Knock. Knock. Knock.

No response was made.

Phoenix sighed. "Apollo," he called out, "it's been three days. Come out already."

Beside him, Trucy stood with a plate of food and a glass of water. "Come on, Polly, at least let me bring in your food. You can only go on without eating for so long, after all."

"…No thanks."

Phoenix weaved another sigh. "Just because your client was guilty, doesn't mean it's the world's end."

"I should've known."

"No, Apollo, don't play that card. It's not your fault." His voice was hard, sharp, as if he was angry. Maybe he was. In a sense, it was also his fault for not preparing the young apprentice for the inevitable.

Once again the young man in red refused to give an answer. Phoenix and Trucy exchanged a worried glance, before the man shrugged in a defeated manner.

"I'll leave your food here, Polly," Trucy finally said, before bending down to put the plate and water on the floor and walked away.

"You have to stop brooding like this, Apollo," said Phoenix again. "If you can't stop, your potential clients' future will be destroyed."

A dark chuckle came out from the room. "It's not like I have what it takes to keep doing this anyway, right?"

Phoenix banged at the door. "You have what it takes. You lost it for a while there, yes, but you'll get it back. I'll help you, Apollo. Trust me."

"…"

Knowing that Apollo wouldn't say anything anymore, Phoenix turned and walked away from the room.

Apollo waited until he no longer could hear the footsteps, then he stood up and tugged on his clothes. Instead of his usual shirt and vest, he was wearing a plain t-shirt. The red pants were gone, and in its place he wore tattered jeans. Putting on a sweater and a beanie would probably make him a 'Phoenix Junior'. He snorted at the thought.

He walked to the door, slowly unlocking it and opening it. The door gave out a faint creak, but even the soft sound was too much for his currently sensitive ears. He slowly, carefully took the plate of food Trucy brought him. A beef burger with slightly too much ketchup and mayonnaise, along with a glass of water. He glanced to his room. Inside, he had stacks of plates and glasses from the previous days' meals. Taking the plate and the glass in, he closed and relocked the door, silently telling himself to put all of the dishes in the sink. Probably he needed to wash them too, considering that he had caused the dysfunctional family much problem.

He slowly nibbled on the burger, chewing and swallowing the food, his thoughts filling his mind, leaving him no rest from days before. He had eaten half of his burger before he put it down and heaved a heavy sigh.

He had lost.

The defendant he was supposed to be defending turned out to be guilty. All the evidence had pointed to it, but Apollo believed he would find a loophole somehow, that his client was innocent after all. He fought tooth and nail to win the case and lost. And for that, he had almost lost Trucy.

He remembered that during his first solo case, Trucy had pulled off a trick, pretending to be kidnapped by a gangster (who was actually Mr. Hat) to get him off the hook; stalling, buying more time to get the case done. Well, his client had pulled the very same trick. However, this time, it was apparent that the intention was harmful. Apollo knew it. He wanted to believe the opposite, but the bloodlust in the man's eyes told him otherwise. Apollo was terrified back then. He couldn't do anything to wipe the fright out of Trucy's face. Klavier's expression after everything was taken care of; pity, traces of panic, and a bunch of other emotions he couldn't identify, only served to make him feel worse.

He clenched his fists. He should have seen it before. The man had looked suspiciously tense, more desperate than his previous clients. But then again, he hadn't gotten any normal clients before. But maybe it was only him trying to justify himself.

Why didn't he pick up the signs?

He was supposed to be the one able to perceive the signs. He was supposed to be the one able to stop it before it even started, because he should have seen them. But he didn't. It was all his fault. Everything that had happened was.

The desire to pick the burger and throw it on the wall was starting to build inside him, but he fought it off. The thought of having to clean up the messy sauce out of the white paint on the wall seemed reasonably unappealing to him. Instead, he resorted to throwing one of the dirty dishes on the floor to the wall. Good thing it was made out of plastic – he still didn't feel like cleaning up the mess. When it didn't help levitate his anxiety, he threw off another dirty dish. And then another, and another, and before he knew it he was out of ammo. He panted, feeling like screaming all of a sudden. He took the pillow lying prone on his bed and shoved it in his face before screaming as long and loud as he could.

It was upsetting, to say the least. Trucy had smiled after the ordeal, as if everything in the world was fine, everything made sense, as if nothing was wrong and they were all living in a land of happiness and bliss.

