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hangmans-girl · 1 year

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One Admiral's Daughter (Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Reader)

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Simpson!Reader

Summary: Of all the people in the bar, Bradley's eyes decided to set themselves on a forbidden fruit.

Warnings: Light cursing, sexual innuendos (but nothing happens really), fluff, sexual tension

Words: 4,107

Author's Note: I whipped this out of my brain the last minute because I thought that it has been months since I wrote and this has been in my drafts for as long as I can remember. I hope you like it :')

Damn, it's bitter. You thought as the warm remains of the vodka scratched your throat. You shoved the glass away from you as you stared at it with so much hate.

"What did the glass do, dear?" Penny asks as she places a cold glass of beer in front of you. You groaned as you leaned away from the counter.

"I'm bored, Pen. Why can't I just work for you?"

Penny smiles, "You know I can't hire you, that's an order from your Dad."

You rolled your eyes and sighed. Your dad always loved to ruin everything for you. You never know how he always knew what you were doing despite him being really busy with his work. Sometimes, you'd even think he had been sending someone to spy on you when he was not around. "Fine, I guess I'll just sit here and try not to go mad with boredom."

Penny ruffled your hair as she chuckles. "Silly, why don't you just go to your office or the base to kill your time?"

You shook your head. "First, office hours are 'till 1 pm only, and second, Dad's office is too quiet for me. The Hard Deck is literally the only place that's keeping me sane, Pen."

"Well, what about you go dancing now since it's almost 7pm and customers are already flooding in? Maybe you could get yourself a dance partner or something."

You grimaced. "No, thanks. I'd rather stay here and keep myself company."

"See? You won't even lift your butt out of that chair," She shakes her head, "I'll go take some orders now. Ring me up when you need more." She adds as she tapped the side of your beer mug.

You smiled at Penny before drinking from your beer again. It's going to be a long night.

"Hey, Rooster. Check her out," Payback elbows Rooster on the stomach as Rooster looks at where he was pointing.

"I love me a woman in red." Payback adds as he continues to look respectfully at the girl on a red sundress by the bar counter.

Rooster shrugged. "What about it?"

"What do you mean what about it, man? She's hot."

"How do you know that? You haven't even seen her face." Rooster punches his friend's chest lightly before looking in the girl's direction again. This time, the girl was already facing their direction, talking to a stranger with a beautiful smile on display.

Rooster forgot to breathe for a second. "What about now?" Payback asks Rooster as if he'd sensed his friend's sudden change of heart.

"You wanna know what I think?"Rooster asks, eyes still on the girl, "Hold my beer." He shoves his beer mug onto Payback's chest as he made his way to the stage.

"Oh, come on, man! I don't like where this is going." Payback groans as he saw Rooster grab a microphone.

Rooster then made his way to the jukebox to type in a song. "Trust me, Payback, " He says as the song starts, tapping Payback's chest before making his way toward his target. "This is how you get a girl."

As you drank your second beer of the night, you suddenly felt a hand on your shoulder. "Excuse me, miss," You turned to see who it was and saw an unfamiliar man with a mustache who had a Hawaiian shirt on with a white tank top underneath.

Your brows furrowed in confusion when another man shoved him aside. "I'm sorry, miss. He's just drunk--" His words got cut off when the mustached-man shoved him aside as well.

"I've never seen you looking so lovely as you did tonight, I've never seen you shine so bright," He sings, stepping much closer to you. You chuckled, looking around as you saw people gather around your space to watch him sing.

"I've never seen so many men ask you if you wanted to dance, They're looking for a little romance, given half a chance, and I have never seen that dress you're wearing or the highlights in your hair that catch your eyes, I have been blind;" He continues, as he points at you accompanied with his dramatic gestures as he sang.

You continued watching him sing since he had a wonderful voice to begin with and people started to sing with him. He then grabs a rose from a bouquet he saw at a random table, handing them to you before he concluded his song.

You gladly accepted the rose from him as he smiled in victory, mindlessly handing the microphone to his friend from earlier. "You've got a nice voice, do you sing like that to every woman you see?"

Rooster chuckles as he pulls a seat for himself. "Just the pretty ones."

"Well, how many were they?"

"Just one."

"Oh, so that makes me the second one?"

"No, the first one. I've never actually done this before," He laughs, grabbing a beer from the counter as he drank on it. "Y'know, It's crazy how I went through that just to get your name." He adds, making you giggle in response.

"You could've just asked," You shrugged, extending your hand toward him. "I'm (Y/N) Simpson."

You saw him wince at your response. "What's wrong?" You asked.

"Nothing, it's just...I've never thought of the chances of me dealing with another Simpson for today, you know?"

You tilted your head in curiosity. "Oh, you could tell me about it."

