Written for the following request on the Phoenix Wright Kink Meme: I would like to see someone comfort Edgeworth during an earthquake and helping him endure the aftershocks please. ^^

For many years, Franziska made certain to never let slip the opportunity of humiliating her little brother. Be it when his curious enthusiasm for a children's show seeped through the cracks of his professional facade, or when he verbally constructed a grammatically incorrect sentence, or when his posture looked even the slightest bit off to her, she ensured to make a show of his errors and embarrassments. It helped to further solidify who was clearly the superior one in the family and who would forever be a flawed work in process, but it also genuinely amused her.

She'd never admit it, lest her perfection come into questioning, but between all the hard work and concentration in making sure she performed even the most mundane of tasks flawlessly, humiliating her little brother served a nice distraction—even a hobby, from it all. She was fascinated by the different reactions she could wring out of him, a fascination distinct from the reactions she'd get out of witnesses or opposing attorneys. Those fools weren't part of her family, after all. A family that strived for perfection and stoicism, at that. And this one was trying to become the man her father was—what a laugh! He didn't even share his blood; he was little more than a boy playing pretend. He was a toy for her to tear apart and exploit to her liking, and make certain that he remembered his place in the family. She never let the opportunity of humiliating Miles Edgeworth slip past her.

Until that one day.

She and her brother had been reclining in their respective armchairs, pouring over law books Papa had given them to study. The atmosphere was dull and quiet, and before she knew it, she was through with her second read-through of the book in her hands. She hated to admit it, given her dedication and love of the subject, but she was terribly bored. She glanced over at her little brother, still in the middle of reading his book. His posture looked stuff, no doubt on guard from his sister's wrath, which gave Franziska some smug sense of satisfaction. It wasn't going to relieve her of her boredom, however, and she studied him with the intensity she had given her law book—longing for an involuntary twitch of an expression or a nervous tremble of a finger to allow her the chance to shatter the silence and humiliate her brother once more.

The answer to her desire came in the form of a tremor, lightly shaking the house. It took Franziska off-guard, earthquakes being a rarity in their country, but she was quick to be at ease with it. She even felt grateful for it, shaking the dullness out of this room and her boredom along with it. The tremor stopped as quickly as it began, and Franziska, her senses now fully awake, was ready to give her book a third read-through. She was about to crack it open again, when she heard the sound of someone whimpering.

Miles Edgeworth?

She looked over to where her brother was sitting, and her eyes widened. There was her little brother, his face buried in his knees drawn to his chest, arms embracing his legs tightly, quivering all over. It couldn't have been—no, was it really from that little earthquake earlier? Franziska cocked an eyebrow, unsure of what to make of this strange display her brother was putting on—and her own lack thereof. Shouldn't she be taking this as the perfect opportunity to laugh at her little brother, gloat at his cowardice, make sure he burns this moment into his mind as a reminder of why he'll never surpass her? What exactly was it that was holding her back?

Irked at her own passivity, Franziska stood up and walked over to her brother's chair. She sighed impatiently, at a loss of what to do. She'd seen flashes of fear in Miles Edgeworth's eyes before—at her arm raised in preparation of slicing the air with her riding crop, at her suggestions that they take the elevator instead of the stairs, at Papa's booming voice when he performed a task insufficiently—but never had she seen him completely shut down like this, taken over by his fear. A von Karma mustn't hesitate to crush her opponent while he's down, but Miles Edgeworth wasn't her opponent, currently. There was no competition being held at this time, and whatever competition there had been was halted by the earthquake. It was just she and her terrified brother now. The obvious thing to do at this point would be to bring him back to his senses.

Franziska gripped his shoulder and shook him, but the only good it did was cause him to let out a gasp and tense his shivering body up further. She nearly stomped her foot in irritation, only to catch the mistake she just made. The earthquake…of course, how foolish of me. More vibrations would be as helpful as applying salt to a wound. She loosed her grip on his shoulder, and trailed her hands down to his biceps as she turned to crouch at his level and face him.

"Miles Edgeworth. Look at me."

No response.

"It's over. Come back to your senses."

Still shaking. Still refusing to lift his head and look at her. It only just occurred to her that, on top of all the fear overwhelming him, her brother was likely feeling a great sense of humiliation—one that far surpassed any of the teasing and torment she inflicted upon him. At the end of the day, he could still shake the embarrassment off, give a witty retort, or at least be able to look her in the eye; here, he was completely, utterly defeated, and likely too ashamed and afraid to face the sister who reveled in his moments of imperfection. Franziska was not going to regret what she'd done in the past—a von Karma never regrets—but she wasn't going to allow her brother to remain in this defeated, fearful state, either.

She did something she rarely, rarely ever did—she wrapped her arms around her brother's curled up body…and hugged him. She felt his body jolt in surprise, then settle down back into its shivering state.

"Miles Edgeworth. Little brother," Franziska said softly, yet firmly, "I will stay with you as long as I must. I won't say a word of this incident." She ran her fingers through his hair. "I want to see you well again. I want to see my foolish little brother's face again."

She felt his body begin to relax in hers and two, shivering arms wrapped themselves around her, squeezing her tightly. His breathing was still rattled, and his body still trembled, but he at least responded to her words. He at least movedfrom his paralyzed state, by her words or not. "Good," she said, feeling the praise would help him further, "You're doing well. Remarkably well, given your state. Relax and steady your breathing."

She heard a quiet "Yes" and his embrace around her relaxed a little. He took slow, deep inhales and exhales. "Good," she'd repeat, as she rubbed his back, massaging at his tense muscles. His breathing began slowing to a normal pace, and his body appeared to no longer be shaking. The silence that hung over them before the earthquake had now returned, with a decidedly less dull atmosphere. She looked down at her brother, eyes now closed peacefully, and wondered if he fell asleep. As though reading her mind, her brother gave a small cough and lifted his head from her shoulder. He still looked pale with fright, but there were some traces of his old self re-emerging.

"Th…thank you, Franziska," he mumbled.

"Hmph. The least I can do for my little brother," she said with a smirk, "Now, I made my promise not to speak word of this incident, so you better do the same."

Her brother chuckled nervously, still recovering, and smirked back at her. "Don't worry. I promise never to speak of my sister's…intimate techniques."

"If I could whip you now I would," she growled. "…It's good to have you back, little brother."