Miles had been doing his best to avoid Phoenix if he could.
Except for work. Except for the occasional social get-together. Except for...anything Wright invited him to. Except for whatever he could get. Well, he was trying to avoid being alone with him anyway. Miles sighed again.
Being alone with him now was just as dangerous as it had always been, he reminded himself. It was difficult, however, to resist the feeling of being helpful, of being needed and admired by the person he cared for most. It wasn't that Miles didn't enjoy their current relationship as equals, but Phoenix often felt so far away, someone who didn't really need his help. It wasn't often that there were perfectly platonic reasons for him to provide for his friend.
“Hey look, Miles!”
Miles looks up, and Phoenix was smiling in awe and surprise, looking down at something he'd found in the desk drawer. He was placing a cardboard clothing box on the table with the words AMNESIA KIT taped onto the side. "I really have an honest-to-goodness amnesia kit."
Miles nodded, a little charmed by the ridiculousness of it all, because of course only someone like Phoenix Wright would have something so absurd. “Congratulations. If only you prepared for work half as much as you prepared for an extremely unlikely circumstance that could happen to only you.”
Phoenix laughs a little. “Hey, be nice. I’m going to remember that even when I get my memories back, you know?”
He carefully lifts the cover off of the box, and there’s a smart-looking blue binder inside, with a piece of paper tucked into the clear front pocket. Phoenix takes it out of the box, and reads aloud what’s on the cover. “If you’re reading this, your name is Phoenix Wright and you have been struck with Amnesia and have found your kit.” He whistles. “Now that’s a name for you. I thought Nick would be short for Nicholas, but really...wow…” He gives Miles a lopsided grin. “No wonder you stick to my last name.” He brings the box over to the coffee table, standing over it and showing Miles the binder first.
There was a tab marked READ FIRST. There were a few other items in the box; a few photographs, a small scuffed blue keychain, and some scattered newspaper clippings.
Phoenix is beaming, going straight for a photograph of Trucy gesturing at Apollo’s head peeking out of a pink and blue box. “Hey, you weren't kidding! It’s the magician! And maybe her assistant…” Miles doesn't doubt Phoenix is feeling a fondness for his daughter and former office mate, looking at the photo, even if he doesn't know precisely who they are to him in this moment. Phoenix laughs to himself, then suddenly seems a bit self-conscious. “Is it weird that I’m excited to find out about me?”
Miles smiles, unable to hide the fondness in his voice. “Not at all. You’re an extraordinary man, who’s led an extraordinary life.”
He gestures towards the cardboard box when Phoenix seems struck silent by the praise. “I mean, who else but you has something like this?"
He laughs then. “Who else but me…” he says, looking bashful and altogether too pleased with himself.
Miles nods at him, leaning back onto the couch to give Wright some space with his personal effects. He expects Phoenix will need some privacy. “Alright, well you should take a look then.”
Phoenix nods, but then unexpectedly, he picks up the box and comes to sit right next to Edgeworth.
“Oh Wright, you don’t have to-”
But Phoenix is already reading aloud the contents of the ‘read first’ tab, sitting right next to him, his thigh flush to Edgeworth’s in a way that was both overly familiar and pleasantly warm.
"Warning: This kit does not contain information about whatever is happening right now with you, specifically. This kit was created because you’ve gotten into this sort of situation more than once, it is not because the kit contains the answers to whatever danger you may be currently be experiencing. Make safety your priority before spending time going over the contents of the box.”
Phoenix shakes his head. “Dang. Oh well.”
He turns the page. “Contents: I put this together with relevant information about who I am and who I can trust, and some items that might jog my memory. This should get you started putting back the pieces together to solve the mystery you’re in.”
Miles nods approvingly, peering over Wright’s shoulder. “This is impressive.”
Phoenix laughs nervously. “It is? It seems kind of weird to me that I’d put this together just in case of amnesia…that’s pretty uncommon isn’t it?”
“Nothing is uncommon when it comes to you, I’m afraid.”
“You’re afraid?” Phoenix lightly taps Miles on the shoulder with mock offense. “Miles, amnesia’s not contagious, even I know that.”
“Not that we know of.” He crosses his arms in front of him defensively. “I wouldn’t put it past you to somehow contract the very first recorded instance of a contagious form of amnesia.”
Phoenix laughs, looking at him sidelong. “You know, you keep talking to me like I’m not that smart, but last time I checked I’m the only one of us here who has the nice organized binder.” He drums his fingers on the cover for emphasis.