Except that it wasn't fine, it wasn't fine at all.

Apollo was able to perceive the quiver on her lips, the way her fingers trembled ever so slightly and how her knees would buckle without energy whenever she would sit. It had stopped after a few hours, but the fake smile she put was still there. She tried her hardest to look okay, and though maybe the rest of the world would be fooled, Apollo and Phoenix were special exceptions. The foster father had made a choice of not talking about the matter further, instead he settled to make Trucy a cup of warm chocolate milk and waited until sleep claimed her.

Apollo, however, couldn't do the same. The guilt, the knowledge that everything that happened could be stopped if only, if only he knew it, left him with such strong feeling of regret and self-hatred that he couldn't even smile at the young magician.

Apollo leaned to the door and slid down, sitting down on the cold tiled floor. A choked sob escaped his dry, cracked lips.

"The defendant is guilty."

The gavel swung down with absolute power. Nothing could stop its judgment. Everything was decided. Apollo felt cold all of a sudden. His knees were weak, his power leaving him. He failed. He didn't stand a chance. He glanced to Klavier, who was smiling at him triumphantly. It only made him feel worse.

"I'm sorry… I couldn't prove your innocence."

"It's okay, Mr. Justice. In the eyes of law I am guilty, but at least in your eyes I'm still innocent… right?"

"Of course. I have believed that you are not guilty from the start. I won't start doubting you now."

"It's nice to know that I am still worth that kind of trust. But, Mr. Justice, I believe you have made the wrong decision."

"Wrong decision…? What are you talking about?"

"I… am truly guilty from the very start."

He chose that moment to suddenly grab Trucy and pull her to his chest, placing a knife on her throat that Apollo didn't even know he had.

"Help – Polly!" Trucy's cries of fright and panic were almost crushing for him to hear.

"I will not get thrown into prison! Release me or I will take this girl's life!"

"Stop! This will give you no upper hand – they will just prolong your time in jail!"

"Wrong words to choose, Mr. Justice. I might as well die now."

"Polly!"

"Trucy!"

He woke up with a start.

It was well past midnight. His surroundings were pitched black. He could see nothing in the room. Reluctantly sliding away from his position by the door, he used his hands to make his way to the bed, since the light switch was placed right beside it. A click resounded throughout the room as he turned on the light. He closed his eyes as a hiss escaped his lips when the light invaded his line of vision. It was too bright, too hurtful, burning his eyes. He blinked a few times in an attempt to stop the light from further blinding him.

"Can't I have a moment of peace?" he mumbled to himself. Even in his sleep he was plagued by the memories of the trial. Absentmindedly, he recalled everything – after he screamed Trucy's name, the bailiff quickly used a tazer to paralyze the crazed man. Trucy didn't cry at all, but her face was pale, too pale, and Apollo couldn't help but shed some tears. It was his fault, anyway. If he didn't push his luck, or maybe if he pushed harder, the man could be proclaimed innocent and none of the entire ordeal would have had happened.

His eyes then fell on the dirty dishes littering the floor after he had thrown them on the wall in his previous temper tantrum. Remembering that he had wanted to put them all in the sink and wash them off himself, he silently picked up the plastic plates and glasses. He snorted when he did. He didn't know why but the Wrights seemed to prefer plastic or Styrofoam tableware. At first he didn't like it, but he had grown used to it. Besides, if they all were made of glass or ceramics, he would probably have cut himself hours ago.

Trying his hardest not to make any sound, he walked out of the room towards the kitchen. It was the Wrights' home, but since he spent most of his time with them Apollo eventually moved in with them. They had been like a family, even though they had only lived together for a few months, but now the relationship they had weaved was starting to crack. All because of him.

When he passed the living room, he was surprised to see Phoenix still up, silently watching the old episodes of the Steel Samurai. He paid no mind to the older man as he made his way to the kitchen and started washing the plates.

"I see you're finally out of your room," Phoenix's voice startled Apollo. However, the young attorney ignored him and scrubbed on the plates as if nothing had happened.

"I know you feel guilty, Apollo," Phoenix went on. "I know how you feel."

Apollo kept his silence for a few seconds before quietly saying, "No you don't."

"I do," Phoenix insisted. "I've been in your position. I know it."

