Even when his primary residence was Germany, he followed the American papers. Only the national news, for the most part - he'd cut ties with those he'd known in Los Angeles over the course of the last several years, and had little interest in the local stories. Even those relating to his old line of work. After all, he didn't know anyone who was still a practicing attorney there.

He did decide to pick up a few more specific journals when they began working on implementing the jurist system; it was partly his work overseas that had resulted in this shift, and he was curious to see how it went. Imagine his surprise when he opened one of the journals and found a picture of someone he hadn't seen in nearly seven years, and was fairly sure he would never see again.

...He didn't look as though he'd been very successful since the last time they'd spoken, which was hardly a surprise. Miles hardly recognized the man unshaven, with that hair of his hidden under a shabby hat. But one thing remained the same - the steadfast, determined look in his eyes as he (according to the caption) spoke to a few dozen prospective jurors about how serious their duty was. He always had that look about him, when matters of justice were involved.

But... what was he doing anywhere near a court of law?

Miles had never believed he'd forged evidence, but his belief had had no effect on the decision handed down by the bar association. Nor had it had any effect on Phoenix's determination to make himself even more miserable by driving him away with criticism Miles knew he couldn't care less about, and insults that Miles knew he didn't mean, and bitterness that... Well, perhaps that was authentic, but Miles was sure he would get over it someday. Somehow, he never got a phone call or a letter or so much as a text message saying so, and at some point he'd stopped expecting that he would.

Perhaps his name had been cleared after all, Miles thought. He did have other contacts within the judicial system, certainly. That other defense attorney that he'd bonded with so oddly after his disbarrment - Gavin, wasn't it? - might have put forth a case for his involvement. Yes, perhaps that was it.

Years of work in the system made it simple to search for further information online, and Miles was shocked to find out that Gavin had clearly had nothing to do with Phoenix's involvement with the jurist system - considering he had been imprisoned for murder several months ago - after trying to frame Phoenix, no less.

Irritated as Miles was that the mere sight of the man in black and white on the page of a magazine caused his heart to skip a beat after all these years, he was further annoyed by the sudden overpowering desire to fly back to Los Angeles at once and find out what had happened.

He resisted, but the whole story came out regardless, unfolding on the pages of the newspapers he bought. The first jury trial in the United States for decades was broadcast live, and Miles stayed up late watching the conclusion. He was horrified. But now... it all made sense.

He tried to ignore it. He tried to build a case against it. But in the end, he knew he couldn't deny it, and so he booked his itinerary for the weekend.

The last flight touched down in early evening, and he hailed a cab at the airport. He'd contacted Gumshoe (and how guilty could he possibly be made to feel when the man greeted him with such glee? How much worse would it feel when it was Phoenix?), who said that as far as he knew, the old office was still there, just was a talent agency or something now instead of a law office. Half an hour after landing, Miles was knocking on the door of the "Wright and Co. Anything Agency".

There was no answer. Neither was there an answer when he dialed the old office phone number, and the answering machine message briefly gave him a nasty shock, until he remembered where he'd heard the name Trucy before. Phoenix hadn't married - that was the little girl he'd adopted, apparently not now so little. No wonder, after seven years.

The Gatewater was still right where it always had been, just across from the office building, and Miles decided that it was as good a place as any to spend the night. After checking in, and briefly unpacking a few things, he tried back at the office again. Still no one home.

He'd just turned away and opened the door to the stairwell when he heard voices rising up through the lower levels, warm and filled with laughter. He knew both of the voices - one because he'd just heard it on the answering machine message, the other because seven years wasn't enough time to forget the best (and worst, but always the most vivid) moments of his life.

Frozen halfway through the door, he listened as they came closer, until he saw from above the hat he'd seen in that black and white photograph, making its way up the stairs beside a blue top hat - and then they rounded the corner and Phoenix glanced up.

His eyes widened, his jaw dropped just slightly, as Miles stared down at him. Finally the dropped jaw relaxed into an open-mouthed smile of wonder. "...Edgeworth...?"

Miles didn't know what to say, though he found himself smiling as well, and that turned Phoenix's smile into a silly, boyish grin as he bounded up the last flight of stairs. "Oh, who else could it be, wearing that kind of suit?" he teased as he reached the landing. "I... wow, Edgeworth..."

Already his smile had dimmed somewhat, grown wary, and he suddenly shoved his hands in his pockets. Possibly Miles should say something to make this a little less awkward, and so he did. "It's been a long time, hasn't it, Wright?"

Phoenix nodded. "It sure has. Remember how little Trucy was the last time you were here?" He looked over his shoulder. "Trucy, do you remember Mr. Edgeworth?"

