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“Goodnight, Truce. I’ll see you in the morning,” a quick kiss on the forehead as he sends her off to bed, the girl groggily dragging her feet toward her room.
“‘Night, Daddy. I love you,” she mumbles, unable to keep her eyes open any longer.
“Love you too, sweetheart.” Seeing her off, he shuffles to his own room in their small apartment, not even bothering to change clothes as he flops onto the bed in almost exaggerated exhaustion. However, a wrench is thrown in his plans as he has to pause to groan and roll over to dig out the uncomfortable lump from his pant pocket that so rudely interrupted his boat ride to dreamland.
Rolling it over in his hands, the familiar green glow of his trusted magatama brings a fond smile to his face as he sighs, recalling the good and bad times this particular vein of eccentricity has brought him, including all the new leads it helped uncover in the many years he’s had need of it. He closes his eyes, holding the magatama with the memories close to his heart, where he intends to hold them to keep him moving forward.
He lets the memories fade into the comfort of the dark as he starts to drift off, his mind looking through the quiet recesses of his head. Maya, Trucy, Apollo and the others… they all mean so much to him.
…Then... why am I…so…
!!!!
He shoots up in a cold sweat, the all-too familiar rattling of chains and the metallic clunk of heavy load-bearing locks echoing through his mind. Suddenly the dark didn’t seem quite so comforting as it once was. His gasps for air are the only sound through the room as he frantically loosens his tie to ease his tight lungs. Was it some sort of nightmare? He could swear he hadn’t drifted to sleep yet, and for it all to happen so fast!
His thoughts finally rest and his heaving slows as he finds the magatama in his lap, glowing reassuringly in its usual way. No way… It can’t be.
His brow furrows in disbelief before he lets the feeling go, thinking over the possibilities and deciding that he’s seen and experienced much weirder things. He rubs his thumb over the smooth surface of the stone. Phoenix Wright seems to be lying to himself, one way or another, and the psyche locks that steel themselves around his mind seem to say as much.
He shakes his head, actually getting up to get ready for bed, dressing down to a much more appropriate attire for sleep. The man he stares at in the mirror as he brushes his teeth only seems to mock him though, keeping behind literal lock and chain a secret he didn’t even know he had.
“I’ll get to the bottom of this, just you wait,” he says pointedly to himself. Shuffling back into his room, he grabs the magatama and lays back down, curling up and holding it to his chest, readying himself for whatever was to come as he closed his eyes.
Let’s try this again. His mind drifts back into the comfort of the dark, reaching for the question that had wedged its way past his head and straight to his heart. After a moment, it finally comes to light.
Why am I so lonely?
The familiar chains shoot by, soon accompanied by the heavy clunk of the locks—four of them it seems—deep, dark, and black. Unbreakable. His hands clench around the stone. What could he possibly be keeping from himself? He wasn’t lonely, he certainly didn’t feel that way! He had Trucy, Apollo, and Maya. He even had Edgeworth, when the man found himself in the country for one reason or another.
The black lock throbs in response, making his body go numb and his mind buzz in equal intensity, feeling a judge’s patience getting knocked down a peg or two. (Geez, each transgression will be paid back in full punishment, huh?) But he couldn’t think of anything else, and he felt that if he kept pressing with the same thought, he would get nowhere fast.
He releases a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, putting the magatama aside for now, shoving it to the list of tomorrow’s problems. He just didn’t get it. There wasn’t a reason to feel like that! But he could guess that that’s just what came with keeping a secret from yourself.
The morning brings a new day and a new cup of coffee, the dark liquid bringing vaguely good memories for getting him up in the morning, at least when it didn’t get thrown in his face across a courtroom. He takes another sip before taking to the contacts in his phone, locating ‘Miles Edgeworth’ on the list.
[ Today 9:32AM ]
[ PW: figured texting you at this hour would be fine either way, but are you in town? I need to ask a favor ]
He rereads through the message a couple of times before sending it, wondering what exactly he would do if Edgeworth was in Germany, or just somewhere in Europe. He would probably just push this issue to the back of his mind and stuff it down for later, but he knows that doing that would only make it worse.
“Good morning, Daddy!” a voice calls from behind him.
“Hm? Oh, good morning, Truce. You want some breakfast? Eggs? Maybe a Poptart?” he smiles, ruffling his daughter’s hair, arising a giggle out of her.
