( No Title )
In Justice We Trust (25410 words) by thesavagesabretooth
With Simon Blackquill and Athena Cykes assigned as their psychologists, the Phantom and Fulbright must grapple with their identity, their deeds, their future, and their love for the twisted samurai whom they betrayed.
All the while, Edgeworth and Wright find their relationship tested as they walk the narrow path between pursuing real justice, and the dark age of the law.
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December 22, 10:11 am
Phoenix leaned on Miles’ desk, and waited for the other man to hand him a cup of coffee.
“We have got to stop meeting like this,” Phoenix drawled. His pensive expression curled into a smile. “You’re going to spoil me if we see each other every day.”
“Very funny, Phoenix.” Miles pressed the hot mug into his hands and then picked up his own. “Have you been well?”
Phoenix sipped his coffee. “I could swear we already had this small-talk outside the judge’s office an hour ago.”
They had. Phoenix had been up bright and early to represent Aura Blackquill for her plea deal. He and Miles had talked about it. Given the circumstances– how her actions had freed an innocent man and brought a guilty one to justice– she was getting a minimum sentence of eight months, assuming good behavior.
“What you don’t want to talk to me, Phoenix, I’m hurt.” Miles casually fluffed the ruffles of his cravat.
“You know what, you’re right. I could talk about the weather all day. Feel that December LA sunshine.” He grinned over the top of his mug.
It was cloudy out. He couldn’t help getting a rise out of MIles.
“Alright, if you prefer, we can get right to business.” Miles huffed, and Phoenix grinned.
“Unless you’d rather we do something else in your office,” he wiggled his eyebrows at Miles and took another sip of his coffee.
Miles grimaced, turning bright red at the suggestion. He coughed into his hand.
“Not today, Phoenix. Or at least, not until I can be done with this business.”
“Hey you were the one who started the small talk,” Phoenix teased. “Please, go on.”
“Very well,” he sighed, lacing his fingers together. “Alright, first I have Athena Cykes and Simon Blackquill starting their patient’s therapy sessions this morning.”
“You know, I figured you might when Athena didn’t show up to the office usual time.” He slid his hands into his pockets leaning against the desk. He’d have to do something to cheer Athena up whens he got back, because she was sure to be even more fucked up about this whole thing than he was. To say nothing of Blackquill– at least the prosecutor wasn’t his employee.
“Quite,” Miles nodded. “Meanwhile, he was interrogated repeatedly last night, and did give us what appears to be a crucial lead in breaking the case.”
“You’re kidding.” Phoenix crossed his arms. “And here I thought the whole thing was going to be a waste of time.”
“Hardly. Thanks to him, we’re currently in pursuit of another one of their agents. Interpol was watching Bobby Fulbright’s apartment last night, and a man arrived at 1 o’clock in the morning and entered by the second story window.”
Phoenix whistled. “Seriously? Like a spy movie.”
“Like a spy movie,” Miles agreed. “Thankfully, our men had already removed everything of use that we were able to find. After the spy left, Interpol followed him to the airport, while the bomb squad did a second sweep of Fulbright’s apartment.”
“A second sweep?”
“Yes the first one was before we entered,” he nodded. “At that time they found nothing, but as Interpol was following the agent to the airport they found two time bombs had been placed.”
“Shit– tell me they disarmed them safely?” Phoenix felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.
“They did, and thankfully. "Fulbright’ was living in a rather packed apartment complex. Had those bombs gone off there could have been… significant casualties.”
“Lady justice,” Phoenix murmured, shaking his head. “Ruthless doesn’t even begin to cover it.”
“No,” Miles agreed. “Unfeeling does. Malicious, even.”
“Yeah,” he breathed. “So, they followed this guy to the airport, what then?”
“He purchased tickets for a 14 hour non-stop flight from LA to the nation of Cauli which took off at 3am this morning, and will land at at 5pm our time this evening. We have an agent on the plane, and Interpol has activated another agent already in the region to be watching the airport when he arrives. We’re hoping that one of the handlers that Fulbright described will be there to meet him.”
