1 Bullet For My Valentine

Update March 22, 2017: Fredgeworth is my second OTP only to Phaya, and I’ve always wanted to give their tale more depth, with a stronger introduction that wasn’t commencing as an exposition rehash of video game background we all know. So I rewrote chapter one – the rest of the story is unchanged.

I hope old readers of the story will like my efforts of a freshly redone first chapter, and that perhaps new readers will be curious to read the love story of The Perfect Prosecutors! 🙂

Last but not least, I also wanted to dedicate this story not only to top Miles Edgeworth lover and talented writer, 6GunSally but to my sister from another mister, loyal FF reader, and writer, Ilet Moratar, who is THE biggest Fredgeworth lover I know! Besos, mi hermana dulce!

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A/N: So here is my prequel to my first fan fiction, Not a Girl, Not Yet a Woman, and is part 2 of the Turnabout Lawful Love Trilogy.

You don’t have to have read the Phaya tale to understand Fredgeworth’s love story, so this can be read as a stand-alone story. It takes place during the Matt Engarde case in PW: Justice For All. Very slight spoilers for JFA/T&T/AA1 games.

Thanks so much to my readers and all those who have favorited, reviewed, story alerted, favorite author or author alerted me. I appreciate it more than I can say! You guys ROCK! 

Disclaimer: Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney is property of Capcom, I am not the owner of Phoenix Wright or its characters, because if I were Fredgeworth would actually be together instead of only in my imagination and writing!

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Emotional ties. Miles Edgeworth shut his eyes and tried to squelch the pang of consternation in his chest. Damn them all.

He despised hospitals. Yet wild horses couldn’t have dragged him from the ER that day.

Pragmatism would have served me far better had I maintained my former persona of the ruthless “Demon Prosecutor.” My relentless pursuit of absolute conviction was methodical, unassailable – my reputation a fortress built upon intellectual precision that cowed defendants and defense attorneys alike. And then… Phoenix Wright happened. One cannot simply “happen” to dismantle years of carefully constructed professional demeanor. He didn’t just challenge me; he unraveled me, piece by piece. Now, here I stand, once again saddled with unnecessary feelings …compassion. Empathy. Those irrational human frailties I once scorned – have infiltrated my once-impenetrable logic. How Wright managed to penetrate my meticulously crafted defenses remains a statistical improbability I have yet to fully reconcile. My reputation for cold, calculated reasoning—once my greatest strength—now seems almost a relic of a past self. The transformation is… not entirely unwelcome, though I would sooner face a tribunal than admit such a sentiment aloud.

Up until a certain impulsive, passionate hot-blooded spiky-haired mensch had saved Miles’s soul from eternal darkness, unease and uncertainty had been all he’d thought he’d ever need to contend with!

He’d known what others had whispered behind his back until Phoenix Wright had resurfaced in his life, had known his daunting previous title had included rumors of bribing judges and falsified evidence. Miles had let such imbroglios roll off him like raindrops on an oily pavement.

Weak minds spread rumors; weaker ones believe them. Hmph. Let the masses prattle on with their petty gossip—a pursuit as worthless as it is predictable. Only fools rush to pass judgment on traumas they cannot begin to comprehend. Von Karma’s… methods. Gant’s manipulations. These critics, in their infinite ignorance, would do well to store their baseless opinions where they store their logic – buried in the depths of their own hypocrisy.

He would have continued going along sweeping his emotions under a rug and attempting to remain unaffected by anything had things not all come to a head a year ago with his courtroom rival exposing the evil doings of both his corrupt former mentor and police chief. After that, Miles had left the States for some deep soul-reflection time in Europe and returned a changed man, resuming his friendship with Phoenix and no longer caring about keeping perfect prosecution records – only about seeking the truth.

That included facing the truth at long last about how he felt about her, all due to the intervening hand of fate.

Fate, in this case, had come in the form of an assassin’s bullet to a certain someone’s shoulder, dramatically changing everything as he knew it.

