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The day Trucy leaves, Phoenix is prepared to let her go with a smile.
It's been two years (it feels simultaneously like forever and not enough, never enough) and he's just tucked her into bed, kissed her forehead. He's in the middle of his nightly routine, brushing his teeth (when your drink of choice was grape juice, you had to be extra careful of cavities) when the knock at the door comes.
In a puff of smoke, Zak Gramarye, the last client he ever had, appears at the door and Phoenix Wright's new life starts to unravel.
He doesn't need to say a word for Phoenix to know that he's here for her: the light of his life, the daughter he'd abandoned, the one good thing about any of this. Someone who, try as he might, Phoenix knows he can't protect from this. The courts had been on the fence about letting him adopt her in the first place, there's no way he could stop him, even if he was a wanted criminal.
And, whispers a small voice in his head, Would you even have the right to? She'll be happier with someone who isn't a washout, with her real father.
Zak is dressed in a pristine white suit, a pink shirt poking out underneath. He shifts on the welcome mat. "Care if I come in, Mr. Wright?"
Phoenix can see the train hurtling towards him from a thousand miles away, but his mouth moves of its own volition. "Nope. Make yourself comfortable."
"Sorry for my late arrival," he says, and Phoenix knows he isn't talking about the hour. Two years was a long time to leave your child hanging. "Just here to pick up a loose end."
"Loose end, huh." Phoenix tries to keep his voice level but he's scarily close to shouting and Zak hasn't even been here for five minutes. "Hell of a way to talk about your kid."
"You know I don't mean it literally. A show is a show, and when performing, you speak the language." He peers at the office converted into a living space with a critical eye. Every surface is crammed with magic supplies, the marks of a man working at least three jobs and a spitfire of a seven-year-old everywhere he looks. "Zoning laws aside, this place looks nice, homey. You did a good job."
The worst part is he's sincere. No psychelocks anywhere, this man is genuine to the core. Doesn't make Phoenix hate him less. He gestures to the couch, where Phoenix can sit on his hands in an attempt to not deck the man.
They sit, and he forces himself to relax, even though every single cell in his body is screaming panic. "So, you're here to take her?"
Zak looks over the top of his glasses at Phoenix as if he has just sprouted wings and turned a rather virulent shade of orange. "I'd think you'd be happy to have Trucy off your hands. She's a burden at the best of times, as sweet as she is."
"Never," Phoenix responds immediately. "Not to me. Not to anyone."
Zak chuckles. "I really did choose the right attorney, didn't it? I doubt that other one... was Gavin his name? would ever have done this well of a job."
The irony that Kristoph had been where Zak was sitting, not twenty-four hours earlier, criticizing his cooking skills, does not escape Phoenix.
"So, where is she?"
Phoenix's voice is clipped. "In bed, it's 9 pm. She has school tomorrow."
"Oh, she was always homeschooled in the troupe! Hope she's doing okay in brick and mortar."
"Yeah, the teachers love her." He wants to keep his voice harsh, but talking about Trucy it softens, like it always does. "She's the star of the class, best grades and first to make friends. Truce loves the place."
"Truce? Wow, you've even got a nickname for her! Guess you two are closer than I thought."
He claps a hand on Phoenix's shoulder and he barely restrains the urge to smack it away. "I can give you a bit to say goodbye. Let's say, I come back at 4 tomorrow and give you some cash for your trouble, and you can send her on her way."
"Fuck no," Phoenix growls before he can think. The smile slides off Zak's face, and his grip on his shoulder tightens to the point of physical pain.
"Now, Mr. Wright, I'd choose my words more carefully. What did you just say?"
"This is my daughter we're talking about. Not yours, mine," he says with a bite in his voice. "You couldn't fight me on this, even if you wanted to. And you know I don't take well with people taking what's mine."
"At least see if she actually wants to go," Phoenix snaps, a moment before he actually considers what he's just said.
