Blood Will Tell (Part 1)
The sequel to Of Blood Red and Burgundy and second in the series.
Title: Blood will Tell
Pairing: Narumitsu
Theme: Romance, Horror, Comedy, Action
Warnings: Spoilers for PW 1 & 2, vampires and blood, gay lawyers, violence
Summary: Edgeworth knows Phoenix is a vampire and has freely given him both blood and a place in his home. Nobody else knows about their secret, though, and even they aren't sure about how they feel about each other....
Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3
Miles Edgeworth rolled over in bed and felt around for the irritatingly loud classical music playing near his left ear. It took the prosecutor longer than he would've liked, but he managed to find, then disable the clock radio and stumble out of bed.
More by feel than by sight, he stumbled into the kitchen and put on a pot of tea before heading to the bathroom. Sighing, he turned on the light, picked up his razor and brought it to his face.
"Morning, Miles."
"Waaa- Wright!" The fair-haired man jumped, the razor slipping and cutting into his cheek. turning, he glared at the other man. "You did that on purpose!"
"Hardly." The dark-haired man was standing at the other side of the relatively spacious bathroom, sleeves rolled up and clutching a toilet brush. "I was in here already... you were just too blind to see me. No contacts yet?"
"I just got up." He hazily surveyed the other man, frowning. "Must you constantly clean that thing, Wright? In the dark? I mean, you don't even use it."
The attorney grinned toothily and shrugged. "Force of habit, I guess. By the way..." He walked up to the other man and ran a finger across his cut cheek, bringing it to his lips. "I thought I told you to call me by my first name. We are cohabiting after all."
Miles jumped slightly at the contact (those hands were cold), then glared at the vampire. "I object to the word 'cohabiting'. It implies... physical involvement."
Wright rolled his eyes. "Ok, how's 'living together'?"
"Even worse." He shook his head, then looked up to see Wright staring at his cheek. The prosecutor sighed and brushed his bangs away. "Oh, fine... help yourself."
Wright leaned over and ran his tongue over Miles's face. The pale man had to suppress a shiver... and almost missed Wright's next words.
"How about 'roommates'?"
"Rejected." Wright pulled back and raised an eyebrow. "It implies that we share the rent. Not that I'd mind..."
"Hey! You supply the money and the blood, I take out the garbage." The vampire frowned. "Speaking of work, the office doesn't even open for another three hours! Isn't it a little early?"
Miles just shrugged and went back to shaving. Wright hovered for a little while longer, then left the room. He waited a few minutes to be sure that the other man was gone, then sagged against the sink, gasping. Whatever happens, I can't let Wright find out... He splashed cold water on his face, trying to reinforce the thought with the icy shock. Even if it kills me!
------
Our relationship... is what exactly?
Phoenix had a lot of free time on his hands these days. Neither having to sleep nor eat nor work, he soon discovered that even compulsive cleaning of the bathroom would not kill the time until Miles came home... so he found himself spending an inordinate amount of time just stretched out on the couch or the bed, thinking.Predator and prey? No, he lets me bite him... And it's not symbiosis either, because he doesn't really get anything out of the arrangement. Does that make me some kind of... parasite?
He sat up suddenly, not wanting to be confronted by the disturbing mental image of a spiky-haired tapeworm. He started to pace around the room like some kind of caged beast... a trapped, frustrated hunter. He paused outside the bathroom, smiling slightly at the memory of earlier that morning. Miles is so cute when he's flustered... heh, who am I kidding? He's cute all the time.
There was the crux of the problem... Miles Edgeworth. Phoenix had been carrying an undeniable torch for the other man for fifteen, going on sixteen years now. Unfortunately, the prosecutor had never been particularly demonstrative, even during their childhood... and these days he kept his emotions locked behind a disdainful mask even in his own house.
If only I knew how he felt about me... Phoenix, frustrated, peered into the bathroom mirror and ran a hand through his spikes. Even whether he's gay or straight... that would be something. Sure, the guy dresses in pink but that's hardly enough to go on, especially since he might turf me out if I get this wrong.
Giving up on his hair, Phoenix stalked out of the bathroom and into the bedroom. He felt a little nervous, snooping around like this, but his detective skills had never yet led him wrong... and besides, spying was justified if it could help him figure out what to do about Miles. the only other option he could think of was actually asking the other man and sniffing for a lie. Welcome home Miles, are you homosexual?, Even in his head it sounded incredibly stupid... and if he creeped Miles out, it was goodbye to his happy land of free meals and no rent.
He turned to the chest of drawers first, remembering how he had hid his diary in a sock drawer when he was a kid. Unfortunately, there was nothing concrete secreted among the man's clothes... though the Italian designer boxers had given him hope. Next came the armoire, the nightstand, under the pillow. Finally, as he was peering under the bed, the vampire managed to drag out a large blue trunk labeled with the other man's name. It was locked.
He grinned like a shark. Jackpot! Grabbing the padlock, he prized it open with a grunt of effort. Pushing the lid back, he peered into the box. Some German paperbacks, a bunch of DVDs, other odds and ends... and a stack of magazines. He stared at the magazines, his throat dry as a bone.
Lesbische Liebe, they were called, and on the covers....
"Well, crap."
-----
"My poor, abused paycheck..." Detective Gumshoe whimpered as he emerged from the Demon Persecutor's office, trying not to think of the bare eternity of instant noodle hell that stretched before him. Luckily (or not) he was distracted by being pounced on by a very agitated Maya Fey.
"WHAT WAS THAT ABOUT ABUSED?!?" She was wild-eyed, clutching his shoulders in a death-grip so he was forced down to her eye level. He had a brief mental image of being devoured by a purple-robed teenage tigress before Hannah Fright appeared and pulled her off.
"Maya, calm down!"
"Yeah, slow down, pal!" Gumshoe was shaking in his... well... shoes. He stared at the spirit medium, then at Hannah. "What's got her so upset?"
Hannah bit her lip, then pulled Maya and Gumshoe into the alcove where her desk sat. "It's Mr. Edgeworth... there's something strange going on with him." Her eyes darted back and forth and she lowered her voice so the others had to lean in. "First, he calls in sick for the first time in a year and a half... then he comes in with this gigantic bruise on his neck. Every day since then, his neck's just gotten more and more bruises... and today, he has a cut on his cheek. He says he cut himself shaving, but-"
Maya cut in. "Nick also started acting strange a few weeks ago, he also had a neck bruise, and now he's disappeared somewhere! Sure, he left a phone message saying he'd gone to stay with his parents-"
"-but I looked it up and Mr. Wright's parents have been dead for eight years," Hannah finished up. She and Maya looked expectantly at the detective.
"Sooooooo... you think Mr. Wright and Mr. Edgeworth are in some kind of trouble? Someone's hurting 'em, that what you think, pal?" He scratched his stubbled chin thoughtfully.
"The only problem is, we've tried, but we can't contact Nick or get Mr. Edgeworth to talk to us. Any ideas?"
Gumshoe started shaking, his hand moving slowly from his chin to his pocket as sweat broke out on his face. "There's one person... who can get the truth out of Mr. Edgeworth."
Hannah stated shaking too as Gumshoe pulled a battered cheap cell phone out his coat pocket and dialed with painful slowness. Maya clenched her fists and nodded once as the man brought the phone to his ear. "Time to bring out the big guns."
Franziska von Karma!