It was the moment that changed the course of his relationship with his foster sister, forever.

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The Hotti Clinic, March 22, 2018, 3:30 p.m.

 

Franziska had looked so small and pale and helpless as they’d wheeled her in on the gurney, and in so much agonizing pain it had nearly brought tears to his eyes to see. It was unfathomable how a tiny bullet could have taken such a toll on the normally formidable prosecutor. She was such a pillar of strength. The smartest, feistiest, toughest femme he’d ever known. He admired those traits of hers so much.

If he were to lose her now…

I may never get the chance to say the words my heart has long yearned to speak. All I can do now is pray for the opportunity to tell her – before it’s too late… 

Miles had nearly worn a groove into the hospital emergency room floor, pacing back and forth as he anxiously awaited news of his foster sister’s condition. In his hand, he clutched a letter he had written while waiting, reading it for what felt like the hundredth time.

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Dear Franziska,  

As you read this, I implore you to hear my words, for they are my soul reaching out to yours – an offering of trust and truth. 

My disappearance following the Engarde case was inexcusable. I employed investigative methodology on matters of the heart; testing variables, and requiring evidence of your response before proceeding. How utterly foolish of me. A prosecutor of my caliber should have known better than to treat human emotions as mere evidence to be cataloged. I owe you an apology, not just for the pain I caused when I vanished last year but for the cowardice that led me to test your heart instead of trusting it. 

Throughout my career, I have pursued truth with unwavering determination. Yet in matters concerning you, I demonstrated a most egregious cowardice. The irony does not escape me that it took a bullet from that deranged individual to finally shatter my carefully constructed walls of practiced indifference. 

You and I are rather alike, Franziska. We bear the same scars from our upbringing, the same drive for perfection, the same… complexity. But where others see only your sharp edges, I recognize the precise intellectual grace beneath. You wield your whip as I once wielded my logic—a shield against vulnerability. Yet you saw through my defenses as surely as I see through yours. 

I hereby submit evidence that I can no longer deny: you are the sole person who truly comprehends the weight of our shared history. The only one who could possibly understand why I became the “Demon Prosecutor,” and why I chose to abandon that path. 

In my search for justice, for truth, and myself, I have walked countless paths and opened many doors. Yet in all my endeavors, I failed to recognize the strength and devotion that you offered; the one constant which my instincts never doubted. I see now what I should have known all along: you have always been a safe haven for me.  Even when I broke, when I ran from everything and everyone, you remained the only person my heart could never fully leave behind.  

It shames me that it took a madman’s bullet to make me come to terms with what has always been inescapably true. 

Here is the truth I can no longer avoid: Mein Dame, you are the only woman I have ever truly loved. Mind, heart, and soul. 

You are the one I was born to love, to trust, to save, to nurture to full health. I see who you really are. I see right to your core and I still love you without reserve. I see a spirit caged yet strong, life surging for liberty, and boundless generosity, even at a cost to yourself.  You are my equal in spirit and strength, fierce yet tender, resilient yet vulnerable. Beneath the damage lies both an inner and outer beauty I cherish without reservation. 

I know others also possess such virtuousness within – I have witnessed it firsthand. Yet it is you, and you alone, who are my other half, my soul twin, my queen. Verily, no matter where life takes me, with whom, near or far, you shall be my anchor and my harbour. 

Thus, I place my tender heart in your hands, praying that you will protect it when the hurricanes come. I, in turn, am here to keep yours safe as well. Ergo, I will be your strength when you need it, your comfort in times of sorrow, and your partner in all that lies ahead. I will wait patiently should you ever need to wander and welcome you when you return. For the rest of my days, I shall endeavor to prove worthy of such trust; to be whatever you need me to be.   

With a heart full of love I hope you share, I now look forward to the many journeys and adventures this precious gift of life holds for us. If you will have me, I am yours – for eternity and beyond. 

