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It had been maybe three minutes since it was made apparent to everyone inside a certain building that their lives were in danger. Specifically, since it was made apparent to everyone inside a certain building that there was a bomb under their feet. And every unfortunate soul inside the prosecutor’s office of a certain district was a hostage.
Frankly the demands were juvenile. Stay away from a certain group, provide us with a sum of money, no one step out of the building until the deal is done or they’ll all go up in flames. And it wasn’t a joke, either. They had it on good authority that every word of that threat had been as true a fact as the sun producing light.
Chief Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth stood with his hands braced against the surface of his desk, leaned over the counter with his bangs falling into his eyes as he tried to breathe.
All he could think about was his friends. His family. The people he loved and all the apologies he hadn’t had the chance to make. Detective Gumshoe, who’d been by his side for seventeen years and counting, Kay and Sebastian, who may as well’ve been his kids, Franziska, his sister in everything but blood, Agent Lang, as prickly as he could be, the Fey girls, Lana and Ema Skye, Phoenix and Trucy--
Phoenix and Trucy.
Oh God, Phoenix and Trucy.
He heard himself inhale sharply, and he knew what happened next. Falling back into his desk chair, he swiftly pulled at his jabot and put a hand over his eyes, gripping the arm of his chair with the other as soon as its task was completed. ‘Don’t cry, don’t panic, don’t cry,’ he repeated in his head, don’t don’t don’t don’t-- But he might never see them again. An icy chill seized his heart in that moment, and he couldn’t breathe anymore. He might never see them again? Trucy’s magic shows and her brilliant beaming smile after pulling off any one of her many fabulous tricks? Phoenix’s heartfelt laugh that could melt frost in an instant? The Wrights and their beautiful, magnificent, loving faces?
The world might try to take that away from him, them--?
Then he remembered where he was.
Franziska was here. His little sister, his rival, his equal. So was Simon Blackquill, only two years released from a sentence he never should’ve gotten in the first place, there was Klavier Gavin, the angel, despite his unusual demeanor and somewhat unprofessional habits, and Nahyuta Sahdmadhi, Wright’s apprentice’s brother, and-- and--
And he couldn’t let them die. With a start, Miles jolted straight up, banging his knee into the underside of his desk, but oh how little he cared. He picked up his phone, and it had been maybe five minutes since it was made apparent to everyone inside a certain building that their lives were in danger, and he hit the first name in his contacts list and watched his phone ring.
“Hey, Love, what’s up? Work stressing you out?” Miles was trembling. He swallowed hard before he answered.
“No,” he said softly, simply. Too soft. Too simple.
“Oh really? So you mean to say you called me just because? You miss me? Awww, that’s so uncharacteristically sweet of you!”
“It’s been,” Miles checked his watch, “perhaps six hours since we last saw one another, Wright,” he said.
“Naw, you’re no fun.”
“I just wanted-- I wanted to tell you how much I… enjoyed dinner. Last night,” he settled on. God, he was shaking so much.
“Dinner? Really? That’s the best you could come up with?” Edgeworth forced himself to make a sound usually associated with indignation.
“I mean it, Wright,” he said, voice still too genuine, too simple. “I always enjoy spending time with the two of you. I don’t…” He coughed. “I don’t say it nearly enough.”
“...What is this about?”
“Nothing,” he breathed, wincing at how unconvincing he sounded. “I simply wanted to make sure you understood my appreciation for our time together.”
“Edgeworth, what’s wrong? What happened? Do I need to beat someone up?” Miles laughed. An actual, genuine chuckle.
“No, Wright. Everything is just fine.”
His hands were shaking, but his voice was steady now, if a bit soft.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I am perfectly certain.” His heart clenched at his own lies. He refused to be the one who let Phoenix know. If it were up to him, he never would know just exactly what was happening right that moment. But the world was never that simple, now, was it. He’d learn eventually, most likely sooner rather than later, but for now, he was in the dark. For now, he was just on the phone with his husband, talking about nothing at all. “Really, is it so hard to believe that I’m just calling to state the obvious?”
“Edgeworth…”
“I love you,” he said. Steady. Soft. Earnest.
“...You aren’t planning on faking your death again, right? You’re being weirdly sentimental and it’s scaring me.” Miles chuckled despite himself.
“No… no, I’m… nothing that serious…”
“Okay, if you say so… But really. I love you too, Miles. Please come home.”
“I’ll see you tonight, Love.”