-----
For some reason, he couldn't concentrate. One moment, it was the cut on his cheek that ached, the next moment his perpetually half-healed bite wound stared itching. Or maybe the cause of his distraction was the fact that the current case he was working on was probably the most ridiculous open-and-shut case he'd ever seen.The woman has her fingerprints all over the murder weapon, the victim was her cheating ex, and we have three separate eye witnesses. Nobody could turn this one around, not even Wright.... well, maybe Wright could, but not some rookie with the ink on his diploma still wet. The corner of his mouth twitched, almost feeling sorry for his opponent for once.
Still, easy victory aside, Miles couldn't even focus on the sweet prospect of a court case that wasn't all tangled up. His head drooped until it was cradled in his hands, elbows resting on his desk...
... so tired...
Pull yourself together, Miles. The only way to avoid the nightmares is to go to bed exhausted, you know that... Relaxation was the enemy, weakness only let the fear back in... even after Wright had found out the truth, even after he'd been absolved of his father's murder, the nightmares kept coming. Before, he'd just gone to bed at a normal hour and gotten gradually used to waking in the night in a cold sweat... but that was before Wright had moved in.
Waking up to find Wright standing over him, that look of unadulterated concern on his face... it had been almost more disturbing than the dreams themselves. Those, Miles was used to. Having someone else nearby... he hadn't lived in such close proximity to another human being since his college days, and he wasn't sure he liked it. His dreams, pleasant or not, were an intimate part of him. For someone else to witness one... He grasped a half-empty teacup and downed the contents.
That's another thing that's changed... He made a face as he tasted the sugar content of his usually-black-as-night beverage. However, the repeated blood loss had given him the most ridiculous craving for sweet things. Glaring at the empty teacup, the prosecutor set it down on the saucer and pushed it away, getting to his feet and sweeping out of the office. He needed air, he decided.
"Miss Fright, I'm going for a-" He stopped, eyebrows knitted... Hannah wasn't at her post. The desk was empty. Well, maybe she had to look something up. Pushing fair hair out of his eyes, Miles jotted down a quick message on his secretary's notepad, then walked straight to the stairwell, ignoring the elevator as he had since his first day in the office, five years before.
Having no particular destination for his walk, Miles found himself wandering aimlessly. He wasn't acting like himself at all, he realized... there was something deeply wrong with him that he couldn't identify. So lost was he in his own thoughts that he didn't even realize that he was being followed until he felt someone grab him, clamping a rough hand over his mouth.
I'm being mugged? He wanted to kick something as he was dragged into an alley.Things just keep getting better and better. Someone was reaching into his back pants pocket while other hands pinioned his arms and held his mouth shut.
"Hold still, and we won't hurt yah... got it?" From the feel of the man's breath, his head was directly positioned behind Miles's own.
He shrugged, then slammed one italian leather shoe up and out, striking the man who held his arms, while his head smashed backwards. He heard something crack, and heard a curse as the hands loosened.
Feet pounding, Miles made a break for the street. He was just at the mouth of the alley, turning to make a witty parting statement, when he felt something strike him across the back of the head. Stars danced in front of his eyes as he toppled to the ground like a fallen tree. Three of them... must've had a lookout... stupid....
-----
The back of his head was sticky, with his blood or that of the man whose nose he'd broken, Miles couldn't tell. He was watching three pairs of scuffed boots approach (one limping), heard curses he couldn't quite make out...
His fading consciousness was suddenly bolstered, however, when a fourth pair of boots slammed into the ground right in front of his eyes, spraying dust into his face. The curses turned to yells, and Miles struggled to one elbow, staring at the spectacle unfolding in the alley.
Three men in nondescript attire (one limping, one with part of a board held like a club, the third with a bloody nose) were facing off against a figure covered head to toe in a grey coat, gloves, sunglasses, and a balaclava. The newcomer moved with astonishing speed and an almost equally surprising lack of skill and finesse. Must've been hit harder than I thought... He blinked. Is that my trench-coat?!?
Wright, for it could be nobody else, was swinging his fists wildly. Every strike seemed to go wider than the last, leaving his stance weak and his core completely open to attack. All in all, only one thing kept the scene from being the most embarrassing example of how not to fight Miles Edgeowrth had ever witnessed - that was Wright's speed. Despite the inaccuracy of almost every attempted blow, the laws of probability dictated that at least a few would actually hit something.
It was over quickly. The two already injured men scampered for the street after one of Wright's lucky shots sent the third mugger flying ten feet into a dumpster at the back of the alley. Wright glanced at the form, ascertained that it was groaning and therefore still alive, before offering hand to the prone prosecutor. "You OK, Miles?"
"No." He took the hand and got unsteadily to his feet. "You could have arrived before they hit me."
Wright's balaclava moved as though he were raising his eyebrows behind the wool. "Actually, I couldn't have. I came because I smelled your blood."
If he were anyone else, Miles's jaw would probably have dropped. Instead, he settled for an incredulous look. "Smelled me? From where? My house is nowhere near here."
"A few streets away. I was taking a walk." Wright fiddled nervously with his sunglasses. "Well, a stalk actually. Being penned up makes me restless these days."
"Who were you stalking?" Miles tried to sound as conversational as possible as he dusted himself off.
Wright shrugged. "Nobody, really. Had to humor the predator instincts, don'tcha know?" His balaclava moved as though in a wry grin. "Well, maybe you don't. Anyway, I wasn't planning on doing any biting... just thinking."
"For once in your life," Miles muttered under his breath.
Suddenly, Wright's head jerked up as though he'd heard something. He turned, peering back into the darkness of the alley... out of which hurtled the last of the muggers. He looked wild, blood running from one corner of his mouth, and from somewhere he seemed to have produced a switchblade. He lunged at Miles with a fierce yell.
Wright moved like lightning, leaping forward and grabbing for the man. A flurry of motion, too fast for Miles to comprehend... and Wright had his fangs buried in the man's neck. He bit down, hard causing his victim to scream in a high-pitched wail. Wright twisted his head a little, and the man went limp.
Miles could only stare as the vampire dropped his victim, hands shaking, then leaned away and spat. "Disgusting. Some kind of drugs in his system..." He looked at the prosecutor, who stood openmouthed and staring. Quickly, the vampire knelt to check his victim, then bind the wound with gauze. "Don't worry, Miles. I hardly took any... he'll live. Miles?"
The grey-eyed persecutor wasn't staring at the fallen assailant. He was staring at the knife sticking out of Wright's ribs.
Wright's eyes followed his gaze.
"Oh..." He swayed. "Why didn't I notice that..?"
-----
Maya gazed around at the posse they'd assembled, feeling pleased with herself. There was Hannah, looking determined and clutching her purse. Seated beside her was Dick Gumshoe on the left and Larry Butz on the right (no wonder the woman looked nervous). Ema Skye had her notebook and pen, while Franziska had arrived carrying a large turquoise designer tote. It was a gallery of the people who cared about Miles Edgeworth... his friends, if only the man would allow them to be. Only Phoenix was missing, but he was the other person they were trying to rescue (Wendy Oldbag wasn't there either, but Maya seriously doubted that the prosecutor would thank them for bringing her).
"Listen closely, I do not wish to repeat myself." Franziska stood, looking regal as a queen and twice as intimidating. "From what Miss fey has reported to us, I believe I know what we're up against." She looked around, then smiled slightly. "I believe we have a vampire on our hands."
The dramatic pronouncement didn't have quite the effect Franziska was clearly anticipating. Larry burst out laughing, while Hannah and Maya exchanged glances. Gumshoe just looked blank, while Ema gave Franziska a disgusted look. "You do understand that vampires are a scientific impossibility, don't you?"
Franziska snarled something in German, (probably regardeing "foolish fools") and pulled something out of her bag, tossing it onto the table. It clattered across the wooden surface, coming to a halt as everyone stared at... a tooth necklace?