“Shit, yeah?” Phoenix watched with fascination as Miles spoke about the intrigue. “And you’re basically in charge of this whole operation, right?”
“In cooperation with Interpol, obviously, but they have been taking my advice.”
“You’ve got a pretty good head for espionage, Miles. I never would have guessed.”
Miles had looked pleased at the complement for a moment, but then choked at the end, and pressed his hand to his chest. “I– Wright– you never would have guessed?”
Phoenix leaned over the desk toward him.
“Yeah you know on account of all those cases you lost.”
“How dare you!”
Phoenix reached across and grabbed Miles’ cravat. “Plane doesn’t land until five, right? So you have some time now that I’m all updated.”
He pulled the protesting prosecutor into a kiss.
December 22, 10:45 am
Bobby stared at the door as it closed behind Simon and Athena, and he was once again left alone in the silence with No-one.
That could have gone a lot better.
“It could have gone a lot worse, too,” No-one answered inside their shared mind.
“You’re kidding. How do you figure?"
"Simon could easily have attacked and killed us here in our bed,” No-one shrugged. “I’m pretty sure that he was barely holding himself back from it.”
Bobby paled internally. “No, he wouldn’t… it’s dishonorable to kill a may who’s laying in a hospital bed.”
“I wonder if he cares enough about honor for it to make a difference. I certainly wouldn’t know. But you managed to confuse him. So that’s something.”
“Confuse him? Why’s that a good thing though? I don’t want to confuse him, it makes him angry!” Bobby felt a rising panic that No-one had been right, and speaking as himself and trying to apologize to both of them had only made things worse.
“Because he won’t make a decision when he’s confused, Fulbright. Use one of my brain cells for just a moment.”
Bobby felt No-one taking control of their expression again, and he was pushed back further into the darkness. As he lingered there, he considered No-one’s thoughts. He supposed he was right, if Simon didn’t know what was happening, he wouldn’t jump to conclusions.
“Maybe you’re right. But… it hurt to have him and Athena looking at me like that. I’m not looking for forgiveness… but it still hurt.” It hurt enough to make him want to cry. It hurt not to be able to smooth Simon’s shaggy hair and tell him it would be alright, like he used to. It hurt to be the monster at the source of Simon’s hatred and fear.
“I told you just to shut up and let me talk.”
“But I wanted…” Fulbright had wanted so much. He wanted to make it right. There was nothing he could do to make it right.
“You should just forget about it,” No-one hissed impatiently. “Go away. Disappear. Fade into my numbness. Because if you stay, Fulbright, then you’re going to have to get used to them looking at you with contempt. Is living worth that?”
Finally, a question he could really answer.
He laughed his old laugh, and it came out of their mouth, and was probably picked up by whatever monitoring system that the chief prosecutor had in place.
“How can you ask me that when you say the answer is ‘yes’ every day that you get up? Even after all you’ve been through?”
No-one went silent.
Bobby lay back in the bed. Whatever kind of life they were going to face, whatever hatred and contempt the people he cared about might have for him, Bobby was going to keep facing it with determination, and trying to put right the things that he and the other had done wrong.
December 22, 11:30 am
Simon was much more familiar with the visiting practices at the detention center than he was with those at the prison. He stood outside the glass window, and waited for his sister to appear.
It was a bad idea to visit her now, with his head full of confused, roiling emotions, but it would be a worse idea not to visit her today at all.
The guard opened the door, and he saw his sister shuffle with chained feet towards the window with a disdainful snarl at the guard before she dropped herself into the chair opposite him, on the other side of the glass.
She looked terrible. Her eyes were bloodshot and the flesh around them bruised under the large glass lenses they still let her wear, her hair was down and dark and curling as his was when it wasn’t neatly pinned up like usual.
She smiled grimly at him. “Well, well. Looks like the tables turned, little brother.”
