Work Text:
Implied suicide ideation. Read at your own discretion.
No one had ever heard the wind blow like this before.
It howled and moaned, and Phoenix found himself struggling against the wind, desperate to get home to his daughter.
He passed an abandoned protest sign, torn and battered. The words said something along the lines of, liberty for reincarnates.
The only reason he could read the sign in the first place was because he was at the protest. Hidden, maybe, but present, yelling and chanting, to just please, please, give us our human rights.
Phoenix knew - of course, he knew, how could he not - that he was reincarnated. From who? He had no idea. But, he was registered, and had that stupid tag hanging from his belt. Begrudgingly, the law school accepts him. Strings were pulled and people were contacted, but in the end, it was worth it, goddammit. Because now he was a lawyer.
Then Mia died, and he felt that it wasn't so worth it after all. He felt his world crumbling around him, he felt himself sinking into the ground, "How could this have happened?"
He was there for Maya. How could he not be? This was her sister. So Phoenix protects her. Defends her and wins. Despite the odds. Despite facing the Demon Prosecutor, he wins and Maya is safe. She doesn't find out about his reincarnation until she decides to live with him. Shocked, at first, maybe, but she understood, of course she would; she's a Spirit Medium, after all.
But it was tiring, having to explain, yes, he was a lawyer. Yes, he was a reincarnate. "How?" they'd ask. He'd force himself to smile and explain that just because he was reincarnated did not mean he was incompetent, nor a cheat - reincarnation isn't a choice, I never asked for this - they asked if his past life was a lawyer. He'd shrug and admit that, he didn't know. Just because I'm registered doesn't mean I have memories. Because the only thing he could remember was his wife's eyes, but it didn't help him much when trying to discover his past identity. Grey eyes that danced in the firelight - he was engrossed.
Cases went fine, trials went fine, the Judge might have treated him poorly. But it didn't matter to him because he won. He won against von Karma, Franziska, and he kept on winning, until-
until he lost his badge.
The Judge tried to make it sound like it was because of the evidence. He didn't know it was false and the Judge knew this.
But one glance at his identification. And he was gone. Out. His badge is ripped from his grasp and he is robbed of everything he held dear all because of his stupid, stupid, stupid past life, whoever the bastard was. He almost felt contempt for the man - but then remembered he didn't choose to be reincarnated, either.
No one chooses to be reincarnated. No one chooses to BE a reincarnate.
What the prejudiced bastards didn't seem to understand was that every reincarnate was a different person. It wasn't a whole second chance, it wasn't like you exited the pearly gates of heaven - if there even was one - with the knowledge of how you once were, you don't have your memories as a child, you don't have an advantage.
Some reincarnates, some, like Phoenix, don't remember anything at all. The only thing defining his status was a blood test, a brain scan, and an ID card.
He sent a text to the babysitter.
Pheenie: May be home late. The weather is holding me back,
A few seconds passed, and his phone dinged.
Sam: np. trucy asleep. ill make u some covfefe.
Phoenix rolled his eyes at the intentional typo, knowing perfectly well where it had originated from.
He sat, shivering, at a bus station, awaiting his saviour from the biting wind. Sure enough, not soon after he took his seat, a bus arrived in all its glory. He stumbled onto it and fumbled for his card.
There was no card.
Alas.
He stared up at the driver with a pleading expression.
"Please," he whispered, "I don't have any money, my daughter is waiting at home..."
"I don't make the rules."
Phoenix stepped off the bus back into the misery. He watched with tears in his eyes as it drove away. Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid.
Hands shaking and on the verge of a fucking mental breakdown, I'm so sick of this shit, he sent Miles Edgeworth a message.
Wright: can you pick me up
He stood and stared down at his shaking phone, awaiting a response. It must have been a good ten minutes of staring before his phone dinged.
Edge: ?
Ten minutes. Ten minutes, for ONE question mark?
Wright: no money and no bus card thing. weather is going to make me keel over. want to jump off bridge again. pick me up?
