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18 February 2010 @ 07:19 pm
095 | february 08, 2019 | cedar-sinai hospital, phoenix's room  
It wasn't until after the jet had been chartered and he had been on board for nearly an hour that Edgeworth began to question just what in the hell was he doing. He couldn't really entertain the idea that this had been an overreaction - the twenty-thousand dollars he had bade farewell to refused to allow him the luxury of second thoughts - but it didn't feel right either. Flipping through his sparse mental Rolodex of individuals that he cared for, the prosecutor found himself wondering if Phoenix Wright - as usual - was the exception to the rule. No, perhaps not in this case. He would have done just the same for Franziska. This was merely a gesture of gratitude for all that Phoenix had done for him - nothing more.

By the time his flight had touched down and he had secured a taxi ride, he had fully convinced himself that was the case.

The hospital seemed busier than he had imagined it would be. Finding a nurse with any sort of knowledge pertaining to Phoenix Wright had been as difficult as finding stairwells that weren't intended solely as emergency exits. To say that he was impatient to see the defense attorney would be an understatement; not only had it been twelve hours since that fateful call from Larry Butz, but he had been navigating the labyrinthine hospital for near to twenty minutes before he was finally presented with a room number. Though he felt close to snapping from frustration, Edgeworth pressed on - he could always take it out on Larry after he had gotten his answers.

He had been partially informed on Phoenix's condition before entering - the nurse he had interrogated had dealt with the defense attorney earlier in the morning - and he was at least reassured by the fact that the other man had awoken a few short hours ago. Apparently, Phoenix was a little further from his deathbed than Edgeworth had thought (which, while reassuring, brought about the question of just why the prosecutor was there to start with).

The door to Phoenix's room was open when Edgeworth finally found it, and he didn't allow himself the moment that he desired to collect himself before entering. He had waited too long, and he wouldn't be completely assured that the defense attorney was all right until he saw him with his own eyes. The instant he was through the door, Edgeworth's gaze shot to the peculiar, white hood on the defense attorney's head, blocking the defense attorney's face from the prosecutor's line of sight. Furrowing his brow in confusion (just what on earth is he wearing?), Edgeworth moved to stand a few feet from the bed. "...Wright?" he said tersely, somehow managing to keep the uncertainty he that felt from his voice.

The defense attorney had been in the middle of taking a short nap, and as a result he didn't look up as the prosecutor moved close to his bed. Once Edgeworth spoke, however, Phoenix jerked awake, his expression disoriented. Once Phoenix was able to manage focusing around the dizziness in his head, he carefully turned it, taking in the entirety of Edgeworth's appearance. A jolt of shock hit him, the sensation reminiscent of when he'd landed into the waters of Eagle River only the day before.

The fever ensured that Phoenix didn't think much of the fact that he was openly staring, his jaw slightly loose at its hinges - Edgeworth is in Europe, isn't he? Phoenix thought to himself, the cogs in his mind working furiously to try to put the situation together. His heart began to pound in his chest, a flush deepened by his fever appearing on his cheeks; if Edgeworth was here, in America - that is, if the defense attorney wasn't hallucinating again - had he come for Phoenix? The defense attorney couldn't begin to make heads or tails of how Edgeworth might have found out - how could he have arrived so quickly? "...Edgeworth?" Phoenix finally managed, his blue eyes wide.

If Edgeworth thought anything of the staring, it didn't show; instead, he seemed completely preoccupied by the hood Phoenix was donning, the large jewel that served as the centerpiece reflecting the light from the ceiling. Edgeworth folded his arms over his chest, the action not quite defensive, though for one reason or another he could feel his hackles rise. "I heard that you've once again landed yourself in some trouble," he said simply, arching a brow slightly as he tried not to make a snide comment about the unfortunate garment on the defense attorney's head.

Phoenix coughed behind a hand before he undid the hood, feeling a prickle of sweat begin upon his skin. The fever was beginning to give him hot and cold chills, and the hood was making him feel worse. Pulling it off, he put it down at his side. He was laid out on the bed, the back of it tilted up slightly so the fluids in his sinuses would drain downward.

"...trouble is kind of an understatement," Phoenix answered hoarsely, before he attempted to clear his throat. "Though I must be pretty sick if I'm imagining you're here. You're not a figment of my imagination, are you?" Phoenix offered Edgeworth a slight, hollow smile, the dark circles under his eyes indicative of how ill he was feeling. The question was more serious than it seemed - Phoenix had been experiencing bad dreams that had seemingly melded with reality during the night, his fever had been so high - and the fact that Edgeworth was present was so mind-boggling that Phoenix had to question it.

