Work Text:
Thanks to @prince_pqul for beta-ing this fanfic so much! you rock, friend.
Thanks to @plasticpinkcats for this amazing cover! (Thanks to my friend who commissioned it, it means the world to me)
“What do you mean Phoenix Wright got married ?!”
A woman in her twenties, wearing turquoise pyjamas that matched her hair and eye colour, yelled with bewilderment, pacing back and forth while she shuffled her phone to the other ear in disbelief. ‘ Oh, you don’t even know the half of it Franziska! ’ The other woman on the line sighed in exasperation. ‘ I just learned of it a couple of days ago when Nick visited us with Truce and his husband! ’
Franziska sat down, putting her palm to her face in astonishment, hearing her friend vent about the unusual situation through unstoppable blabber. ‘ I haven’t heard of him for months! I called his phone several times and texted him a hundred times more. I went to his apartment and agency, mind you, but he still wasn’t there…. Suddenly, he shows up in the manor with Trucy and a really tall, neat, handsome blonde guy . I was surprised, you know? I thought something bad had happened to Nick but noooo ! He got married in Las Vegas and was moving into his new husband’s house all the time he went missing .’
“Who is he, Maya Fey? The Dummkopf's husband,” Franziska inquired with masked indifference, growing tense with each new information dropped on her by the chatterbox.
‘ I think his name was... uhh Pearly do you know his name? Christopher Gawain? He’s a famous defence attorney. He has wealth, fame, and “connections”; Nick told me before he peaced out into the oblivion. ’
Sucking the air between her teeth, Franziska knew immediately who Maya was talking about. “You mean Kristoph Gavin.”
She rubbed her face with sudden exhaustion taking over her. “I know of that man, as his name was known in Germany before he moved to America with his younger brother Kantilen Gavin. I believe his sibling is a prosecutor.”
‘Uhh... I hate to break it to you, but I believe his brother’s name is Klavier. He’s a musician and his band is pretty famous.’
“No, Maya Fey, I’m pretty sure his name is Kantilen Gavin and he is a prosecutor . Who names their child piano in German? No one in their right mind, I assure you.”
‘ OK Franzy, that isn’t our topic for today! We’re talking about Nick and his adventurous, scandalous escapade, ’ Maya snarked, pouting with a faux annoyance.
Rolling her eyes, Franziska nodded, even though Maya wouldn’t see her. “Yes, yes, get to the point already without all these long introductions,” She urged with clear frustration. “Maya Fey, are you telling me all of this so I can deliver this hideous news to my little brother ?”
Few moments of silence followed before Maya spoke in a hush. ‘ In a way, yeah.’ She drank something before she continued talking, sadness and weariness taking over as her voice quivered. ‘ I’m sorry for dumping this bombshell onto you, but you’re his sister. You know how to say this as nicely as possible, without any problem arising between the two. ’
“Maya Fey,” Frasizka huffed, holding back a laugh at the amusing contradictions in Maya’s statement. “Have you known me for being nice ? Mein Gott… Anyhow...” She paused, feeling her heart hammer loudly, cringing the moment she mumbled the words. “I’ll try my best to tell Miles Edgeworth about... Phoenix Wright’s new... partner . I presume it’s Wright-Gavin now.”
‘ Yeah, It is.’ A pause. ‘Thank you... You already helped me out. ” Franziska sensed the smile vibrate from that sentence over the phone. “I’ll have to help out in the manor, as Pearly has been standing patiently near the door for a few hours. ’
Had it been hours? Talking with Maya Fey was bound to make someone lose their track of time. Franziska noted that as Maya continued to ramble. ‘ I’ll call you late, OK? Bye Franzy! ’
“Goodbye, Maya Fey.” She ended the call.
Now, how should she approach the topic with Miles? Franziska threw her phone over the coffee table, pondering over the million scenarios where everything could go wrong in seconds. Best case scenario, Miles accepted the new and official relationship between the ex-attorney and another lawyer. But in the worst-case scenario, her brother would go missing after hearing the news with lower chances of being found... Alive , that was.