Edge: Send me your address.
Phoenix typed out the address carefully as to not get it horribly wrong then sent it on its way. He didn't receive another response, so he figured he should sit and wait in the cover of the bus station. He had no clue how far away Edgeworth was. He could be around the corner, or he could be in France for all he knew. Phoenix wouldn't be surprised.
So he sat, in the cold, waiting for the prosecutor - Phoenix winced - to turn up.
He wasn't sure how long he'd been sitting there by the time Edgeworth showed. Half an hour? An hour? He didn't know and he didn't care. He practically sprinted towards the bright fuchsia car as he saw Edgeworth slam the breaks so as to not overshoot.
"You," he panted, "are a blessing in disguise."
Edgeworth scoffed. "I'm only here because I was nearby. If I'd been anywhere else I would have told you to deal with it."
"Wait," Phoenix buckled the seat belt and melted into the unnaturally comfy car seat. "Were you texting while driving?"
The car started up and Edgeworth began to drive. "No, of course not," he said, multitasking between looking at the road and his phone. "Don't be ridiculous."
Phoenix resisted the urge to snatch the phone from the prosecutor's grasp. "Never knew you were a sucker for dangerous driving."
"Well, if I hit someone, you can defend me."
Phoenix winced. He gripped his own phone tighter, trying not to recall the numerous articles he'd discovered after his disbarment. He stared out the window and bit his lip so hard it began to bleed.
Edgeworth hadn't noticed his mistake. Phoenix intended to keep it that way.
"You shouldn't text and drive," he muttered. He suddenly felt very unsafe, but, he supposed it was better than hypothermia. After all, what were the actual odds of a crash...
Well, he thought, I'm sure that's the famous last words of a lot of crash victims.
Edgeworth seemed to think for a minute. Phoenix watched him apprehensively.
"You're right," he finally said, and he held out the phone to his side. "Hold it for me then."
Phoenix had never felt such an expensive item in his hand before, and the act of taking it from Edgeworth's loose warm grasp made his heart skip a beat. It was a big phone, long and thin. Despite the lack of a headphone jack he felt all-powerful with the model in his grasp. He wondered if this was how rich people felt all the time. Probably not.
"How much did this thing even cost...?" he asked himself, not noticing that he was talking aloud.
"About a thousand. Why?"
Phoenix looked up from the device up at Edgeworth, who's eyes were focused intently on the road.
"Oh. Um. Just, you know. It looks expensive. And it is. So."
The car fell into awkward silence. Nothing but the sound of other passing cars and the pit-pattering of rain that was slowly becoing stronger could be heard. He saw Edgeworth reach over to turn on the windscreen wipers.
"I can buy you a new one if that's what you're getting at."
"What? No! No." Phoenix shook his head vigorously even though the prosecutor wasn't looking. "I don't- no, I don't want that. I wouldn't- no." He took a deep breath. "No."
The rest of the car ride was in complete uncomfortable silence.
They arrived at Phoenix's apartment around 10 pm. Edgeworth stopped the car abruptly and Phoenix jerked forwards in his seat, and in that moment was very grateful for the seatbelt.
"Jesus Christ, Miles. You couldn't just drive a little safer?"
"I am a perfectly capable driver, Wright. Want me to walk you in, considering you're so concerned about safety?"
"No," Phoenix grumbled. He unbuckled his seatbelt and shoved the car door open, purposefully being aggressive. Damn the car, and damn Edgeworth's sense of mortality.
"Night," he mumbled, then shut the door slightly less aggressively, feeling like he should be nicer to the man who saved him from pneumonia.
He'd barely reached the entrance to the apartment complex when he heard the sound of the car door opening and closing, then rushing footsteps. Phoenix turned around with a sigh as Edgeworth jogged awkwardly to where he stood.
"Did I forget something?" Phoenix stuffed his hands into his pockets. The prosecutor seemed to hesitate for a moment. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, then, finally, opened it again.