“Eggs would be good! Oooh, maybe some bacon too!” her mouth already watering, she sits down at the counter while her dad gets up out of his chair, leaning down to plant a kiss on her cheek before heading into the kitchen.
“Hahaha, I’ll see what we have, Little Miss Drool,” he laughs, opening the fridge and finding the aforementioned bacon and eggs, pulling them out onto the counter and turning on the heat of the stove. He gets them started in the pan before his phone buzzes in his pocket.
[ ME: Count yourself lucky, Wright, I just happen to be in town for a while. What is it that you need my help with? ]
He sighs in relief, thanking whatever gods were at play to allow him to have this small blessing.
[ ME: You don’t need me to play defense attorney again, do you? If so, I’m afraid I have to decline. ]
[ PW: haha! no nothing like that ]
He types out another response, his hand shifting to his pant pocket to feel the smooth stone of the magatama, rubbing it with his thumb before hitting send. Well, there was no turning back now.
[ PW: it is a personal matter though so i would appreciate it if we could go somewhere private? maybe your place if that’s alright? ]
[ ME: Is there something wrong with dealing with this issue at your apartment? ]
He frowns.
[ PW: sorry, i just don’t want Trucy to have to deal with this as well ]
“Daddy!”
“Hm? What’s that, Truce?”
“You’re burning the bacon.”
“Oh geez--!!” He quickly fishes them out and flips them over, the oil popping a little too close to his face and hands for comfort. Guess they’ll just have to have partially burnt bacon for breakfast. The initial panic over, Wright resumes looking at his phone, this time keeping a slightly better eye on the skillet.
“... Hey, Daddy?” Trucy pipes up, leaving her spot at the counter and making her way to the kitchen.
“Yeah, Truce?” he responds, putting his phone away.
“Is something wrong? You keep messing with your phone and something in your pocket.”
“Oh, it’s nothing, don’t worry about it,” he says maybe a little too quickly. He tries to pay his attention back to his phone, getting it out again, but it was already too late, Trucy was onto him.
“Oh yeah? Then what’s with your magatama? Is there something wrong?”
“Eh? What do you--hey!” Trucy already had it, proudly teasing him with it in her hands. He quickly snatches it from her, “You know I always have it with me, sweetheart!”
“Daddy…” she warns.
“Alright, okay, okay, I give, I give!” It really was impossible trying to lie to her. When did she get so good at seeing through him? He swore that her magic just kept getting better and better every day.
“Everything’s fine, Trucy. There really is nothing to worry about. Daddy just… needs to work through some things.” He pokes at the bacon again, taking them off the heat before they got too burnt. Another check of the phone, reading the text he is given and typing back a response.
[ ME: I see. ]
[ ME: Would you mind telling me what this is about? ]
[ PW: it’s kinda something that’s better handled face to face to be honest ]
[ ME: Is it a serious matter? ]
Wright frowns. For a moment he tries to think of ways to downplay the situation, but ultimately he decides that it’s not really something that should be taken so lightly to be graced by his sense of humor.
[ PW: yes. ]
“... You’re going to be okay, right, Daddy?” he can feel Trucy’s piercing eyes on him. She was always so smart and always so perceptive, almost too much so for her own good. It was a little hard to believe she ever put up with him, and looking her way wasn’t much better. She gives him a look he’s seen many times before, one that held so much knowing, so much pain, and still so much memory. He hates to admit that he’s been on the receiving end of it too many times to count.
“Of course, Trucy,” he smiles at her, “Daddy’s going to be alright. It’s nothing too serious, but it is serious enough that Daddy needs to take care of it,” her worried pout catches him again, “And don’t you worry, Uncle Miles is going to help me with this one.”
At that, her offenses laxed, at least trusting her Uncle Miles to keep an eye out for her Daddy. He was smart and dependable, and one of the only people able to keep her Daddy in check, though no one was really able to keep the man from trouble. Not even him.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” she asks hopefully.
“You just keep smiling for me, Truce, that’s all I need,” he ruffles her hair and pulls her into a hug, her giggles pressing into his body as she squeezes back tightly.
“Can do, Daddy!” she responds, already in a better mood.
Pulling her away, she displays one of her award winning smiles, her eyes shining like always.
“Maybe have breakfast with me, too. Burnt bacon isn’t gonna eat itself, y’know,” he says, shoveling the scrambled eggs onto a plate and bringing them to the table.