Shaking her head, she was determined to lay the news right in front of her brother, even if it caused the sky to crumble and collapse over the earth with such force. It was for his sake, anyway.
The moon’s dim light flickered between the grey clouds, scattered by the freezing breeze of a normal day in Hamburg. Franziska wore a long black shirt with glittering, golden sleeves, along with black leather and heels. She took her white purse as she walked outside the hotel room, while steady clicks quaked under her well-founded straight walk. Franzsika glanced at the elevator and ignored it. Walking up the emergency stairs with a haste, harkening back to memories of old failures.
Exiting the hotel after minutes of angrily marching down the stairs, she waved to a taxi until one stopped. She informed the driver about the other hotel, where Miles was dwelling in, and he drove the car to her brother’s suite. She gave the driver his pay and grumbled all the way to the door, drowning in the possibilities of any situation that would fall after she knocked on that door and explained what had transpired. They were horrible thoughts with whispers at the back of her head, feasting on her insecurities.
Cautiously, she swallowed the growing bile burning at the back of her throat and knocked on the door, hesitant yet firm. Franziska waited patiently until a flicker of metal turning caught her senses. The door opened with the loudest squeak.
Straightening her stance, she wore the stoic look of indifference as Miles greeted her with a small nod and smile, encouraging her to come inside. She did so, following her brother with many thoughts taking control over her.
Miles had been enwrapped with many events the past couple of weeks, which interfered with the news of Phoenix Wright's disbarment reaching his ears. After the news had finally made its way to him, Miles offered to help out Phoenix getting his badge back and exposing the alleged forger who bested Phoenix in his need of evidence. But alas, Phoenix refused every request the ruthless prosecutor made. Feeding him what seemed to be hopeful promises– Well, they were more like empty vows to fool her little brother, now that she thought about their past interactions.
Ushering her to sit, Miles poured a cup of his favourite tea for Franziska. “Well, well… Whom do I owe the pleasure of making you visit me, Franziska?” Miles purred, sitting down on his sofa. Intending to tease his sister until she started whipping anything that moved.
Instead, he was met with a heavy silence, awkward glances, and stiffened movement. He cast aside his teapot, not minding that he didn’t treat himself to a cup, and stared at her with worry. “Franziska, what happened?” He brought himself closer to her. “You can tell me about it.”
“Miles Edgeworth…” Sweat began to form on her forehead. She had to say it. Better for him to hear the news from her than anyone else. All at once, she spat the shocking words from her dry mouth.
“PHOENIXWRIGHTEISMARRIEDNOW!!”
She inhaled air with full force, averting her eyes from her little brother. Minutes had passed and the clock ticked each second, turning into minutes. The world around them had stopped. Franziska exhaled barely, encouraging herself to look at Miles with a nervous eye. “Miles…” She raised her hand, patting his shoulder. He looked heartbroken. Utterly devastated and shuddering like he was under freezing waterfalls.
He barely choked out, “Phoenix... W-When? He didn’t– I called and he never breathed a word of it.”
Franziska bit her lower lip, holding her tongue from saying anything with a bite. “He got married when he went to Las Vegas.” After sighing, she continued, carefully measuring each word to say. “Maya Fey didn’t tell me much, other than he married Kristoph Gavin and lives with him and his daughter.”
“Wait…” Miles glared into Franziska’s eyes with a burning red, clinging to the white sea in his irises. “Kristoph Gavin? H-How is that even possible?”
Franziska shook her head in confusion. “What do you even mean, little brother?”
“He told me he suspects Gavin for his disbarment and he's been investigating the man ever since. How on earth could he marry the man he suspects for his demise ?!” Standing up, Miles paced around the room in haste, clenching his fists until his knuckles turned whiter than his pale skin. “There has to be something ! Wright isn’t this foolish to marry an alleged nemesis of his!”
Franziska also stood up, folding her arms tightly. “Miles Edgeworth, you aren’t making any sense... Do you think that foolish ex-attorney doesn’t know whose his best interest lays with?” She sneered, glaring at her brother with hidden concern. “Cease those foolish ideas and give the foolish fool a call to congratulate him. You’re his best friend after all.”
