Broken Lullaby

It was dark and quiet in the Hydeout. It was late, perhaps around two in the morning, and the only thing he could hear was the faint shuffling of his daughter across the room. Drinking quietly from his bottle, he stared at the keys of the piano he sat at. Gingerly tracing his free fingers across the keys, he tapped a small tune. It required the use of three fingers, and that was about as far as he could learn the language of the piano. It was a familiar melody, one he knew from long ago and from older times.

A soft hand moved up and pulled his hat off of his head, and an arm moved around his shoulders from behind. Placing the bottle beside his stand, he patted beside himself. The slim figure of his daughter slipped next to him, and she rested her head against his shoulder. Her own fingers moved up to play the same thing on a higher octave. Phoenix played with her, a ghost of a smile on his unshaven face. It was a lullaby she'd known since she had come into his family. Running a hand up and around his daughter's shoulder, her turned and pressed a caring kiss to her temple.

"You think of him a lot, don't you, daddy?" she asked in a quiet voice, and Phoenix smiled in a crooked kind of sense, moving the hand from her shoulder and up through his own hair. Trucy brought her fingers back from the keys and stood up, smiling at him. "I'll leave you be for now, okay? I'll be in the stairwell--practicing with Mr. Hat!" She gave him a happy beam, playfully holding up two fingers and trying to look as cute as possible. Phoenix chuckled softly and watched her skip merrily out of the room. Turning back to the piano, he played out the tune again, shutting his eyes as he remembered…

"Wright, when are you going to learn?" Edgeworth chuckled, shaking his head, looking bemused with that casual smirk of his. Phoenix stared at him from across the room, lost. The prosecutor brought out a piece of the evidence; a photo of tire imprints. Phoenix caught on too late and gasped, wheeling back a bit in shock. "You need to keep track of the court record better. How could she have possibly been at the diner when her car's tires left imprints at the park?" Phoenix stared, his side of the argument shattered, then he looked weakly to Maya beside him. Except she wasn't beside him.

He recalled, hollowly, she was away to work on training. He was alone. Turning his eyes woefully, he expected to see the usual glare of pompous self-satisfaction, but instead Edgeworth was carefully fiddling with another piece of evidence. The blonde hairs found in the seat of the car…? Phoenix's eyes lit up. "Objection!" he cried out, throwing his finger out, his body pulsing with sudden joy. A rush of hot blood shot through him like adrenaline, and he could barely contain the giddy sort of grin he got from crying out 'Objection'.

"The hairs in the car have been identified as Mr. Dactyl's! He was the one who drove the car to the park and left the body of Mrs. Kane! The footage from the college kid's camera detailing the presence of Ms. Myne was, in fact, unaltered and is solid proof of an alibi--Mr. Terry Dactyl is the real killer, not Ms. Bee Myne!"

The rush lasted long after the pilot was dragged out of the courtroom, and lasted long after little Bee Myne came up and gave him a hug. It faded, however, when Phoenix was gathering up his briefcase and he saw Edgeworth watching him slyly from the entrance. In fact, it made him feel an unpleasant twist in his stomach. The way Edgeworth was smirking at him, it made him very uncomfortable…Somehow, it wasn't surprising that as he slid into Edgeworth's car, the man turned on him and pressed him against the door.

"You owe me," Miles hissed into his ear, applying perfect pressure to Phoenix's groin. The defense attorney let out a heated gasp of surprise from the intimate touch (one he could very well recall from the night before) and he eagerly replied as that rush coursed through him all over again. The movements were hot and rapid, eager and hungry, and their experienced hands moved quickly. Fingers on flesh, teeth nipping and lips suckling; all of this sent them far over the edge. Partway through the hot exchange, before Miles was about to rip off the other's belt, he glanced up, hair tousled and hanging heavily in his eyes.

Phoenix had to admit that it was one of the hottest things he had ever witnessed. The prosecutor, bare up from the chest, heaving with heat and need, eyes staring off and his jaw catching in a window of light from the parking structure around them. Phoenix made a lusty noise of expectance, wanting the attention to turn back to himself, but Miles instead reached back for his shirt and tugged it on. Starting the car, leaving Phoenix sprawled in his seat and tight in his pants.

"W-What are you…" Phoenix tried to say, but Miles reached over and pushed on his groin to silence him. Phoenix moaned, giving Miles that same belittling smirk across his handsome face. Phoenix rebelliously knocked his hand back and tried to recollect himself. Of course they couldn't get far in the court parking structure; who knew who would walk by? It was risky business to say the least.

"Just hold your evidence until we reach the proper place, Phoenix," Miles told him in a low voice, and that was when the defense attorney noted he was in the same position as himself, except he was trying to drive. That sounded extremely hard to handle, and again, Phoenix was extremely glad he had yet to learn how to drive himself. He smirked at Miles, and leaned back into the soft leather seating. He'd try to keep himself comfortable for now.

