All I See Is Red.
A collaborative story by Spadework2 & Kongu123

Warning: For new readers, it is highly recommended that you read 'It's Not Easy Wearing Red' first

Chapter 1: Of Bar Fights and Bad Drinks

Disclaimer: Apollo Justice, Ace Attorney, and all related characters, situations, logos, ect, belong to Capcom. The Original Characters who are portrayed in this fiction are technically intellectual property of Spadework2 and Kongu123. Any attempts to say otherwise will be met with Kristoph Gavin appearing and sawing your legs off.

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January 2027

Los Angeles had a thriving nightlife, leaving parts of the city bright and clear for the parties and the good times, while other parts of the city remained dark for things which were best not seen. Each place had it's denizens, but none of them belonged to the red clad attorney who marched purposefully toward his goal.

Apollo Justice felt that he had a long night ahead of him. It was already nearly eleven, and he was about to go demand a story from a bunch of Ex-Gangsters. The thought had occurred that they might not particularly care about what he wanted, but he was determined to learn more about his father than he could possibly get from his evasive mother.

As he walked down the sidewalk toward the Freedom Bar, Apollo began to think about the possibility that nobody would know the rest of the story except for his mother.
'If that's the case, I'll just have to go research it myself. I know his name, and his affiliation with the Collins Crew. There has got to be someone who knows something about him...'

The flashing red sign of the Freedom Bar was soon directly above Apollo's head, he raised his hand ready to pull open the door and walk into what used to be his fathers life. As his hand clenched the handle,
'Do I really want to know about what my father did? He obviously died, is that why she couldn't tell me the rest?'

Apollo opened the door.

The Freedom bar was a name that did not suit it's interior. The place was stuffed with so many tables and chairs, that Apollo might as well dance across the tables to the bar. As he was about to attempt to get over the obstacles, a man standing hidden next to the door stirred, "You might want to come back later. We are closing, da?" Apollo turned around to see a man in a red suit stare at him from red rimmed eyes, a bottle of vodka in the crook of his arm.

Apollo glared at the bouncer, "You're Vlad."

Vlad nodded with a lopsided grin, "That is my name. And you are the little punk who came in earlier to harass Phil."

Apollo snorted, "That's the guy who said he was 'Uncle', right?"

Vlad nodded, "Da, he's behind the bar, putting the place to bed. Whatever you're here for, be quick about it, little boy."

The young attorney snorted again, and made his way to the bar. He was so single minded in his purpose that he didn't notice Vlad walk around the mass of furniture to keep an eye on him, or how Vlad nodded to one of the other workers, who helped keep an eye on the obviously disgruntled attorney.

Apollo got to the bar, "Phil? Uncle? Whatever the hell you call yourself? Get over here!" Right in front of his eyes, the older man appeared from beneath the bar, a barely tolerant expression on his face, "Right, lad, why don't you keep your noise down? I don't mind talking to you, but we should do it tomorrow..."

Apollo glared at him incredulously, "You guys are a bar! Why are you closing before midnight?"

Phil shrugged, "It would be too slow on a Sunday night. I've got better things to do than to nurture the few drunks that would come in till 3 in the morning..."

Apollo nodded, "Fine. I need to talk to you."

Phil chuckled tolerantly, and put some glasses on the bar and began to clean them, "Right then. I suppose that your mother has told you some things about that marvelous dad of yours?"

Apollo glanced away, "Yes."

Phil paused in cleaning the glass, looking at Apollo over his sunglasses, "Didn't like what your heard?"

Apollo sighed, "I... don't know what I think. Mom said that he was a good person, but all those things he did... I don't know what to think about that..."

Phil chuckled darkly, "I suppose I can see that. But I'm biased, seeing as how I knew him since he was practically a little ankle biter."

Apollo looked up, "You knew him his whole life?"

Phil nodded, "Of course. Didn't your mother tell you that?"

Apollo remained silent, and Phil went back to cleaning the glass, "I see, so you want me to fill in the blanks of your mothers story? Fine... ask what questions you want. I'll answer if I'm able."

Apollo glared at the older man, "I want you to tell me everything that happened after you reopened this bar."