The morning is then filled with chatter and laughter as Trucy excitedly tells of her plans for her next show and they each take their turns wincing over burnt pieces of bacon that hit their taste buds the wrong way. Wright can only hope to wash it down with his coffee, but Trucy is left on her own to try to drown out the taste with the eggs.
When Wright looks at his phone again, there isn’t a text from Miles Edgeworth indicating a response. Maybe the man on the other end is contemplating his schedule and what he has open, or maybe he’s deciding whether or not to accept Wright’s favor, knowing that he knew nothing about it. Either way, he is able to finish his eggs and get halfway through his coffee by the time his phone buzzed again.
[ ME: I can pick you up from your apartment at 10:30. ]
He feels a smile inch across his face, though for reasons he couldn’t exactly pin. It was around 10:10, so he had a little bit of time. He sets his phone down on the table, Trucy already in the kitchen to start clean-up. “Hey Trucy?” he says, getting her attention, “Uncle Miles is going to pick me up in a little while and I don’t know how long we’ll be, will you be alright on your own?”
“Of course!” she says, “You can count on me, Daddy! No problem!”
He smiles, reassured. “Alright then. Make sure you don’t burn down the house or nothing while I’m gone, okay?”
She laughs to herself, sticking out her tongue teasingly, “No promises!”
Wright shakes his head incredulously, joining her in cleaning up their mess from breakfast.
The fifteen minutes it takes for Miles Edgeworth to drive his car to the Wright home, is all it takes for him to solidify in his mind that this is a bad idea. The fact that he even agreed to it is a miracle, but one he had to accept for being a little predictable of him. He doesn’t even know what this is about, honestly, he just agreed to the vague implication of ‘there’s a serious personal issue that Wright needs your help with’.
He isn’t really mad about the situation, he could guarantee himself that. He’s done much more drastic things in his time dealing with Phoenix Wright, so clearing the day’s schedule felt like child’s play.
After all the two of them have been through, it was a wonder he didn’t reach out to the man on a more cordial basis. Maybe it was due to his infrequent visits to the country.
Nevertheless he arrives at the Wright home, getting out of the car to lean against the door, pulling out his phone to shoot the man a quick text to notify him of his presence. He had to read back through the previous messages and frown. Just what is bothering this man so much that even Trucy isn’t allowed to know?
Before long, the man emerges from the building in blue slacks and a white button up, Trucy stopping at the door behind him in her pajamas.
“Be sure to call Apollo if you need anything, alright?” he rushes, tying a pink tie as he speaks.
“Yes, Daddy, I’ll be alright!”
“Don’t answer the door for anyone that you don’t know and make sure you lock the doors and--”
“Yes, I know! Daddy, I’ll be fine, you don’t have to worry about me anymore,” she says reassuringly, putting her hands on her hips.
Wright pauses, letting out a huff and leaning over to kiss her on the cheek, “Alright then. I love you, Trucy. Don’t burn the house down!” he adds, making his way toward the car.
She giggles in response, shooting a bright smile and wave in Edgeworth’s direction that he returns with gentle ease. She watches Wright at least get to the car before heading back inside herself.
“Edgeworth!” the man finishes tying his tie, pulling it tighter around his neck, “You’re looking well, how was your last trip out of the country?” He makes his way to the passenger side of the car, smiling in that genuine, honest way he always did. It was a shame Edgeworth almost got used to not seeing it only a couple months prior.
“Thank you, Wright, it was well. Fitted with the usual odd case and the usual more… tame cases,” he lets himself smile as well, a much softer thing in comparison. It was something he found himself wanting to do more often, anyways. Edgeworth opens the car door, getting in to start up the engine. “I assume Trucy is doing well?”
“Oh yeah, of course! She’s doing great, and I could swear she’s attracting more attention with her magic shows! I really ought to take you to one some time.” Edgeworth starts to peel off onto the road. The amount of love and affection her father spoke of her whenever she was brought up wasn’t something that could easily be matched. She made the man’s smile widen and his eyes shine, even in those long and tiring seven years he endured. Edgeworth doesn’t let it go unnoticed, though he does admit that he shares the same affection for the young girl, though to a degree that doesn’t come close to outshining her father.