Miles smiles at him fondly. “True enough.”
They peruse the contents of the first part of his nice organized binder. The first page starts with the basics, about who Phoenix is.
***
Who I am/ who you are
Name: Phoenix Ryuuichi Wright
Allergies: Aspirin (best not to ingest anything unsealed at this or any point)
Occupation: Defense Attorney
***
“Ah, so I’m an attorney. Makes sense.”
“How so?”
“Well, there's been a lot of mention about trial and court so far... Also, this conversational banter feels rather argumentative and quippy, but I’m enjoying it.”
Miles clears his throat, pointing to Phoenix’s full name, written at the top of the page. “Interesting. I’ve never heard your middle name.”
There was a brief description of court proceedings, and Miles finds he’s having an oddly pleasant time, as if he and Phoenix are sitting looking through a scrapbook socially, instead of trying to navigate an odd and previously distressing situation. Phoenix even laughs a bit, reading some of his binder aloud to Miles.
“Do not attempt to try a case with your current condition if you can avoid it. You may be tempted to do so and there may be a good enough reason, and you have won a case with amnesia before, but let’s not press our luck.”
He looks to Miles with a starry-eyed astonishment.
“I won a case with amnesia?!”
Miles shrugs. “I also didn’t know that. You must really be more put together than even I give you credit for.”
Phoenix gives Miles a wry smile. “Do you famously give me all kinds of credit?”
"No comment."
Phoenix laughs a bit at himself, and smiles bashfully. “I guess that means I’m the type who is always sort of fumbling around. Makes sense, after seeing the way I keep my office…” His smile turns a little sad. “I mean, it’s probably a bad thing that no one noticed I had amnesia...”
Miles gives Phoenix a look that’s meant to be warm and reassuring. “You’re known for bluffing your way through things, it’s true.” Miles finds himself wanting more than anything, for Phoenix to know how remarkable he is, and to make him smile without sadness again. “But you've also built a reputation for ardently pursuing the truth. It’s impressive all the same, Wright.”
“Thanks Miles. I really…appreciate that.” Phoenix holds his gaze just a little longer than Miles is expecting, before turning the page. “Alright, next section.”
This section contains descriptions of people you can trust, along with their contact info. Contact these individuals in descending order or speak directly to any of these safe individuals for help.
Miles frowns at the sentence that follows.
You are a(n) (in)famous lawyer and it would be safest to assume anyone not noted in this file is someone to avoid for now.
“I guess I really am always getting into trouble…” Phoenix laughs nervously. Miles puts a reassuring hand onto his back, rubbing a slow circle, while Phoenix peruses the list.
For the most part, the contents of the list are no surprise, and it is actually organized in a very logical way. At the top of the list were the people he’d most likely encounter in court on his side of the stand or at home; Trucy, Apollo, Athena, and even a footnote about Maya and Pearl.
That makes sense, thinks Miles to himself. His co-counsel and most knowledgeable, trustworthy, good friends, in the order he might likely encounter them on any given day. Miles nods approvingly.
“You certainly thought ahead.”
Phoenix smiles warmly. “That magician is my daughter? Well, I’ll be…" He shakes his head, shrugging. "I must be a little older than I thought I was…” He points to the bottom of the page, at Maya’s name. “Is this the Maya who you were just on the phone with?”
“Yes it is.”
“Ah I see. That checks out…” Phoenix’s eyes scan the page again, he frowns, and then he starts inspecting the back of the page, and skimming it with a finger over the words.
“Something wrong?”
“It’s just…I don’t see you here.”
Miles wasn’t sure how to feel about that himself.
“Aren’t you my best friend?”
Miles almost makes an involuntary sound at that.
“We’re coworkers, as I said. I don’t know if I’d say best friend…”
“Really? That’s surprising.”
Phoenix just trails off, without looking up, continuing to peruse the page. Miles could leave it at that, instead of pushing his luck. But curiosity gets the better of him.
“What’s so surprising about that to you? I thought you didn’t remember anything about me.”
Phoenix’s expression remains neutral, but Miles can see at this rather close distance that Phoenix is smiling just a little, and his cheeks reddening just a touch. “I guess I just feel that I trust you a lot. And you’ve been so helpful with everything since you got here.” He looks up at Miles then, fondly, warmly, with gratitude. “I’ll have to make sure you’re at the top of the page the next time I put one of these together.” He’s half joking, Miles can tell, but he doesn’t laugh. He just keeps staring at him. "Really though, if we are just work friends, I hope you know after all you've done for me today that I hope-"
Miles loudly clears his throat. He taps the page, to change the subject. “Ahem. Maybe you should take this contact information and see if you can’t get in touch with Apollo and some of the others, and see if they can tell you more about what’s going on and what we can do to help.”