"Yeah?" Apollo scrubbed harder. "Well tell me if you almost lost your assistant and lost a case, and even the prosecutor's feeling bad for you. This is, like, my first normal case, and I ended up losing it." He threw the plate into the sink. "Don't blame me for feeling bad."

Phoenix stared at him, his eyes unreadable, before telling him, "Wash your hands. Leave the dishes alone for a moment. Let's have a little chat."

Apollo chuckled darkly. "Well, news flash, I don't feel like chatting."

"Apollo. Now."

The sharp look in the older man's eyes told Apollo to comply even though he didn't want to. With a humph, Apollo washed his hands before following Phoenix to the living room, where the Steel Samurai episode was still on.

"I still don't feel like chatting, in case you haven't realized it." Apollo sulked as he plopped down on a couch.

Phoenix stared at him, leaning towards him as he sat on an opposite couch, his eyes still unreadable, however Apollo picked on something in his eyes; maybe pity, maybe sadness, but somehow he managed to recognize the regret flashing ever so slightly in there. He wondered why.

The words that left Phoenix's lips later then caught him off-guard. "I'm sorry."

He couldn't help but ask, "Why are you sorry?"

"I should've prepared you for this," he said. "For the inevitable. Every defense attorney would have a client that is truly guilty sooner or later. I never have prepared you for it. And I'm sorry."

Apollo wanted to rebut, to say something, to prove Phoenix that it was his fault, not the ex-attorney's, but he decided against it. It was clear that Phoenix still had much to say.

"Maybe, everything was my fault from the start," Phoenix continued. "I dragged you into this."

He wanted to say no, but suddenly, in his mind, everything that Apollo had been through and silently blamed Phoenix for flashed. "Hell yes," he growled before he could stop himself, and the angry tone surprised even him, although Phoenix didn't show if he, too, was surprised by it. "If in my first case I didn't defend you I wouldn't be like this now. If in my first case I didn't drive Mr. Gavin to jail I wouldn't be like this. If I didn't come and work for you I wouldn't be like this. If I didn't help you with the jurist system trial, I wouldn't be like this. If it wasn't for you in the first place, I wouldn't be sitting here, Trucy's life wouldn't have been threatened, and everything would have been fine. If it wasn't for you…!" He stopped to catch his breath, but found that he couldn't continue. It felt good to blame Phoenix, but he knew that it was wrong.

"Yes, everything was my fault," Phoenix said, "but if I didn't drive you to do all of that, imagine; Kristoph would roam free to kill others. Wocky might be dead and he'll never know why while Alita would receive a fortune she never deserved. Machi would be dead in Borginia and Lamiroir's life and career would be in jeopardy. Vera would never have found the confidence and courage to come out of her shell, forever cooped up in that little house of hers, never knowing why her father was killed, and why she would eventually die for."

Apollo kept silent.

"Think about everything that you have done for them, Apollo. You gave them the truth, the closure they desperately needed, the courage to face the world." He paused before continuing, "You also gave me the courage. To retake the bar exam."

And suddenly his anger and rage filled him. Before he could stop himself, Apollo was standing over the older man, growling menacingly and shouting in anger, the Chords of Steel kicking in without even trying, "But now that I thought about it, I was never really that precious to you, aren't I? I was merely a tool for you, a plaything, a pawn for you to use in your plans of petty revenge. You used me to put Mr. Gavin in prison. You used me to help locate that man who sent you thirty feet through the air and left you with a sprained ankle," Apollo couldn't help but laugh darkly at this, "even though we found out he was already dead after all. You used me to change the legal system of our country. In the end, it was all I was for you; a tool." His eyes flashed in anger. "And when you found that I have done all the things you needed me to do, you keep me anyway. What for? A case of emergency if you happen to have to change our legal system again? Or maybe you just need me to sit tight and pose as the most incredible protégé to make yourself seem good, to help raise your chances of retrieving your badge by stealing the heart of the public. Is that all I am to you?"

Phoenix shook his head. "No."

"Well I don't see anything that can prove me otherwise!" Apollo straightened, arms extended, as of challenging Phoenix to say something. His voice lowered, not so loud anymore, but the menace in it intensified tenfold. "The way I see it, I'm still a pawn for you."

Phoenix's eyes, too, now flashed dangerously. "I see you as a family, Apollo, like I see Trucy as my daughter."