Despite his reassurance that Phoenix was very much alive, Edgeworth certainly wasn't appeased by the fact that the defense attorney appeared to be quite ill. The flush on his cheeks and the sweat on his brow were clear indications of a fever - and, of course, clear indications that Edgeworth wasn't going to venture any closer to the hospital bed than necessary.

Edgeworth's gaze had followed the discarded hood. However, once Phoenix had gazed up at him, the prosecutor returned his attention to his face. Phoenix's question summoned an incredulous huff from Edgeworth, small tinges of amusement touching his features. "Wright, I seriously pity you if your imagination only has the strength to conjure up a hallucination of me."

A look of incredulous confusion came over Phoenix's face. "...and me hallucinating about you makes my imagination sound pitiful? I'd say it's pretty strong if it can do that," he pointed out. "And I guess I don't need this demon-warding hood anymore if you're really here," Phoenix continued sarcastically, as he indicated a hand towards it. "My knight in shining armor has come to save the day."

As much as Phoenix's tone was sarcastic, his emotions were scattered and his heartbeat was irregular in his chest as a result - he was relieved that someone he could trust had come to help him, paired with something else, something deeper, something he hadn't experienced for years. While he wanted to spill the details of what had happened, he wasn't sure where to start - he'd written down notes between naps, but he couldn't be sure of how coherent they were.

Something about the knight in shining armor comment didn't sit well with Edgeworth, and it had nothing to do with the actual implications that came with it. For one reason or another, the sarcasm - although welcome in contrast to fervent gratitude - didn't lend very well to his willingness to assist. Drumming his fingers against his forearm, Edgeworth decided to ignore the comment altogether in favor of commenting on the hood itself.

"...a demon-warding hood," Edgeworth repeated, his tone disbelieving. "Do tell me that the hospital isn't responsible for that; I can't say that I'm a fan of alternative medicine."

"No...it was...it was given to me," Phoenix supplied, as he shifted, pulling off the blankets. He sniffled wetly as he fumbled for the controls of the railing on the left side of the bed, finally managing to pull it down after a few attempts. Everything in his body hurt, and his skin felt extremely sensitive, making all of his movements feel somewhat clunky and clumsy.

Once he managed to pull his legs over the side of the bed, Phoenix wobbled forward a little, dizziness threatening to overtake him. Getting up was a pain in and of itself, but he had to be sure of the fact that Edgeworth was real - and if he was, then the pain was worth tolerating considering the amount of trouble that Edgeworth had probably needed to undertake in order to travel to America. Thankfully able to catch himself, Phoenix finally planted his feet on the cold tile and shivered.

Edgeworth wasn't quite sure what to make of Phoenix's attempt to vacate his bed, and though he made no move to stop him, his expression clearly communicated that he was unsure that Phoenix should be moving. Unfolding his arms, the prosecutor settled a hand on his hip as he frowned slightly. "...Wright?" he said, his tone carrying a warning tinge to it.

As Phoenix carefully walked over to Edgeworth, he gave the prosecutor a smirk that bordered onto teasing. He didn't need to walk far before he stood in arm's reach of Edgeworth - and since he didn't have his shoes on, Phoenix realized he was slightly shorter than Edgeworth. "...I have to make sure you're real - and the proof is in the evidence."

Once Phoenix finished speaking, he reached out, placing his right hand on Edgeworth's left shoulder and squeezing gently. A grateful look passed over his features once he was finally reassured that Edgeworth wasn't a figment of his imagination, that he really was here. There wasn't any part of Phoenix that wasn't thankful. "Thank you," Phoenix finally said, as he moved his gaze from his hand to Edgeworth's face. "I need your help...and you're the only one who can do it."

Edgeworth stiffened, his frown deepening as he tried to figure out what exactly he was supposed to do with the hand on his shoulder. No reaction that his mind supplied seemed appropriate (touching Phoenix voluntarily would be subjecting himself to his cold, and shoving him away seemed a little rude), and so he simply stayed where he was, his muscles tense underneath Phoenix's hand.

It felt odd to the prosecutor that his presence seemed to make so much of a difference to the defense attorney - obviously, he was capable, but he wasn't certain how he could be the only one capable enough to assist him - but he didn't question him just yet. "...I thought that you might," he managed after a time, his gaze meeting Phoenix's blue eyes.