Phoenix nods. “That’s a good idea.” Phoenix snaps the binder rings open to remove the page. “I think I’m feeling up to calling people now.” He puts the binder in Mile’s lap. “I’ll just be a moment then…Can you take a look at the rest of this for me?”
“What?”
Phoenix shrugs, starting to get up. “Far as I know the rest of the binder is all stuff I should know anyway, maybe you can read ahead for me while I make some calls? Let me know if you see anything else that’s helpful for the situation.”
Miles nods. “If you’re sure.”
“Thanks Miles.” Miles feels his brows meet in the middle of his forehead, at the sound of his first name spoken so casually by Phoenix, again. That bright, appreciative smile wasn’t making things easier, either. Phoenix walks away, taking his phone out of his pocket, and Miles can hear the short beeps as Phoenix dials a number on the paper in front of him.
Miles sighs, watching him go, feeling the absence of his warmth already. He turns to look at the binder, turning the page to find more people Phoenix had noted as possible contacts. There were a few brief descriptions of people who Phoenix apparently deemed safe but unlikely to be able to help or he’d rather ask after those options listed earlier had been exhausted; Ema Skye, Klavier Gavin, and even Gumshoe and Simon. But still, even here, no entry on Miles Edgeworth.
Edgeworth sighs through his nose, a little disappointed, if he was being honest with himself. A pang of guilt cuts sharply through his core. I suppose it makes sense I wouldn’t be here, given how reliable I’ve generally been as a friend through the whole of our relationship. Before he’d moved to Los Angeles for good, he’d been out of the country more often than not. Still, he noted that this seemed to be written since he had become Chief Prosecutor, as it included up-to-date information about Simon and Athena. His brows knit together, his frown becoming more pronounced at the thought. Perhaps he is still right to assume I would be likely busy or away.
But then when he turned the page, at the very top of the document labeled “People to Avoid,” he feels his heart sink into his gut at the sight.
There he was greeted by a solemn picture of his own face.
A disappointed hiss escapes him. Miles was a little more than hurt to see his name underlined in red ink on the very top of this page, along with a picture (clipped from a magazine?). It was almost comic overkill; none of the other entries had included a picture, nor had anything else been highlighted or underlined up till this point. It was as if this was truly the most important information to Wright; that Miles Edgeworth not be contacted in an emergency. Miles feels a great many feelings, all at once.
Does Wright really feel as if he can’t trust me, this much?
He notices a contradiction at the very top of the page.
Miles Edgeworth
Chief Prosecutor and childhood best friend.
Miles shook his head. Here it said, he was Wright’s best friend after all. Why would he call me that, if I’m someone to avoid?
Despite feeling hurt, Miles does feel his heart warm somewhat seeing this pithy description. Childhood Best friend? He had always thought that particular accolade belonged to their friend Larry, but he supposed Wright couldn’t be blamed for choosing him over that particular well-meaning flake. Still, the next line confirmed that he was filed firmly under the ‘do not contact’ category.
Do not approach this man if at all possible.
Bolded. Underlined. Serious and final. Dark and lonely thoughts twist around in his core.
But why?
“Hey Miles.”
Miles nearly jumps out of his skin, looking up to see Phoenix smiling at him. He’s holding his phone, and a piece of paper that seemed to have some hastily written notes on it. Once he has Miles’ attention, he looks to the paper and starts referencing it to report his findings.
“Just got off the phone with some of the people on my list.” He nods, and continues. “Athena Cykes and Trucy are on their way, but they have some investigating they are going to do first and said I’d probably be fine as long as I stuck with you. When I called Apollo Justice, Maya Fey was there and they said they knew what might be going on. Has something to do with a case Apollo is working on and probably that package that was open near the couch. It was some artifact from Kurai’n, if its vanished it means that now they have to do some weird ceremony or whatever,” He looks to Miles and shrugs “Those were her words, verbatim- And they’re going to work with Athena and Trucy and someone else named Simon to get things settled.”
He nods, seeming to be finished with his notes. He looks back up at Miles. “Long story short, my memory should be back by tomorrow, and they said we were good to go to the hospital now just to make sure everything was alright, and then I can rest at the office until I get better.”