“Yes, you really ought to,” he says, his eyes on the road. Though after a moment, he begins to tap the steering wheel impatiently, feeling his smile grow into a frown, “... But we both know that’s not why you called me here. What is this issue all about?”
Wright lets out a sigh defeatedly, his smile already faltering, “Straight to business, huh? Well, you remember a couple years ago when I had you fill in defense for me and I gave you this?” he pulls out an oddly shaped green stone from his pocket, “My magatama?”
“I recall, yes.” A beat more and Edgeworth shoots a pointed glare in his direction, “I hope you aren’t actually about to ask me to do it again because I will pull over and kick you straight out of this car.”
“No, I swear it, I’m not!” at Edgeworth’s continued glaring he adds insistently, “That was one time and it won’t happen again, Edgeworth! I swear!” he was laughing, but in a way only a terrified man could.
Mostly satisfied, Edgeworth turns his eyes more attentively to the road with a grunt, “Alright, then what’s this about?”
“It’s the magatama I had you use. Last night, I… Well, long story short, I think I found out I have four black psyche locks,” pressing his lips into a frown, Wright stares at the magatama in his hands, unease and discomfort spreading across his face in a matter of moments.
“Ah, yes, ‘psyche-o locks’... Remind me again what they mean?”
“It’s ‘psyche locks’ and they mean I’m lying. And the black ones in particular mean that I’m keeping a secret I’m not even aware of, something kept deep in my soul.” His brow furrows, conflicted as his thumb passes over the smooth green stone.
“I see… If it’s a spiritual issue, wouldn’t it be better to go to Miss Fey about it?” Edgeworth questions.
“Well, technically yes, but Maya’s way up in the mountains. Besides, I’m pretty sure she’s busy,” he shrugs.
“And I’m not?” he raises an eyebrow.
“Well, you’re here now, aren’t you? Must not be too busy.” That gets him a glare out of Edgeworth, but he shakes his head and starts again, quieter, “I figured I could… I… I confided in you during those seven years so I figured you would know the most about whatever is going on. You’re one of my closest friends, Miles.” Wright looks up at him seriously with those dark blue eyes that always sought the truth, clearer now than they’ve been in a long time, though they were sad, and Edgeworth could see they were still clouded, somewhere deep within.
Edgeworth’s gaze is caught for a moment in them, lingering on the man’s words and every minute detail, “Ah. I… see.” He silently vows to make sure Wright never has to feel this sadness again, but then quickly puts his full attention on the road in an attempt to ignore the growing warmth in his chest and face.
Throughout the rest of the car ride, a heavy silence sits between them, one Edgeworth can’t exactly say is comfortable as it engulfs his senses like a suffocating gas. Whether Wright feels it too, he can’t say; the other man only stares out the car window, unable to rekindle some semblance of a conversation between them. Edgeworth never was good at small talk, and this side of Wright wasn’t either.
Their destination comes soon enough and they step out of the car, meeting the expanse of the house with quiet observance. Edgeworth rummages through his pockets for the key to the front door, deftly opening it before them. He frowns as the silence persists, but he pauses and turns to face the other man as him clearing his throat catches his attention, finally breaking off the suffocation.
“What we’re about to do… Black psyche locks… they’re supposedly unbreakable, but I feel like we’ll be able to handle it,” he says with a sheepish grin.
“And you failed to mention that until now? I’m sure I don’t have to tell you the meaning of the word ‘unbreakable’.”
“Well, yes, I know, but I’ve seen it done before. With the right key, any lock can be opened. We just have to go about this carefully and find the truth,” he says, looking up at the other. Wright’s usual demeanor had thankfully lost the physical and metaphorical slouch, but as he looks at him with those eyes with their usual determination, something else sneaks in there. If Edgeworth didn’t know any better, he might have said it was fear.
He takes a moment to consider it, uncertainty crawling its way up his spine. “... I understand,” he nods, turning to enter the house, finally releasing the tension from his lungs, “Please, make yourself comfortable.”
“Thanks, Edgeworth,” he says, smiling again as he enters, making his way to the couch to settle down.
Edgeworth pulls up a chair from the dining room, placing it in front of the man before him and sitting down. As he recalled, it was always better to face the person when questioning them in this way. Wright immediately pulls out the magatama, holding it out for him to take. There is a moment of hesitation, but Edgeworth takes it with care, feeling a sensation he could hardly describe wash over him.
He straightens, “Alright then, how should I start this?”