Fuck. What if Trucy did want to go? He wouldn't blame her, he's miles from being the father he'd want for her. They're living in an office for christssake, and she has to work a part time job at the Wonder Bar just to keep the fridge full. And Zak, by the look of that suit and his talents before he was accused of murder, has probably never wanted a day in his life. This was her father, what was Phoenix in the face of that? The man who'd been in her life for 2 years, hugged her when she cried, loved her with all he had. But still nothing compared to the man who had raised her, who'd left her, but young enough that Trucy, in all her goodness and kindness, would take him back in a minute.
Phoenix is doomed.
Zak sees this realization slowly dawn on him and chuckles. "Good idea, Mr. Wright. Would you like to wake her or wait 'til morning?"
Phoenix wishes he can throttle the man right there. Not enough for a murder charge, of course. Just enough to try to keep him away from a kid who deserves so, so much better.
"Wait until morning. She deserves a good night's sleep."
Zak nods his assent and Phoenix stands up. "I'll get us some coffee. It's gonna be a long night."
He makes it to their makeshift kitchen before he slams his fist into the table, disguised as a reach for the mugs. They're all shaped like various hard to drink out of animals, selections from Trucy when they visited the dollar store. Phoenix opens the drawers and fishes in the very back for the plain white one that Mia had used in front of customers. For himself, he gets one shaped like an owl, which is normally his favorite, but tonight is judging him as he pours coffee into both.
"What am I supposed to do?" he mutters to the owl, who is firmly staring him down, despite being a mug. "She's going to go with him, and there's nothing in the world that'll change her mind."
He pours an excessive amount of cream into his mug and sprinkles salt into Zak's. Little victories, petty revenge. "He's her dad. I'm just the substitute that's been trying to take his place."
The owl now looks mournful, as he picks up both drinks and makes his way back into the main section of the office. He offers the white mug to Zak, who takes it, as he settles down on the couch for the longest night of his life, even excepting the one where he fell into a river.
He fixes his eyes on a point in the distance, somewhere in between one of Trucy's scarves and one of his bottles of grape juice and prepares for the long haul.
Zak doesn't even flinch when he sips his coffee.
He and Phoenix stay that way the entire night, until the sunrise starts to peek through the curtains, and they can hear Trucy yawn in the back room.
"I'm glad I made the trip down here," Zak says, unprompted. They haven't spoken a word in hours. "Despite it all, you were a good guardian. Even better lawyer."
Phoenix once again debates murder.
At that moment, Trucy's door creaks open, and she emerges into the hallway, rubbing her eyes. "Morning Daddy, did you have a good night?"
"You could say that," Phoenix says, as she makes her way into their living room, an oversized steel samurai shirt and shorts her costume for the morning. She always says the performance never ends, but these small moments, when she's just woken up or just come down from a panic attack, are when she's unafraid to let her walls down.
He wonders if Zak ever saw that. But how could he, and still view Trucy as less than she is: a miracle, the best person in the world, worth more than a verdict, worth more than anything?
"Daddy, I told you, I still can tell you're lying this early in the morning. It's okay if you were playing Pong all night, Aunt Maya says she does the same with shooters." She stops short about 5 feet from the couch.
"...Daddy?"
"Hey Trucy," Zak answers, but she's looking directly at Phoenix, fear warring with hope in her eyes. There's a question in them, desperate and raw and Phoenix knows the feeling because he's been wondering that the entire fucking night.
Is this real? Can this really be happening?
He nods, and Trucy smiles, one of the largest he's ever seen, and launches herself headfirst into Zak's arms.
The scream of joy quickly turns into sobs, and Zak holds her tight, his hand rubbing small circles into her back. It's pure and utter hell, watching Zak embrace her when his opening line had been calling her a burden.
"Daddy, you came back, I knew you would I—" she hiccups and cuts herself off. "You're here, you're really here!"
"I'm here, Truce. At last." He pulls his white fedora off his head, and places it on top of Trucy's head. It's a perfect fit.