Miles nods numbly. Phoenix gestures towards the binder in his lap.
“Anything else interesting?”
Miles calmly closes it. “No.”
Phoenix’s shoulders slump. “Dang. Too bad. Oh well.” Phoenix looks down, and then looks out the window out into the parking lot.
“Um, Miles? Did you drive here? Do you think you could take me to the hospital?”
“Of course. Yes. I…both. Both of those things. I drove here. I have a car. I can take you.” Miles gets up, picking up his keys, in a daze.
“...Are you ok, Miles?”
“I’m fine.”
***
It’s very quiet in the car on the way to the hospital. Phoenix stares out the window, lost in thought.
“So." Phoenix speaks up at one point, apropos of nothing.
"...We’re work colleagues.”
Miles looks at him out of the corner of his eyes, and sees that Phoenix expects a response to this statement. Miles just nods.
“...and that’s all we are?”
Mile’s eyes return to the road in front of them.
“That is a sufficient explanation of the current state of our relationship, yes.”
He hears Phoenix scoff a bit at this. “Sufficient." In his periphery, in the mirror of the car, he can see that Wright is smiling to himself. "I see..."
Phoenix doesn’t say anything else until they’re in the hospital parking lot, and Miles has stopped the engine.
“Miles.”
He turns to look at Phoenix, who is suddenly out of his seat, and then just as quickly, his mouth is on his own.
Miles finds he doesn’t have as much willpower as he liked to think he did, but he does stop the kiss, a little while after he’d sighed his heartbreak and yearning into Phoenix’s warm mouth and etched the memory of his lips into his brain.
“What do you think you’re doing?” He says breathlessly, when he finds the strength to push him away.
Phoenix smiles like the bastard he is, and starts to lean toward Miles again. “Just something I clearly didn’t have the guts for before, if all we are up to this point is coworkers...”
But Miles finds the single ethical bone in his body and pushes Phoenix away again, firmly.
“Come on, Miles.” Phoenix all but whines.
"You come on! What reason could you possibly have to do what you just did?!"
He pries Miles’ hand off of his chest where it grips his shirt, holding it tenderly in his warm hand. “Well...I obviously like you a lot."
Miles glares at Phoenix but doesn't pull his hand away, his jaw set so tight he can barely open his mouth wide enough to get the words out. "Perhaps you don't know this because you're addled, but that's not a valid reason to force yourself on someone!"
He gives Miles a smile that's entirely too charming and earnest. "What if I had reason to think that this particular someone likes me a lot, too?"
Miles can feel that he's blushing furiously, but he reminds himself that it's not as if Wright can read minds. "Irrelevant, because I've given you no reason this day to think I have any non-platonic feelings for you."
Phoenix closes his eyes, and it's infuriating how he has the gall to laugh brightly, and be as insightful has he is, just when it's least convenient for Miles. "No reason this day, huh?" He shakes his head, fondly. "Apart from your very careful wording, there were also quite lot of mirrors in that office, probably courtesy of the magician..." Phoenix looks away now, an embarrassed grin spreading and threatening to spill off of his face. "...You should see your face when you look at me, and you don't think I can see you."
He looks Miles in the eyes then, the golden afternoon light doing magical things to the color of his irises, as he searches Mile’s face intently, even hungrily. “So what do you think? Is ‘work colleagues’ really sufficient?”
Miles can’t give Phoenix an answer, but Phoenix smiles at him brilliantly, kindly, like the winner of some game Miles hadn’t known they were playing. He shrugs, rubbing a thumb into Mile's palm, his eyes full of stars, looking down at Mile's hand reverently. “I mean, if you kiss all your 'work colleagues' like that, I guess we could work something out.”
"I-" Miles’s core clenches with want, and then with remembered rejection.
“We shouldn’t do anything until your memory has returned.”
Phoenix laughs, and it's as charming as it is infuriating, as always. “What an interesting thing to say, because it’s sort of a dodge, but in another way, it isn't.”
Miles looks away now, remembering the bold and underlined words in the binder. “You barely know me right now.”
Phoenix sighs, squeezing Mile’s hand in his own again. “I think I know enough." He looks up at Miles. "I know how you treat friends, or at least me, when I need you." The small smile on his face grows. "And I know you’re funny, and smart, and cute. And you’re also…” he licks his lips, “...not UNinterested, best I can tell.”
“Preposterous." Miles says, weakly, staring at Phoenix's lips.