“Okay. See you.”
Click.
●・○・●・○・●
He slipped his phone back into his pocket and rolled his shoulders back, taking a deep breath. He closed his eyes and pictured his bedroom, the warm bed and its puffy comforter and his dog and his family.
The office door closed behind him with a snap, and Miles Edgeworth stepped into the hall. He had a mission, and there was no time to waste. ‘I cannot be afraid,’ he thought to himself. ‘So I won’t be.’ Steeling himself once more, he started down the hall to the next occupied office.
Franziska was standing at her desk with one hand curled into a tight fist, the other clutching the phone at her ear. She was as white as a sheet and her eyes were red and watery. She made eye contact with Miles and, shaking, lowered her phone to the table. She swallowed hard.
“Miles Edgeworth,” she said, desperately trying to retain her usual strength and condescending tone. She was failing.
“Come, Franziska,” he said softly. He crossed into the office, stopping in the middle. Franziska swore in her native tongue before straightening up and putting her previously clenched hand to her mouth. Her eyebrows drew up. Miles was reminded of a day roughly seventeen years in the past in which he and this little girl stood side by side with a gun pointed at them. They’d made it out.
When he had circled around the desk to face his sister fully, he wasn’t entirely certain, but he found himself bringing her into a tight hug. Franziska gasped, letting a sob be muffled in his shoulder. Miles had no way of knowing that she was thinking of the same event he was. In Franziska’s mind, she could picture with absolute clarity her little brother, frozen in place with the barrel of a gun pointed square at his chest. She remembered perfectly how she’d screamed and fallen backwards, but Miles hadn’t. He didn’t move. Kay Faraday had saved him then, but Kay Faraday was no miracle worker.
Franziska was so proud of her little brother, as she returned his embrace and tried not to ruin his white button down with her tears.
“What do you want for dinner tonight?” Miles whispered into her hair. “I’ll take everyone. You and Maya Fey, Phoenix and Trucy, anyone else. Your choice.” Franziska had half a mind to punch him. She didn’t.
●・○・●・○・●
Klavier Gavin was pacing a small canyon into the wood of his office floor, singing softly to himself in German. It was a song Edgeworth vaguely recognized from somewhere deep in his memory, but he swore he heard Franziska repress a sharp sob when they walked through the door. As they did, Klavier froze dead in his tracks and looked at them with the least characteristic expression Miles had ever seen on him.
The young man was positively petrified for just a split second before his usual mask of confidence descended over his features. It didn’t look nearly as convincing as it usually did, however. Klavier cleared his throat.
“Herr Edgeworth, Fraulein von Karma,” he said, wincing when his voice broke on the third syllable of Franziska’s name.
“Come,” Edgeworth said simply, inclining his head back towards the door. Gavin only stared at him. “Klavier Gavin, I swear to you,” he continued gently. “You and I and everyone else in this office will leave unharmed.” Franziska nodded and stepped forward to stand beside her brother.
“As a matter of fact,” she began, voice shockingly steady given the events of roughly four minutes past, “I am so certain of this that I will extend to you an invitation to dinner tonight. We are having Italian. With the Wright Anything Agency.”
Miles glanced at her. She stared resolutely over Klavier’s right shoulder. Klavier cracked a watery smile.
“I think I will take you up on that offer,” he said.
●・○・●・○・●
Blackquill was still seated at his desk, elbows on the surface framing the half-filled-out pile of documents before him. He had his head in his hands with his phone pressed to one ear. He did not look up when they entered.
“...Please,” he said to whoever was on the other end. “I need to speak to her now.” It took no genius to determine his plight. The man once christened as the ‘Twisted Samurai’ did not notice as Edgeworth strode over to his desk and snatched his phone straight out of his hand. He looked up in surprise as Edgeworth gave him a quick, neutral glance before bringing the phone to his own ear and deigning to stare out of the wide window into the city beyond.
“I’m sorry sir, but I cannot allow--”
“Hello, officer,” said Miles calmly, aware of the way Blackquill’s eyes bored into him. “My name is Miles Edgeworth. I’m sure I do not have to relay to you my position or status, but in case I must, I am the Chief Prosecutor of a certain district.” He paused to let his statements sink in.
“S-S-Sir, I am so s-sorry but I cannot simply--”
“Officer.” Edgeworth was well aware of just how little authority he held over this specific scenario, but he refused to lose this argument. “I am hereby ordering you to honor my employee’s request. You will allow him to speak with his sister, or you and your immediate superiors will face rather unpleasant consequences.” He hoped this officer was just as foolish as the rest of them. “Do you understand?”