"I... know you're not doing very well in the... financial department."
No shit.
"So... I wanted to offer you some of my own personal funds. To help you."
Phoenix's mouth fell open. A fly could have flown in and he would not have closed it. He stared at Edgeworth for ten full seconds before speaking.
"I- are you sure?"
It's not like it'll matter, my rent is already long overdue, any day now-
"Positive."
Phoenix stood bewildered for a few seconds. He finally closed his mouth, then shook his head. "Can you let me think about it?" he muttered. I can't just take this...
"Ah. Yes, yes of course." The prosecutor took a step backwards. Phoenix noted curiously that his face was flushed. "I'll leave you be for now. I'm sure you want to see your daughter." Miles kept his mouth open as if he wanted to say more, but then, he shut it again, and he walked away.
★☆✮
Phoenix awoke the next day to Trucy staring him down with an expression full of worry.
"Daddy," she said, "There's a man at the door."
Phoenix panicked for a second, worried that someone was trying to break in, but then he figured, she probably meant that someone had knocked on their door and Trucy was asking him to answer it.
So he got up without complaint and hobbled towards the door, shivering and wrapping himself further into his dressing gown. He opened the door and was met with a tall slick man wearing a wrinkled suit.
"Hello," he smiled warmly, but Phoenix felt a sense of inescapable dread. "I'm here about your eviction notice."
"I have a daughter," he whispered. "And I don't have a job." He stared at the man with wide crazy eyes. "Please. I don't want her to be living on the streets."
The man sighed deeply. The warm smile dropped, and now all that remained was a pitiful expression. "I'm sorry. I don't make the rules. I'm only here to tell you about it."
Phoenix averted his gaze to the floor. He felt stupid in his crappy dressing down, and he knew too that Trucy was watching from behind. He took a deep breath in a desperate effort to calm his nerves. He bit his lip to stop the tears.
"I need more time," he croaked.
"I'm sorry. Find someone else to live with until you can get yourself a job." Phoenix felt the man lean in and he whispered into his ear. "You're that defense attorney, right? I think you're a genius. I believe in you."
Not anymore. Phoenix bit back a sob. Not anymore.
Those two words repeated over and over and over in his head, even when the man left, and Trucy went back to playing. Not anymore.
Even as he texted Edgeworth, his brain wouldn't shut up, and it was such a shame, he was doing so well, why can't he stop thinking, I want to stop thinking, please just stop thinking, just shut up-
Wright: im getting evicted
The reply was instantaneous.
Edge: stay at my apartment. your daughter too
Phoenix cried softly into his hands for the next hour, while Trucy pretended not to notice.
★☆✮
Phoenix didn't say anything for the whole day. He watched his daughter fumble with her magic tricks and applauded when she showed him the ones she'd mastered. But he didn't speak. He didn't have the energy to speak. And he knew Trucy had noticed his odd behaviour, but she never said anything; for that, he was grateful.
It was approaching dinner time. Trucy began to complain about her hunger. Yes, she had skipped lunch, hadn't she? They didn't have the funds for three meals a day-
"Trucy," he croaked. His throat felt hoarse and dry. "I need you to pack your things."
She stopped playing instantly and stared at him curiously. "Are we going on holiday?"
"We're going to see a friend of mine. We'll be staying at his house. Doesn't that sound fun?"
She nodded vigorously. "Is it Larry Butz?"
Phoenix could see her stifling a laugh, and he chuckled. Her young mind had always been amused by Larry's name.
"No, not Larry. Someone else."
She gasped, "Maya?!"
"Not her, no. You've never met this friend." Trucy had a certain soft spot for Maya, and Maya for her. It was a cute display. But now Maya was busy in her hometown, and hadn't had time for their little sessions.
"Then... who is it?"
"You'll find out." He didn't feel like explaining why they would be staying at his long-term rival's house. Though, he supposed...
they weren't exactly rivals anymore...