Rubbing the salt against his wounds, she knew better than to stab him with the reality he refused to glance at, but she had to shove the idea inside his head. Painting the world with pink wasn’t her idea of a perfect life after all, as perfection was laid down with all of its joys and woes, full of tragedy and prosperity in a different capacity which people often didn’t fathom.
“I’m going to charter a jet. I need to see this charade with my own eyes.” Mumbling his private thoughts out loud, Miles didn’t stop walking around in his suite, seemingly absorbed in his bubble of heartbreak.
Gazing at the state of her brother, Franziska shook her head with disappointment. He wasn’t going to listen to her. If he was that foolish to achieve his own destruction, she would be happy to help him see the domestic bliss Phoenix Wright-Gavin lived in. After all, what could possibly go wrong with a small visit to congratulate the foolishly foolish fool on his unsettling marriage? Nothing could go wrong. Nothing at all.
The next day, Franziska and Miles travelled thirteen hours in a private jet. Silence grew louder, the hours passing as slow as an hourglass’ sand trickling down to join a heap of passed grains. They didn’t talk to each other, even when they landed at LAX, rode with detective Gumshoe, and entered Miles’ apartment to change their clothes to rest up.
Doubt started to grab hold of Franziska as she saw Miles call Phoenix to talk with him for a while. He did not shout or yell once. He was calm as the sea on a moonless night, seemingly happy for the other man and lecturing him about the needs of sharing the joyous news. Restlessly, she couldn’t sleep a wink with her brother resting with a glass of vintage wine in his hand, swinging it left and right with humming tones of his favourite childish T.V. show, as if it were a normal Saturday night. He was indeed foolish for acting like a child at such a time.
He was in denial, she was sure of that, as he acted far too happy and too calm and to be the ol' grumpy Miles Edgeworth. Franziska perceived the odds of his behaviour. He obviously wasn’t fine with the new arrangement, as he was getting calmer with each thing that should’ve irritated the man. It wasn’t a good plan to leave him all alone by himself.
As he was attending ongoing therapy since his nightmares had been cleared up. He began to get better at handling his emotions without lashing out in the wrong ways. Maybe he followed the therapist’s instructions of being calm, letting his mind soak in understanding the situation better before he fell into baseless judgement.
After a few hours, deciding that sleep wouldn’t give her its blessings after flipping to different sides of her bed, Franziska rose. She rushed to the casted large bag and snatched a tacky travel toothbrush in her travelling bag. Marching into the bathroom, she brushed her teeth and showered under the rigid water to help to calm her nerves. Afterwards, she wrapped herself with her usual outfit and newly black vest, arrayed with gold.
She walked out of the bathroom to see Miles wearing his trademark suit sans the jabot. With a final tweak to his vest, he took his coat over the sofa's head.
“Ready?” He asked, holding his coat under his armpit.
“Yes. Let’s get going.”
The hour struck seven PM, thus marking the moment Miles knocked on the door to the Wright-Gavin's residence. Tugging her left sleeve tightly, Franziska tapped her foot against the ground repeatedly, unease and uncertainty heightened in her core. A loud screech deafened her ears as the door opened heavily. Peeking from the small crack was a young girl, seemingly around twelve years old with brown eyes and hair, braided into a ponytail. The kid wore a casual outfit with a navy neckerchief, smiling happily when she saw Miles, opening the door further.
“Uncle Miles!” She launched towards Miles, wrapping her arms around him without any care for his stiffened posture. “I missed you so much!”
“Trucy…” Begrudgingly, he hugged her back, a soft smile planted on his fatigued face. “I-I missed you too.” The lines on his forehead smoothed out from his stress.
She backed down with a toothy grin and fixed her gaze on Franziska, who hadn’t uttered a word, watching the scene before her with curiosity. “Who is she, Uncle Miles? I’ve never seen her before.”
Miles pointed at his sister, a smile lingering with a hint of playfulness. “Ah, she is my ‘older’ sister, Franziska von Karma.” And then pointed at Trucy. “This is Trucy, Wright’s daughter– I’m sure you heard of her before.”