“With a question, I suppose, but…” he hesitates, quickly withdrawing to the defense, “You’re sure about this? You promise to take it seriously?”
“Yes, I’ve already committed to figuring out and helping you with your ‘psycho-lock’ situation, Wright. There’s no need to ask.”
“Promise me!” he blurts, leaning forward, placing his hands on his knees.
“Alright, I get it! I promise I’ll take this seriously!” he raises his hands defensively and leans back. It’s Miles Edgeworth they’re talking about! Why wouldn’t he take this seriously?
He lets out a huff, relaxing back into his chair, “What’s so pressing anyway? Why are you so concerned about this?”
“It’s just…” he pauses, apprehensive about his next statement, “You just have to be careful. If you break the locks with force, it could leave psychological damage that could never heal.
At that, Edgeworth’s usual stone demeanor cracks into surprise and concern, his eyes widening as he finally grasps the situation in its full berth. He looks at the magatama in his hands a moment before gently leaning forward to meet Wright’s gaze, “Are you still positive you want to do this, Wright?”
He sighs and then nods, “I’m positive.”
They look at each other a moment, a mutual understanding of trust passing between them. In a moment, he is back at the prosecutor’s bench, back in those early years, doing anything for a guilty verdict. In a moment, he is the one on the witness stand, testifying to a crime he didn’t commit. In a moment, he is saved. And in this moment, he must be the one doing the saving. “... Alright. What question do I need to ask?”
Wright rummages in his pocket a moment, pulling out a folded note and handing it to the man before him, looking sheepish as he does so, “It just feels awkward saying it out loud,” he admits.
Unfolding and reading the question, Edgeworth’s mind blanks for a moment, stopping in its tracks. Of all the possibilities that ran through his mind preparing him for the truth, this question was left out, “... Why are you so lonely?” Coming out of his mouth, the words feel weird and misplaced--a pool of brine amongst an ocean of distress.
Wright frowns and furrows his brow in response, caught in the midst, “… I’m not.”
Edgeworth flinches and lets slip a noise as the heavy chains streak into his field of view from multiple directions, clattering and barring him from the man before him. The intricate black locks slam down across them, four of them in total, locking away something foul.
Steeling himself with a breath, he allows the game to begin, chess pieces he so adored coming to mind. “There must be some semblance of truth to my question. You must be somewhat lonely.”
He shakes his head, “No, that doesn’t make any sense. I have Trucy and Apollo and Maya. They’re always here to keep me company.”
“And no one else? I’m sure that can’t be true.”
Wright gives him a look, “Of course I have other friends, Edgeworth. They’ve needed me at times and I’ve come through, so it would make sense that they would do the same.”
“A-ah. Of course.” Something in the back of his mind tells him he hit a wrong nerve and would be punished for it, but he silently disregards it. That, and the shiver up his spine.
“But what if they couldn’t be there for you? Like… Some outside force is keeping them from you?” Or even an inside force for that matter. “Has something like that been happening to make you feel lonely?”
He checks the locks as he presses on. No budging, unfortunately.
“Well… No, not really. Ever since the Jurist System was implemented, I’ve been doing much better.” Wright shrugs, a smile and a silent thank you to the one across from him.
Edgeworth nods slowly in acknowledgement and then starts again, “Well, what about before then? In the last seven years you were disbarred? As I recall, you neglected to contact Miss Fey and you didn’t even know of Mr. Justice. Trucy may have been there, but she provided a different kind of company,” he sits a moment, contemplating those years and all the hardship they provided.
“Well that-- I didn’t tell Maya because I didn’t want to make her worried!” he refutes, “She would have been in the middle of her training and, knowing her, she would have dropped everything to come see me.”
“To be completely frank, Wright, I would have prefered her to do that than just having you waste away in your apartment.” Honestly, if it hadn’t been for Trucy, Edgeworth doubts that Wright would have even gotten up out of bed during those seven years.
“I didn’t want her to see me like that. Not then,” he pouts.
For a moment, Edgeworth is reminded of himself behind the glass of the detention center, so set on taking the fall. He admits, it is frustrating seeing it happen in real time. “Wright, you of all people should know that just because those seven years were difficult, that doesn’t give you an excuse for keeping everyone away.”
At that, Edgeworth hears one of the locks’ mechanisms click and shift, the barrels of the lock slowly ticking into place.