"But why? Why did you leave?" Her hands, gripped tightly to Zak's lapels as if he'll turn to smoke the moment she lets go, turn to small fists, as she gently punches Zak in the chest. Far less than he deserves, Phoenix thinks.
Zak catches her hands before she can continue and smiles. "That doesn't matter now. What matters, is that I came back. And I'm here to take you home."
"Home?" Trucy's voice is small, even though the word feels like it's larger than the entire world. "What do you mean?" She leans away from him, but her hands are still caught in his.
Zak shrugs. "No one's looking for us anymore. You don't have to be here anymore, cramped up and unable to shine."
Trucy looks around the living room, and Phoenix can see the shame start to grow. "But... I like it here."
"But it's not where you belong," Zak says gently, as if this should be obvious. "You belong somewhere everyone can see, not with someone who can never recognize your true talents. No offense intended of course, Mr. Wright."
"None taken," he grits out, and Trucy can see the lie as clear as day.
"I—I perform at the Wonder Bar on weekends!" Trucy says, scrambling for a response. "I'm still keeping my talents sharp!" Phoenix gives her an encouraging smile, and she continues, emboldened. "All my gigs are sold out, and I even have a fan club at school!"
Zak laughs, a short, sharp laugh that cuts through her moment of happiness. "You think a local bar is anything compared to an international stage? Truce, you're kidding yourself."
At the insult, Trucy shrinks into herself. And Phoenix can't take it anymore.
"Truce—Trucy," Phoenix corrects himself. "This is entirely up to you. No one else, not me or Zak. If you want to stay, just say. I promise you, we'll both honor your choice. I'm not gonna stop you. This is your decision."
Phoenix doesn't know what he said, but it's the wrong thing. Trucy looks at him with hurt in her eyes, but quickly wipes it away. "Thanks, Daddy. But... Old Daddy's right. I'm not doing enough here." She smiles, but it's fake enough to see without the tell. "How am I supposed to be a world-famous magician without someone to teach me?"
"That's Daddy to you," Zak corrects.
"Sorry, O—Daddy. Just Daddy," Trucy says, her eyes focused on the floor. "I think I need to go with Daddy."
Phoenix knew this was coming but it still slams into him, leaving him unable to breathe. He wants to scream, to shout, to break into tears, but there's a ten-year-old in front of him, that deserves the freedom to be able to choose. God knew she'd already had far too much taken away from her already.
"Ok. Let's go get your luggage."
Phoenix is numb as they walk back towards the office closet, which had been repurposed from an overly large file cabinet to coat storage. He pulls her suitcase from the top shelf, glittery as hell and bought after Trucy made puppy dog eyes at Miles during a trip to Europe that winter.
Oh fuck, Miles. How on earth was he going to—Phoenix shakes his head. He can’t he just can't think of anything else until this is all over, of he'll lose his nerve and break down crying, beg Trucy to rethink things. He'd rather die than do that to her.
"Good thing this thing's so big," he jokes to Trucy as he pushes it into her room, previously Mia's office. He likes to think Mia watches over the space, that she keeps Trucy safe. Still hadn't kept Zak from coming back.
She's silent, clinging to his legs before she realizes she's doing it and jerks away.
"Ah," Phoenix says in response, trying to limit the amount of heartbreak that comes through in his voice. "Let's just start packing then."
They take turns emptying the closet, her belongings into the suitcase, but try as they might, everything won't fit. You can't shove an entire two years of life into anything, let alone a small hard shell built for weekly travel.
"I'm so sorry sweetie, but I think we're—you're gonna have to leave some stuff behind."
Trucy nods solemnly, and starts taking out her toy sets, instead fitting in toiletries and extra socks. Phoenix tries not to look too deeply into the fact that, when given the choice, she grabs her new blue costume instead of her old red one. When she shoves the fifth granola bar in (traded for a small Steel Samurai action figure, a gift from Pearls) he gently grabs her hand.