Franziska arched her brow when she sensed a hint of fatherly love in his tone, then scoffed haughtily. “Yes, I heard a lot about you from Maya Fey.” She uncrossed her arms and let them hang around her aimlessly. “It’s n-nice seeing you for the first time.”
Clapping her hands with excitement, Trucy giggled cheerfully. “Likewise! Auntie Maya talked a lot about you. I heard you can magically summon a whip on command, I need to learn that from you, Auntie Franzy.”
Miles placed his hand over his mouth, hiding away his laughter from his befuddled sister. “Auntie Franzy?” Franziska inquired, looking puzzled about the whole conversation.
“Aren’t you Uncle Miles’ sister? That means you’re my auntie!” Trucy explained with conviction, waving her finger around as if she was saying the most obvious thing in the world.
Nodding, Franziska hummed in agreement, “That’s true.”
A fostering smile curled up on her lined lips. “As expected from my niece– always so smart and logical with her arguments.”
“Hehe…” Her smile shone brighter than the sun itself as she urged them. “Come on in! Daddy is waiting for you.” Then, she whispered loudly like she was telling a big secret, cupping her hand in a comedic attempt to hide her words. “Uncle Kris is running a bit late– he’s busy with his job.”
Both siblings hummed in understanding and walked behind the bouncing Trucy. They threw glances around the large suite with bewilderment, as classy furniture decorated the living room. Led by the young girl, they observed slicked couches, pristine portraits, waxed tables, and many other unmarred furnishings that bestrewed the ménage. Cautious signs passed Franziska, giving her an underlying sense of alarm and apprehension. There was nothing that led to Phoenix and his daughter living in this suite– not even a large black piano for the presumed piano player.
From what she gathered, thanks to Maya’s unsubdued babbling, Trucy loved magic. Anything about magic was at her fingertips; from the smallest props to the largest traps, scattered everywhere without any care of neatness and tidiness. However, their house was far too proper for a twelve years old girl, one who loved throwing her props around, exclaiming that magic was the answer to all predicaments.
Knitting her brows together, Franziska gathered her facts with unbiased judgement to the forefront of her mind. The two of them were guests, visiting an old friend to congratulate him on an impromptu marriage. It would make logical sense for the Wright-Gavins to tidy up the suite for their upcoming guests.
“Heh. I didn’t think I would be visited by the great Franziska von Karma herself.” A coy voice, that she hated to hear so much, had just interrupted her train of thought.
She hissed with annoyance, thumbing the place where she always attached her whip to her belt as she scanned the raven-haired man with disdain. Phoenix was wearing a grey sweater and pants with a blue beanie donning the word 'PaPa' in pink to the side. His facial hair grew unattended, akin to a hobo. A whiff of wine abided on his breath and clothes, rendering him drunk before his guests' arrival.
“Phoenix Wright, what is with this vagabond look? You grew more hideous than the last time I saw you,” Franziska huffed.
Ruefully, Phoenix guffawed with laughter at her reaction, shoulders rocking him. “Just letting out my sense of fashion overtake me, as you know, as I no longer need to wear my suit.” He then added with a tease, “I missed our little banter, dear prosecutor .” He snapped a glance at Miles, gloomily nodding.
“Sit down, Uncle Miles and Auntie Franzy! I’ll bring some drinks right away!” Trucy saluted with a grand smile before running across the living room to the kitchenette.
The siblings looked at each other before they sat in front of Phoenix, who didn't bother to look at them. He began to pour what seemed to be wine into a respective glass a few glances around cautiously, examining his guests.
“So, what brings you both to my house?” Phoenix inquired, kissing his glass’s tip with a lazy expression, half-lidded eyes staring through their souls.
Franziska coughed, encouraging Miles to begin talking with glares. Miles swallowed, then asked with a strained voice. “We heard that… you got married. We travelled to bid you our congratulations.”
Phoenix hummed in acknowledgement, with a half-smile resting on his face. He sipped his drink, then toyed with his cup for a bit before placing it back on the table. “Thank you. I know it was out of nowhere, but it so happened that we both wanted to be in each other’s lives more than normal friends would.”
“Wright,” Miles clenched his fist hard, eyeing the other man with anguish, “we both know it’s a lie.”