Phil once again stopped cleaning the glass, and this time he looked confused, "What? Everything? Didn't Thal... didn't she tell you?" Apollo shook his head, and Phil shrugged, "Then I'm not stupid enough to talk. You want to know, wait until she's ready."

Apollo slammed the bar, sending several of the glasses toppling back over, "Don't you see? She's never going to be ready! She said she wouldn't ever tell me!"

Phil glared at him over the bar, obviously mad about his glasses, "Then you best make your peace! I'm not stupid enough to go over your Mother. Especially if her punches still sting like they used to." Phil pushed his sunglasses up his nose, letting them shine, "I believe we have exhausted the possibilities of this conversation, lad. Be off with you..."

Apollo got off the stool, still facing the bartender, "I'm not finished with you. Or with this story. I want to know everything..." Apollo turned and looked around, finally settling his intense gaze on the nearest chair, "What is this furniture made of?"

Phil narrowed his eyes, "It's solid oak. Why do you car- SHIT!" Apollo rapidly picked up the nearest chair and threw it at the older man. Phil ducked quickly, but he was not quick enough to grab the chair and save the thousands of dollars worth of wines that was on display behind him. Phil glanced at the damage as if he refused to believe it had actually happened.

The bartender turned to meet his attacker, sliding himself over the bar, "I see how it is! Beat the story outta me, why don't you?"

Apollo snarled, "Is that an invitation?" Like he had done to his mentor the first day he had met him, Apollo threw a solid punch at Phil. Phil, unfortunately, was much older than Phoenix Wright. Despite his hard life and exceptional physical condition for his age, he was not quick enough to dodge the blow, or strong enough to remain standing after it connected with his face, smashing his sunglasses.

As Phil crumpled from Apollo's adrenaline powered blow, The attorney began to shake with rage, "Think you can just refuse to tell me stuff? These people abandoned me to live alone for almost my entire life! You fucking owe me-" Apollo's speech was cut short as Vlad, who had snuck unseen behind him, swung his vodka glass onto Apollo's head, knocking him out cold. The young attorney crumpled next to Phil who was struggling to sit up, rubbing his face.

Jeremiah and Vlad walked up and held their hands out to him, but Phil waved them away and got himself up. Jeremiah grinned, "Jesus, you really are getting old..."

Phil glowered at him, "Shut the hell up."

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Apollo awoke as cold water splashed against his face, wetting his hair down as well as his suit. He weakly began to sit up, and was forced back down by a hard object. He focused his vision on the large wooden club that was held against his chest. He followed his own gaze until he saw Phil, who was looking back at the young attorney.

"You smashed my bar. And you smashed my sunglasses. Not to mention that you left a mark on my handsome face." The bartender leaned forward, "You owe me 2,489 dollars sunshine."

Apollo snorted, "I assume this is where you tell me you're going to beat it out of me? Go ahead."

Phil's eyebrow shot up, and he looked at Jeremiah, who was holding the bucket which had served as Apollo's alarm clock. Jeremiah shrugged, and Phil rolled his eyes, pulling up the club and resting it on his shoulder, "Did she say why she wouldn't talk to you about it?"

Apollo began to sit up, "What do you mean?" said Apollo while rubbing the top his head and trying to reclaim some clarity in his mind. Phil looked at him for a moment, before Apollo remembered, "Oh, she said it made her sad and she wasn't strong enough and stuff like that before she left."

The bartender remained silent for a moment, then, "What happened to her? These last couple of years. Do you know?"

Apollo nodded, and began to relate the events where he had met the famous singer Lamiroir, and the ensuing murder trial. Then he talked about her revealing that she was not only Thalassa Gramarye, but his mother, "Then I came here. You made some comments about my suit, and I went back to ask her about my father. Now I'm back."

Phil remained silent for a moment, absorbing all the information that Apollo had told him. Finally he sighed, "Jeremiah, go get us some chairs. My back is beginning to kill me."

Jeremiah grinned, "You got it, old timer."

The ex-gangster disappeared down the stairs, while Phil sighed, "God, I am getting old. So old that kids of men I used to know are demanding bedtime stories."

Apollo was about to utter a retort, when Phil smiled, "Don't take it personally, lad. I insult people. It's fun." Jeremiah returned with two chairs, and Phil gratefully sat down, with Apollo opposite of him. The older man took out a cigar and lit it, leaving it in his mouth and sitting back, "Now then, what was the last thing your mother told you?"

