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Phoenix had been here before. Not in this exact situation, but here, at this place. This house. It seemed his subconscious had chosen to isolate this one from the rest, as anything around or beyond it was blurred away in a soft white glow. The grass looked soft, the tree in the front that held up the old tire swing swayed gently with no breeze at all. None of the lights were on inside. The three golden-bronze numbers on the house had been polished ‘til they glowed, too.
Of course he’d been here before. He’d grown up there. This had been his house.
The chair on the porch was occupied, and Phoenix felt obligated to fill the space on the swing-bench next to it. He walked up the driveway silently, up the stairs, and took a seat. The chains still squeaked when he sat down. His mom really had never gotten around to oiling them.
The man beside him had steel gray eyes, black glasses, and hair just a bit more on the brown side than his son’s. Phoenix had met him before, too.
“Phoenix Wright,” said Gregory Edgeworth. Phoenix nodded.
“Hi,” he replied. He felt light. Calm. A moment passed by in not uncomfortable silence. “This is real, isn’t it?” Gregory raised an eyebrow, one corner of his mouth quirking upwards in a way Phoenix had seen many, many times on a different face.
“N-Not this,” Phoenix corrected, gesturing vaguely to the scenery around them, “this is all a dream! Probably. Um, but uh, you..?” Gregory chuckled.
“I suppose,” he replied. “At the very least, my will here is real.” He smiled gently, and above all else, he looked sad. Phoenix didn’t know what to say. Gregory sighed.
“I am so very glad,” he continued after another pause. “That you… exist, Phoenix.” And how in the world was he supposed to respond to that? He opened and closed his mouth, trying to find anything to say and coming up empty handed. “You don’t need to say anything, just listen, please.”
“... I think the worst part of dying wasn’t the dying. I think it was realizing that I wouldn’t be able to be there for all of the things I was supposed to be there for. So many achievements I didn’t get to watch, so many more birthdays than nine, graduations, and--”
“The wedding,” Phoenix finished without meaning to. Gregory’s sad smile widened even more.
“The wedding,” he repeated quietly. A tear slipped down his face. “Phoenix, I--”
“I love him,” he interrupted first. “In case it wasn’t clear. And I love him more than anything, except maybe my daughter. I think I love them both the same. And I don’t--” his voice broke for a second, “--want you to think that you couldn’t be enough. Because not a day goes by that he doesn’t think of you, and he loves you so much and he never stopped. Okay?”
Gregory only blinked at him. Phoenix stared back, determined. And then the other man laughed. And cried, but more importantly he laughed. He had a laugh that sounded just like his son’s. He leaned forward in his chair, elbows on his knees as he pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes, pushing his glasses askew.
“I think you’re some sort of miracle, disguised as a man,” said Gregory eventually, grinning. “I don’t think you even know. I’ve seen some of the crazy things you’ve done.”
“I’ve done quite a few crazy things, yeah,” Phoenix chuckled softly. “The parrot. People’ve never let me live that one down.”
“Yes, that one was most certainly interesting.” Comfortable silence overtook Phoenix’s childhood home. He looked out into the yard and could almost-- almost hear the laughter of two children who hadn’t yet learned that sometimes, life was cruel, and one who would in a matter of weeks.
“I’m terrified that he thinks I’d be disappointed in him.”
“What? Why? Because of--”
“You’ve met Fender.” He had in fact met Fender, yes. Both grooms had walked down the aisle, and it was Fender who… “Fender hated him for years, because of von Karma. You know, when they met again after so many years, he told him that I would’ve hated him.” Phoenix gaped at the other man.
“He was hurt, and angry, and I understand that but it was… It broke my heart. Of course, he’s over it now, obviously. My boy never held it against him, but that’s what bothers me.”
“You’re worried he believed it?”
“I’m almost certain he did. And as I’ve already said, I’m terrified he might still.” He glanced at Phoenix, and he looked so tired. “I was never disappointed. I was sad, devastated even. Concerned, angry, but it wasn’t his fault. I’ve never resented my son. Only von Karma. Always von Karma.”
“...If you know all that, then you know about the note?” Gregory nodded.
“If you’re referring to the suicide note, then yes. I do.”
“I don’t think anyone ever blamed me-- or Franziska, or even Gumshoe and Maya-- for being upset about that incident. And to be honest, I was furious. I probably would’ve said even worse things than I did then if I hadn’t had slightly bigger problems to worry about at the time… But I understood. Still more than a little pissed off, but I understood. And I did say some pretty horrible things that I regret, a lot.” It would’ve been better for everyone if you had never come back from the dead… yeah, he probably could’ve picked something better to say at the time…
Phoenix took a deep breath before continuing. “You do know why all that happened, right?”
“...Yes.”
“Then you know, right? The purpose of that little stunt, where it brought him, what it brought him, all of that?”
“Yes, I do.”
Phoenix smiled. “He’s so strong,” he said quietly, not quite a whisper. “It’s amazing. Sure, mistakes were made. Big mistakes. But I’ve eaten glass and metal and trace amounts of poison for a woman I quite literally did not know, so I think I get to say that we all make big mistakes. I can’t say that I know for sure, because I don’t, but I think that a big part of that whole soul-searching journey was to make peace with… you.”
“M-- What?”
“I think part of it was an apology,” Phoenix explained. “Y’know, ‘sorry for accidentally letting the guy who murdered you corrupt my mind with his evil ideology, I was an emotionally distressed nine year old and I made a pretty rash long-term decision’ type thing.” For not the first time during this meeting, Gregory Edgeworth merely stared. “...Or something?”
“He meant it when he wrote it. When he wrote that note, he really had meant to die. It hurt so much to watch. But as you say. He really is so, so strong.” Gregory laughed again, softly. “And I am so, so proud of him… won’t you please let him know that for me?”
Gregory’s eyes filled with fondness as he gazed at Phoenix from the rickety old porch chair of his childhood home.
“Of course,” Phoenix whispered. Gregory grinned.
“And before I go… I am just as proud of you, too. I think you’re the greatest son-in-law a man could have.”
●・○・●・○・●
The sunlight painted the room gold. The sheer white curtains framed the open window, floating lazily in the breeze. Bird song added to the ambiance, gentle and innocent. Really, it was like a scene out of a movie. All of it brought together by the figure next to Phoenix.
The sun turned his silver hair a warmer tone, and the comforter resembled a cloud. He looked like an angel. Fast asleep, with his back to Phoenix, was his perfect, beautiful husband.
Phoenix’s eyes were wet. He smiled at Miles, Gregory’s words echoing in his ears for a few moments more. Phoenix closed the distance and wrapped his arms around his partner, pressing his nose into the fabric of the black t-shirt he was wearing. He still smelled like the lilies Franziska had chosen for the flower arrangements. And a little like brandy, too. Miles shifted slightly and Phoenix hummed.
“I’m so glad you’re mine,” he whispered, barely audible. Then he drifted back to sleep, with Gregory’s smile replaying behind his eyes.