Franziska stared at Miles, panicked over the sudden shift of tone. However, he still continued. “You told me a couple of months ago that you suspected that man to be your adversary, the foe who blew away your entire career with a single piece of forged evidence.” Slamming the table with his clenched fist, he uttered in a low voice, careful to not alarm the still working Trucy. “And now, unexpectedly, you marry him?”
Phoenix tugged his beanie down, everting the fabric as to shield his eyes. “Yeah, it happens like that sometimes… You doubt and suspect, but nothing comes of it, so you drop it.”
“Really, Wright? Is that what you truly believe?” Miles snarled, frowning over the ridiculous claims his friend was saying. “I don’t buy a second of it.”
Phoenix erased his faux smile as he noticed his daughter coming back. He fixed Miles a glare of his own. “Miles. Drop it. Trucy is coming back.”
Crossing his arms, Miles pressed his lips closed with contempt. Glaring at Phoenix, Miles studied the other’s mask, growing ache that swam in his ashen eyes. “Hmmph.”
“Let me help you, my niece.” Franziska stood up, walking towards the jumping Trucy with a kettle and tea cups, scoffing at the two men. “Those two are insufferable,” she said to Trucy.
She placed the kettle on the table. Trucy laughed and snapped her fingers, making the cups reappear onto thin air. “And, that is the end of my little display of magic!” She sat next to her relaxed dad, putting her arms around him as he tugged her in closer.
“Daddy, when is Uncle Kris going to be here? It’s getting late,” Trucy whined, oblivious to the improbable tension that was occurring between the siblings. “Did you call him?”
“No, I’m sure he is engrossed in a file and didn’t see the time– he’ll be here soon.” Phoenix fixed his posture, leaning towards the kettle to pour some tea for his angered guests. “I hope you don’t mind waiting for him; he always loves to finish his work before he returns home.” He smiled coquettishly, stealing glances at the stiffened prosecutors. “How was your work, by the way?”
And lost in the small conversations they were, however the suffocating tension didn’t leave, but rather adhered itself in the room tighter and tighter every growing second. Leaving little space for breathers, they chatted and drank the abominable tea made by the sweet girl, and awaited Kristoph’s arrival. It took him an hour to get home, but upon an unlock click of the door, Trucy ran to greet her new found father. Phoenix stood up for the first time since his guests showed up and sauntered behind his daughter with a quick tug on his blue beanie.
Franziska held her brother’s arm with a strong grip after the Wright-Gavins disappeared from their sight. “If I hear one thing about your whiny rejections to this marriage, I’ll whip you so hard that you’ll forget who Phoenix Wright-Gavin is.” She hissed in a hushed voice, “I don’t want a fight to happen here, understood?”
Nodding, Miles brushed away her bruising grip and concentrated on drinking the now awful cold tea. He placed his tea cup down, not looking at Wright-Gavin’s radiant portrait hanging on the front wall. The three Wright-Gavins came to the siblings' view, Franziska lifted herself, swiftly placing her cup on the table with a stoic expression. She looked to Miles once, ushering him to stand up as well.
Reluctantly, Miles raised from his place, glaring at the tall blonde man. He bore a pair of glasses and full lavender suit with a normal necktie, his attorney's badge shone on his lapel. Franziska glanced between her brother and the blonde with weary eyes, waiting for a clash of words to happen at any moment. However, that didn’t happen.
Astounded by the soft smile Miles mastered, Franziska watched the two men shake their hands, greeting each other with the utmost, frankly unexpecting respect. Phoenix passed them and fumbled on the couch, pouring himself another glass of ‘grape juice’, as he claimed. Leaning so far into the couch as though he wanted to be swallowed inside, Franziska noticed an abrupt flash of despondency on his sapphire eyes, but she dismissed it as exhaustion. She then peered at the blonde man with alertness.
“I apologise for my lateness, Mr. Edgeworth and Ms. von Karma.” Kristoph spoke with elegance, reaching his hand toward her. She glared for a second before she shook it.