“I know it was wrong, Edgeworth. I see that now. I just… felt that I had to,” he admits.
Just one more push and he had it. Why did he have to push everyone away during the seven years he spent disbarred? Wright might’ve felt ashamed and discouraged during that time, but there were plenty of moments where he would work day and night on reforming the legal system, all in order to catch those that might slip away.
“... Yes, you did have to, didn’t you?”
“... What do you mean?” he replies.
“For you… you had to occupy your time trailing Mr. Gavin as much as you could, almost like an obsession…”
Wright tenses, his voice low, “It wasn’t just an obsession , Edgeworth. It--”
“And it was a task you took on alone.” he finishes pointedly. A moment passes and he softens, “Kristoph twisted his way into your life and suffocated almost every other aspect of it. You were so sure that he had something to do with what happened that in order to keep him from slipping away without a trace, you had to keep him close. Very close.”
At that, one of the locks whirs and clicks violently until it shatters, no trace of it left behind.
Wright seems to flinch, “Kristoph…” he moved to hold himself, the sleeves of his shirt distressing as his grip tightened.
“One of them broke…” he trails, catching on to the more immediate issue, “But more importantly, are you okay, Wright?”
“I just… He…” he couldn’t seem to formulate whatever thought found itself inside his head, but eventually he disregards it, opting for an easier question to answer, “Yes I’m… I’m fine. Let’s keep going.”
“… If you’re sure.” Looking at the man, Edgeworth could almost forget what he was capable of. He caves in on himself, reminding the prosecutor of the scared little kid he once defended almost a lifetime ago.
“You kept him so close, forcing everything else so far away, didn’t that make you feel lonely?”
“… Yes,” he admits, letting out a shaky breath. Wright closes further in on himself, taking a small golden locket from his pants to look at the picture inside. Trucy’s picture. “I was so… scared… For Trucy, for myself, and for… anyone else that might’ve gotten in the way of what he wanted.” He runs his thumb gently over her portrait before closing the locket and holding it in his fist.
That’s it! “‘Anyone else’? There was someone else you were concerned about, wasn’t there?” Wright looks up at the inquiry, caught off guard.
He thinks it over. Wright was alone in his struggle, not even Trucy knew of what her father was doing, though Edgeworth always felt that she knew something from her own observations. But other than that, the only person who knew of the situation was…
“Were you perhaps… concerned about me?”
Once again a lock trembles violently until it shatters from Edgeworth’s field of view. Two to go.
“I… I was.” Wright murmurs, sounding somewhat ashamed.
“But I would have been perfectly fine!” he says incredulously, “I was an ocean away and nothing would have been able to get to me, especially not Kristoph Gavin.”
The look of guilt intensifies, “I know, Edgeworth.” It maintains for a couple more seconds, Edgeworth briefly regretting his statements. He didn’t mean to make him feel bad about it. He should have been more careful.
“I… I’m sorry,” he softens, “That tone of voice was unbecoming of me; It was not what I intended.” Wright only nods in response, the locks holding steady.
But maybe…
Wright had been scared about the ones close to him as they might’ve gotten in the way of one Kristoph Gavin. He would have gone to almost any measure to protect those he loved, even if it meant streaking his name with mud. As the man once said, his name certainly couldn’t get any worse. And Edgeworth had been...
“... It is because of me, isn’t it? Because I was unreachable and far away? I was an ocean away from Mr. Gavin and… an ocean away from you.” He could almost feel his face heating up, but there was no time for that now. Another lock trembles and breaks, leaving just one left.
And Wright… oh god. Wright cracks and weltering tears find their way to his cheeks, pent up fear and exhaustion pouring out after so long of being kept in. Immediately, Edgeworth is at his side, tentatively putting his hand on the other’s back.
“Wright…! Are you…?” Edgeworth says, unsure of where to begin. Wright ignores him, burying his face in his hands.
Quiet sobs fill the room, Edgeworth focusing on nothing more than the man under his arm. “I just… Miles, you were… I-- I couldn’t…” Wright whimpers, the words coming out as fragments.
A pang of guilt shoots through him. Is he the cause of all this? He could hardly stand the thought.
“Despite... everything you were doing for me...” he feels small and frail under Edgeworth’s touch, the sobs wracking through his body, “I… I almost r-resented you for always being too far away. You were where I couldn’t protect you, where I…”
He takes a moment, shaky breaths finding their way in and out through his nerves. He wipes his eyes, attempting to regain some semblance of his former composure.