He shook his head, forcing the thoughts out of his brain. "Just pack everything. You can use my suitcase... fit in as much as you can."
She looked at him, puzzled. "Everything?"
"Everything. Go on. I'll have a shower, and we can catch a taxi." And pay them with what money?
I'm sure I have some spare change lying around somewhere.
★☆✮
It took approximately an hour to get everything ready. Phoenix stuffed everything Trucy owned into his suitcase, which consisted mostly of magic tricks, and it almost didn't close. But he managed. He carried the rest of her things and she took a few of her toys into her arms.
"But what about you?" she looked up at him sadly as they exited the apartment. "You haven't packed anything."
"You're right, I haven't. Don't worry," he smiled reassuringly, "I'll come back later."
It was only when he'd gotten to the bottom floor of the apartment complex, and was receiving puzzling looks from receptionists, that he thought of calling Edgeworth to pick them up instead of waiting for a taxi to come rolling around. Trucy was hungry and tired, they hadn't time nor the energy to wait around for something Phoenix couldn't even pay for.
The phone rang for three seconds, five seconds, and even ten seconds before Miles answered.
"Do you need me to pick you up?" the prosecutor drawled, sounding thoroughly uninterested and annoyed. Even though Phoenix knew that was just how he spoke, he still felt offended.
"Yeah. Um, I have a lot of stuff with me, so I don't know if you have enough room in your trunk..."
"It will fit."
Phoenix was very uncertain about this, as the car didn't appear big at all when he rode in it. He wasn't even sure if it had a trunk.
He didn't voice this, and simply said, "Okay."
It wasn't long before the prosecutor's car rolled up outside. Phoenix rushed Trucy out the door into the cold and got her in the back seat as quickly as possible. She immediately collapsed into the unnaturally comfortable car seats, closing her eyes and yawning.
Phoenix noted the lack of a trunk and stuffed in the suitcase on the seat next to Trucy. He then maneuvered himself next to her.
"Not going to take the front seat?" Edgeworth asked. Phoenix shook his head. Miles raised his eyebrow, but didn't ask him to elaborate.
It wasn't long before Trucy fell asleep in the car. Phoenix watched her chest rise and fall, and for the first time in months, he was calm.
Maybe, for a little while, he thought, I can ignore the rest of the world.
Trucy was... his world.
The light in the darkness.
Sure, maybe he was... depressed. Maybe he had intrusive thoughts. Maybe he'd thought about things he shouldn't. But Trucy always kept him grounded. His daughter. My daughter. Where would he be without her?
Dead in a ditch.
Even before the disbarment, he'd never been... he was never stable, even if...
I'm lucky, I have no right to complain.
But he thought back to Mia and how she would berate him for comparing his pain to others.
"Someone elses death doesn't make your disease any better."
Maybe she was right. Maybe she wasn't. It didn't matter anymore.
He had Trucy now, so he would be okay.
★☆✮
The car pulled up at Edgeworth's apartment complex just as the wind began to pick up. He parked in the garage he'd been delegated to while Phoenix shook Trucy awake.
"We're here," he whispered. She yawned and stretched, barely opening her eyes to look up at him.
"'M hungry," she muttered.
"I know. We'll get you inside and you can have something to eat, and then you can go back to sleep."
Edgeworth silently opened the passenger door and grabbed the suitcase stuffed with Trucy's belongings. "Is this all?" he asked in low voice. Phoenix nodded and said he would carry everything else.
They walked into the building as fast as their legs could carry them, Miles dragging the suitcase and Phoenix holding Trucy in his arms. In that moment he thanked his past self for working out, because without that extra strength, he would not have been able to carry the eight year old and her stuff combined.
The prosecutor led them towards the staircase, and Phoenix stopped.
"Can we take the elevator?"
Miles turned around to gaze at him with a raised eyebrow. "You can. But I'm still going up the stairs."
He hummed. "Let me take the suitcase then. You can't drag that up ten flights." But Edgeworth shook his head.