“Do not apologise for doing your job with perfection and precision, Kristoph Wright-Gavin.” She took notice of his polished nails before she broke the shake. A grimace washed over Miles’s face before he masked it with his aloof attitude.
Miles inhaled as he sat back on the couch, focusing on Phoenix with growing doubt. However, he remained silent, locking his detections and accusations inside a box. Briskly, Kristoph passed Franziska and seated himself upright beside Phoenix. Behind the couch, Trucy rested her arms over the headrests, contently willing to listen while she shuffled her feet around.
Franziska moved to the nearest wall, leaning back as she locked her eyes on the three men. The twisting dread in her stomach left her with no choice but to remain standing, scorning to be between the duel of the glittering icy oceans against ashen coal residue. Clutching her arm, she swore for a moment that she saw Phoenix straighten his back in suspense. Aside from his excessive drinking habits, he was sober and awake, acute to the act playing in front of him through and through.
Cutting the overgrowing tension first, Kristoph spoke in a sotto voice. “Let me apologise again for letting Phoenix hide the fact for so long. I needed to sort out some legal matters first before we shared the news with the world.” Emplacing his scarred hand over Phoenix’s thigh, he observed behind burnished spectacles, smiling ever so softly as he continued. “I hope you forgive us for being so out of touch these past months.”
Phoenix recoiled under the continuous caresses from his husband. Franziska perceived the way Phoenix uncomfortably shifted on the couch, but she didn’t comment; maybe he preferred to enjoy the libidinous touches behind closed doors.
Apparently, Miles didn’t share spare sentiments as he spoke with a bite, unleashing his accusations which were hidden deep inside his mind. “Huh… that’s odd. I always thought a happy couple would announce their happiest moment to the rest of the world, not seal it away.”
Franziska fixed her brother with a look of disagreement. Miles Edgeworth… Don’t . She mouthed, scrutinising the young magician who gripped onto the couch in aweary.
“Well, we don’t have to be like the other couples, do we now?” Kristoph's smile curled maliciously, his eyes lowered with a piercing stare while fixing his spectacles over his nose. “Jealousy won’t get you anywhere in life, dear prosecutor.”
Miles jerked up, glaring at Kristoph. “What do you–”
Interrupting, Kristoph spoke with pretence, showing his pity. “I understand, you had a history when you were young and naive , but it’s too late to even try to salvage anything. He belongs to another man now.”
“You…” Miles’ nose flared up, his fists clenching hard. Nails drew blood as they dug into his skin. “You better-“
“No, I won’t.” Kristoph vigorously spat with malice. “Who are you to declare my relationship with my husband as unbefitting? You’re just friends who barely know anything about each other.”
Phoenix perked up, placing his glass over the table. “ Kris , they aren’t here to judge us.” He glimpsed at Miles. “Edgeworth has his doubts about the whole situation, and I understand where he comes from, but there is no need for you to be so hostile towards him.”
“Oh no...” Miles undressed his long maroon coat, throwing it aside, and folded his white sleeves under perplexed stares of sapphire, turquoise, brown citrine and blue glazed ocean. “These aren’t doubts. They’re facts, Wright .”
All of the sudden, Miles lunged towards Kristoph, punching his pristine face with his right hook. His glasses knocked to the ground as Trucy and Franziska let out a gasp. Blood spattered onto Phoenix’s astonished face and hell broke loose within the uncoordinated milliseconds that followed.
“ You bastard! ” Miles howled, tugging Kristoph by his curls to make him wince in pain while stumbling forwards. “I know what you have done to him!” He connected his fist to Kristoph’s face once again, hearing sickening cracks of bones and tissue.
He broke Kristoph’s nose with one mighty punch, and as he tried to launch another powerful attack again, Miles found himself knocking the table to the side. Cups shattered upon falling to the ground, scattering across the now tainted rug. Miles dropped to the floor after Kristoph mowed him down with all his weight. The blonde sat atop the other and tore at his face, with hot, fresh blood dripping onto Miles’s visage.
“How dare you?!” Kristoph thundered, punching Miles’ face with his manicured hands. “I won’t let you get away with this!”