"Over beer?" He asks as he places an empty bottle on the counter. You grabbed him another cold one and placed it right in front of him. "Yup, over beer."

He muttered a small thanks as he drank before speaking. "Well, we have this superior officer at work who can be insufferable at times. Last time, he made us train 'till the wee hours of the night and uhm...I'd love to tell you more, but I think I've stressed out how much of a jerk he can be sometimes."

You leaned back against your chair and shook your head. "That sucks, like what are they? a god or something?"

"Of the Navy I suppose, he's an Admiral." He replies, making everything make sense to you.

"So, I take it that you're from the Navy." He nods. "So, you're a pilot?" You asked as he nods again, making you smile mischievously. You realized that he was actually talking about your Dad so you decided to get the whole gossip from him without him suspecting anything.

"You know what? Tell me more about this Admiral Simpson. Get it out of your chest." You encouraged him as you leaned closer to listen more carefully. He didn't seem to realize what you were doing so he continued to speak ill about your Dad the whole night.

There were times that you agreed with what he said since your dad was a bit annoying, and there were times that you'd laugh at their experiences during their training. Overall, the night became less boring when Bradley stepped in.

"So, this is it, huh? When can I see you again?" He asks as he leans his arm beside your waist, his height towering over your seated figure.

You tilted your head as you smiled at him. "I think we'll be seeing each other more often, Bradley. You can count on it." You winked at him before pushing him away gently by his chest, leaving the bar and leaving him wanting more.

The next day, you decided to spend the rest of your day at your dad's office since you just got off of work and The Hard Deck was still closed. "You could've just stayed home, (Y/N)." Your dad says as he busies himself with his paperwork.

You sat on his guest couch as you reached for the hidden stash of fashion magazines underneath his wooden center table. "It's too boring at home, dad. I promise to be on my best behavior here." You replied as you flipped the colorful pages of the magazines.

"You better be." He adds before he calls his assistant. "Yes, sir?"

"Call Lieutenant Bradshaw and Lieutenant Seresin to my office."

The assistant then leaves as you looked at your dad. "Are they gonna be here for long, dad?"

He looks up at you for a brief second before he flips the pages of his paperwork. "No, I just have to tell them something. I don't want to hear any word from you over there, am I clear?"

You rolled your eyes as you grinned wickedly, giving your dad a small salute. "Yes, sir."

As you scanned the pages of your magazine, you found an interesting read about bags, practically hiding half of your face with your magazine. You heard the door open as you saw two large figures enter the room through your peripheral vision.

"Well, gentlemen. I just want to tell you that you have done a good job on this mission," You heard your dad say as you continued to read, not minding their praise stories about some mission.

"And of course, there will be another special training detachment that both of you and the rest of the Dagger Team will execute. It will take place 3 weeks from now and I'll have Maverick relay the rest of the details of this mission. For now, I want both of you to lead the team in exercises."

"Yes, sir!" They replied in unison, making you look up at them in irritation.

Your irritation suddenly turned into fascination as you saw who it was. Bradley. He was standing upright and proper in front of your father on his flight suit. You grinned as you closed the magazine you were reading, propping your head on your hand as you crossed your legs in the process.

Oh, how you couldn't wait to see the look on his face when he notices you. As your father dismissed them, they turned in your direction to head to the door and Bradley stopped in his tracks when he spotted you.

You swiftly glanced at your dad who was currently busy signing his paperwork before turning your eyes toward him again as you waved at him and gave him a smile. A flash of realization washed over him as he walked out of the office with heavy footsteps.

Bradley looked like he had seen a ghost as he walked away from the Admiral's office. "Hey, Bradshaw. What's wrong with you?" Hangman asks, snapping him out of his thoughts.

Instead of answering, Bradley only shakes his head before he continues to walk away from Hangman. He couldn't believe it. He just couldn't believe that he was talking shit about the Admiral to the person who turned out to be his superior officer's daughter.

He mentally punched himself as he headed to the ready room before slumping himself on the couch to sulk the whole afternoon. The last thing he wanted was to ruin his career by dallying with an Admiral's daughter.

You, on the other hand, asked permission from your Dad to go out and get some fresh air. You actually just wanted to roam the corridors and explore the whole base without your dad appointing someone to chaperone you all throughout your exploration.

You still grinned at Bradley's reaction when he saw you at your dad's office. Where could he be right now? You thought, peeking at every room you passed by, hoping to see him at least.

You saw a room in the corner with a half-opened door. You headed straight to it before peeking inside. Your lips curled up in a smile as you quietly pushed the door open upon realizing who was in the room.

"So, Lieutenant Bradshaw, huh?" You spoke as you closed the door behind you, making him get up from the couch as he looks at you in shock.