"My father was Manfred von Karma, a prosecutor. My mother, however, was the one of the Belmont line of Romania. Vampire hunters." She gestured at the grisly string of beads. "Those are the trophies of her battles, every one a perfect victory."
Ema slowly reached forward and picked up the object, its three-dozen ornaments clinking together like some obscene wind chime. She examined them closely, her eyes wide. "As far as I can tell without more advanced equipment... these are genuine. Exactly like human canines, only about twice as long." She touched a finger to one fang's point, and cut herself without even needing to press down.
"All the signs point to Vampire activity. A woman arrived at the Hotti Clinic a few weeks ago with bite marks on her neck and moderate blood loss. Mr. Phoenix Wright starts sporting marks on his neck and then mysteriously disappears... and now my brother also appears to have been bitten. But, just to be sure..." She turned to Hannah, who squeaked slightly under the glare of those turquoise eyes. "Has my brother been drinking sugar in his tea?"
"Uh... now that I think about it..." Hannah looked positively terrified as she scrabbled for an answer. "Yes! Normally he takes his tea black, but he's been demanding sugar these past few weeks."
"Common response to blood loss." Franziska's lip curled. "I suspect our leech might very well be feeding off my brother... probably holding that foolish defense attorney as a hostage to ensure his good behavior, too." She picked up her bag, placing it on the table and opening it wide. An assortment of stakes, crosses, and what looked like cloves of garlic were bared to view.
"Come on, it's time to hunt!"
_____
"OHHHHHMYGOD, Miles, that hurts!!"
"Quit squirming, Wright, I haven't even touched it yet. You didn't even flinch when you were stabbed!" The fair-haired man looked quite put-out at him, glaring down at the patient sprawled across his bed for the second time.
Phoenix glared back, face pale with pain. "That was because of the adrenaline rush. You'd be still, would you, if you got shivved in the ribs?"
Miles handed him a folded washcloth, which Phoenix gripped in his teeth. Reaching down with a look of extreme concentration, Miles yanked the blade out with one fluid motion. Phoenix arched, clenching his teeth until he felt the fabric under his fangs rip apart from the stress. The pain was excruciating, a terrible sharp burning altogether different from the bruised ache he'd had after falling five stories.
As the pain started to recede, he realized Miles was speaking. "Wha- what was that?"
"I said that I would have been very still if I was the one to be stabbed. Probably because I'd be dead." He leaned over and started binding Phoenix's wound with gauze, his fair hair was falling forward, obscuring his face. "When are you going to stop pulling stunts like this? You've been stabbed, tasered, poisoned, accused of murder twice, and tried to commit suicide via parking garage and chopstick!"
"M-Miles-" Phoenix didn't even know what he was going to say, but it didn't matter because the other man cut him off.
"How long before you actually get yourself killed? Do you have any regard for your own personal safety you moronic lackwit!?!?" Miles was warming to the subject, his voice rising in volume and pitch until it nearly cracked on the last word. He was glaring at Phoenix as he tied off the bandage with an angry yank on the knot.
Phoenix started to flush, glaring indignantly at the other man. "I didn't do any of those thing on purpose! Well... the attempted suicides maybe-- but I fail to se how any of the rest of it counts as 'stunts'. Besides, who are you to talk about being accused of murder?" He was yelling now, his face thrust in close to the other man's, their noses barely inches apart. "And as for being tasered? And getting stabbed? I was trying to save your life! Pardon me if the great Miles Edgeworth is too proud to owe his life to someone like me!!!"
"That's the whole problem!! DO YOU THINK I COULD LIVE IF YOU DIED FOR ME!?!?!"
"Well, you had better just-" Wait a second... "Wait, what did you say?"
-----
Yes, what did I just say? Had he meant it? Miles admittedly had no instant desire to retract the statement, though he did feel his anger dissipate from shock.
"I said that... that..."
"That you couldn't live if I..." Wright licked his lips as though they'd suddenly done dry. He gave a forced-looking smile. "Well, if it comforts you, I'm technically already dead. It wouldn't make much difference if-"
"Don't even joke about that, Wright." He was more nervous than he could ever remember being, not wanting to take anything back but terrified to go on, to say something wrong. Still, despite not even knowing what he was going to say next, he needed to keep talking. "You always treated me like a person... someone who deserved to live and be happy- no matter what I did to you or anyone else... When I thought I'd lost you today, I felt like I'd lost some... some vital part of myself."
"Wait, are you saying..." Wright was moving closer, until Miles could feel his breath like a breeze on his upper lip. "... What I think-"
Miles didn't even understand why the other man had cut off until he realized that his hand had moved to Wright's chin... and then he was moving the last few centimeters. Wright's lips on his were slightly cool, but not unpleasantly so, as they brushed against his.
Wright was still for a long moment, long enough to make Miles worry. If he'd thought about this, he would definitely have done it differently, not left himself so vulnerable...
Then Wright's hand was on the back of his head, pulling him closer and deeper into the kiss, and his regrets shattered like glass.
-----
It was Wright who broke the kiss, pulling away suddenly like he'd been stung.
"What's wrong?"OhgodwhatifImessedupit'snotasifI'veeverkissedanyonebeforeandIprobablydiditallwrong-
"L-Lesbians!" Wright blurted out.
All right, now I'm thoroughly confused... "Wright, are you insane?!? What are you talking about?"
"You can't be homosexual, what about th- those magazines?" When Miles looked blank, he elaborated. "Under your bed, blue box... ring any bells?"
Miles suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to hit his head against something. "You mean the turquoise steamer trunk labeled with the words: Miles Edgworth, open this and risk an extremely painful death? I'm keeping it for Franziska, you prying idiot! Why were you looking in there, anyway?"
Wright ruffled his hair, looking sheepish. I bet he didn't even get past my name, if he read the label at all. "I just- I've had feelings for you for a long time, but I wasn't sure if you liked men, let alone me. I just wanted to be sure..."
"So you break into my foster-sister's possessions. You really do have a deathwish."Why the hell am I finding this ridiculous idiocy so endearing? He leaned forward, hesitating slightly before he wrapped his arms around the other man.
Wright flinched at the contact. Miles pulled away, feeling somehow offended, before he looked down and saw that he'd been pressing right on the gauze over Wright's injury. The bandage had acquired a crimson tint as Wright's blood started to soak through it.
"Sorry, Wright, I forgot. Your blood levels... how are they?"
"Honestly?" Wright looked a little wan, but he smiled. "I'm not as bad off as that first time, but I did lose quite a bit- I'm pretty hungry."
Miles sighed and shrugged off his jacket. "And when were you planning on telling me this?"
"You seemed to be otherwise engaged- happily so, might I add." Wright got up and removed Miles's cravat while the prosecutor handled his shirt and vest. It was routine by now, a precaution against getting bloodstains on Miles's expensive clothes, but this time was different. Wright's hands took every opportunity to brush against his skin, and Miles was acutely aware of every time those cool fingers made contact with his neck.
When Miles had stripped to the waist, he wrapped his arms slowly around the other man's back (well above the stab wound) while Wright grasped the other man's shoulders, pulling him into a brief, chaste kiss. His lips moved slowly, starting from Miles's own and moving down the side of his face and neck until they reached the point halfway down where his pulse beat closest to the surface.
Trust. Being bitten by Wright was probably the closest Miles had ever come to physical intimacy... leaving himself completely in another person's hands. He knew that any of their sessions could result in his death- but the risk felt completely remote. I trust him with my life.