Edgeworth's mild prickliness was familiar to Phoenix, and it was almost comforting in the face of what he had just experienced - and was still experiencing - and he couldn't help the fond smile that appeared on his face. He had spent hours in the hospital, quite literally helpless because of what was happening...and Larry was about as reliable as a rubber ducky.

When Edgeworth's gaze met Phoenix's own, Phoenix couldn't break away, his mouth suddenly feeling dry. The fact that Edgeworth had traveled so far to help him was immensely meaningful to Phoenix, and there was no way that he could express that in words.

The silence lingered onwards, and in Phoenix's feverish state their staring contest didn't seem that odd; time didn't seem relevant at the moment. It had been a year since he had last seen Edgeworth - heck, since he'd heard from him - and there was a part of Phoenix that sorely missed Edgeworth's presence. Engarde's case had allowed Phoenix a taste of what it would be like to have his childhood friend around, and there was no one else that could replace what Edgeworth meant to Phoenix.

The uncomfortable tension Edgeworth felt seemed to center itself solely in his chest, though he couldn't be certain why he felt like that. It was something to do with Phoenix's eyes - their expressiveness, how they seemed to hold nothing back at all - and something undeniable behind them that he lacked a definition for. He'd noticed it before. It had been most fervent during the time that Phoenix had defended him, then the sensation seemed to return full force the day that he'd returned from the dead; that bittersweet mix of anger, hurt, and relief echoing in such a perfect dissonance that he could scarcely remember how he had remained so composed.

However, Edgeworth didn't have a fever, and he was very aware of the fact that Phoenix wasn't taking his eyes off of him. Gratitude seemed to fit the bill when Edgeworth groped for an explanation, and the prosecutor began to feel as though Phoenix was waiting for him to do something, but he couldn't be sure what it was. The decision to return the touch came after some awkward consideration, his right hand lifting slowly - clearly hesitant - before he covered Phoenix's hand with his own. Despite the comparatively warmer weather Los Angeles had to offer, his hand was cold against the warmth of Phoenix's hand, and the contrast didn't go unnoticed.

"...it's...a relief to know that you're all right," he admitted after the contact had been established. "Your luck is remarkable."

Phoenix flushed as Edgeworth's fingers rested on the back of his hand, and he took in a breath, the chill of Edgeworth's fingers begging to be warmed. However, he resisted turning his hand - something about it seemed inappropriate, and there were more important issues to discuss.

"...I've been stuck here all morning, so I'm not too lucky," Phoenix said wryly, even while he knew the fact that he'd survived the fall was a miracle in and of itself. He hoped Edgeworth would understand - he knew he'd pulled a ridiculous stunt now that he'd had some time to mull it over, but Maya's well-being had been at the front of his mind versus his own - and it still was. Phoenix would have preferred being able to make sure Maya was okay and that he was prepared enough to defend Iris in court, versus lingering around sick in a hospital. "Gumshoe told them to keep me here until I'm better."

The nurse that Edgeworth had spoken too hadn't given him much in the way of information. Apart from Phoenix's status and his reasons for being hospitalized in the first place, the prosecutor wasn't exactly well informed. His features hardened slightly then, a scolding sitting on the edge of his tongue for Phoenix doing something so inherently stupid, though he knew that the defense attorney must have done it for a reason.

"And I would say that's completely necessary," he said, his brow furrowing. "You should be committed for attempting a stunt like that. What were you thinking, Wright?"

Phoenix winced at the hardened tone of Edgeworth's voice, but he didn't object, knowing that he deserved to be scolded. "It...it's long and complicated. I need to tell you the entire story. I don't know what you know, but...I can explain, I promise." Phoenix then paused, his gaze going to their joined hands. "Did you want some tea? I can get the nurse to bring some," he suggested, hoping that he could placate Edgeworth's mood with the offer and warm his hands in the process.

"While I appreciate the offer, I can't imagine sampling the sort of swill that passes for tea in this hospital," Edgeworth said, unconsciously tensing his hand against the defense attorney's. "Your explanation takes precedent, and I would assume that anything worth dashing over that bridge for is worth taking care of in a timely manner."

Edgeworth's hand shifted on Phoenix's slightly before he withdrew it completely, letting his arm fall back to his side. Despite his former preoccupation with the contact, his concern over whatever task he would be undertaking became his focus.