Phoenix laughs, fondly. “Preposterous he says. His face on fire…Miles Edgeworth, I’ll bet you…”
Phoenix puts a hand into his pocket, and retrieves a few crumpled dollar bills from it, and counts them. “Err…four dollars friendly, that you can’t say it's preposterous while looking directly at me.”
Miles doesn’t look at him.
“In fact…” Phoenix’s face falls just a bit, his mouth working faster than his brain, as usual. “...You haven’t looked directly at me since I left you with my binder.”
Miles finally wrests his hand away from Phoenix, who is now regarding him with a concerned curiosity.
“What did it say, Miles?” When Miles doesn’t answer, Phoenix smiles apologetically. “It can’t be that bad.” He laughs, but it has a nervous edge to it. “…What are you like, an ex-boyfriend or something…?”
Miles sighs, hurt, fully turning away from him now.
“That’s just what I mean. Aren’t you worried that there’s a good reason something hasn’t happened up until this point? What do you even know about me or our relationship?”
Phoenix looks thoughtful, and a lot less hurt or taken aback than he should. “Well gee. What do I know…” Phoenix presses fingers down with the palm with his other hand, counting the ways. “For one, I know you care enough about me that you’d come in person to check on me.”
“That was work-related.”
“Alright well...I know you must care a lot about your work, and you’re still derailing your whole day to help me." Phoenix presses down another finger. "I also know you are on a first name or nickname basis with some of the people I consider my most trusted friends, AND my daughter", he presses down a third, "AND none of them seemed particularly alarmed you were answering the phone for me or speaking on my behalf," Phoenix pulls down his pinky, "and they all trusted you to take me to the hospital.” He starts glancing sidelong at Miles, who he can see is unamused. “I also know you enjoy my company."
"You can't know that."
"I can see it on your face when we talk."
"That's weak, even for you."
"And you didn’t move away when I sat right next to you on the couch."
"I was simply being polite."
"And again, the look on your face when you were checking my head-”
“You don’t know what you’re saying!” Miles angrily cuts him off this time, and Phoenix only smiles, hands up, the picture of innocence.
“I’m only listing the things I can infer based what I've seen, and how I feel. And I know how I feel, I don’t care what you or some binder says about that.” He leans back towards Miles again, and when he sees that Miles doesn't retreat, his hand slowly comes to creep under his chin, lightly coaxing but not forcing Miles to turn to look at him. His voice goes soft, and his tone becomes intimate and filled somehow with both kindness and a naked, heavy yearning that made Miles shiver.
“I know how I feel, when I look at you.” He's so close, that Miles can feel his breath on his face as he speaks. It’s such a dreadful thing, every word out of Phoenix’s mouth a beautiful, painful reminder of what they could have had if they hadn’t messed it all up along the way, somehow.
“And how I feel when I hear you talk.” Phoenix lightly touches the corner of Miles’ mouth. Miles lets himself pretend for a moment, that this confession is happening in a world where that binder doesn’t exist. “And how I feel when I see you smile. And what I want, what I need, when you look at me, too-“
He can only do it for so long. Miles pushes Phoenix away.
“I found my entry in your binder.”
Phoenix blinks. “...Oh?”
Miles frowns. “It said you shouldn’t talk to me. That you didn’t want to talk to me.”
Phoenix doesn’t say anything for a beat, and then when Miles doesn’t continue, shyly asks, “...Are you going to tell me why?”
“See for yourself.”
Miles gestures towards the backseat, where Phoenix had tossed the binder. Phoenix takes one sidelong look at Miles before reaching back for it, and obediently opening it to read.
Miles and Phoenix sit in silence, as Phoenix reads. Miles can hear Phoenix swallow. He looks up at Miles, concern and embarrassment on his face.
“...Miles did you…How much of this did you read?”
Miles shakes his head, glaring at his hands white-knuckling the steering wheel. “I didn’t keep reading. It seemed like it would be a violation of your privacy at that point, if I’m not someone to even be trusted in an emergency.”
Phoenix is quiet again, for another small stretch. “What…What do you think it says here?”
“I don’t know. I’m sure you have your reasons, as to why I’m not to be trusted.” Miles is unable to keep the pettiness out of his voice.
Phoenix sighs. “Oh my God, Miles.”
Phoenix’s hand is draped over his eyes. He looks troubled, and tired. Miles hears him sniff, and for a horrible moment, Phoenix’s body shudders as if he’s starting to cry. His heart, already so broken, breaks into ever smaller pieces.