Wright bit down, sharp teeth sliding into flesh and skin. Miles cried out, loudly, as pain that he would never get used to stabbed through him. He felt the other man's grip tighten, almost in apology, but the pain had already receded to a bearable level. He squeezed back, reassuring. The pain held an almost sweet note to it, straddling the fine line between agony and ecstasy... leaving Miles to wonder whether he was a masochist or if Wright's fangs held some kind of chemical or drug. For some reason, he didn't care which one was the case.
Caught up as he was in thought and sensation, Miles didn't even notice the sound of people running towards his bedroom until the door crashed open.
"There he is, men! CHARGE!!!"
-----
Franziska had just unlocked the front door of her brother's home when she heard the yell. Miles's voice... god, don't let us be too late! She rushed forwards at the head of her small company, taking the stairs two at a time, and kicking open the door to her little brother's bedroom with one high-heeled foot.
The sight that met her eyes was terrifying. Her brother stood with his back to the door, blood matted in his hair, head thrown back. A tanned man, dark hair falling over his face like some ghoul from a japanese horror film, was sucking greedily at the red flow of blood dripping from her brother's neck.
A small thrill of pride filled Franziska when she spotted the bandage on the monster's side and the bloody knife on the bedside table. I knew my brother would put up a fight. Don't worry Miles, the cavalry has arrived.
"There he is, men! CHARGE!!!"
The vampire released his victim and tried to turn around, but Gumshoe and Butz were on him, grasping an arm each, just like Franziska had instructed. Ema and Hannah, armed with crosses and spray-cans of holy water, guarded the exits (window and door), while Maya waited in reserve with a stake in each hand and her sleeve-pockets filled with garlic.
The vampire was thrashing, and even two strong men were having trouble holding him. The creature was about to throw Gumshoe off completely when Franziska came up from behind, her whip encircling the monster's throat like a garotte and wrenching it back, provoking a horrible, inhuman scream as the sanctified leather burned into undead flesh.
Then Miss Fey was there, stake raised for the kill, mouth set in a determined line as she swung her arm up to deliver the blow that would destroy the beast, would set Mr. Wright and Miles free forever.
The foolish girl completely wasted her opening, howevber. She just stared at the vampire, mouth open in shock... and dropped the stake.
"What are you doing you foolish fool! Pick it up!!!" And the Franziska felt hands grip her wrists, yanking the whip up over the monster's head, removing the holy object that was the only thing keeping the monstrosity bound. She turned to face whoever had been so foolish as to put all their lives at risk... and found herself staring into her brother's face.
----
Phoenix gasped, the burning sensation at his throat was gone and he felt power surging back into his limbs. With a grunt of effort he shook himself, dislodging the attackers from both his arms as he ducked into a crouch. The way to the door was blocked by the smell of garlic, and both the door and window were guarded by crosses- even looking at the symbols made his eyes blur and tear... besides, the window led out into sunlight. So, the vampire did the only thing he could- heroically hide under the bed.
He cowered in the dark, his mind numbed by pain... the only thing he could see was Maya, clutching a stake with a terrifying expression on her face- like she didn't even recognize him.
----
Miles held Franziska's wrists as she desperately tried to free herself. He watched Wright flee under the bed. Good, now he's safe for the moment at least.
"Let go of me, you fool!" Franziska wriggled like an eel, much stronger than she looked. "We're trying to save your life!"
"My life doesn't need saving, Franziska!" Miles was yelling in her face, desperate to make her understand. The others in the room were quite still, watching the spectacle of the apparent victim chewing out his rescuer with wild abandon. "I was in no danger, it was perfectly consensual! What's wrong with you, breaking into my house and trying to strangle my guests?!?"
"You let it bite you? Miles you foolish fool, you were trained to hunt vampires just like I was- you know that monster's a threat to humanity!"
Miles snarled and pushed her away, before reaching under the bed and dragging Wright out by a wrist. "Franziska, take a good look at your 'threat to humanity'."
"Mister... Mister Phoenix Wright?"
-----
Phoenix was certain he'd been in more awkward situations, but he couldn't remember any offhand. He was sitting, shirtless and bandaged, in Miles Edgeworth's living room, surrounded by his friends who had all just tried to kill him.
I can smell it on them, they're afraid of me. He rubbed his finger along the rim of the shot-glass he was holding. Miles had caught the rest of the blood from the bite so as not to waste it, but he did not really want to drink it with the others watching.They're all staring at me, like I'm some kind of monster... except for Larry, of course.
Larry, desensitized, perhaps, by a steady diet of B horror films, was asking a rapid-fire stream of questions. "Can you really turn into a bat? Who bit you? Was it a hot vampire chick? Can I meet her? Do you have some kinda special power of hypnosis that can make the ladies fall in love with you? Can you teach me to do that??"
"Larry..."
"No, wait, if you could hypnotize people, you'd probably be sponging off some rich chick instead of Edgey..."
"Larry-"
"Though, Edgey is pretty loaded-"
"Larry! I can't do stuff like that, OK?" He looked down at his reflection in the liquid. "Being a vampire isn't as glamorous as it looks in Dawn of the Dead or whatever they're showing on the sci-fi channel these days."
"Dawn of the Dead's a zombie movie, pal." Gumshoe pointed out.
Phoenix frowned, "I didn't know you watched horror movies."
Maya sighed. "He doesn't need to. Everybody knows at least that much."
Well, pardon me for being culturally illiterate! He downed the glass of blood in a fit of pique.
"Mister Phoenix Wright?"
He nearly spat the blood across the room from shock as Franziska came up behind him. I didn't even hear or smell her! How does she do that? Swallowing and pretending he hadn't been surprised, he looked around at Miles and Franziska. "So, have you decided if you wanted to kill me yet?"
"My little brother has managed to convince me that you're no threat to humanity." Miles rolled his eyes behind her back, but she didn't seem to notice. "However, we have both agreed that it would be for the best if you went back to defense forthwith."
Phoenix made a face, and Maya saw it. "Don't you want to come back, Nick?"
"Of course I do! I just don't like having things dictated to me like I have no choice in the matter-"
Miles sighed and crossed his arms. "Wright, if you clean my bathroom one more time, the tile will deteriorate on a subatomic level. You need something to do."
"Hey, guys, I think Nick's wasted as a lawyer." Larry's face was lit up like that of a man who'd just had a brilliant idea... or like a nuclear reactor about to go boom. "You're super strong and everything, right? Why not be a superhero!"
The dramatic pronouncement didn't have quite the effect Larry was clearly anticipating. Maya and Ema looked blank, while Miles made a choking noise that could only be induced by the mental image of Phoenix in spandex.
"Larry, to be honest, I prefer practicing law." I've already been stabbed once, I don't like the idea of going through that kind of danger as an everyday thing.
Maya clapped her hands together. "Excellent! Now all we have to figure out is how to feed you, Nick!"
Miles's voice echoed Phoenix's puzzlement. "What on earth are you talking about? I'm already feeding him quite adequately-"
Ema interrupted. "It takes the human body eight weeks to replenish the amount of blood taken during a blood draw... and while I doubt you take nearly as much as that, it is highly doubtful that prosecutor Edgeworth will be able to sustain you on his own for any extended period of time without developing anemia. Therefore, the most prudent thing to do would be for us to take turns making donations."
There was silence for a moment, then everyone spoke up. "I'll do it, pal, but only as a favor." "Anything for a friend, Nick!" "Guys, count me in! ...It won't hurt, will it?" "I'll be expecting a raise for this, Mr. Edgeworth." "Well, if you fools are going to go around foolishly feeding vampires, I suppose I could donate." "This is a great opportunity for scientific research!"
A warm, fuzzy feeling rose up within Phoenix, caued either by the devotion of his friends or suddenly being faced with a virtual blood buffet. "Thank you so mu-"
"That's it, out of my house!"