“I-I--”
Despite the futility of it all, Edgeworth’s glare sharpened into knives.
“Do. You. Understand.”
“I- Y-Yes, Sir,” the officer stammered. “Right away, Sir!” Miles nodded and offered Blackquill his phone. The other was staring directly at him in unconcealed shock.
“Come,” he said to him, making for the door. “We have a dinner to discuss. I’m sure Ms. Cykes would be delighted should you attend.”
●・○・●・○・●
Edgeworth guided his small group down the first flight of stairs. Franziska and Klavier were talking to each other in German, plain topics such as the weather and work, while Blackquill listened to his sister interrogate him as he tried to convince her he simply felt like calling.
Both Simon and Miles knew full well that Aura was too smart to fall for it.
Miles kept his eyes firmly ahead of him as they approached the eleventh floor door. His hand had just met the handle when Franziska’s phone rang, and she hastily pulled it out of her pocket, almost dropping it in the process.
“...Maya Fey,” she said, the tremor in her voice only noticeable to someone who had known her as long as Miles had.
Nahyuta was one of seven officers who worked on the eleventh floor. He looked up, startled, when Edgeworth pushed his door open. So startled, in fact, that he dropped his phone. His hands were shaking.
Edgeworth registered that there was someone on the other end of the line as he crossed the room, leaning down and returning the phone to its owner. Edgeworth nodded silently to the group gathered at the door, and Nahyuta swallowed hard before nodding back.
He raised his phone to his ear as he followed Edgeworth out. “Apologies, Apollo. Could you repeat that?”
The group grew from five to twelve. Twelve to seventeen, seventeen to twenty-six by the time they reached the seventh staircase.
Upon stepping into the seventh floor hall, another ferocious chill struck the Chief Prosecutor. He skipped the first three doors and instead pushed open the fourth, blood rushing in his ears. The door fell shut as he stepped into the room, and everything was quiet, empty. “Sebastian,” said Edgeworth after a moment or two. The sound of a caught breath split the otherwise silent air. “Sebastian,” he repeated. “Come here.”
Moments later Miles caught an armful of his petrified protege, Sebastian’s breathing shallow and far too quick.
“M-Mr. Edgeworth…” he whimpered, muffled in the fabric of Edgeworth’s shirt. “I-I’m scared…”
“I know,” Miles replied quietly. It was all he could really say.
“I don’t wanna die…”
“We won’t. Not today, at least. I promise you, Sebastian.”
“You can’t promise that!” The younger sobbed, grip tightening in the fabric of Edgeworth’s suit jacket. “T-That’s not something you c-can control..!”
“Ah, but I can,” said Miles, impressing himself with his own cool tone. “And I do. Promise. We aren’t dying today.”
“I know you’re lying.”
“I’m not.”
“I can hear your heartbeat.” Miles paused. Then he sighed.
“I’m not lying. I have full confidence in my claim, Sebastian. I swear I do. But I’m only human,” he replied. “I didn’t claim the process would be relaxing.” Sebastian almost laughed.
“I-If you’re wrong, I’ll… I’ll..! I-I’ll sue you! I’ll sue you for all you’ve got, S-Sir!” Miles stepped back, and Sebastian swiped at his face with the back of his sleeve. A pointless endeavor, as tears still streamed down his face.
“Well, it certainly is a good thing that I’m not, then,” he replied, a thin smile playing on his face.
●・○・●・○・●
Both Winston and Gaspen Payne were in Winston’s office on the sixth floor. Winston was shakily trying to assure his daughter that Daddy would be home for dinner.
Gaspen was curled up against the front of his brother’s desk, knees to his chest with his hands over his head. He was hysterical.
“B-Boss?” Winston stammered in surprise. Edgeworth gestured behind him with his head to the growing group.
“Let’s go.” Winston quickly finished his conversation with his daughter (“I love you more than anything, tell your mother that, too”) and grabbed his brother’s arm, pulling him up and out the door.
About halfway down the staircase from floor six to floor five, Edgeworth’s phone rang. Without taking his eyes off the path in front of him, he extracted his phone from his pocket and hung up, not even bothering to check the number.
It rang again.
The third time he finally picked up, desperately forcing his voice to remain neutral and cool as he flung the fifth floor door open.
