Chapter Text
"OBJECTION! Tsk, tsk, Wright. If the groundskeeper hadn't even noticed the body while trimming the azaleas, how could it possibly be insinuated that she was the murderer?"
Miles Edgeworth tapped a finger against his temple, tutting disapprovingly. It had been so long since his courtroom battles against Wright, but now that the man had been reinstated, he could once gain revel in the thrill of the fight against a man his equal.
Across the courtroom, Phoenix Wright gave him that triumphant grin, mismatched eyes sparkling as he slammed his hands on the defense's bench.
"Nice try, Edgeworth. But you're forgetting that Mrs. Peabody was once an expert marksman. I'm sure you've heard of ballistic markings, haven't you? The ballistic markings on the bullet found lodged in the victim's chest match the pistol buried under the rafflesia. It's simple to assume Mrs. Peabody buried the gun under a foul-smelling flower that nobody would want to approach!"
Edgeworth chuckled. "Foiled again, it seems. Well played, Wright."
Phoenix gave him a subtle wink.
The frail old woman on the stand gave a wild shriek, dropping the flowerpot she had been clutching to her chest. "You fools! Don't you understand, that greenhouse was meant to be mine! Dee Ceized had no right to give it away to the butler for years of sitting on his arse!"
Edgeworth raised a slender eyebrow. "I estimate you will be the one in that position once this sentence is carried out."
Phoenix gave a muffled snort from across the room.
Miles gave a small smile. Time had softened him into the truth-seeking, kind man that he was today. If he couldn't crack a joke at his partner's expense when he was ensured a victory, what kind of man would he be?
Mrs. Peabody sneered. "At least I'll be alive." She shoved a withered hand with surprising swiftness into her coat pocket, pulling out a small revolver.
BANG.
Time seemed to slow down as Phoenix staggered backward, his hands pressed to his abdomen as he feels a wrenching pain in his gut. It hurts like hell as he feels the bullet beeline through his body, piercing organs and muscle as it plots a swift course out of him. As quickly as it had entered, the tiny, deadly bit of metal exits his body with a splatter of blood, bouncing off the wall before landing on the floor and rolling somewhere near the courtroom doors. His knees buckle beneath him and he collapses, creating a bloody smear down the wall as he slides to the floor.
He looks up to see Miles, the expression on his face hurting far more than the gaping hole in his stomach, the memories of DL-6 flashing through his face in less than a millisecond before he's running towards Phoenix, the anguish in his cry making Phoenix reach out for him.
"WRIGHT! PHOENIX!"
Phoenix can hardly hear anything over the heaviness of his own breaths, the feeling of Edgeworth's trembling hands pressing his jacket hard onto the wound blocking out all the screams on the jury stand.
Phoenix coughs, blood trickling down his mouth to join the pool slowly forming around him. "Miles..."
Miles looks at him, trying to maintain a stern expression while tears are rolling down his cheeks. "Don't talk, Phoenix. Just breathe. An ambulance will be here momentarily."
Phoenix presses a bloody hand to Miles' face, smiling gently. "I love you," he whispers, before his eyes flutter closed as he sinks into unconsciousness.
"Phoenix?! Stay with me, Wright! Wake up! WAKE UP!"
Miles' yells turn into choked sobs as he holds the unconscious body of his boyfriend close to his own, rocking gently until the doors open with a slam and the paramedics swarm around him.
He almost yells at them to leave him alone, that this is the love of his life they are taking from him, before logic settles in and he moves away from Phoenix, knowing that they will be far more helpful than him in the long run. He watches silently as they wheel Wright away to the back of the ambulance, shutting the doors with a loud clang before the siren starts up and it speeds away down the road.
Mrs. Peabody is cackling, her laughter sickly and piercing through the fog in Miles' brain. He turns to her, eyes blazing, full of the wrath and cold promise of justice that only the Demon Prosecutor himself could muster.
"Take her away," he seethes, relishing for a moment in the fear in Peabody's eyes as the bailiffs march her out of the courtroom.
A cold river of shock streams down his spine at the thought of Trucy. Oh, god, what will happen to her if...if Wright...
No. Wright has survived far worse than a simple gunshot. If any man could make it through this, he could. However, if worst came to worst, he would certainly be the one to take Trucy in. He would owe Wright that much, at least.
He clutches himself for a moment, the reverberating silence of the courtroom and the slowly congealing blood doing little to calm his nerves. A hand falls on his shoulder, and he jumps.
"Sir, I, uh, I understand this is very difficult right now, but I'm gonna need you to come and take a look at this."
Miles stands, the professionalism of duty washing away his anguish for the time being. "Lead the way, Richard."
Gumshoe's eyes widen slightly at the use of his first name, but he makes no further comments as he waves over the bailiff. "It turns out that Mrs. Peabody did have this 9 mm revolver, but it was never fired. The bullet entered from a completely different angle and the ballistic markings aren't consistent with this type of gun. We've got a completely different attempted murder suspect on our hands."
Mrs. Peabody gives a light chuckle from where she stands restrained at the double doors, directing Miles' attention to her gleeful expression.
"If you have something to declare, Mrs. Peabody, then I highly suggest you speak now before any chances of parole are wiped from your record."
Mrs. Peabody's grin shifts into a sour smile. "He came through for me. My little brother always will. In case I lost, he was meant to get a hitman over here and take care of Wright himself."
Miles glares at her, drawing himself to his full height, glasses glinting in the sunlight streaming in from the courtroom windows. "If you don't reveal the identity of this man, Mrs. Peabody, I assure you that I will do everything in my power to ensure you get the harshest of sentences."
Mrs. Peabody smiles with an eerie calmness. "Oh, you can try, but Brother has his ways. Shelly always has his ways."
Miles' blood ran cold. "Shelly?"
Mrs. Peabody leered at him with a toothless grin. "You know the name, don't you? Shelly de Killer."
Miles gaped at her for a moment before crossing his arms in steely determination. "Just because he has escaped my clutches twice does not mean he will have the satisfaction of doing so again. I intend on using every resource to end this man's unsavory business practices, and that begins NOW."
He whips out his cell phone. "Blackquill? Yes, it's Edgeworth. I don't know what condition Wright is in, but I need you to assemble the Prosecutor's Office and as many members of the Wright Anything Agency as you can procure. We have a duty to justice."
He hangs up, smiling at Mrs. Peabody with the barely disguised smugness of a man who knows he has obliterated his opponent. "I'll be taking my leave, Mrs. Peabody. I believe I must see to my partner's condition, as well as tracking down the one who caused it. Thank you for your cooperation."
He sweeps out of the courtroom with gritted teeth, hoping that, somehow, Wright would make another miraculous turnabout.