“So it would seem,” he agreed. At least Aura, unlike Athena, couldn’t read his emotions like the pages of a book, especially with the glass between them. “Have you been treated civilly?”
“Oh it’s been great. Five Star accommodations, really. They really spoil us here. Couldn’t ask for better confinement.” Her shoulders shook in a sharp laugh. She crossed her arms on the small desk in front of her. “how about you? Enjoying the hard won freedom? You’re welcome, by the by.”
"I never asked you to do it. In fact, I asked you not to,” he reminded her. “It would be wrong of me to thank you for it. For breaking the law and threatening people’s lives. But still. I suppose I’m a little grateful."
He inclined his head toward her respectfully. She knew his way. They knew each other well.
It was true though. He was only a little grateful. Especially right now, as he thought about how much simpler the world would have been in other circumstances. Worse circumstances, perhaps. But simpler.
She glanced to the side, waving her hand dismissively in the air as if searching for something that wasn’t there. Clonco perhaps.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” she grumbled low under her breath. “well the alternative was you’d get your ass killed for something you…or even the little princess… clearly didn’t do…so I’ll take the gratitude, but I won’t say sorry.”
She shrugged her narrow shoulders “…I’d have done worse if it didn’t work. Not like I have a lot to live for outside you, anymore.”
"You’re ridiculous, Aura,” he sighed. “When you’re out, we’ll see to it that that changes. Your life, obviously. I’m never going to stop you from being ridiculous. Is there anything that I can do for you in the meantime?”
Aura snorted through her nose, an almost amused smile on her face.
“I’d like to see you try, though I guess being a stubborn pain in the ass is a family trait.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder, glancing at the guard “..I dunno. Maybe.”
“Perhaps some business at the space center that needs to be concluded?” he asked, leadingly. “Or– despite your claims of having nothing to live for– friends to contact?”
Aura stared at him through the glass with a rueful smile.
“You know, turnabout says I be obstinate here and absolutely refuse anything and everything so I may nobly suffer in your stead.” She leaned on her arms “should I do that, or tell you the truth?”
He leaned on his hand in a mirrored gesture of hers, and smiled a thin smile back at her.
“Well, I happened to speak to the chief prosecutor yesterday and he thinks you’ll only be suffering nobly for about eight months or so, so I suppose it’s your choice of how complicated you’d like to make things for yourself in the near future.”
“Ah, and here I thought Wright would try to convince his foppish little boyfriend to give me death for threatening his dear wittle daughter.”
A sly and knowing smirk crossed her face “…I want Ponco and Clonco back, and I want what’s left of the robotics lab packed up and safe from the director and his greedy little hands. All of it. Every little memento and screw. That lab is MINE and Metis’. Not his. So ensure it finds it’s way into safe storage until I can grab it again.”
Even as she rattled off demands, he could see the way she shook. “As for friends. Hah, you think I had time for those? Contact Tyrell Badd and Apollo Justice for me…I’d say ‘Tyrell’s charming lady friend’ but she vanished without a trace after pulling a gun on the dear Chief Prosecutor, so…”
Simon nodded.
“I’ll see what I can do about the robotics lab,” he nodded. “I should be able to have it taken care of for you. Apollo Justice hasn’t come to see you yet? Well– I suppose he’s been busy.”
“Ah, but our connection may have been fleeting,” she put her hand dramatically to her chest “after I took his dear Trucy hostage.”
She laughed, slapping her hand down on the small desk, her smile just a little too wide and forced “…just kidding. I imagine he’s still in grieving. He’ll likely visit soon enough…Oh ah. Two more things.”
Simon huffed half a laugh with her. Being around his sister almost cheered him up. At the very least, it was easier to push his immediate thoughts away.
“Yes, Aura?”
“First, and I DO Hate doing this, …tell the little princess I’m sorry for accusing her for all these years. I doubt she’ll want to talk to me for a while, but I want her to know that.” She grimaced, before the expression turned to one of clear rage “second, make sure you deliver to me any news articles about the fate of Metis’ true killer. That damned ‘phantom’. I saw him go down through Clonco, but I want to be certain to follow up on this. Understood?”