"Oh, so now I'm a son you never had?" Apollo's tone was mocking.

Phoenix shot to his feet, standing upright, towering above the younger attorney, but Apollo didn't back down. Size didn't matter anymore for them; the fire burning through their eyes made it clear that they were both ready to swing punches and break the other's bones in a moment's notice.

Just when Apollo lifted his hands, when he was sure they would exchange a blow, a soft voice cut through the tension of the room like a hot knife cutting through butter, "Stop…!"

Both Apollo and Phoenix turned to the door to see Trucy standing there. She was wearing white pajamas that had a blue teddy bear pattern, her hair sticking out in all directions, carrying a mug of water in her hands. It was clear that she had just gotten out of bed.

"Trucy," Phoenix breathed. "What are you doing here?"

"I heard Polly shouting," answered Trucy, to which Apollo threw a guilty look at, "so I decided to check it out. Besides, I was thirsty. Why are you guys looking like you want to punch each other?"

Phoenix shook his head. "Nothing, Trucy. Just get in your room." When Trucy threw him a reluctant look, he added, "Please."

Trucy still looked hesitant, but she relented. "Okay, Daddy," she said. She turned and headed back to her room.

Phoenix sighed and plopped down on the couch. He breathed heavily there for a long time, while Apollo simply stared at him. He didn't know what to say. He didn't know what to do. Trucy, by showing up in the last minute, may have stopped them from actually fighting, but she had also increased his guilt. For some reason, looking at her made him feel worse, somehow.

"…I had an assistant, once."

Phoenix's voice snapped Apollo out of his stupor. Dumbly, he mumbled, "Huh?"

"Her name is Maya Fey," Phoenix continued as if Apollo never said anything. "She's the kind of person you'd call a danger magnet. It seems that almost everyone has a reason to put her life in jeopardy. It was far harder for her because mostly, the people who targeted her life were her own family."

Apollo didn't say anything. He didn't know how to respond to that. He simply reclaimed his seat and listened intently to what Phoenix had to say.

"She's a lot like Trucy. She was strong, really strong. Even though she faced many near-death experiences before she never cries, she merely smiles and shrugs it off as it nothing ever happened. But I knew better. Strength would only help someone hold on for so long. Every night, she would go into her room and cry."

Phoenix straightened his posture, and before he knew it Apollo did the same. Without even realizing it, he was staring at the older man like he always did with the witnesses, ready to take in every sign, every flinch, every twitch, everyblink. He was focused, and for a moment, he forgot about his own fears and worries.

"My first loss in a case…" Phoenix inhaled deeply, "it had a lot to do with her. I assume you know about the Matt Engarde case?"

Apollo nodded. "The press didn't really give details, but… he hired an assassin, didn't he?"

"He did," Phoenix said. "The assassin… Shelly De Killer. He was a very loyal man. In order to make sure that Engarde would be proclaimed innocent, he kidnapped Maya and called me. He told me to make sure that Engarde received a complete acquittal for Maya to be safe. In the end, I managed to save her, although Engarde was proclaimed guilty. It was then revealed to the world that Engarde was truly a rotten man that deserved more than just some time in jail. Even Shelly De Killer ended up telling him that he would hunt him down for making the assassin his enemy."

Phoenix's eyes met Apollo's. "You might think that it was all fine and dandy after all of that, since Maya was fine and all… but no. All hell broke loose after that.

"Maya might have escaped physically untouched, but it wasn't the same with her mind. She was scarred, afraid, even more than I thought she would. Like you, I was consumed by guilt. Had I not let her get abducted in the first place, none of it would have happened." He clenched in fists. "I felt so useless. I was supposed to be the one protecting her, but I couldn't do anything to help her. Nothing. None at all." His eyes were squeezed shut, as if he was preventing some old, bad memories to surface. Maybe it was what he did.

"Years after that, once again her life was put in danger," Phoenix continued. "She was almost killed. By the spirit of my ex, of all people."

Apollo wanted to ask him about that, but he figured it wasn't the right time. In his mind he noted that he might have to ask Phoenix about this 'ex' of his…

"It happened in a snowy mountain, in a place where spirit mediums in training exercised their mind and body to be able to channel spirits properly." Again, Apollo noted silently that he needed to ask Phoenix about it. "There was a cliff separating one part of the temple and another part, somewhat smaller but scarier temple. The only way to cross the cliff – which had some scary river under it – was using a bridge of wood and ropes."