"Uh..." The girl - a teenager now, though clearly an unconventional one, given the way she was dressed - frowned thoughtfully. "Actually, no... but any friend of my Daddy's is a friend of mine," she declared with a smile, bounding up the stairs after Phoenix to shake Miles's hand. "Nice to meet you!"

"...Likewise." It was only fair - they'd met very briefly, during a time that had been difficult for all of them, and she'd been very young.

"Sweetie?" Phoenix addressed her. "How about you go on home ahead of us? I have a feeling Edgeworth and I have some catching up to do."

"Sure thing, Daddy," Trucy replied. "I'll see you when you get there." Already focused on Phoenix's face again, Miles was startled when the man winced suddenly jolted by Trucy's elbow to his ribs as she passed. "If you want to hug him, just do it," she whispered in Phoenix's ear, not terribly quiet.

The sheepish look on Phoenix's face was entirely endearing, and he scratched his head idly through the hat as Miles stepped aside, letting the stairwell door close behind her. "...Sorry about that. She doesn't know you're kind of weird about physical displays of affection. Or at least you were... it sure has been awhile."

"...I don't mind," Miles admitted. "Honestly, I..." ...couldn't admit openly that he'd wanted to throw his own arms around Phoenix ever since he looked up from the bottom of the stairs. He cursed himself for a coward.

Phoenix seemed to know what he meant anyway, and one awkward, crooked smile later, Phoenix was stepping closer, enclosing Miles in a solid, unguarded embrace made all the warmer by the soft fabric of the jacket he was wearing. He seemed a little thinner, but otherwise it was the embrace Miles had been trying hard to pretend he'd never felt, and Miles gave in to it, sliding his own arms around Phoenix's back and resting his head against that silly hat.

It didn't last long, though; Phoenix pulled away with a little sigh, and his smile was just fond. "It's really good to see you... So don't get me wrong, but - why are you here?"

"I was watching the Misham murder trial from Germany."

"Ahhh." Phoenix crossed his arms, nodding thoughtfully. "That is relevant to your work, isn't it? I kind of liked that," he admitted. "It was kind of like I was working with you again, helping to implement the jurist system."

Curiosity beat out sentimentality. "How did you get that position?"

"Persistence, hard work... people who believed I'd learned my lesson a long time ago," Phoenix said with a shrug. "Or who maybe believed me when I said I was set up."

And that was really why Miles was here. "I'm sorry," he stated, meeting Phoenix's eyes honestly and openly. "I never believed you forged that evidence."

Phoenix just nodded. "I know."

"I would have tried to help..."

"I didn't want to put you in danger. Kristoph Gavin was crazy..."

"So I noticed. And as I watched that trial's end, I realized why you pushed me away..."

Phoenix's tongue darted out to lick his lips, his eyes suddenly averted. "...I think that was the hardest thing I've ever had to do in my life."

"Good, then we're in agreement - because walking away from you, believing all the time that you didn't really want me to, was probably the hardest thing I've ever had to do." If he'd ever been anywhere near as comfortable as Phoenix was with touching people, he'd have reached out and taken Phoenix by the shoulders, made him look at him again. Instead, he just stood there, awkward, not knowing what to do. "And when I saw your picture in a law journal, I realized-"

"Miles," Phoenix muttered, shaking his head slightly. "It's okay."

"It's not," Miles insisted. "I never stopped... caring about you."

This was the part where Miles supposed that Phoenix would, no doubt, say he never stopped caring about him either (except that he would use the word that Miles had such difficulties with), and probably throw his arms around him, and wind up kissing him up against the door until neither of them could breathe.

Instead, Phoenix just gazed off at nothing, not even smiling. "Why don't we go for a walk," he suggested finally. "It's not a bad night... we're both dressed for being out, there's a nice little park a couple of blocks from here."

Miles wasn't sure why what he'd been imagining hadn't happened, but he nodded. "That would be acceptable."

"...Heh." The slightly sarcastic chuckle sounded strange to Miles. But what could he do?

They walked in silence for a little while, Phoenix's hands shoved deep in his pockets, Miles doing likewise after realizing that no, Phoenix was not going to take the bait to hold his hand.

"You're probably the single most influential person in my life," Phoenix said finally, when they could make out the place where streetlights gave way to trees at the end of the street. "Did you know that? I have no idea where I'd be now if it wasn't for you standing up for me in class that day... and everything else that came after it."

Miles could have guessed, perhaps. "I suppose I can't say honestly that you're the most influential figure in my life," he muttered. "If you had been, I'm sure I'd be a much happier, more well-adjusted person than I am."