Oh Phoenix.
But then Phoenix starts to give voice to his shuddering breath, and it becomes very clear that he’s not crying at all. The sniffling turns into whispered, mirth-filled wheezes, which then turn into a peal of hysterical laughter.
“Whatever is so funny?” Miles asked, confused, almost angry.
Phoenix doesn’t answer. But when he’s done, he looks at Miles, smiling affectionately.
“Here.” He says, holding the binder out to Miles, as he makes to get out of the car. “Why don’t you take a look at this while I go get checked up?” He starts to get up to leave, and pauses, just before he exits the car. "...I can probably handle getting home myself, too, if I've made you uncomfortable."
"You have."
Phoenix winces, still keeping up the thin smile, as he walks out onto the pavement of the parking lot.
He does look surprised then, when Miles also gets out of the car, looking petulant. He slams the door, leaving the binder inside.
“Be serious, Phoenix. I'm not going to just drop an amnesiac off to fend for himself.”
Phoenix blinks, his smile going a bit uneven. He sighs through his nose, tired but acquiescent. “Of course you’re not.” He gently shuts the door on the car.
***
The doctor says Phoenix seems fine. There isn’t any sign of a concussion. There’s an uncomfortable moment where they ask Miles who he is to Phoenix, but Phoenix lets him answer for himself. We’re friends, he says, and Phoenix looks part relieved and part sad.
Phoenix doesn’t say much of anything the whole time, during the check-up, and during the ride back to the Agency.
When they get out of the car, Phoenix stops just outside the stairs to the building, turning to face Miles.
“Let’s talk.”
“You ought to head in, you’ve had an eventful day.”
Phoenix crosses his arms in front of him, making it very obvious that he’s not about to let this go. Miles sighs, exasperated, tired, sad.
“Look, Wright." Miles crosses his own arms in front of him, and he looks away. "I won’t hold you responsible for anything that’s happened without your memories. And I’m not upset about the kit, like I said, I’m sure you have your reasons.”
Wright scoffs. “Don’t give me that. You’re super upset.”
Miles throws his hands up in frustration. “…Well, who wouldn’t be?!”
Phoenix mirrors his gesture, approaching Miles with one palm up, the other holding his binder. “But that’s the thing! You don’t even know what you’re upset about.”
Before Miles can answer, Phoenix is pressing the binder into his chest.
“Read it.”
Miles holds it in his hands, regarding it cautiously. “I don’t want to violate your pri-”
“I’m telling you to do it.”
“You’re not in your right mind.”
Phoenix shrugs. “The doctor said there’s nothing wrong with me, and from Maya’s text messages, the problem should be resolving itself soon enough. I read what I put in there, and I agree with it. I might not remember every little detail of my past but I’m still Phoenix Wright.”
Miles grips the thin binder, with only the truth left to defend him.
“…I don’t know if I want to know what it says.”
Phoenix, instead of laughing at the sad little man in front of him, smiles fondly, and speaks pleadingly. “If you’re mad at me because I put you in an offensive category in my little binder, I think if you read why you’ll understand.” He forces a nervous laugh. “I'm also sorry I forced myself on you, I really thought I was reading the room right, but maybe I wasn't. Anyway, I guess I’m being selfish over here. I would really rather you at least not be upset with me without knowing everything.”
Phoenix shifts his weight from side to side, until he can’t wait any longer for Miles to respond. “Could you do it if it’s as a favor to me? And then I promise, you can go home if you want.”
Miles caves, like he was always going to. “Fine. Right now?”
Phoenix closes his eyes, resigned. “Please.”
Miles opens the binder.
Miles Edgeworth
Chief Prosecutor and childhood best friend.
Do not approach this man if at all possible.
And then he sees it.
You’re in love with him and he doesn’t know.
Miles might have had to read that particular sentence a few times, before its meaning could properly sink in. He looks up at Phoenix, who’s smiling sadly, his arms still crossed over his chest. He nods at the binder.
“Keep going. There’s more.”
Miles looks back down at the page.
You are currently good friends with this person. If encountered, this person will probably greet you like a friend or coworker. You will likely feel the urge to embrace this person or stare at this person or other things but you must be aware: This man is NOT your boyfriend.
A brief memory came to his mind, at this. Wright looks at him, probing carefully, ‘You’re my b….”
Miles puts a hand over his mouth, and feels his face growing hot.