“But where you were… It-- It was the only place where I could protect you. I was so scared for you, Miles. Scared that he might’ve…” he trails off, completely taken over as he buries his head in his hands again, the sobs coming back in full force.
“Sshh… Just breathe.” Edgeworth makes smooth circles on his back in a comforting manner. He admits to himself that he’s not very good at this whole ‘comfort’ thing, but at least now, in this moment, he is able to try. His voice is soft and small, almost a whisper, “It’s okay now, I promise. He’s not something you have to worry about anymore.” The beast was gone, rightfully in a place where he couldn’t harm anyone else for a long time.
For long drawn out minutes, it is still, the sobs and hiccups the only sounds echoing through the empty halls. Edgeworth watches Wright as he slowly calms, silently wondering to himself about the lock that remains, but he pushes it to the back of his mind after some consideration.
“We don’t… have to keep going, Wright. It might be better to stop while we’re ahead,” he says gently. It’s unthinkable for Edgeworth to even consider what he would do if he ended up hurting him in some way.
There is a long moment before Wright utters a response, his eyes red and puffy from the tears. “.... No.” He wipes the wet from his eyes with his palm, “No, I want to keep going.”
“Are you sure?” he starts before he is met with a hardened look. Edgeworth nods tentatively in reply before regaining his spot in the chair across from him. One lock left.
“... You were unhappy that I was so far away,” he begins hesitantly, “but you had to keep me away in order to keep me safe. You were scared for me…. Is that correct?” The statements feel weird in his throat, but them and the warmth in his chest were plenty to sacrifice for the truth.
“Yes… I… I care about you, Edgeworth. I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.” Wright looks away while saying this, though he isn’t being dishonest as far as Edgeworth could tell.
The lock cracks in response. At this point, Edgeworth was used to it.
“Yes… I erm… Thank you.” His ears burned, betraying the thoughts he held in his head. He lets out a breath, pursing his lips. This isn’t the time for childish confessions of… well… that . He could do that another time. Maybe.
He looks almost forlornly at that last lock, cracked, but steady. He’s so close, yet he lacks the final and crucial piece to the puzzle. That last statement…
He closes his eyes and steels himself once more, opening them and hesitantly reaching his hand out for the last psyche lock, passing through like it wasn’t even there, landing right over Wright’s heart.
“Wright… I’ll always be here, alright?” his hand is trembling. Why? “N-nothing could change that. Even if I’m an ocean away. I promise you.”
After a moment the lock trembles and breaks, the final piece of the puzzle set in place. The chains dash away once their prison has been destroyed, the world fading back to its rightful colors.
Wright’s eyes widen in surprise, now looking at the other earnestly, “…… I know, Edgeworth. I…” he swallows before grabbing Edgeworth’s trembling hand in his own, “I just… want to… I want to be with you always. Please. If you’ll have me.”
Now it was Edgeworth’s turn to be surprised. He could feel his face getting hot, those deep blue eyes pouring into him. “…. I… It… it broke,” he manages.
Wright laughs, an exhausted, genuine thing, “Yes I suppose it did…” he relaxes into a more gentle smile, beginning again, “I just… I was afraid, Edgeworth. Of what you might say, of what you might think. And I didn’t want you to get hurt either. So I… I locked it away.” His face was red and his hand was warm, and Edgeworth could feel the man’s heart pounding against his chest.
Wright is...
“... You don’t have to say anything, Edgeworth,” he falters, “I-in fact, it’s alright if you don’t feel the same I just… thought I should tell you.”
Phoenix…
“...Edgeworth? … D-don’t look at me like that.”
How long is he going to just stare at him? Move! Do something!
Edgeworth feels himself moving forward, hands shifting to face and lips moving to lips. For a moment, time stands still for them, allowing Wright to catch up and press into the embrace.
But the moment ends, all too quick and all too slow all at once, Wright dazed and soft in his hands.
“...I guess that’s a yes.” Wright breathes elated.
Edgeworth cracks a smile, “Yes. Yes it is. I’ll always be here. I promise.”
Wright leans in to kiss him again, gentle, loving, and elated all at once, only pausing when he realizes with a grin:
“I should probably tell Trucy, huh?”