Phoenix suddenly felt awkward about keeping his hand on Edgeworth's shoulder, and he drew it away, moving his fingers to scratch through the soft, ungelled mess of his hair, brushing the strands out of his eyes. "Not just 'anything'..." Phoenix corrected, a flash of a pleading emotion entering his gaze, "...anyone. Maya is...she's stuck on the other side. No matter how crazy it was...I had to try to get to her."

The defense attorney then stepped away carefully, sitting down on the bed. He then reached underneath some of the covers to gather together a small pile of papers that were covered in notes. Phoenix didn't want to miss anything in explaining the situation - most of the notes had been made frantically only a few hours before, provoked by vivid dreams of losing his memory, a risk the doctors had mentioned upon his arrival at the hospital - and Phoenix was somewhat thankful that he'd done so, as his mind was more than a little foggy.

Understanding washed over Edgeworth's features, though it disappeared quickly in light of inspecting the papers that Phoenix was shuffling in his hands. It felt awkward to stand, and so he pulled up one of the chairs from the wall over to the bed, taking a seat on the edge of it. Discussing situations such as these put Edgeworth in his element, and his gaze settled on Phoenix's face as he began considering the facts as he knew them.

Eagle River was more than a little familiar to the prosecutor; naturally, since the location had revolved around his first case, it had left something of an imprint on him. The area surrounding it was a bit more of a mystery to him, though he was aware that one side of Dusky Bridge lead to something akin to an island. If Maya was still over there... "You mentioned speaking with Gumshoe, correct? Do the police know that she's trapped?"

"I...can't remember if I told him," Phoenix admitted sheepishly, as he put the papers back in order. "My fever...I was having hallucinations all night, and when he came by I was out of it." Sniffling a bit, Phoenix snagged a tissue from a box on a table next to the bed, holding it to his nose with his left hand while he flipped through pages with his right. While he was somewhat unwilling to say why he had been wearing the hood Iris had given him, it was primarily because of his dreams from the night before - Iris' words and the hood had helped somewhat, and Phoenix had been able to get a small amount of sleep because of it, as illogical as the thought process had been.

The prosecutor's brow furrowed as he tried to put together the situation chronologically, but he couldn't place Gumshoe's presence at all. While Dusky Bridge could have been the victim of an arsonist, Gumshoe was in the homicide division at the precinct, and as such he would have no business being anywhere near Phoenix or Eagle River.

However, the fact remained that Gumshoe had apparently been intertwined in the situation somehow, which meant only one thing.

"Wright, tell me what happened last night. Omit no details." Edgeworth hesitated for a brief moment before speaking again. "Was someone killed?"

Phoenix nodded slightly. "Elise Deauxnim," he finally said, "but there's more to it than her murder. Maya and Pearl brought me up to Hazakura because Maya was going to be undertaking some type of training...there's a temple up top on the mountain, and it's run by two nuns: Sister Bikini and Iris."

The defense attorney then continued, detailing the entirety of the day and the majority of his conversations. Phoenix wasn't sure what Edgeworth might need - so as a result, he gave him everything that he could remember. His memories of what had happened directly before his fall into the river were slightly foggy, and he hadn't gotten to write down notes about them, but he did his best, making sure that Edgeworth knew that the person who had committed the murder might have run across the bridge.

"...I know they're going to try to pin the blame of the murder on Iris because of what Sister Bikini saw," Phoenix finished, "but something about it doesn't make sense. That's why I need your help - I need you to defend her."

Edgeworth had been following Phoenix's words very carefully, but Phoenix's request of him caused him to stumble mentally. "...defend her?" Shifting uncomfortably in his chair, Edgeworth offered Phoenix a look that clearly implied that he prayed the defense attorney was joking.

"I realize that you're feverish, Wright, but no amount of deluding yourself can alter my occupation or my capabilities," he said, his tone clipped despite his attempt at gibing. "I am more than willing to assist you; however...you aren't asking the possible of me."

"Edgeworth..." Phoenix trailed off, before he focused his gaze on Edgeworth's own. The emotion in his expression was clearly pleading, the look in his eyes soft, but he had no idea of how to convince Edgeworth that he felt the prosecutor was fully capable without stepping into what he felt was uncomfortable territory. "...I need you. You're the only one that I can trust with this."

Phoenix then turned, reaching underneath the covers and pulling out his defense attorney badge and the magatama. He'd kept them close, feeling they were safer near him versus anywhere else, and it was miraculous that he hadn't managed to lose either of them in the fall. "You taught me a year ago that the only kind of justice in court comes from the truth. This case...it's big, I can feel it. I need you to buy me some time until I'm able to step in." He then reached out, taking Edgeworth's right hand into his left and slipping the small items into his palm. They were warm from being next to him and under the covers for so long, a considerable contrast to the chill of Edgeworth's fingers. "I'm not going to force you, Edgeworth. But at least visit Iris in the detention center - then decide."