Title: Blood will Tell
Pairing: Narumitsu
Theme: Romance, Horror, Comedy, Action
Warnings: Spoilers for PW 1 & 2, vampires and blood, gay lawyers, violence
Summary: Edgeworth knows Phoenix is a vampire and has freely given him both blood and a place in his home. Nobody else knows about their secret, though, and even they aren't sure about how they feel about each other....
Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3
Miles Edgeworth rolled over in bed and felt around for the irritatingly loud classical music playing near his left ear. It took the prosecutor longer than he would've liked, but he managed to find, then disable the clock radio and stumble out of bed.
More by feel than by sight, he stumbled into the kitchen and put on a pot of tea before heading to the bathroom. Sighing, he turned on the light, picked up his razor and brought it to his face.
"Morning, Miles."
"Waaa- Wright!" The fair-haired man jumped, the razor slipping and cutting into his cheek. turning, he glared at the other man. "You did that on purpose!"
"Hardly." The dark-haired man was standing at the other side of the relatively spacious bathroom, sleeves rolled up and clutching a toilet brush. "I was in here already... you were just too blind to see me. No contacts yet?"
"I just got up." He hazily surveyed the other man, frowning. "Must you constantly clean that thing, Wright? In the dark? I mean, you don't even use it."
The attorney grinned toothily and shrugged. "Force of habit, I guess. By the way..." He walked up to the other man and ran a finger across his cut cheek, bringing it to his lips. "I thought I told you to call me by my first name. We are cohabiting after all."
Miles jumped slightly at the contact (those hands were cold), then glared at the vampire. "I object to the word 'cohabiting'. It implies... physical involvement."
Wright rolled his eyes. "Ok, how's 'living together'?"
"Even worse." He shook his head, then looked up to see Wright staring at his cheek. The prosecutor sighed and brushed his bangs away. "Oh, fine... help yourself."
Wright leaned over and ran his tongue over Miles's face. The pale man had to suppress a shiver... and almost missed Wright's next words.
"How about 'roommates'?"
"Rejected." Wright pulled back and raised an eyebrow. "It implies that we share the rent. Not that I'd mind..."
"Hey! You supply the money and the blood, I take out the garbage." The vampire frowned. "Speaking of work, the office doesn't even open for another three hours! Isn't it a little early?"
Miles just shrugged and went back to shaving. Wright hovered for a little while longer, then left the room. He waited a few minutes to be sure that the other man was gone, then sagged against the sink, gasping. Whatever happens, I can't let Wright find out... He splashed cold water on his face, trying to reinforce the thought with the icy shock. Even if it kills me!
------
Our relationship... is what exactly?
Phoenix had a lot of free time on his hands these days. Neither having to sleep nor eat nor work, he soon discovered that even compulsive cleaning of the bathroom would not kill the time until Miles came home... so he found himself spending an inordinate amount of time just stretched out on the couch or the bed, thinking.Predator and prey? No, he lets me bite him... And it's not symbiosis either, because he doesn't really get anything out of the arrangement. Does that make me some kind of... parasite?
He sat up suddenly, not wanting to be confronted by the disturbing mental image of a spiky-haired tapeworm. He started to pace around the room like some kind of caged beast... a trapped, frustrated hunter. He paused outside the bathroom, smiling slightly at the memory of earlier that morning. Miles is so cute when he's flustered... heh, who am I kidding? He's cute all the time.
There was the crux of the problem... Miles Edgeworth. Phoenix had been carrying an undeniable torch for the other man for fifteen, going on sixteen years now. Unfortunately, the prosecutor had never been particularly demonstrative, even during their childhood... and these days he kept his emotions locked behind a disdainful mask even in his own house.
If only I knew how he felt about me... Phoenix, frustrated, peered into the bathroom mirror and ran a hand through his spikes. Even whether he's gay or straight... that would be something. Sure, the guy dresses in pink but that's hardly enough to go on, especially since he might turf me out if I get this wrong.
Giving up on his hair, Phoenix stalked out of the bathroom and into the bedroom. He felt a little nervous, snooping around like this, but his detective skills had never yet led him wrong... and besides, spying was justified if it could help him figure out what to do about Miles. the only other option he could think of was actually asking the other man and sniffing for a lie. Welcome home Miles, are you homosexual?, Even in his head it sounded incredibly stupid... and if he creeped Miles out, it was goodbye to his happy land of free meals and no rent.
He turned to the chest of drawers first, remembering how he had hid his diary in a sock drawer when he was a kid. Unfortunately, there was nothing concrete secreted among the man's clothes... though the Italian designer boxers had given him hope. Next came the armoire, the nightstand, under the pillow. Finally, as he was peering under the bed, the vampire managed to drag out a large blue trunk labeled with the other man's name. It was locked.
He grinned like a shark. Jackpot! Grabbing the padlock, he prized it open with a grunt of effort. Pushing the lid back, he peered into the box. Some German paperbacks, a bunch of DVDs, other odds and ends... and a stack of magazines. He stared at the magazines, his throat dry as a bone.
Lesbische Liebe, they were called, and on the covers....
"Well, crap."
-----
"My poor, abused paycheck..." Detective Gumshoe whimpered as he emerged from the Demon Persecutor's office, trying not to think of the bare eternity of instant noodle hell that stretched before him. Luckily (or not) he was distracted by being pounced on by a very agitated Maya Fey.
"WHAT WAS THAT ABOUT ABUSED?!?" She was wild-eyed, clutching his shoulders in a death-grip so he was forced down to her eye level. He had a brief mental image of being devoured by a purple-robed teenage tigress before Hannah Fright appeared and pulled her off.
"Maya, calm down!"
"Yeah, slow down, pal!" Gumshoe was shaking in his... well... shoes. He stared at the spirit medium, then at Hannah. "What's got her so upset?"
Hannah bit her lip, then pulled Maya and Gumshoe into the alcove where her desk sat. "It's Mr. Edgeworth... there's something strange going on with him." Her eyes darted back and forth and she lowered her voice so the others had to lean in. "First, he calls in sick for the first time in a year and a half... then he comes in with this gigantic bruise on his neck. Every day since then, his neck's just gotten more and more bruises... and today, he has a cut on his cheek. He says he cut himself shaving, but-"
Maya cut in. "Nick also started acting strange a few weeks ago, he also had a neck bruise, and now he's disappeared somewhere! Sure, he left a phone message saying he'd gone to stay with his parents-"
"-but I looked it up and Mr. Wright's parents have been dead for eight years," Hannah finished up. She and Maya looked expectantly at the detective.
"Sooooooo... you think Mr. Wright and Mr. Edgeworth are in some kind of trouble? Someone's hurting 'em, that what you think, pal?" He scratched his stubbled chin thoughtfully.
"The only problem is, we've tried, but we can't contact Nick or get Mr. Edgeworth to talk to us. Any ideas?"
Gumshoe started shaking, his hand moving slowly from his chin to his pocket as sweat broke out on his face. "There's one person... who can get the truth out of Mr. Edgeworth."
Hannah stated shaking too as Gumshoe pulled a battered cheap cell phone out his coat pocket and dialed with painful slowness. Maya clenched her fists and nodded once as the man brought the phone to his ear. "Time to bring out the big guns."
Franziska von Karma!
-----
For some reason, he couldn't concentrate. One moment, it was the cut on his cheek that ached, the next moment his perpetually half-healed bite wound stared itching. Or maybe the cause of his distraction was the fact that the current case he was working on was probably the most ridiculous open-and-shut case he'd ever seen.The woman has her fingerprints all over the murder weapon, the victim was her cheating ex, and we have three separate eye witnesses. Nobody could turn this one around, not even Wright.... well, maybe Wright could, but not some rookie with the ink on his diploma still wet. The corner of his mouth twitched, almost feeling sorry for his opponent for once.