Simon grimaced. So much for being able to push the thoughts away.The lie of a paper had come out that morning. He hadn’t seen it for himself yet, but that was what the chief prosecutor had said would happen, and Simon had no reason to doubt him.
“Ah. Of course,” he murmured. The weight of implicitly lying to her was heavy, but it wasn’t as though he didn’t have practice with it. “I believe there was an article this morning. I haven’t had a moment to look, however.”
He saw Aura’s fingers clench against the short desk on her side of the glass.
“Well, well. And what’s the verdict? Is he going to hang for killing Metis and Clay? Did he survive the sniper?”
“Would you like me to go find out and bring that paper back for you? There’s a news stand right outside the detention center.” Simon felt his heart in his stomach, but he didn’t show it on his cold face.
“Fine, I’ll be waiting right here.”
A few minutes later, Simon was staring dead eyed at the front page article. There was a photo of the moment of the shooting– the phantom’s body framed half in moonlight and half in shadow.
The article, of course, claimed that he was dead. Simon wondered if perhaps his own execution had gone through as planned, and he was living in some kind of ironic punishment hell.
He held the paper up for Aura.
Aura’s eyes narrowed on the paper and he saw the rage burn all the hotter inside her as she slammed her fist into the glass with enough force to send the guard jumping behind her.
“So the phantom’s a real ghost now, is he?” her smile turned jagged, twitching at the corner as her fist hit the glass again.
“Maybe it’s time I start believing in Justitia…she’s the only one who can ensure he suffers now.”
December 22, 1:00 pm
Simon walked into his hotel room and let himself tip face forward onto the fresh linens of the made bed. He groaned, and buried his head in the pillows.
There was a squawk, and the fluttering of wings, and he felt the great weight and talons of Taka land on his back.
“Hello, Taka,” he grumbled into his pillows.
Taka leaned down and started grooming Simon’s ponytail with his beak, as if it were his feathers. Simon sighed a shuddering sigh, and let him do it.
Even Taka could see how upset he was. It had been the right call to send Athena away for a while. She might have started asking him questions.
Questions like why he’d gotten so upset when the subject of the phantom’s past had come up. Or why he’d been so upset by the seemingly confused identity of the Phantom and Bobby Fulbright.
Simon didn’t want to think about what the Phantom’s past might have been like. He didn’t want to imagine that some series of events had turned him into an emotionless killer and betrayer. He didn’t want to imagine a person underneath the mask who had been slowly stripped away.
No, no, let him keep his first assumption. Of a deranged, coldblooded killer who had gone into spycraft to fuel his bloodlust in between sipping martinis on the beach.
It was easier to hate a man who went off and sipped martinis on the beach after his jobs, than it was to hate whatever it was that ‘obedient’ implied.
Simon wanted to stop his mind from thinking of the possibilities of that statement. But still it kept going.
He didn’t want to grapple with the idea that living as Bobby Fulbright had been the happiest that man had ever been.
That man was Metis Cykes killer! He killed Simon’s mentor in cold blood! He killed Apollo Justice’s innocent friend.
He killed the real Bobby Fulbright!
It had to all be an act. It had to all be a twisted manipulation.
Because if it wasn’t, then Simon might have to ask himself if any of it had been real. If any of the stolen kisses, the half breathed, half murmured declarations of affection– if any of it had been real.
It couldn’t have been. It couldn’t have been real.
The phantom was an emotionless monster, and Bobby Fulbright had been dead for a year.
That was the way it was. There was never any real person behind the amber sunglasses and wide smile who had loved him.
That was why Simon didn’t have to worry about having fallen in love with his mentor’s killer.
It wasn’t real. It was all just a lie.
Simon shuddered under Taka’s avian tenderness, and the hotel pillow was stained with the samurai’s bitter tears.
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