“What?”
“BOOOOOOOOOOSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!” Shouted the familiar voice on the other end. “Boss are you okay!? How are you!? Are you hurt!? Scared?! Oh you must be so scared! It’s okay! It’s okay! I promise you’re going to be okay!”
“Shut up, Detective,” he replied, voice alarmingly flat even to himself. Immediately the other person complied. “I’m fine.”
“Of course you’re not fine! Don’t lie to me, Sir, not this time, please!” The sincerity of Gumshoe’s tone made him wince. He glanced behind him and made eye contact with Franziska, who nodded at him, eyes still red and wet. She began opening the doors and dragging out officers. Blackquill joined her and Klavier tried to assure the newcomers with his charming, if forced, gentle smiles. “I know you, Sir. You can try t’ hide it all you like, but you’re a normal person just like everyone else. …It’s alright to be afraid, y’know.”
Edgeworth closed his eyes.
“...Not right now. Not right now, I can’t. And so I won’t be. For their sake.” For a moment the detective was quiet.
“Every single one of you is going home tonight,” said Gumshoe. His voice was solid, strong, filled to the brim with resolve. “I promise. Just you wait.” Miles bit his lip.
“Thank you, Detective,” he whispered.
“Of course, pal.”
●・○・●・○・●
They’d just finished clearing the third floor when about sixteen phones went off in rapid succession, if not all at once. That included Edgeworth’s. He wanted to sink into the floor. He could tell from the look on Klavier’s face that he felt the same horrible feeling he did, could tell from the way Franziska’s gaze softened into a sort of painful adoration, from the way Blackquill leaned against the wall with his arm braced against his head.
He hit accept before he could consider hanging up.
“... Love,” he whispered.
“WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME?!” Miles winced as his heart clenched, his chest suddenly feeling far too tight. He could practically see the worried expression on his partner’s face, furrowed brow and tearful eyes narrowed in a scathing glare. He heard Blackquill beside him mumble something. (“Athena, I…”)
Klavier tried to hide a sob behind a laugh and past the murmur of the crowd, Miles could make out the harsh voice of Apollo Justice yelling through the normally unflappable rockstar’s phone. (“IS NAHYUTA THERE?! I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU! YOU DIDN’T CALL! ARE YOU OKAY?!”)
(“Liebe, Nahyuta and I were--”
“Athena, please, you’re hysterical--”
“Maya I beg of you, my darling--”)
“MILES! ANSWER ME!” Edgeworth jumped back to the present with a start, nearly falling down the stairs he’d paused in front of when everyone began getting calls. He held the door open as he ushered his employees past, closing his eyes and leaning against the wall. He listened to Phoenix-- beautiful, kind, brave, perfect Phoenix scream at him with terror and worry in his voice. He opened his eyes when Nahyuta gently pushed him off the door. He and the other three had waited for everyone else to pass.
“My darling,” he said, freezing halfway down the first step when he heard how shaky his own voice was. Phoenix stopped. “I swear to you…” Miles swallowed hard around the emotion clogging his throat, “I swear to you that I will see your face tonight.”
“Miles--”
“Phoenix Wright, I swear,” he forced out, “I promise you. I love you too much to lie.” On the last word his voice broke. And before he could think any better of it, he hung up.
●・○・●・○・●
At the very least, the foyer looked exactly the way it should. One of the receptionists was crying into the shoulder of her coworker, whose face was blank but pale. Everyone was accounted for, most of them on calls with their loved ones or trying to bring comfort to one another.
Edgeworth’s phone rang again, and this time a different voice was screaming at him through the speaker.
“MILES EDGEWORTH!” Rang the voice of Eddie Fender, tense in a way Miles had never heard him.
“Fender,” he replied, as evenly as he could manage. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“YOU KNOW EXACTLY WHAT I’M CALLING ABOUT!”
“I do.”
“SO STOP PLAYIN’ THAT GAME WITH ME! ARE YOU OKAY!? ARE YOU SAFE!? IS LIL’ SEBASTIAN THERE TOO?!” Miles took a deep breath.
“Fender, I beg of you. Please take a deep breath.”
“ABSOLUTELY NOT, BOY! AS FAR AS I’M CONCERNED, I’M PERSONALLY IN CHARGE OF YOUR SAFETY, AND I AM ABSOLUTELY FREAKING OUT!”