"I will manage." He then proceeded to lift the case over his shoulder like he were a farmer digging up weeds.
So Phoenix carried Trucy onto the elevator while Miles speed-walked up the stairs like he'd done it a million times - which he probably had.
They reached the floor that he'd been informed Miles was on, and stepped off into the hallway. He waited eagerly for Edgeworth's arrival, and it was five long minutes before the prosecutor arrived, breathing heavily but somehow not panting. He dropped the suitcase off his shoulder with a thud then speed-walked some more to the end of the hall where Phoenix followed suit. He eventually stopped outside of one of the doors and opened it with a keycard that had magically appeared in his hand in the span of two seconds.
The door opened, and Phoenix peered inside, and was immediately taken aback by the cleanliness of it. The walls were painted white and the flooring were white tiles. The second thing he noticed was a bright pink rug sat beneath a coffee table near a TV bigger than the table itself. There was an absurdly plain dining table that stretched between the couch and the entrance to the apartment.
To the left there was a decent sized kitchen with absolutely zero clutter. Not even a couple glasses in the sink. And then finally there were some doors that, Phoenix assumed, led to bedrooms and a bathroom.
"Nice place," he said, glancing around, not sure what he should be looking at. "I think the polished floors are going to make me go blind, though."
He placed Trucy down on the couch, and she sunk into it. He shook her lightly and she opened her eyes.
"Do you want something to eat?" he asked. She nodded feebly.
"I'll call room service. What does she want?" Edgeworth took ahold of his phone.
"What do you want?"
Trucy smiled slightly, and Phoenix could almost predict her answer.
"Pizza."
He chuckled lightly. He was almost certain Edgeworth wouldn't want to infect his digestive system with something as greasy and "common" as pizza, but that just made it all the more fun.
"She wants pizza," he said, glancing up at the prosecutor with the grin. He watched with glee as the man went through the five stages of grief all at once.
"Pizza."
"Pizza."
Miles took his glasses off and massaged his nose bridge. "What kind?"
"What kind?" Phoenix repeated the question to Trucy, who was now grinning broadly and seemingly less tired.
"Pineapple!"
This is not my daughter. You have been disowned. Who are you? Are you an imposter?
"Hawaiian," Phoenix turned to Miles and was disgusted to find the man was now slightly less disgusted.
"Your daughter has some sense," he said. Phoenix gagged.
"Seriously? You of all people? I am terminating our friendship."
"It's not that bad," the prosecutor rolled his eyes while picking up the phone. "I've only had it once myself, but I didn't hate it."
"Yeah. Well. I hate you, so."
Edgeworth ordered on the phone while Phoenix took off Trucy's shoes. He then leaned over the grab the suitcase, pulling it towards them and cracking it open. He pulled out her pajamas, figuring she could get dressed for bed then and there, and not have to worry about it after eating.
"Here," he said, handing her the clothes. "Go get dressed in one of the rooms... and then you can have some dinner, okay?"
She nodded, carrying her clothes to the nearest room. Phoenix was grateful she was old enough to dress herself, because he wasn't sure he wanted to help her with clothes. It hadn't even been half a year since he adopted her, so he figured, she probably wouldn't be comfortable with it, either.
He watched from the floor as Miles ordered the devil pizza. Eventually the prosecutor placed down the phone with a sigh.
"If only you'd accepted my donation," he said, glancing down with a stoic expression.
Phoenix shrugged. "I don't think it would have made a difference," he muttered. "My rent was way too overdue. And the landlord doesn't have a history of being forgiving."
"You should have asked me for help." The prosecutor walked over and kneeled in front of where Phoenix was. There was... something, in his expression, that Wright couldn't quite work out...
"I hate asking for help," he said, refusing to look Miles in the eyes. "I'd just feel icky. And- and it's my own fault, I should have known the evidence was fake, if I'd never believed-"
"You has no idea it was forged. It's not your fault you were sabotaged. You had no reason to believe otherwise."