"You don't need to pack that much food, Zak's going to feed you." He says the sentence lightly, but Trucy clutches the bar to her chest. He holds his hands up in surrender. "Sorry, I'm sorry. Forget I said anything, bring it if it makes you feel comfortable."
They pack silently, working together like a well-oiled machine despite the lack of dialogue. They're just about finished when Trucy says her first words in thirty minutes. "Do... do you think he'll be mad that I changed my name to Wright?"
Phoenix's heart has already broken, but that stomps on the pieces. "No, he wouldn't—" He cuts off in a sigh. "You can always change it, if you need to."
Trucy sighs. "Do you think he's going to be a good dad?"
He's careful not to lie in his response. His own feelings be damned, he isn't going to try and set Trucy against Zak before she even left. "I think... he means well. You definitely make him happier, but you make anyone with two brain cells to rub together happier." He lightly ruffles her hair and she leans into the touch. "You can make the best out of anything. And if this is what you want, then Zak would be an idiot to be anything but the best dad in the world."
"I love you, Truce. Never forget that. I hope you're happy with him." She sniffs and goes in for the hug. The suitcase is zipped up, and they wheel it into the living room together.
Zak stands up faster than humanly possible when they make their way back into the living room, his mug of coffee empty and his jacket laid casually across the back of the couch. Phoenix resents that jacket nearly as much as he hates the casual way the man himself decides what lives to ruin that day.
He hands off the suitcase to Trucy, who wheels it over to Zak.
"It was nice seeing you again, Mr. Wright. Hopefully this will be the last time I bring such disruption." He winks at the end of the sentence, like it's a secret joke between the two of them. Phoenix's glare bores holes through his head. "Come on Trucy, let's put this in the car." They make their way to the entryway, and Phoenix doesn't have the strength to follow them there.
"See ya, Truce. Call me, if you ever need anything. I love you so much."
"I love you too," Trucy gets out, before Zak shoves his way out the doorway.
Lawyers can't cry until it's all over. And even though he isn't a lawyer anymore, Phoenix still knows the protocol like the back of his hand. The minute the door shuts, he sinks to his knees and cries.
Phoenix doesn't know how long he sits there; it could be anywhere from five minutes to a year. At some point, he's pulled out his phone to stare at her contact info, as if she'll call him as soon as she leaves the parking lot. But that's a privilege that parents get. And Phoenix wasn't a dad, not anymore.
"Wright? Hello? Are you alright? What's going on?"
Phoenix blinks and realizes the voice is coming from his phone, not the depths of his mind.
"Are you okay? Phoenix, what's happening?!"
And to add insult to injury, he'd accidentally called Miles.
He coughs, takes a deep breath in a futile attempt to steady his voice. "Yeah Miles, sorry for calling you, I don't know what I was thinking. Everything is—" his voice breaks off in a sob. "Fuck."
He hangs up before Miles can get in a word edgewise.
Phoenix can't believe he hung up, and he fully expects a call back any second, full of "What the hell were you thinking, Phoenix" and "You don't call someone a few time zones away and then hang up, Wright." Instead of thinking about this, he just rolls over into a more comfortable position on the floor. In a few hours, he's going to have to drag himself to work, or risk not making rent this month. But until then, he's going to regret every event of the past twenty-four hours until—
His phone rings. He checks the caller ID: unidentified number. Huh.
He picks up.
There's a laugh on the other end, filled with relief and panic and Phoenix just knows. He's already off the floor, pulling on his shoes, grabbing his bike keys as she starts talking. "Daddy, you picked up! I didn't think you would, I’m calling from a payphone—"
"Of course, I did Truce, didn't I say I'd be here anytime you needed me? What's going on? Did you guys crash, are you okay?!"
"I'm fine, I promise," and every word she says is the best sound that Phoenix has heard in his entire life. "I made Old Daddy drop me off. Could..." And she says it shakily, like she thinks the answer will be no, "Could you come and get me?"
Phoenix has never in his life been happier to say the word yes.