Do not look at or talk to this man as if he is your boyfriend, which is to say, do not attempt to speak to this man at all. You admire this person more than anyone else, and owe this person a great deal. You probably love them way too much to suppress without context. It is too difficult a task on top of coping with amnesia.
Miles feels like he’s slowly collapsing in on himself like a dying star, each admission twisting and squeezing at his heart.
If you encounter this man and feel a bunch of feelings, just know that he is unaware of most of them and so for your own sake, this man is to be avoided for now at all costs.
With context you would understand that even a platonic partnership with this person whom you admire and care about is absolutely enough, and messing it up by saying something stupid or emotional is too much to risk.
Especially right now. While you have amnesia!
Miles sighs. It hadn’t just been him, all this time. All these years.
There is a non-zero chance you will encounter him in a work setting. If you end up going against him in a court case, your options are:
Have one of your assistants intervene
Announce (loudly) that you have amnesia and must go to the hospital (which you should have done by now unless something got in the way)
Keep all talk directed towards the case at hand.
Safe topics of conversation:
There are no safe topics
You already almost blow it every day even without amnesia
Don't be a hero
“So? What do you think?”
“God Phoenix.” Miles drags a hand down his face, slowly. “You’re such an idiot.”
He hears Phoenix nervously kick at the ground a bit, as he continues to collect himself.
“God you…I was…I was so troubled that a version of you had to specify that I shouldn’t be contacted in the event you were less than well. For a reason as…idiotic and trite as this!”
Phoenix scoffs, looking properly guilty, now. “Well, if the point was to keep me from telling you how I felt and messing everything up by I don’t know, trying to assault you in your own car, then it seems like the warning wasn’t without merit.”
“You aren’t some smooth-brained beast, and I’m not some weak-willed…you wouldn’t have…I would rather be the person at the top of the page under people you should contact.”
“I’ll make sure and amend it.”
“See that you do.”
Phoenix exhales, nervously. “That’s pretty funny though, right? It’s just been…a big misunderstanding.” He smiles, apologetically, hopefully, at Miles, and then looks down and away when Miles doesn’t smile in return. “...One thing though.”
“What is it?”
“Just, I think, for my own sanity, can you really look at me in the eye and say that the idea that you have any non-platonic feelings for me is preposterous?”
Miles only glares at Phoenix now. “Are you really saying you don’t know the answer to that question by now?”
Phoenix nods. “Ah, so that is preposterous.” Now he smiles sadly, his lips pressed together in a thin line, his beautiful eyes reflecting the golden los angeles sunset and pleading like never before with Miles. “But maybe the idea that you like me a little and you think you're hiding it well, is a little less than completely preposterous?”
Miles wants to be upset with Phoenix. He is upset with Phoenix. But more than that he’s floored, by the way the want in Phoenix’s eyes makes him feel. Something cracks within Miles. He throws up his hands. “God Phoenix, you’re such a fool, and I can’t believe you kept this from me.”
Phoenix, for his part, genuinely looks contrite. “...I’m sorry.”
Miles shakes the binder in his direction. “Why didn’t you tell me about this as soon as you read it?”
Phoenix’s shoulders shrug up to his ears, which are almost glowing bright red. “I don’t know. It was a little embarrassing I guess. Especially when I started considering that maybe you didn't feel the same way.”
He frowned deeply then, looking broken. “...And...you seemed so upset with me.”
Miles is angrily stomping towards Phoenix, closing the space between them. “That’s never stopped you before.”
Phoenix shrugs again, looking up just in time to see Miles approach. “I guess I-”
Miles brings them together, crashing his mouth into Phoenix’s mid-sentence, pushing him against the wall of the building. Phoenix is only stiff for a moment before he melts into him.
“Was I wrong?” He asks, gasping for breath, holding onto his jacket between them for dear life. "Aren’t you upset with me?”
“Oh,” Miles says, in between angry, petty, needy presses of his mouth onto Phoenix’s body, “You’re still getting a talking to.”
He grips Phoenix’s shirt harder. “About how you let me think for so many years that this was all one-sided on my end.”
Phoenix sighs, sweetly, kissed into oblivion, shaking his head. “I obviously didn’t know you felt the same-”
“You should have, you absolute fool.” Phoenix brings up a hand, Miles isn’t sure what for, but he catches his wrist anyway and pins it to the wall. “Otherwise you were willfully ignorant.”
Phoenix looks at him, curious, but breathlessly happy. “What?”