"Still." Phoenix sniffed. He didn't want to start crying again, he didn't want to- "The Judge knew that I didn't know. And so did the entire jury. And yet." He glared down at the ID hanging from his belt.
All reincarnates had to carry them.
Legal bullshit, he supposed. So employers knew what they were getting into. So employers would see it and be quick to judge. And then...
Reincarnates found dead in alleyways, threatening phone calls, sexual assaults, drugs.
As if having their rights taken away wasn't enough. As if being unable to select their own representative wasn't already hard. Unable to choose who their president should be, unable to hold a wedding, unable to have even a decent funeral.
They weren't even allowed their own gravestones.
Not allowed to be a police officer, a doctor, a nurse.
In the end the only people who accepted you were the priests.
And Phoenix wasn't even religious.
He'd only become a lawyer because he was lucky. Because his family was able to pull some strings, get him into law school. He was never bullied in school, he'd never been physically attacked.
And yet he still found the right to complain?
"Do you ever wish you were never reincarnated?"
He eyed the ID hanging off of Miles' own belt. Registered. The card held a photo of a very young Miles, looking uncertain and afraid.
"Often."
"Do you remember anything?"
He seemed to hesitate. "I do."
"Tell me about him."
Edgeworth's entire face flushed red, even reaching his ears. "It's not very interesting-"
"Please?"
The prosecutor formed his mouth into a thin line. He didn't look pleased at all.
"Who I was doesn't matter," he finally said. "What matters is who I am right now."
"If you can never accept the past though, then how can you live in the present?" Phoenix worried that perhaps the prosecutor had been someone bad. Like. Like Hitler. But then he thought, no, that's just not the case.
Miles sighed, and he opened his mouth, but then the door to the room Trucy had taken opened and she stepped out. His mouth immediately snapped shut.
"Pizza will be here in about ten minutes," he said. He then stood and made his way to the kitchen, where he began to brew a cup of tea.
Ten minutes passed. Edgeworth was sitting at the dining table with his tea, sipping it slowly, while Trucy lay on Phoenix as the TV played the news. He stroked her hair, gently combing through the knots he came across, softly apologising when Trucy said ow.
Finally, there was a knock at the door, and Miles took the pizza from the pizza person, setting it down onto the kitchen bench.
Trucy immediately jumped up and ran towards the table, so Phoenix followed suit.
"Pizza!" she exclaimed. After spending a single night with Maya she had obtained an affinity for pizza and no matter how much Phoenix tried he couldn't get her out of it.
Phoenix helped Miles grab the pieces and put them on plates. Edgeworth put two slices on Trucy's plate, and Phoenix realised it would be the first time she'd had two slices at once, as they always tried to conserve the pizza as much as possible to avoid buying more.
She devoured them both in a matter of minutes. It was the most she'd eaten in a while, and quite clearly she was happy about it. Before long, everyone had finished their slices (Phoenix gave the extra pineapple to Edgeworth), and Trucy was ready for bed.
"Which room can she stay in?" Phoenix asked Miles as she brushed her teeth. "I can sleep on the couch-"
"Nonsense. She will take the spare room and if you'd like you can take mine." He took a sip of the tea that was probably cold by now.
"No, no, I can't just do that, I don't want you sleeping on the couch-"
"Who said I would be?" he said, with a genuinely confused expression.
Phoenix opened his mouth to respond, then shut it again, trying to process what Edgeworth had said. "W-Well- I won't let you sleep on the floor, either."
"I never suggested such a thing."
"...portable mattress?"
"I don't own one."
"But, then-" A wave of realisation washed over Phoenix, and he felt his entire face heat up. "You... are you...?"
"Am I what?"
"I mean, do you- is that what-?"
Edgeworth stared blankly, taking another sip of his tea. Trucy exited the bathroom, yawning.
"Can you tuck me in?" she asked softly. Phoenix nodded with a smile.
"You hop in and I'll be right with you." So she retreated to the guest bedroom and Phoenix turned back to a thoroughly confused Miles.