Apollo folded his arms, "Why did you change your mind?"

Phil's eyebrow shot up, "I'm handing you what you asked for on a silver platter, and you're questioning it?"

The attorney nodded, "I'm not used to having things handed to me. I question everything." Phil stared at him, and Apollo continued, "I didn't have anybody come up and drag me out of the mire when I was a kid. I had to dig myself out. Gavin didn't help me, my school didn't help me. Hell, even Wright doesn't help me."

Phil began to chuckle, "I see. That explains... a lot of things." Phil seemed to squint at him for a moment, "You have some things in common with your father, but you're not very much like him."

Apollo shrugged, "Honestly, I think that's a good thing."

The bartender exhaled, and then put the cigar back in his mouth, "Can't argue with that. I assume you make an honest living. You know, that reminds me..." Phil sat forward, his eyes boring into Apollo's, "What do you do for a living?"

Apollo stiffened for a moment, then answered, "I'm a defense attorney."

Phil stared at him for a moment in shock, his cigar falling out of his mouth. Then he burst into helpless laughter. He gripped the arms of his chair, howling with mirth. He made such a commotion that Jeremiah and Vlad popped their heads into the room, clearly alarmed.

Vlad indicated Phil with a nod of his head, "What did you say? We don't want him to have a heart attack and die..."

Apollo shrugged, "I told him that I'm a lawyer."

Jeremiah began to chuckle, and Vlad snorted, "Figures. Small boy joins the good fight... on the wrong side."

Apollo stood up, "The law isn't the wrong side. Yes, they've made mistakes, but we're fixing them." Jeremiah nodded, "That's somewhat true. I heard about them using a jury. But I guess it was just a test."

Apollo nodded, "The Misham Case. Vera Misham was arrested for the murder of her father. She was named Not Guilty by the jury, because there was evidence that he was in fact killed by Kristoph Gavin."

Vlad narrowed his eyes, "How do you know so much about it?"

The young defense attorney grinned, "Because I was the defense attorney in that case."

Phil finally recovered, sitting back in his chair, "Good, your father would have liked that. Helping the law get back on the straight and narrow. Even then, I'm sure he would have been happy if you enjoy what you are doing and are safe..." The bartender began to polish his club, looking up thoughtfully, "Regardless, I changed my mind because... you're argument moved me."

Apollo's eyebrow shot up, "My argument?"

Phil nodded, "The whole 'I've been abandoned' thing. You're right, she does owe you the explanation. However," The older man leaned forward, "I want to ask you what you plan to do with her."

Apollo leaned back, "What do you mean?"

Phil spread his hands, "I have an explanation for why your parents weren't there for you. So, are you going to use it as an excuse to abandon them?" Apollo's mouth dropped open, then he looked away, "I don't know what I'm going to do. It's still all so new."

Phil leaned back, "Before I begin I just want to ask you, are you going to reject the chance for having a real family because you want to hate them?" Apollo remained silent, and Phil smiled, "You don't have to answer me, lad. Just food for thought."

Phil lit another cigar, exhaled, then leaned back and relaxed, "Now, we had just opened the Freedom bar. Let's see..."

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Kristoph Shorts return in 'My Bloody Valentine.'

Ema: Hey, Gavin, why did you send me a valentine?
Klavier: As much as I would love to take credit, Fraulein, I'm afraid I have not put my valentine for you in the mail yet.
Ema: Huh. It says 'Gavin' on it. It's a package too. I wonder what's in it.
Klavier: Let me see the return addres- DON'T OPEN IT! *Grabs package*
Ema: Fop! Give it back!
Klavier: It's from Kristoph, and you should never trust anything he sends! *Opens package*
Ema: What is it?
Klavier: *sickly* "Dear Ms. Skye. I heard you like forensics, so I sent you the head of my roommate..."

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And so it begins, again. Don't worry guys, it will get better. Thanks for reading, and be sure to leave a review. Thanks!

His eyes glued to the review screen,
~ Kongu123

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And the second part to this saga begins. Hope you guys are prepared to see this through. Not sure we are... just kidding.

For some reason has started to play the original Silent Hill again,
~ Spadework2