Franziska blinked, shaking off the startlement from her system and forced her legs to move. “Both of you, get off each other NOW !” She screamed, running towards the two raging men to break them off each other as they continued to land punches without care.
On the side, Phoenix rushed to Trucy, hiding her in his arms to shush his crying daughter. Phoenix’s eyes locked on Kristoph’s as he was pushed to the side by Franziska, but then Miles abruptly leapt, grabbing the lapels of Kristoph’s lavender suit with solid, clenched hands. “I won’t let you destroy his life any longer! Do you hear me?!” Miles roared, his head rushed to bump Kristoph’s with a loud thud, throwing him to the nearest wall while shaking a nearby painted canvas so much that it toppled. “I’ll show you… I'll show you what it means to mess with Phoenix Wright's life in front of me!!!”
“Miles FUCKING Edgeworth, let this man go and stop this tomfoolery!!” Yelling at her brother, Franziska wrapped her hands around Miles’ left arm, trying to unhook his shaking fists from tearing at the man’s lapel any further. “ Please , you’re scaring Trucy!”
Miles’ grip loosened up as he regained his senses, hearing Trucy’s sobs whilst her dad shushed her, whispering words of reassurance while staring at them with hollow mismatched brown and blue. Sluggishly, he backed out, hot blood seeping through his nose and a cut near his bruised lips. Numbness made him shiver as adrenaline still had a hold on him.
“I–I–” He stumbled over his words while shame drowned him, lowering his head to hide his face underneath his ashen, dishevelled hair.
Franziska’s nose flared, her brows knitted and a frown resurfaced on her face. “I don’t believe you for a second.” She waved her finger around, shoving it near the distressed pale man. “You were getting better at handling your emotions! What the fuck happened ?”
A long pause settled before Miles opened his quivered lips. “I d-don’t k-know.” He placed his hand over his nose, trying to feel if it was broken or damaged by the fight.
“Goddammit, Miles, you assaulted a man in his own house! You know what he can do, you’re both working in the same field!” She snarled, glaring deeply into his watery, grey eyes. “I can’t even side with you this time, you’ve gone too f–”
Amid their argument, their sights were blocked by a darkened grey jacket. A splatter of crimson flew over Miles and Franziska with glittering sprinkles of small glass. Grape juice and blood dumped their hair and clothes and the rich smell of the vino overtook the flowery aroma of the suite.
A chilling scream erupted from the young Trucy as a pair of icy glazed oceans through golden locks widened in panic upon seeing the raven-haired man in the middle of his premeditated attack. The blue beanie changed colours to shades of darkened red, the pink glued ‘PaPa’ disappearing between the dominating hot and cold liquids.
Long seconds passed as the ex-attorney meekly touched the oozing wound in his head, which flooded his face with scarlet cataracts. When fondling around his injury, his knees gave out, falling to the ground with a thud. His daughter sprinted towards him in terror, wrapping him in her arms whilst weeping and trembling over the sight of her crumbling, agonized father.
“Shh… Truce, I’m fine...” Phoenix murmured, mustering a yelp as he tried to take off his bloodied beanie.
“Wright…” Finally realising what transpired, Miles laid on his knees next to the pained piano player, uttering with horror. “Are you-?” Cut off by a small nod from Phoenix, Miles cursed loudly, his hand clumsily shuffled whilst he wiped the darkening scarlet from his face. His free hand picked out the pieces of broken glass inserted in the left side of Phoenix’s skin.
While she ignored the ashen visage of her brother, appearing so lost, Franziska pushed aside Miles lightly and whispered in irritation. “You aren’t in any state to help out, let me handle this.” Her brother only eyed her, despair lustred in his grey irises. He bit his lip, probably sealing a sob behind his sharp teeth.
Tracing her eyes to Phoenix, Franziska steadied the fumbled man with solid strength, instructing the heavily injured man with clearance. “Sit down, you’re exhausting yourself.”
He hardly obeyed her commanding instruction. He leaned part of his body over the couch, his partly lidded eyes narrowing until they almost closed. A solid shake of his shoulder from Franziska snapped his eyes open in distress. “Do NOT sleep, you hear me, Phoenix Wright?!” Franziska hissed without realising that she dropped Gavin out of Phoenix’s full name.