"Wright..." Edgeworth's hand was tense in the warmth of Phoenix's own hand until he realized what he was doing, his fingers closing around the objects placed into his palm. He couldn't be sure what the second item was, but the shape of the defense attorney badge was easily recognizable. There was a long moment of hesitation before he withdrew his hand, the look on his face clearly troubled.

It didn't take a genius to see that there was something very personal about this case to Phoenix. Of course, the presence of the Fey girls held some bearing on everything, but the fact was that Phoenix was asking for him to help Iris - not the Fey girls directly. Opening his hand, Edgeworth gazed down at the defense attorney's badge in his palm and the small green object that he didn't recognize. "...this Iris is someone special to you, is she not?" he asked, turning his gaze up to meet Phoenix's.

"...!" Phoenix looked away, unsureness mixed with a layer of a guarded emotion appearing in his eyes.

The three psychelocks appeared rapidly in Edgeworth's line of sight, the chains leading from them clanking into place noisily. As noisy as they were, however, Phoenix seemed completely unaware of them. "...everything is entwined in this case - I know it. Iris is only one part of the puzzle. Just trust me, okay?" Phoenix asked, his tone of voice earnest, even while he was clearly hiding something even without the evidence of the psychelocks themselves.

"Wh-what on earth?!" Edgeworth jolted backward as the room seemed to darken, the thick locks and chains obscuring the majority of his view of the defense attorney. His hand went limp, the magatama and attorney's badge slipping from his grasp and clacking onto the floor, the sound hardly audible as his chair screeched against the linoleum in protest.

The locks disappeared almost immediately after he lost contact with the magatama, leaving the prosecutor wide-eyed and with a pounding heart. "...Wr-Wright, what was..." he managed, trying in vain to keep the shock out of his voice.

Phoenix stared at Edgeworth, shocked by the prosecutor's rapid withdrawal from the bed. His gaze quickly went to the floor, drawn immediately to where his magatama and badge lay. The magatama was glowing, the light dimming as time passed.

After Phoenix managed to realize what had startled Edgeworth so badly, the pace of his heartrate slowing back to a normal speed in his chest, Phoenix reached down, managing to pick up the two objects after a moment. Phoenix gave Edgeworth a mildly amused, partially sympathetic look as he slowly pulled himself back up, the sudden flow of blood to his head leaving him slightly dizzy. "...sorry," he apologized lightly. "I'm...not very good at hiding things, am I?"

Before Edgeworth was able to answer, Phoenix continued onwards with his explanation, not wanting the prosecutor to try to ask. "This is going to sound crazy, but..." Phoenix then held up the magatama. "...this is called a magatama. It...allows you to see into people's hearts, if you're able to find enough information to unlock their secrets - or their psychelocks, as you just saw."

Edgeworth's exterior reflected a calm that he didn't exactly feel after the locks appeared to be gone for good. Swallowing, he focused his gaze on the magatama, hesitating briefly before he stood and moved to Phoenix's bed. It was hard to accept, even with what he had just seen. It had to be nonsense. There was simply no way something like that could exist...

...but it did. As in denial as Edgeworth was of the occult and everything that even hinted at being 'new age', it wasn't in his nature to deny something that had solid evidence. Though his mind wouldn't wrap around the concept with any sort of consistency, he took the magatama from Phoenix's fingers gingerly, examining all the sides of it carefully before he held it up to the light.

"...preposterous..." he muttered under his breath, a frown marring his features. "Looking past the fact that what you're saying is impossible...it would imply that you truly are hiding something." Turning his gaze down to Phoenix's face, Edgeworth lowered his hand. "If this means so much to you, Wright...I'll see what can be done on Iris' behalf."

Shifting his papers to his side, Phoenix stood up carefully, undoing the backing of his badge in his hand. He then reached out, deftly pinning it to the lapel of Edgeworth's jacket. The badge shined in the light from the window, the gold gleaming in sharp contrast to the maroon-pink of Edgeworth's suit, and Phoenix's gaze lingered on it briefly before he glanced back up at Edgeworth's face.