Still, easy victory aside, Miles couldn't even focus on the sweet prospect of a court case that wasn't all tangled up. His head drooped until it was cradled in his hands, elbows resting on his desk...
... so tired...
Pull yourself together, Miles. The only way to avoid the nightmares is to go to bed exhausted, you know that... Relaxation was the enemy, weakness only let the fear back in... even after Wright had found out the truth, even after he'd been absolved of his father's murder, the nightmares kept coming. Before, he'd just gone to bed at a normal hour and gotten gradually used to waking in the night in a cold sweat... but that was before Wright had moved in.
Waking up to find Wright standing over him, that look of unadulterated concern on his face... it had been almost more disturbing than the dreams themselves. Those, Miles was used to. Having someone else nearby... he hadn't lived in such close proximity to another human being since his college days, and he wasn't sure he liked it. His dreams, pleasant or not, were an intimate part of him. For someone else to witness one... He grasped a half-empty teacup and downed the contents.
That's another thing that's changed... He made a face as he tasted the sugar content of his usually-black-as-night beverage. However, the repeated blood loss had given him the most ridiculous craving for sweet things. Glaring at the empty teacup, the prosecutor set it down on the saucer and pushed it away, getting to his feet and sweeping out of the office. He needed air, he decided.
"Miss Fright, I'm going for a-" He stopped, eyebrows knitted... Hannah wasn't at her post. The desk was empty. Well, maybe she had to look something up. Pushing fair hair out of his eyes, Miles jotted down a quick message on his secretary's notepad, then walked straight to the stairwell, ignoring the elevator as he had since his first day in the office, five years before.
Having no particular destination for his walk, Miles found himself wandering aimlessly. He wasn't acting like himself at all, he realized... there was something deeply wrong with him that he couldn't identify. So lost was he in his own thoughts that he didn't even realize that he was being followed until he felt someone grab him, clamping a rough hand over his mouth.
I'm being mugged? He wanted to kick something as he was dragged into an alley.Things just keep getting better and better. Someone was reaching into his back pants pocket while other hands pinioned his arms and held his mouth shut.
"Hold still, and we won't hurt yah... got it?" From the feel of the man's breath, his head was directly positioned behind Miles's own.
He shrugged, then slammed one italian leather shoe up and out, striking the man who held his arms, while his head smashed backwards. He heard something crack, and heard a curse as the hands loosened.
Feet pounding, Miles made a break for the street. He was just at the mouth of the alley, turning to make a witty parting statement, when he felt something strike him across the back of the head. Stars danced in front of his eyes as he toppled to the ground like a fallen tree. Three of them... must've had a lookout... stupid....
-----
The back of his head was sticky, with his blood or that of the man whose nose he'd broken, Miles couldn't tell. He was watching three pairs of scuffed boots approach (one limping), heard curses he couldn't quite make out...
His fading consciousness was suddenly bolstered, however, when a fourth pair of boots slammed into the ground right in front of his eyes, spraying dust into his face. The curses turned to yells, and Miles struggled to one elbow, staring at the spectacle unfolding in the alley.
Three men in nondescript attire (one limping, one with part of a board held like a club, the third with a bloody nose) were facing off against a figure covered head to toe in a grey coat, gloves, sunglasses, and a balaclava. The newcomer moved with astonishing speed and an almost equally surprising lack of skill and finesse. Must've been hit harder than I thought... He blinked. Is that my trench-coat?!?
Wright, for it could be nobody else, was swinging his fists wildly. Every strike seemed to go wider than the last, leaving his stance weak and his core completely open to attack. All in all, only one thing kept the scene from being the most embarrassing example of how not to fight Miles Edgeowrth had ever witnessed - that was Wright's speed. Despite the inaccuracy of almost every attempted blow, the laws of probability dictated that at least a few would actually hit something.
It was over quickly. The two already injured men scampered for the street after one of Wright's lucky shots sent the third mugger flying ten feet into a dumpster at the back of the alley. Wright glanced at the form, ascertained that it was groaning and therefore still alive, before offering hand to the prone prosecutor. "You OK, Miles?"
"No." He took the hand and got unsteadily to his feet. "You could have arrived before they hit me."
Wright's balaclava moved as though he were raising his eyebrows behind the wool. "Actually, I couldn't have. I came because I smelled your blood."
If he were anyone else, Miles's jaw would probably have dropped. Instead, he settled for an incredulous look. "Smelled me? From where? My house is nowhere near here."
"A few streets away. I was taking a walk." Wright fiddled nervously with his sunglasses. "Well, a stalk actually. Being penned up makes me restless these days."
"Who were you stalking?" Miles tried to sound as conversational as possible as he dusted himself off.
Wright shrugged. "Nobody, really. Had to humor the predator instincts, don'tcha know?" His balaclava moved as though in a wry grin. "Well, maybe you don't. Anyway, I wasn't planning on doing any biting... just thinking."
"For once in your life," Miles muttered under his breath.
Suddenly, Wright's head jerked up as though he'd heard something. He turned, peering back into the darkness of the alley... out of which hurtled the last of the muggers. He looked wild, blood running from one corner of his mouth, and from somewhere he seemed to have produced a switchblade. He lunged at Miles with a fierce yell.
Wright moved like lightning, leaping forward and grabbing for the man. A flurry of motion, too fast for Miles to comprehend... and Wright had his fangs buried in the man's neck. He bit down, hard causing his victim to scream in a high-pitched wail. Wright twisted his head a little, and the man went limp.
Miles could only stare as the vampire dropped his victim, hands shaking, then leaned away and spat. "Disgusting. Some kind of drugs in his system..." He looked at the prosecutor, who stood openmouthed and staring. Quickly, the vampire knelt to check his victim, then bind the wound with gauze. "Don't worry, Miles. I hardly took any... he'll live. Miles?"
The grey-eyed persecutor wasn't staring at the fallen assailant. He was staring at the knife sticking out of Wright's ribs.
Wright's eyes followed his gaze.
"Oh..." He swayed. "Why didn't I notice that..?"
-----
Maya gazed around at the posse they'd assembled, feeling pleased with herself. There was Hannah, looking determined and clutching her purse. Seated beside her was Dick Gumshoe on the left and Larry Butz on the right (no wonder the woman looked nervous). Ema Skye had her notebook and pen, while Franziska had arrived carrying a large turquoise designer tote. It was a gallery of the people who cared about Miles Edgeworth... his friends, if only the man would allow them to be. Only Phoenix was missing, but he was the other person they were trying to rescue (Wendy Oldbag wasn't there either, but Maya seriously doubted that the prosecutor would thank them for bringing her).
"Listen closely, I do not wish to repeat myself." Franziska stood, looking regal as a queen and twice as intimidating. "From what Miss fey has reported to us, I believe I know what we're up against." She looked around, then smiled slightly. "I believe we have a vampire on our hands."
The dramatic pronouncement didn't have quite the effect Franziska was clearly anticipating. Larry burst out laughing, while Hannah and Maya exchanged glances. Gumshoe just looked blank, while Ema gave Franziska a disgusted look. "You do understand that vampires are a scientific impossibility, don't you?"
Franziska snarled something in German, (probably regardeing "foolish fools") and pulled something out of her bag, tossing it onto the table. It clattered across the wooden surface, coming to a halt as everyone stared at... a tooth necklace?