“I can tell,” Miles replied, surprising himself with the hint of a chuckle that had leaked into his voice. Then a different thought struck him. “Do you know where Kay is?”
“I-- I d- no… No, I don’t..! I just-- Miles!” Edgeworth could’ve sworn the defense attorney was crying. “Miles, I--”
“Please find Kay for me,” said Edgeworth, suddenly struck by a horrible thought. “I beg of you.”
“Miles, I can’t lose another one of you.” And this time, Miles was certain the defense attorney was crying. The admission almost saw him drop his phone, but he stared resolutely at the wall instead, tightening his grip. “It was hard enough the first time, and I-- After seeing you grow-- Watching you take after him-- I-- Miles--”
“I’m taking some colleagues out to dinner tonight,” he interrupted softly. “Phoenix, Trucy, Franziska, Maya and Pearl Fey-- you’ve met them, haven’t you?-- Wright’s subordinates and a few of mine, including Sebastian. Are you free?”
“Yes,” came the reply, “of course I am. Always free.”
“I’ll see you tonight, then.”
“Hey, wait, I--”
Miles silenced his phone and put it face down on one of the tables situated in the lobby for visitors. He walked over to the receptionists, quickly conferring with the stoic one about the doors. She confirmed that she had already locked them. Miles thanked her and stalked back to where the congregation of Franziska, Simon, Klavier, Nahyuta, and Sebastian had gathered, to the farthest front-most corner near the doors. It seemed Franziska and Simon had had the same thoughts he had.
●・○・●・○・●
Two hours and forty-five minutes later, the doors were unlocked.
Instantly, three quarters of the room was on its feet as six detectives walked in, including one with a dark green trench coat. For a moment, there was silence. Detective Gumshoe looked at Edgeworth and smiled.
“You all are free to go.”
Had it not been for the great number of people behind him, Miles would’ve fallen to his knees. Instead, he nodded at Gumshoe and raised a hand to the cheering crowd of prosecutors. As soon as he had their attention, he spoke.
“Expect the next several days off,” he said simply, and then he stepped aside. Or, at least, he tried to step to the side. For as he made the attempt to do so, two twin shrieks pierced the air.
“MR. EDGEWORTH!!!”
He turned around just in time to be tackled by two girls, one with long black hair and the other in a silk top hat. “Oof--”
“Mr. Edgeworth..!” Sobbed Kay, squeezing him in a tight hug as they moved as a group out of the way of the doors. Miles coughed. “I was so worried!”
“Ah-- Kay, dear, if you wouldn’t mind--”
“Do you have any idea how scary it was when we heard the news!?” Cried Trucy, somehow managing to sound indignant through her streaming tears.
“Trucy darling, I apologize--”
“I could hardly breathe on the way here I was so worried!” Kay interrupted before he could finish.
“Girls, really, I must implore you--”
“Kay Faraday and Trucy Wright,” came Franziska’s voice, though with less conviction and far more affection than she usually carried in her tone. Instantly Kay snapped up and attacked her with a fierce embrace, eliciting the same response Edgeworth had had.
“Aunt Fraaaaan!” She cried into her shoulder. Franziska awkwardly returned the hug, extending Miles a hand from around the girl’s body. As soon as Kay had decided she’d strangled Franziska enough, she moved on next to Klavier and Sebastian, wrapping them in a doubly suffocating group hug from the necks. Trucy still clung to Miles, and he tried not to acknowledge Simon and Nahyuta who were still observing from the corner. Though really, they were much too preoccupied with their own abating panic to care very much about blackmail. Trucy sniffled.
“Trucy,” said Miles softly, squeezing her shoulder gently. Franziska knelt down and took one of her hands.
“I was so scared,” the young girl whispered. “I didn’t want to lose another Daddy.” She turned her watery gaze on Franziska. “Or an Auntie.” She looked beyond them to the others, “or an Uncle or a Cousin or anyone else.”
“Never,” whispered Franziska. “You’ll never lose me. Or us.”
“I almost did.”
“But you didn’t. And you won’t. And you know it’s true,” Miles said with a soft smile. “Because just like you, I’m always Wright.” Trucy chuckled a tiny bit, and it was enough. He let his tired smile widen.
“Edgeworth-Wright, you mean.”
“Still, always Wright,” said Franziska, matching her brother’s expression. “We’ve decided on going to dinner tonight. I assumed you’d like to come along?” Trucy nodded.
“With everyone?” She asked.
“With everyone,” the two prosecutors confirmed.