The impression of seeing a defense attorney's badge on Edgeworth's lapel struck Phoenix deeply, and he couldn't help but feel as if it had been meant to be there all along. Part of Phoenix knew that it was the truth, but there was no way that he could verbalize it. He had no right to talk to Edgeworth about his father and about their dreams as children at this point in their rekindled friendship - and now was hardly the right time to attempt to do so.

"...I know I said this before, but...thank you, Edgeworth. For everything. I...I owe you a big one. Everything...everything will explain itself once we're able to uncover the truth, I know - and I'll make sure that I'll pay you back, somehow. I promise." Phoenix hoped that Edgeworth would understand the significance of what he was trying to say.

Edgeworth's gaze was cautious as he watched Phoenix attach the badge to his lapel. A large part of him wanted to object - it simply didn't feel right to wear that badge and take on what it represented - but his protestations dried up before he could properly process them. The gratitude that Phoenix was showing was more than a little overwhelming, and it softened the rough edges of his expression just enough to leave him looking uncertain.

However, Edgeworth had said that he would see what could be done, and he intended on doing just that. Any trepidations he had would have be brushed off and dealt with more appropriately later. Dismissing the uncomfortable sensation welling in his chest, Edgeworth allowed a smirk to tug at his lips. "...right, well. You seem to have forgotten that I already owe you a great deal." In fact, I wouldn't be here right now without your efforts to 'save' me, Edgeworth finished in his mind, preferring to leave the words unsaid. "I can make you no promises, however...I will do what I can."

In that moment, with his fingers so close, Phoenix was tempted to touch the prosecutor, if only to experience what it felt like. As much as Edgeworth made himself out to be unapproachable in some ways, Phoenix knew he was human - and he wondered vaguely if Edgeworth craved closeness, and...if, after all this time, he could provide it - and the pure desire to attempt to see if he could uncover Edgeworth's innermost thoughts with his hands hit Phoenix like a warm tidal wave.

This fever...it must be making me crazy, Phoenix thought to himself, as he withdrew his hands and sat back down on the bed. There's...no way that I...

...but he did, and Phoenix was realizing that this wasn't the first time he'd felt that way. It was an unsettling realization, and Phoenix knew he wasn't going to be capable of processing it until Edgeworth had left. "I'm not forgetting anything...you're my friend, Edgeworth. I'd do anything for you...so don't think about it like that." Scooching back on the bedding, Phoenix pulled his legs up and tugged his blankets over himself, a shiver running through him. The air conditioning was frigid, mostly to keep the hospital sterile, but Phoenix had experienced enough of the chill for the day. He then gazed up at Edgeworth from the pillows, and when he continued to speak, his tone was gently teasing, even while it was clear that he was being genuine. "...I trust you. Don't underestimate yourself - promises or not, I know you're capable...partner." A playful smile appeared on Phoenix's lips once he was finished speaking.

"...hm." Edgeworth's expression was significantly unguarded when he took in Phoenix's words, the amusement playing a soft dissonance against the wariness still present on his features. "Your belief in others holds no bounds."

The moment passed quickly, and Edgeworth's mind was already on the task at hand. There was a detention center to visit and a Larry Butz to reckon with once he arrived there - along with, of course, a mysterious woman that had some hold on Phoenix, though he refused to think much about it prior to meeting her. Gripping the magatama tightly in his palm, Edgeworth lifted his hand to place it in his breast pocket. He then turned on his heels and began to make his way out the door, though he hesitated just before he made it to the doorway.

Turning to look back at Phoenix, Edgeworth offered him a parting nod. "...take care, Wright."

"...you too, Edgeworth," Phoenix said in response, as he watched the prosecutor go. When the door had closed behind him, leaving Phoenix in the silence of the room, it took a long while for Phoenix to stop staring at the door, his thoughts whirling in his mind.

The fact that Edgeworth had returned to America for him was a shock in and of itself, and on top of that...seeing Edgeworth again had caused an intense, warm sensation to begin to blossom up in his chest. In truth, he had felt trickles of the feeling with Dahlia - but this time, the force of the emotion swept Phoenix's mind off of its roots, and he wasn't sure if he was capable of recovering it.

As Phoenix finally managed to drift off to sleep an hour later, giving in to the exhaustion both the fever and explaining everything had caused, he felt enveloped in warmth. He'd felt alone and frantic for hours, and Edgeworth's visit, while brief, had soothed some of the stress out of his mind, even while he knew the fight was far from being over. At the very least, Phoenix knew that Edgeworth was there in his stead - and that knowledge allowed him to feel as if he were capable of healing, even with the many unanswered questions and situations that were lingering in the back of his mind.