Phoenix suddenly laughed darkly. "The bridge was then set aflame by some random thunder. Maya was in the temple across the cliff. I knew that she was in great danger, and the memories of my first loss in the Engarde case made me feel more frantic. I ran to cross the burning bridge but I fell to the river below. Thankfully, I was still alive. I managed to help Maya later on, with some help from some people, but the emotional baggage took a toll on her.

" She always acted strong in front of her cousin, not wanting her to get scared and worried for Maya's emotional state, but I also knew that she cried alone in the night. And it was really bad. She didn't want anyone to see that she was crying, and she only let me see it because I knew about the entire ordeal she had just went through. She wouldn't even let me know at first, and I was just a knowing spectator pretending not to know anything. I was the only one capable to truly know her and her feelings. She trusted me enough. But I felt pain, too, that time. From guilt. If I had prevented her from going to the temple across the cliff, none of that would have happened. It was all about blame game from there on."

Apollo didn't say anything. All that Phoenix was telling him was the same as his own problem. He dipped his head without even realizing it.

"But then I realized… it was no one's fault."

Apollo's eyes shifted upwards. "No one's?" he whispered, his voice so small that Phoenix almost couldn't believe it was the apprentice's voice.

Phoenix shook his head. "Whatever happened, happened. Sometimes you just can't stop something from happening, and you can't blame yourself, because it was what supposed to happen. If you keep accusing yourself to be guilty of it, nothing will ever be alright. Stop blaming yourself, Apollo. That way, you can be at peace with yourself."

Apollo didn't respond.

"If you can't do it, then at least try to forgive yourself. Accept that it had happened. Promise yourself that you won't let it happen again. Then, forgive yourself."

Apollo looked down. "I'm not sure I'd be able to."

Phoenix stood up and patted the younger man's shoulder. "Small steps, Apollo." He then stopped the Steel Samurai tape he was watching. "I suggest you sleep now. You need your rest."

Phoenix left the room with a "turn off the light later Apollo", leaving him alone with his thoughts.

'It was no one's fault'.

'Whatever happened, happened. Sometimes you just can't stop something from happening, and you can't blame yourself, because it was supposed to happen.'

Apollo didn't know if he would ever be able to do it. To forgive himself of what happened to Trucy. The idea of almost losing someone he thought of as a sister was terrifying, and he knew that he was responsible for it, thus he was unable to actually forgive himself.

But then, a memory of his own childhood appeared before his eyes. When he was little, he had kept a puppy he affectionately called Clooney. One day the puppy ran to the roads and was hit by a car. It died on the spot.

He was overcome by guilt, much like this time. If he hadn't let Clooney out of the house, Clooney would still be alive. If he had taken better care of the puppy it would still be here, with him. But he hadn't, and it was his entire fault.

Except that it wasn't, according to people around him.

It wasn't his fault, they said. It was unfortunate, it was such a sick twist of fate, but it wasn't his fault. He wasn't able to accept that, at first. He believed everyone was telling him that Clooney's death wasn't his fault simply to make him stop crying. He kept on blaming himself. But he was finally able to accept it. And it felt like a huge burden had been lifted off his shoulder, and he, at last, was able to smile again.

Apollo stood up, turning off the light and walked back to his room, the dirty dishes he was rubbing earlier gone from his mind as he walked through the house. He knew he wouldn't be able to do it so quickly, but he would try to forgive himself. Just as he had as a child. Just as he had succeeded to do as a boy.

'Small steps, Apollo.'

As he closed the door behind him, a small smile graced his lips. "Small steps." He took a deep breath. "Yeah, I can do that."

A/N: at last, an Ace Attorney one-shot after such a long time.

I don't even know why I write this one, hahaha. An idea just seemed to pop to my mind some time ago and it turned into this. Thankfully it makes sense, most of the random-plot-bunny-attack stories are usually senseless.

Thanks a lot for my beta-reader, SweetieLove, for her help in this story. There are actually lots of mistakes I made here, I feel ashamed of calling myself a writer while I take language classes (including English Literature) in my school. *squats in the corner of the room and draws circles on the floor* If SweetieLove didn't beta-read this story, you'll see lots of those mistakes winking playfully at you.

And, see that review button down there? I believe it's asking you to leave me a review...