He gets her location and speeds over, telling her to stay where she is and 'Please be careful Trucy, I'm coming, I promise' and goddammit, this may be the thing that finally convinces him to get rid of his trusty Nokia because he can't stay on the line with her while biking.
He bikes until his legs are burning, until he's right by the address Trucy had given him. He sees her standing by the payphone, her suitcase open at her feet, trying to cram everything back inside and he trips over his bike in his haste to be at her side as soon as possible.
He lands on the ground, but scrambles up, a scrape on his elbow, and drags his bike behind him as he runs and flings his arms around his daughter, Trucy Wright.
"I missed you, I missed you so much it hurt more than anything, and I'm so sorry I didn't tell you. I love you."
Trucy collapses into his arms. "I love you; I didn't know what to do and everything was happening so fast and I thought you wanted me to go!"
"Never," he says.
"I missed you too, Daddy." She hugs back, tight enough to hurt but he's probably returning it because that was the worst hour of his life, and he never wants to feel like that again.
When they finally pull themselves out of the embrace, they're both crying, runny eyes and runny noses and arms shaking from holding each other for too long. Phoenix could not care less.
Phoenix doesn't want to push her, too grateful to have her back, but it was that reluctance that let her leave in the first place. Plus, he'd still like to know why her stuff was scattered all over the sidewalk. "What happened, Truce?"
She wipes her eyes. "Old Daddy lied. He knew I could see his tells, so he was smart about it, but once I was in the car, he slipped up.
"He—He told me he loved me, and that he missed me."
Phoenix drops the t-shirt he's holding to bring Trucy in for another hug.
"I am so, so sorry Truce." She buries her face into his hoodie. "He just. Left you here, in the middle of the city?!"
"I told him to let me out, that I changed my mind. He got mad and started yelling and speeding up and—" Trucy starts shaking, "I didn't know what to do, so I opened the door and jumped out with my suitcase."
Phoenix blanches and checks her over for scrapes. Nothing major, thank god. Trucy seems to have inherited the Wright invincibility. "What the hell?? Trucy, I'm so glad you got out of there, but maybe lead with that next time?"
She sniffs. "The car was going slow right then."
"Still!" he insists, and hugs her again, still not enough, in his opinion. "Did he say when he was coming back?"
She frowns. "He's not. He got really mad and yelled again, and then he drove off."
"Good, because if he does, sorry Trucy, I'm going to deck him."
She squeezes his hand and resumes picking up the pieces of her luggage. Luckily, it's still before rush hour, and the sidewalks aren't too crowded. Phoenix helps, and together, they piece back together the fragments of Trucy's life they'd gathered in half an hour and spilt in half of that.
"Are... are you still mad at me?" Trucy asks him as they zip up her suitcase. "I chose Old Daddy instead of you, I don't—"
"I'm not mad," Phoenix reassures her, one hand on her shoulder, another picking up his bike, a rather awkward affair made better by the fact he got to see his daughter's face. "I could never be mad at you for that. It was your choice, and I didn't want to keep you anywhere if you didn't want to stay."
"I wanted to go. A little. Maybe a lot." She sighs. "I miss him, and I don't know why. But I'd miss you too, and you never lie."
"Except when I brag about my cooking skills," he jokes, and this time it lands, to a small smile from Trucy. "But Trucy, that's nothing to feel bad about. It's okay to miss him, he's your dad."
"But you're my Daddy," she says, and Phoenix's heart is whole again.
"Yeah, I am, sweetie. But I'd never be mad at you for choosing otherwise." He pulls her closer to him. "No one should ever be mad at you for choosing something that's only up to you."
She nods, and this time, he thinks she believes him, if just a little bit.
Phoenix hears a ring from his phone, the first one his brain actually manages to register from the past hour. He pulls it out to immediate regret.
"Oh god, I have 12 missed calls from your Uncle Miles. Do you want to explain this one to him?" Trucy giggles, an honest to god giggle, and Phoenix knows that everything will be alright. "Look, you get the suitcase, I'll get the bike, and we can tell him together."
And together, they start walking back home.