"My father was Manfred von Karma, a prosecutor. My mother, however, was the one of the Belmont line of Romania. Vampire hunters." She gestured at the grisly string of beads. "Those are the trophies of her battles, every one a perfect victory."
Ema slowly reached forward and picked up the object, its three-dozen ornaments clinking together like some obscene wind chime. She examined them closely, her eyes wide. "As far as I can tell without more advanced equipment... these are genuine. Exactly like human canines, only about twice as long." She touched a finger to one fang's point, and cut herself without even needing to press down.
"All the signs point to Vampire activity. A woman arrived at the Hotti Clinic a few weeks ago with bite marks on her neck and moderate blood loss. Mr. Phoenix Wright starts sporting marks on his neck and then mysteriously disappears... and now my brother also appears to have been bitten. But, just to be sure..." She turned to Hannah, who squeaked slightly under the glare of those turquoise eyes. "Has my brother been drinking sugar in his tea?"
"Uh... now that I think about it..." Hannah looked positively terrified as she scrabbled for an answer. "Yes! Normally he takes his tea black, but he's been demanding sugar these past few weeks."
"Common response to blood loss." Franziska's lip curled. "I suspect our leech might very well be feeding off my brother... probably holding that foolish defense attorney as a hostage to ensure his good behavior, too." She picked up her bag, placing it on the table and opening it wide. An assortment of stakes, crosses, and what looked like cloves of garlic were bared to view.
"Come on, it's time to hunt!"
_____
"OHHHHHMYGOD, Miles, that hurts!!"
"Quit squirming, Wright, I haven't even touched it yet. You didn't even flinch when you were stabbed!" The fair-haired man looked quite put-out at him, glaring down at the patient sprawled across his bed for the second time.
Phoenix glared back, face pale with pain. "That was because of the adrenaline rush. You'd be still, would you, if you got shivved in the ribs?"
Miles handed him a folded washcloth, which Phoenix gripped in his teeth. Reaching down with a look of extreme concentration, Miles yanked the blade out with one fluid motion. Phoenix arched, clenching his teeth until he felt the fabric under his fangs rip apart from the stress. The pain was excruciating, a terrible sharp burning altogether different from the bruised ache he'd had after falling five stories.
As the pain started to recede, he realized Miles was speaking. "Wha- what was that?"
"I said that I would have been very still if I was the one to be stabbed. Probably because I'd be dead." He leaned over and started binding Phoenix's wound with gauze, his fair hair was falling forward, obscuring his face. "When are you going to stop pulling stunts like this? You've been stabbed, tasered, poisoned, accused of murder twice, and tried to commit suicide via parking garage and chopstick!"
"M-Miles-" Phoenix didn't even know what he was going to say, but it didn't matter because the other man cut him off.
"How long before you actually get yourself killed? Do you have any regard for your own personal safety you moronic lackwit!?!?" Miles was warming to the subject, his voice rising in volume and pitch until it nearly cracked on the last word. He was glaring at Phoenix as he tied off the bandage with an angry yank on the knot.
Phoenix started to flush, glaring indignantly at the other man. "I didn't do any of those thing on purpose! Well... the attempted suicides maybe-- but I fail to se how any of the rest of it counts as 'stunts'. Besides, who are you to talk about being accused of murder?" He was yelling now, his face thrust in close to the other man's, their noses barely inches apart. "And as for being tasered? And getting stabbed? I was trying to save your life! Pardon me if the great Miles Edgeworth is too proud to owe his life to someone like me!!!"
"That's the whole problem!! DO YOU THINK I COULD LIVE IF YOU DIED FOR ME!?!?!"
"Well, you had better just-" Wait a second... "Wait, what did you say?"
-----
Yes, what did I just say? Had he meant it? Miles admittedly had no instant desire to retract the statement, though he did feel his anger dissipate from shock.
"I said that... that..."
"That you couldn't live if I..." Wright licked his lips as though they'd suddenly done dry. He gave a forced-looking smile. "Well, if it comforts you, I'm technically already dead. It wouldn't make much difference if-"
"Don't even joke about that, Wright." He was more nervous than he could ever remember being, not wanting to take anything back but terrified to go on, to say something wrong. Still, despite not even knowing what he was going to say next, he needed to keep talking. "You always treated me like a person... someone who deserved to live and be happy- no matter what I did to you or anyone else... When I thought I'd lost you today, I felt like I'd lost some... some vital part of myself."
"Wait, are you saying..." Wright was moving closer, until Miles could feel his breath like a breeze on his upper lip. "... What I think-"
Miles didn't even understand why the other man had cut off until he realized that his hand had moved to Wright's chin... and then he was moving the last few centimeters. Wright's lips on his were slightly cool, but not unpleasantly so, as they brushed against his.
Wright was still for a long moment, long enough to make Miles worry. If he'd thought about this, he would definitely have done it differently, not left himself so vulnerable...
Then Wright's hand was on the back of his head, pulling him closer and deeper into the kiss, and his regrets shattered like glass.
-----
It was Wright who broke the kiss, pulling away suddenly like he'd been stung.
"What's wrong?"OhgodwhatifImessedupit'snotasifI'veeverkissedanyonebeforeandIprobablydiditallwrong-
"L-Lesbians!" Wright blurted out.
All right, now I'm thoroughly confused... "Wright, are you insane?!? What are you talking about?"
"You can't be homosexual, what about th- those magazines?" When Miles looked blank, he elaborated. "Under your bed, blue box... ring any bells?"
Miles suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to hit his head against something. "You mean the turquoise steamer trunk labeled with the words: Miles Edgworth, open this and risk an extremely painful death? I'm keeping it for Franziska, you prying idiot! Why were you looking in there, anyway?"
Wright ruffled his hair, looking sheepish. I bet he didn't even get past my name, if he read the label at all. "I just- I've had feelings for you for a long time, but I wasn't sure if you liked men, let alone me. I just wanted to be sure..."
"So you break into my foster-sister's possessions. You really do have a deathwish."Why the hell am I finding this ridiculous idiocy so endearing? He leaned forward, hesitating slightly before he wrapped his arms around the other man.
Wright flinched at the contact. Miles pulled away, feeling somehow offended, before he looked down and saw that he'd been pressing right on the gauze over Wright's injury. The bandage had acquired a crimson tint as Wright's blood started to soak through it.
"Sorry, Wright, I forgot. Your blood levels... how are they?"
"Honestly?" Wright looked a little wan, but he smiled. "I'm not as bad off as that first time, but I did lose quite a bit- I'm pretty hungry."
Miles sighed and shrugged off his jacket. "And when were you planning on telling me this?"
"You seemed to be otherwise engaged- happily so, might I add." Wright got up and removed Miles's cravat while the prosecutor handled his shirt and vest. It was routine by now, a precaution against getting bloodstains on Miles's expensive clothes, but this time was different. Wright's hands took every opportunity to brush against his skin, and Miles was acutely aware of every time those cool fingers made contact with his neck.
When Miles had stripped to the waist, he wrapped his arms slowly around the other man's back (well above the stab wound) while Wright grasped the other man's shoulders, pulling him into a brief, chaste kiss. His lips moved slowly, starting from Miles's own and moving down the side of his face and neck until they reached the point halfway down where his pulse beat closest to the surface.
Trust. Being bitten by Wright was probably the closest Miles had ever come to physical intimacy... leaving himself completely in another person's hands. He knew that any of their sessions could result in his death- but the risk felt completely remote. I trust him with my life.