"Yeah, well…You'll owe me."

A careful sip of the grape juice was what pulled him out of his memory. Fingers moving gingerly, carefully, as they ran over his cheek, wiping away the soft tears of reminisce. Phoenix removed his hand from the keys, letting the bottle rest back on the ground. Pulling the cover down and over the piano keys, he rested his head on his arms over it and stared blearily across the room.

"What are you playing?" Phoenix asked quietly from the couch, a blanket tugged over his spent figure. Edgeworth was wrapped in his own blanket at his piano, playing a soft little tune. The prosecutor didn't answer at first, his eyes deep and far away, but after a few times of playing the melody, he cleared his throat to prepare an answer. After thinking over his reply, he glanced to Phoenix and smiled faintly, "It was something my father taught to me when I was a young boy."

Phoenix nodded, then rested he head on the couch arm, watching his fingers move. "Did your father teach you to play piano?" he asked. "Or…?"

"No…Von Karma did," Miles admitted, smile disappearing. "He taught Franziska and I how, but I like to think it was my father who taught me." Using both hands now, he played a much more complex song, and the music was nice on Phoenix's ears. Lazily shutting his eyes and exhaling quietly, he listened to the sounds the piano made. It was deep, and involving…it sent goosebumps across his skin and it made something in his stomach twist. Such beautiful music…Anything Miles made was music to his ears.

The song stopped after a while and the sound of movement stirred Phoenix from a half-doze. A hand moved across his head in an act of genuine affection, and it made a silly, small grin appear on Phoenix's face. It was content and pleased--happy. "Miles," he mumbled into the couch arm, sleepy. "It'll be like this forever, won't it?" Miles merely crouched down, pressed a kiss to his forehead, and whispered for Phoenix to go to sleep.

Things like this could never last forever. Even as his world dissolved into dreams, Phoenix knew this. So why then…why then did he ask Miles the impossible? Maybe it was because everything felt possible when he was with Miles--whether it be getting his not guilty verdict, or whether it be fighting for dominance in bed, anything felt like it could be done.

Never would he imagine that forever would end faster than he thought.

"Daddy…" came the soft whisper from the door. Phoenix didn't look up, just weakly tried to quiet his quiet sobs. Trucy moved in and rubbed his back. "We should go home, daddy. I think we're done for the night as it is." Phoenix pulled his hat closer, nodding and standing up. Tugging it on over his mess of hair, he wiped his eyes and staring longingly at the piano. Trucy guided him away, concern in her eyes. As they walked home from the bar, Phoenix stared at his shoes, hands resting in his hoodie pocket. Trucy had an arm wrapped around his crooked elbow, silent for his sake. He was grateful.

When they were a block from home, Trucy asked the question she had asked before and never once got an answer for. "Where is he now?" Phoenix stared at his shoes and then he paused. A streetlamp glowed from above, casting shadows in all directions. Shoulders shaking, the man let harder tears flow.

"…I wish I knew, Trucy. I…I wish he were here. Go on home…I want to stay out a bit longer." With a gentle pat on her head, she sighed quietly, nodded, and continued. Glancing back after a few steps, she gave him her warmest smile and she held up two fingers, "Be careful, daddy! See you when you get home!" And she moved ahead with happy steps, belting out a song to fill up the silence of the city at night.

Phoenix watched her go until his eyes blurred with tears again. As he fell to his knees, sick with longing and heartbreak, he pawed at the spot on his chest where his old badge would be. Unaware how long he stared there, as such, and not really caring He didn't hear the purr of an engine that came by, or the soft squeal of brakes. He didn't hear the hesitant footsteps, and he didn't see a figure as it loomed over him.

A hand, so familiar, grabbed him by his collar and dragged him to his feet. Phoenix dragged his eyes up slowly. "…Miles?" he whispered, shaking with tears.

"No," came the soft sigh. "What a fool you have become, Phoenix Wright. Foolishly fooling yourself, the greatest fool of them all, of the foolish foolishness that is the concept of my foolish brother returning for you." Phoenix cleared his tears and saw who he was truly staring at. He looked down, backing away from her grasp. She didn't let him get too far, holding out a slip of blue paper and white writing with a gently added, "he sent this for you, Phoenix Wright. I didn't read it, but I'll have you know, it is a great pain for me to have brought it for you. I live on the other side of the--"

Phoenix took the slip of paper. His eyes moving over the paper greedily, trying to reconnect to his thoughts. Trying to find him through his neat, cursive writing. When done reading, he wiped away the rest of his tears. Franziska was gone, she had already stepped back inside of her car and was driving away. With a heavy sigh, expelling his sadness on his quiet breath, he adjusted his hat and tried to smile. This was enough to drive away the loneliness in his heart. "Thank you…Miles," he whispered.

"I'm sorry. I'll be home for you soon."