That won a sidelong glance and a smile. "Thanks... but I don't know about that. I can't say I was too well-adjusted for most of my life, either. I mean, it's not exactly normal to pick a career based on some guy you knew for six months in grade school, is it? It wasn't a bad move, in the end, but it was still rather impetuous of me. I was... a lot more reckless when I was younger, you know."

"Never in a destructive way, though," Miles pointed out. "If anything, your 'recklessness' saved my life, and countless others."

"As far as my career goes, yes," Phoenix agreed. "But that wasn't the only reckless decision I made. And every time I made a reckless decision, I was so determined to follow through on the decision I'd made... and I did some stupid things in trying."

"...What do you mean?"

Phoenix was silent a little longer, as they passed through the park gates, following the path through the trees, guided by the lanterns along the way. "I was really miserable when I finally drove you away, you know."

Miles snorted faintly. "As miserable as I was?"

"Probably." The smile he turned to Miles this time was a little sad. "Without you, without my job, I don't know how I would have gone on, if not for Trucy. Someone had to take care of her, you know? That was the only reason I got out of bed anymore. And when I was in bed, I just lay there and thought of you and hated myself."

Miles closed his eyes for a moment. "I understand all too well."

"But I kept thinking of you anyway," Phoenix continued. "It was eating me up. So I tried to make myself believe it was okay, that I was better off without you. And that sort of worked - I thought about all your issues with control, perfection, trust, touch. I thought about how you did pretty much the same thing I was doing, faking your own death and running off to Europe, and how furious I was with you for that. I remembered how much it hurt, and how much it hurt to have you walk out on me now, even though I made you. And I did know you didn't want to go - I had the magatama, remember? But you still went. And for a little while, I didn't hate myself so much. I could hate you instead."

The casual way he said it was heartbreaking. "Phoenix-"

"Heh, don't apologize again." Phoenix was just as casual in this. "Honestly, it's okay. You apologized enough for the 'choosing death' thing ages ago. And I never really blamed you for doing exactly what I was trying to get you to do. You have nothing to apologize for. After letting myself be mad for awhile, I got over it."

Miles wasn't sure why Phoenix was telling him all this. Just getting it out, perhaps, the things he'd wanted to say during the seven years they'd been apart. "I'm glad you did. I admit, I had my own period of anger, and it too passed."

Phoenix didn't reply, and they walked in silence a little further, until Miles couldn't take it anymore. "Phoenix, I tried not to miss you, and it didn't work. Just seeing your picture again brought everything back in a rush - I never got over you," he admitted, bracing himself to say it outright. "Seven years, and I still love you."

This time there was no smile, not even a sad one as Phoenix turned his head to look up at Miles. Nothing but regret. "I love you too," he said simply. "As I said, you're probably the biggest influence in my life, you turned me into what I am, you're one of the most special people in the world to me. But Miles... I'm not in love with you, and I'm not sure now that I ever was."

The look on his face must have said it all, because Phoenix bit his lip, looking all the more anxious as Miles stopped short. "I believed I was," he added, turning to face Miles fully in the middle of the path, beneath one of the lanterns. "I never tried to deceive you. I think I was deceiving myself, if anything. ...I've had a lot of time to think over these last seven years," he explained. "About myself, and about you and I... I wanted to save you. And once I did that, I didn't really know what else I was supposed to do. In a way, I think I'd fooled myself into thinking of you in much the same way I thought of Dahlia - and once I saved you, like I couldn't save her, we were supposed to live happily ever after. But... to be honest, Miles," Phoenix pointed out, "we weren't very good for each other. We drove each other crazy a lot of the time, disappointed each other a lot... different interests, different tastes..."

"I stopped caring about that," Miles said, his voice tight. "How can you say you weren't good for me?"

Phoenix sighed. "I don't know, you're the only one who can judge that. But I don't think you were very good for me - and I hate to say it, because I know it's not your fault, and you never did any of it on purpose. You were messed up, and I was messed up, and even when you did things that scared me to death or made me mad, I was still trying to make it work - because it was just supposed to work. That's what I thought. Then circumstances got in the way, there was that forged evidence..." He reached a hand up, pausing when the hat prevented him from running it through his hair, then dropped it to his side again. "But I'm almost grateful for it now, because it forced me to learn a lot about myself, and a lot about reality. I've been much more stable these last few years than I've ever been."

"Stable?" Miles exclaimed. "From what I read in the court records, you've been playing poker in someone's filthy basement, while your teenage daughter performs at a bar, Phoenix. I don't even know how you can afford the rent." Phoenix's eyes fixed on him and narrowed suddenly, and Miles realized just how unnecessary that was. "...I'm sorry. That wasn't your fault."