Wright bit down, sharp teeth sliding into flesh and skin. Miles cried out, loudly, as pain that he would never get used to stabbed through him. He felt the other man's grip tighten, almost in apology, but the pain had already receded to a bearable level. He squeezed back, reassuring. The pain held an almost sweet note to it, straddling the fine line between agony and ecstasy... leaving Miles to wonder whether he was a masochist or if Wright's fangs held some kind of chemical or drug. For some reason, he didn't care which one was the case.
Caught up as he was in thought and sensation, Miles didn't even notice the sound of people running towards his bedroom until the door crashed open.
"There he is, men! CHARGE!!!"
-----
Franziska had just unlocked the front door of her brother's home when she heard the yell. Miles's voice... god, don't let us be too late! She rushed forwards at the head of her small company, taking the stairs two at a time, and kicking open the door to her little brother's bedroom with one high-heeled foot.
The sight that met her eyes was terrifying. Her brother stood with his back to the door, blood matted in his hair, head thrown back. A tanned man, dark hair falling over his face like some ghoul from a japanese horror film, was sucking greedily at the red flow of blood dripping from her brother's neck.
A small thrill of pride filled Franziska when she spotted the bandage on the monster's side and the bloody knife on the bedside table. I knew my brother would put up a fight. Don't worry Miles, the cavalry has arrived.
"There he is, men! CHARGE!!!"
The vampire released his victim and tried to turn around, but Gumshoe and Butz were on him, grasping an arm each, just like Franziska had instructed. Ema and Hannah, armed with crosses and spray-cans of holy water, guarded the exits (window and door), while Maya waited in reserve with a stake in each hand and her sleeve-pockets filled with garlic.
The vampire was thrashing, and even two strong men were having trouble holding him. The creature was about to throw Gumshoe off completely when Franziska came up from behind, her whip encircling the monster's throat like a garotte and wrenching it back, provoking a horrible, inhuman scream as the sanctified leather burned into undead flesh.
Then Miss Fey was there, stake raised for the kill, mouth set in a determined line as she swung her arm up to deliver the blow that would destroy the beast, would set Mr. Wright and Miles free forever.
The foolish girl completely wasted her opening, howevber. She just stared at the vampire, mouth open in shock... and dropped the stake.
"What are you doing you foolish fool! Pick it up!!!" And the Franziska felt hands grip her wrists, yanking the whip up over the monster's head, removing the holy object that was the only thing keeping the monstrosity bound. She turned to face whoever had been so foolish as to put all their lives at risk... and found herself staring into her brother's face.
----
Phoenix gasped, the burning sensation at his throat was gone and he felt power surging back into his limbs. With a grunt of effort he shook himself, dislodging the attackers from both his arms as he ducked into a crouch. The way to the door was blocked by the smell of garlic, and both the door and window were guarded by crosses- even looking at the symbols made his eyes blur and tear... besides, the window led out into sunlight. So, the vampire did the only thing he could- heroically hide under the bed.
He cowered in the dark, his mind numbed by pain... the only thing he could see was Maya, clutching a stake with a terrifying expression on her face- like she didn't even recognize him.
----
Miles held Franziska's wrists as she desperately tried to free herself. He watched Wright flee under the bed. Good, now he's safe for the moment at least.
"Let go of me, you fool!" Franziska wriggled like an eel, much stronger than she looked. "We're trying to save your life!"
"My life doesn't need saving, Franziska!" Miles was yelling in her face, desperate to make her understand. The others in the room were quite still, watching the spectacle of the apparent victim chewing out his rescuer with wild abandon. "I was in no danger, it was perfectly consensual! What's wrong with you, breaking into my house and trying to strangle my guests?!?"
"You let it bite you? Miles you foolish fool, you were trained to hunt vampires just like I was- you know that monster's a threat to humanity!"
Miles snarled and pushed her away, before reaching under the bed and dragging Wright out by a wrist. "Franziska, take a good look at your 'threat to humanity'."
"Mister... Mister Phoenix Wright?"
-----
Phoenix was certain he'd been in more awkward situations, but he couldn't remember any offhand. He was sitting, shirtless and bandaged, in Miles Edgeworth's living room, surrounded by his friends who had all just tried to kill him.
I can smell it on them, they're afraid of me. He rubbed his finger along the rim of the shot-glass he was holding. Miles had caught the rest of the blood from the bite so as not to waste it, but he did not really want to drink it with the others watching.They're all staring at me, like I'm some kind of monster... except for Larry, of course.
Larry, desensitized, perhaps, by a steady diet of B horror films, was asking a rapid-fire stream of questions. "Can you really turn into a bat? Who bit you? Was it a hot vampire chick? Can I meet her? Do you have some kinda special power of hypnosis that can make the ladies fall in love with you? Can you teach me to do that??"
"Larry..."
"No, wait, if you could hypnotize people, you'd probably be sponging off some rich chick instead of Edgey..."
"Larry-"
"Though, Edgey is pretty loaded-"
"Larry! I can't do stuff like that, OK?" He looked down at his reflection in the liquid. "Being a vampire isn't as glamorous as it looks in Dawn of the Dead or whatever they're showing on the sci-fi channel these days."
"Dawn of the Dead's a zombie movie, pal." Gumshoe pointed out.
Phoenix frowned, "I didn't know you watched horror movies."
Maya sighed. "He doesn't need to. Everybody knows at least that much."
Well, pardon me for being culturally illiterate! He downed the glass of blood in a fit of pique.
"Mister Phoenix Wright?"
He nearly spat the blood across the room from shock as Franziska came up behind him. I didn't even hear or smell her! How does she do that? Swallowing and pretending he hadn't been surprised, he looked around at Miles and Franziska. "So, have you decided if you wanted to kill me yet?"
"My little brother has managed to convince me that you're no threat to humanity." Miles rolled his eyes behind her back, but she didn't seem to notice. "However, we have both agreed that it would be for the best if you went back to defense forthwith."
Phoenix made a face, and Maya saw it. "Don't you want to come back, Nick?"
"Of course I do! I just don't like having things dictated to me like I have no choice in the matter-"
Miles sighed and crossed his arms. "Wright, if you clean my bathroom one more time, the tile will deteriorate on a subatomic level. You need something to do."
"Hey, guys, I think Nick's wasted as a lawyer." Larry's face was lit up like that of a man who'd just had a brilliant idea... or like a nuclear reactor about to go boom. "You're super strong and everything, right? Why not be a superhero!"
The dramatic pronouncement didn't have quite the effect Larry was clearly anticipating. Maya and Ema looked blank, while Miles made a choking noise that could only be induced by the mental image of Phoenix in spandex.
"Larry, to be honest, I prefer practicing law." I've already been stabbed once, I don't like the idea of going through that kind of danger as an everyday thing.
Maya clapped her hands together. "Excellent! Now all we have to figure out is how to feed you, Nick!"
Miles's voice echoed Phoenix's puzzlement. "What on earth are you talking about? I'm already feeding him quite adequately-"
Ema interrupted. "It takes the human body eight weeks to replenish the amount of blood taken during a blood draw... and while I doubt you take nearly as much as that, it is highly doubtful that prosecutor Edgeworth will be able to sustain you on his own for any extended period of time without developing anemia. Therefore, the most prudent thing to do would be for us to take turns making donations."
There was silence for a moment, then everyone spoke up. "I'll do it, pal, but only as a favor." "Anything for a friend, Nick!" "Guys, count me in! ...It won't hurt, will it?" "I'll be expecting a raise for this, Mr. Edgeworth." "Well, if you fools are going to go around foolishly feeding vampires, I suppose I could donate." "This is a great opportunity for scientific research!"
A warm, fuzzy feeling rose up within Phoenix, caued either by the devotion of his friends or suddenly being faced with a virtual blood buffet. "Thank you so mu-"
"That's it, out of my house!"