From my heart to yours,
Miles

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“Mr. Edgeworth?”

Hurriedly shoving the paper into his inner suit jacket pocket, Miles raised haunted, bloodshot grey eyes and saw a kind-faced, snowy-haired doctor standing in front of him.

“I’m Doctor Weller. I’ve been the surgeon in charge of Ms. Von Karma’s case.”

“Is my sister…?” For once in his entire life, the normally articulate attorney couldn’t find the right words to form the question he was too terrified to ask.

“It was a shoulder wound, Mr. Edgeworth,” the ER doctor assured him, smiling at the worried-looking prosecutor. “Good thing you were there – you got her here just in time. We were able to successfully remove the bullet. She’s lost some blood, and we will have to keep an eye on her for a few days, but she’s been medicated and is resting comfortably. You can go see her now.”

Franziska woke up in a foggy haze to hear two pieces of news. First, the extraction of the bullet had been successful, and despite her protests, she would be kept in the hospital for observation for the next few days. Second, her hard-earned trial, her ultimate triumph over that Dummkopf, Phoenix Wright, had been taken away from her. And by none other than that traitorous fool of a Little Brother!

Neither surprised her. She had suspected as much. She was just peeved beyond belief that all her careful preparations would now go in favor of him rather than her. She felt no qualms admitting that Manfred Von Karma had been quite successful in his endeavors of pitting them against each other.

It was sibling rivalry at its best. Or at its worst, depending on how you look at it.

She glared as said fool entered her room, as refined, elegant, and, she was loathed to admit, handsome as ever, despite the slight disarray of his normally perfectly styled greyish-black hair and the faint worried crease of his well-groomed eyebrows.

“Franziska,” he murmured, looking relieved upon seeing her awaken. “How are you feeling?”

“Just fine,” she snarled, icy gray eyes flashing with sparks. Though his presence was welcome, it did little to soften her mood. “Why are you still here? You have already fulfilled your good deed for the day – rushing me here like a madman in that cramped sports car of yours. Surely you understand it is high time to leave me be so I can rest?”

“I do,” Miles agreed, frowning. “But I wanted to see you with my own two eyes, Franziska. Surely you can understand how I cannot be so heartless that I wouldn’t worry about my Big Sister, as she’s the only family I have left?”

“You always were a sentimental fool, Miles Edgeworth,” she scoffed, unwilling to show how touched she was by his words, yet how inexplicably irked she was at his reminder that he indeed saw her as his kin.

Which was ridiculous of course. What else did she want him to see her as?

Not his sister, but an actual woman mayhap? One that he had come to see for reasons other than obligatory pity?

Franziska cursed herself for her foolish train of thought and silently blamed the medication. She figured it was best to keep her words to a minimum to keep her from uttering any foolish drivel that could later be used as incriminating evidence against her.

Miles didn’t appear to be too affronted by the barb. He simply shrugged and offered her a half-smile, instead.

“Guilty as charged, I suppose. Yet, I see no reason to repent for possessing a heart – just as I wouldn’t expect you to atone for lacking one.”

The words stunned her. They stung. Unexpected tears sprang to her eyes at the onslaught, but she was too proud to let them fall.

“If you are done sharing your unsolicited speculations and observations on the presence of my vital organs,” she said coolly, turning her head away from him. “Might I suggest you leave now, so I may get my aforementioned rest?”

“Don’t you want an update on the investigation?”

“Fine.” Her voice was wooden. “Go on then.”

He then told her everything, De Killer’s calling card, Celeste Inpax’s suicide note, and the rescue team he had dispatched in search of Maya.

“The Fey girl has been kidnapped?”

Franziska ceased the listless plucking of her hospital bed blanket, which she had been doing the entire time he was speaking in order to avoid looking at him. However, her head jerked up upon hearing this last detail.