Phoenix's eyes stayed warily on him a moment longer before his gaze dropped. "...That's what I mean, Miles. Men like you and men like me have different ideas about what 'stability' means. You went straight to financial stability, and I couldn't care less about that. Because you know, you're right - there was a time we couldn't pay the rent, and we were just a couple of days away from getting evicted. And there I was, trying not to freak out in front of Trucy while I explained we might not have anyplace to live for awhile... and you know what she did? She told me that she and her old daddy and her Uncle Valant didn't have any particular place to live either, it was all trains and planes and hotel rooms, but it was okay - as long as they were together. She hugged me, and told me it didn't matter where we were. We would still have each other, and that would be our home."

Miles tried, but he just couldn't relate to it at all. "...So you're trying to say that being homeless with a child would have been 'stable' circumstances to you?"

"That's exactly what I mean," Phoenix said honestly. "You don't understand that kind of stability, because you've never had it."

"This is... true," Miles admitted reluctantly. "I don't understand.

"And back then, that was what helped me realize that I could go on without you," Phoenix told him. "I had to. I had Trucy to think about, I had to focus on taking care of her. And after awhile... I realized I was happier than I'd ever been in my entire life."

"The times I had with you were the happiest times of my life." Miles was horrified to find that his voice was shaking.

That hadn't escaped Phoenix's notice either, judging from the way his face fell. "Honestly, Miles. You were miserable."

"But you made my life tolerable."

"...I don't know what to say, except that I'm sorry. I hate this," Phoenix admitted. "I hate doing this to you, I can see it hurts. But I have to be honest."

It wasn't just Miles's voice that was shaking - it was his hands, too, when he lifted one to pinch at the bridge of his nose. His head was suddenly pounding. "Can't we just... try? One more time?"

"Miles..." He heard Phoenix pause. "C'mon, Miles. Don't do this to me... or to yourself. You'll be fine, okay?"

Seeing as Miles was too busy stopping himself from being completely overwhelmed by these unfamiliar, unwelcome emotions, he couldn't respond but to lift his other shaking hand to cover his face. And then he felt Phoenix's arms close around him, holding him close. It was nearly enough to make him break down, but he refused.

"Miles, I'm sorry. I really am," Phoenix was murmuring in his ear. "It's not that I don't love you - I do love you. I always will, you're a really important person to me. It's just... I'm content now, I'm stable, I don't feel like I'm lacking anything. I've only got one commitment right now, and that's to my daughter. There's a lot of strange revelations she's going to be dealing with - right now and in the near future - and I need to be there for her. I don't need or want my attention to be divided. Do you understand?"

Miles nodded against his shoulder, and then the world seemed like a colder place as Phoenix stepped back, though still resting his hands on Miles's shoulders. "I am glad to see you, though," Phoenix added seriously. "But it's been a long time. Seven years - I know I've changed, at least. We don't even really know each other anymore... but I'd like it if we could get to know each other again. I want to get to be friends again, and stay that way."

"...I'm not sure how easy that would be," Miles muttered, "when we're living on different continents." And when he couldn't imagine looking at Phoenix and knowing that there was nothing behind his eyes but lingering affection that had yet to die.

Phoenix sighed softly. "See? We couldn't just pick right up where we left off, even if we hadn't changed at all. I mean, I couldn't ask you to move back here, and there's no way I'm picking Trucy up and moving her off to Germany. ...Or wherever you live these days - I don't even know."

Miles just nodded. He was tired of arguing.

"You'll be fine," Phoenix assured him, that familiar, warm smile returning to his face. "I promise. I thought I was going to die without you, you know, but I didn't - I'm doing great these days, in fact. You'll do great too, once you're past all of this. I just know it."

Miles didn't, but he simply nodded again. And then he turned away and started walking back towards the park entrance, back towards the Gatewater. Back towards the bar that should be open, just off the lobby.

Phoenix walked with him, of course. Not arm in arm, not hand in hand, not chatting in any sort of friendly manner - just next to each other in silence. When they got back to the front of Phoenix's building, Phoenix shrugged, giving him a halfhearted smile. "...Call me sometime, when you're up to it, okay? I'll fill you in on everything, and you can fill me in on everything too. All right?"

Miles appreciated Phoenix's honesty - it was better than being told an attractive lie. But honesty was for people who you could trust with the truth, and Miles wasn't sure there was anyone like that left in his life.

"I will," he lied, and Phoenix smiled wider as he waved and headed up the stairs.