"Be honest with me here, please, Edgeworth... do you-" the words got stuck in his throat, and he found himself unable to say them.
What if he doesn't? Would I just be making a fool of myself? Would he think that I liked him like that? DO I like him like that?
...
...
No, I don't... right?
I don't. I've never felt that towards him. You just... because the prospect, the idea of him liking you, it just...
You don't like him, you like the concept of him.
Entirely different things.
Edgeworth placed the tea down onto the dining table. Phoenix stared blankly at it, attempting desperately to remember why that scent was so familiar all of a sudden.
Why didn't you call Larry when you needed a lift? Why didn't you call Larry when you were being evicted? Why is Edgeworth of all people always the first person you go to?
"Wright," Miles said, and suddenly his tone was a lot more serious. "If your question was, 'do you like me?'... then your answer is yes."
Phoenix snapped back to reality. The flush on his face was a lot more prominent now, he felt hot, and his hands felt clammy. He tried to say something, but all he could do was stare blankly, and for the first time since childhood, he found himself staring directly into Miles' eyes. There was something there, he couldn't figure it out, ever since he was a child he found himself being drawn to Miles, and he never figured out why. He didn't believe in soulmates, he didn't believe in true love. So why?
...
Maybe he'd finally have his answer.
"Who were you?" he asked. He heard the door creek open and felt Trucy staring right at the both of him, but he paid no mind, his expression didn't waver.
"I was..." now it was Edgeworth's turn to turn into a tomato, and they both stood there, like tomatoes. "A woman. Named Alice. I've... I've never been able to remember her last name. Maiden or... otherwise."
"Goldmark." Phoenix felt like he would faint. "Alice Goldmark. That was your name."
An expression of recognition flashed on Miles' face, and he nodded. "And I married Louis Brandeis. He was a-"
"-a lawyer, in the nineteenth century. Alice was-"
"-an activist, a feminist. She supported him through everything, and Louis was referred to as-"
"-the Robin Hood of the law."
All the colour that was once in Phoenix's face was now gone. The ground twisted and turned beneath his feet, the world around him spun, as memory after memory flashed in his brain all at once. Meeting Alice, marrying Alice, and dying by her side. Every event, every death, every important memory-
He collapsed.
★☆✮
He wasn't sure what time it was by the time he awoke. He found himself on a bed, with his hand being tightly held. The room was dark, but the light behind the curtains told him it was day.
"Trucy-" he croaked, glancing over to where his hand was being held. But he didn't see Trucy. He saw the familiar grey hair, all ruffled and knotted. "Miles?"
Miles looked up, alarmed, and glasses askew.
"You're awake," he whispered. "It's been days."
Phoenix coughed, suddenly feeling like there was a giant lump in his throat. "Days?" he croaked. "How many days?"
"Five or six... the hospital didn't get to you fast enough, they didn't want to prioritise you because of your status, your body was going to collapse and they didn't prioritise you-" he took a shaky breath. His normally mundane tone of voice no longer was a low drawl. "So they had to induce a coma after the surgery, and they weren't sure if you would make it."
"Surgery?"
Miles nodded. "Your brain was going haywire. I can't explain it, I'm not a doctor, but you remembered too much at once, and your mind didn't like it, so it shut your body down. That's the explanation I got. So they had to- they had to perform a surgery, and keep your heart going. No one is supposed to remember every single life event all at once."
Every single life event.
Now, he supposed, I know who I am. I have a face to put to my ID.
"Where's Trucy?"
"She's at school. I've been driving her to and back. She said," Miles paused to chuckle, "She said she can't wait until the wedding."
"She- she thinks we're a couple?"
"If Trucy says it then it must be true."
Phoenix stared blankly. Miles' smile dropped, and he seemed to be back to his old stoic self.
"You smooth fucker."
Phoenix grabbed Miles' wrinkled shirt and pulled him close enough to where their lips met.
"I wouldn't say no to marrying you a second time."