“I hope you find her alive and well, fast. We both know what a complete mess that fool-hearted Phoenix Wright is without her. He would hardly be a worthy courtroom adversary to either of us if he is even half the emotional wreck he was the last time she was out of the picture. You told me how despondent he was when she left for home last time. He must be out of his mind right now, as that fool is so madly besotted with her.”

“A fact that all parties seem to be aware of except for Wright and Miss Fey,” Miles grinned. “I will not fault Wright for his ardor, however, as I am quite fond of her myself…”

“Really?” She cut in, feeling the first irrational pangs of jealousy unfolding within her and thus hating herself. “How sweet, Little Brother. Does that fool attorney know that he has romantic competition for the fair damsel in distress’s heart?”

Miles was taken aback at the scathing pitch in her inflection. Maya was a cheeky, ever-enthusiastic spirit medium, with a contagious smile and overall cheery disposition. She was also one of the few people in his life privy to know about his secret Steel Samurai obsession, which she also shared. It was their little secret, or so he needed to believe. Alongside Phoenix, Maya had also gone to bat for him in court, even risked her life in order to secure evidence proving his innocence when he’d stood as the defendant on trial for his father’s murder. The prosecutor had never forgotten this, and it was all the more reason he’d been willing to go above and beyond all means to ensure the safe return of the irrepressible young woman his dear friend loved so desperately, a fact that everyone seemed to be well aware of, except for Maya, and even Phoenix himself.

Normally he would have let such a typical waspish, insouciant Von Karma comment slide by, unnoticed. However, one of the few good things about being back in touch with one’s feelings, he realized with wry amusement, and a slight stirring of hope was that it made you acutely aware of the latent emotions in those around him as well.

This meant the unmistakable note of jealousy he’d noted in that stormy gaze, despite the lofty tone, was palpable, not to mention encouraging.

“Whatever nonsense is this you are speaking of, Franziska?” The legist did his best to appear flummoxed at the words. “If you had allowed me to finish my sentence, what I was actually going to say was, I am quite fond of her myself, as she’s done much for me in the past. I feel that I should at least return the favor.”

“Ah yes, I remember you telling me now,” the German woman mumbled, embarrassed by her outburst. She resumed her blanket plucking so he wouldn’t see her pink cheeks. “Reckless girl, although admittedly admirable. She was present at Papa’s trial, nein? The one who secured some important evidence that secured your acquittal.”

“Yes…” Miles seemed to be lost in thought for a moment, then looked at her with a knowing smirk all of a sudden. “How curiously odd that you, with your perfect memory, should forget such an important detail.”

“Have you forgotten, you fool, that I am on very heavy medication?” The patient scowled, despite turning a deeper shade of red now. “You would think you would cut me some slack, hence!”

“I would, without question,” her visitor said quietly, with a look in his eyes she’d never seen before. “But that would require me to have a heart now, wouldn’t it?”

The silver-haired Frau was speechless, for once in her life. She felt a stinging sensation behind her eyelids and looked away, praying he wouldn’t gloat about his victory in this particular battle of wits. She was just as foolish as he was, allowing him to get to her this way and letting her emotions get the better of her. She was a Von Karma, after all, and shouldn’t allow herself to be blinded with such trivial matters. Well, she’d be damned if she even let him suspect…

All thoughts vanished from her mind as she suddenly felt the unexpected warmth of Miles’ hand clasped over her own.

“I’m glad you’re alright, Franziska.”

She huffed, although she allowed their hands to remain linked. “Do not get all mushy on me now, you fool,” she muttered, although her face was still slightly flushed as she stared down at their interlocked fingers, still refusing to look him in the eye. “I am not a small child. I do not need my Little Brother’s pity.”

“It’s not pity,” he murmured, his hand tightening around hers.

Something in his voice made her force herself to look up at him then, and she caught her breath at the sudden intensity of his gaze.

“And I think deep down, you know that’s not the case here. Just as surely as you must know that I’ve ceased regarding you as my Big Sister for quite some time now…”