She peered at the shivering young girl, “Trucy Wright! ” Franziska snapped her fingers, startling the young girl away from her father. “Do NOT let your father sleep! I’ll call the ambulance.” Repeated nods and sniffles were all that Trucy responded with as she slid back to her dad. “Untie your neckerchief, fold it and press the wound with it. Apply slight pressure, alright?” Each commandment was met with an excellent resultant, as Trucy followed step-by-step of what Franziska demanded with brilliance.
Feeling confident to leave the Wright-Gavins alone, Franziska glowered at the stunned men, neither of them moving a metre as they held their gazes with hostility. Miles was on his knees, blood oozing from his nostrils and his cut. On the other hand, Krisoph suffered from a broken nose with cuts and bruises on his previously pristine figure. He held a shattered bottle of grape juice in his palm, shivering more the longer he held his stance.
The foolish ex-attorney needed medical attention, she noted, as her hand reached to her cell phone. Caring little about anything else, she dialled the numbers for 911 with precision yet hurry. The moment she heard the click of someone answering her call, she shouted at the operators while they asked her too many unnecessary questions that further prolonged their arrival.
After Franziska finished the call, a flash image of the scruffy detective emerged in her brain, deciding that it was a decent idea to text the detective to come and hold his fort in their bloody vicious battleground. She frantically texted the detective to come to Phoenix Wright-Gavin’s new house with utmost urgency, telling him to bring a number of police officers in case something spirals out of–
But an abrupt ‘You–!’ rang her eardrums, interrupting the rest of her sentence as she hit send instantly. Her jaw hung in total stupefaction as Miles hopped on one leg, whisking towards Kristoph with an evdient, murderous scowl that bore intent to rearrange Krisoph’s face into a blob of unrecognizable mush. Rising the broken bottle high, Kristoph drove it down, a horrendous grin surfaced to light while fully aiming to pierce the broken glass deep inside his nemesis’ body. Dodging the bottle by mere centimetres, Miles implanted his fist in Krisoph’s stomach, causing the other man to hiss in pain.
Trucy’s echoing wails. Phoenix’s hushing mumbles. Bones’ sickening cracks. Miles’ sharp pants. Krisoph’s harsh heaves.
All of it filled Franziska’s senses. The raging men were on the ground, their blood painting the wooden floor into a dark spattered crimson while panting through punches. Whimpers escaped Trucy’s lips as her head was buried deep in her father’s arm. Reassuring murmurs were told by her father, caressing her back with a bloodied palm. He weakly held his daughter’s neckerchief on his largest wound, disregarding his other unattended injuries.
Flickers of red and blue flashed from the half-drawn curtains, while sonorous sirens echoed outside the suite. Realising what was about to transpire, Franziska rushed to the window, slamming it open with all her might. She peered at the uncountable number of police vehicles, recognising the disorganised detective between the blue-suited men and women. Gathering as much air in her lungs as she could, she roared and howled, catching the attention of every person outside the building.
Looks of curiosity, astonishment, and determination were thrown at her as she closed the window behind her with haste. Franziska sluggishly moved her legs to the couch, where Phoenix and Trucy rested on, and threw herself next to the bloodied man. She gazed at the exhausted brother of hers with watery eyes, a burning sensation inflamed behind her eyes while she shut their lids. Hammering steps of police men were heard as they hastened towards the suite.
What a nightmare, Franziska thought as the door shook with the loud knocks, handling this as nicely and delicately as possible, huh? That failed miserably. The door broke with a strong kick from one cop, allowing the rest to enter the scene with their guns drawn.
A lot of explaining must be done to overcome the disaster that just occured, but for that moment, Franziska simply settled down, staring into the Wright-Gavin’s stained picture as the medics hurried to help. One thing lingered in her mind while she was examined by a medic: jealousy was a monstrous emotion, and seeing her brother act like a beast for the first time gave her the right conclusion about her hideous assumptions.
Never be like them, Franziska von Karma. Pushing the medic aside, Franziska rose to her feet, gazing at Trucy with hidden pity. Never.
The End(?)