Miles pulls Phoenix towards him just an inch before slamming him into the wall again. Phoenix makes a sound halfway between coughing and laughing. “Don't play stupid with me. It took a brain-addled version of you all of a single afternoon around a handful of dusty mirrors to see that I loved you." He kisses Phoenix, angrily, hungrily, muttering angry and incoherent things into the hot skin of his neck. "Think logically, for once in your life. How much do you think a plane ticket costs? How easy do you think it is to change my schedule at your whims? Did you think I looked at everyone the way I look at you? Did you think that for me, there could possibly be anyone else?"
In the haze of his fury, Miles can feel the soft rumble of Phoenix's charming laughter. “You know, you're right, the more you...talk, the more this Phoenix Wright guy sure sounds like a big ol’ dummy, I can see why you're so...”
“Oh you don’t know the half of it. He’s all of that, and the smartest and most admirable man I know.” Miles holds Phoenix’s face in his hand, glaring at him. “If only he had believed in me. If only I’d been the sort of man that inspires belief and trust like he does.”
He's trying to be self-deprecating. He's trying to impress into Phoenix, just how wronged and cheated he feels. But Phoenix just looks absolutely starry-eyed, delirious, like he's been staring at the sun too long. But he's only looking at Miles.
“He can’t be all that great if he didn’t believe in someone who kisses as good as you.” He eagerly moves back in towards Miles, holding his bewildered face in his hands. “But if you like him that much, I can put in a good word for you.”
***
It's a little while before Miles regains enough composure to push Phoenix back and Phoenix lets out a disappointed sound that’s almost a whine. “You’re not off the hook either. You let me think for a miserable few hours that you had some other terrible reason why I deserved a special mention in his ‘do not contact’ list.”
Phoenix pushes past the half-hearted resistance Miles put up and buries his face into Miles’ neck.
“Can I make it up to you?”
“Oh, you’ll make it up to me.”
“Oh yeah?”
Miles shakes his head now. “It’s not going to be like that.” Phoenix whines, and who is he kidding. “...At least not all of it.”
But Miles is not a saint, and Phoenix had really, really pissed him off today. He leans over to pick the binder off the ground where it fell, thoughtfully brushing dust off the cover. “Some of the punishment must fit the crime.”
Miles smiles more cruelly then, pressing the binder into Phoenix’s chest between them, and he watches the eager besotted grin on Phoenix’s face fade somewhat.
“It’s a punishment after all. Which means you’re not allowed to enjoy it all, even if I will.”
Phoenix comes to some sort of realization. “You can’t possibly be serious. Right now? After everything-”
“Now.” He says, marching Phoenix up the steps into his office. “Or you get nothing else.”
***
By the time Athena and Simon drop Trucy off later that evening, her father has regained all of his memories. Or at least, that’s what Mr. Edgeworth assures her when she arrives, as Phoenix is slumped over his desk in front of his laptop, sleeping soundly, with Edgeworth’s heavy maroon jacket draped over his shoulders.
Whatever weird ceremony Maya and Apollo had arranged had apparently worked, as there was a cardboard box covered with duct tape, glowing slightly green in the dark corner of the office, which Athena promptly scoops up into her arms and tosses to Simon like a football, and then they’re out the door.
Trucy notices the way most people wouldn’t, that the coffee table and couch are uncharacteristically clear of paraphernalia, that Mr. Edgeworth’s cravat and shirt are a bit rumpled and he is unable to look her in the eye when he speaks to her. He worries at his lip with his thumb when he talks and is even cagier than usual when she asks what they’d been up to since getting back from the hospital. She also sees that there is a blue binder open on the desk, the one she remembers her father and Auntie Maya filling with his cringey and lovesick ramblings one evening after a baseball game.
She smiles innocently, asking Mr. Edgeworth why his shirt is inside out, and when he nearly has a heart attack before realizing it wasn’t, she just gives him a hug and tells him everything is fine, it’s never been better.
***
TO BE CONTACTED IN THE EVENT OF AMNESIA OR OTHER EMERGENCY
Miles Edgeworth
Chief Prosecutor, Best Friend & Romantic Partner
Very Smart and Good Looking Good at Kissing, see below for an extensive, annotated essay on how Great he is and how Forgiving and Merciful he is generally. Also see footnotes and addendums about what a Hippocrite Phoenix Wright is for Lying and Keeping the Truth away from his Very Wonderful Boyfriend.
Call this person immediately
Or he will make you spend another 3 hours on essays
(he loves you very much)