"What are you doing here?"

You placed a hand on your chest and acted as if you were offended by his question. "What am I doing here? Am I not allowed to visit a friend?" With your emphasis on friend, he cleared his throat before he stood from the couch.

"Look, last night was a mistake. I didn't mean all of that." He stutters as you make your way toward him slowly with your arms crossed on your chest.

"Even the part that you found me pretty?"You whined, making him sigh in return as you giggled at his reaction. "We both know that it wasn't a mistake, but don't worry. I won't tell on you," You added as you took some steps back to lean on the door to block the exit.

"Good. Because that won't happen again." He says as he walks in your direction. You stood your ground on the door as you continued to stare at his towering figure.

"You're leaving? So soon?" You knitted your eyebrows together as you looked up at him with an innocent doe-eyed look.

Bradley sighs in frustration as he ran his hand through his hair. "Please move away from the door, miss." He says, making you pout at the sudden honorifics.

You sighed as you trailed your hand up his chest, tracing your fingers on the patches of his fight suit as he looked at you with dark, brooding eyes. "Why don't you make me, Lieutenant?"

He closed his eyes as he clenched his jaw before grabbing your wandering hand on his chest. "It's best if you leave me alone, miss. It would be better for the both of us." He says before pushing you gently aside as he hurriedly exits the room.

It has been like that for months. Bradley ignoring you and you trying to get his attention. You would even show up in your dad's office in a sundress on a daily basis, the ones that your dad had claimed "had a shortage of fabric", but you didn't care. The moment Bradley saw you on it, you knew how it affected him since he couldn't take his eyes off you when you roamed around the base.

It was starting to frustrate you when you couldn't get him to look at you or even talk to you. Sometimes, you'd even follow him around just to coax a reaction from him or get him to talk, but he always acted like you weren't there.

One day, you've decided that you've had enough of his indifference and devised a plan to corner him.

"Lieutenant Bradshaw, Admiral's office, now." Bradley heard the assistant say as he leaves the ready room to head to the Admiral's office. When he arrived, the door was wide open, and he proceeded to enter the room.

He sat on the chair in front of the Admiral's table. The Admiral wasn't there or in any corner of his office. His brows knitted in confusion before he heard the door close and the lock click. He turned back and saw you walking towards him with a sultry smile.

"The Admiral's not here. He's on sick leave, but I promised to take care of things that I can handle." You said, moving your dad's name plaque to the side before hopping to sit on the table as you crossed your legs, revealing an ample amount of skin in Bradley's view.

"Why did you call me here? Do you have any idea what you're doing?"He stands as he glanced at the door as if he was afraid of someone walking in on both of you.

"Relax, I locked it." You giggled. "Besides, what do you think I'm doing? I called you here to ask you about something," You tilted your head at him. "Unless you thought---" Bradley quickly cut your words off with his.

"I wasn't thinking that!" He retorted almost too quickly.

You sighed before waving your hand in front of his face to dismiss the unruly topic. "Enough of that. Why have you been ignoring me, Bradley? I've been talking to you for months now but you're always acting like I'm not there."

"I'm not obligated to talk to you, miss." He replies curtly, making you gasp.

"After all we've been through--"

"We've been through nothing, okay? Because we were never friends nor lovers. I don't know what you've planted in your mind to make you even think that we had something." He said. You hopped off the table as you took a step closer to him.

"You know what? You're such a jerk." You spat before leaving the room in a haste, heading home to drown yourself in tears and in vodka.

Bradley stood there as he composed himself, internally applauding himself for holding himself back and mentally punching himself for saying those things to you.

These past few months, Bradley had been trying to avoid you since he didn't want to spark an issue that he was interested in an Admiral's daughter. Even with your advances towards him, he was holding on to his patience for dear life not to drag you inside of a room and ravish you.

He just couldn't, he can't risk his career for this. Knowing Admiral Simpson's character, he personally wouldn't let it slide if he found out about Bradley's feelings for his daughter. Keeping that in mind gave him somewhat of a reason not to even touch a single strand of your hair.

Two weeks passed and Bradley's mind was a mess. You stopped coming over to your Dad's office and you weren't at the bar, too. He started to wonder where you might be. His wonders managed to get in the way of his training as well and it caught Maverick's attention.

He approached Bradley who was sitting on the couch with his head on both of his palms. "Hey, Brad. Talk to me. What's going on with you?" Maverick sits beside him as he places his hand on Bradley's back.

"I'm fine, Mav. Don't worry about it." He says, running both of his hands through his hair before burying his face in his palms again.

"I wouldn't be asking if you are. You've been distracted during training for a while now. Talk to me, what's going on?"

Bradley sighs. "I...I kind of got involved with someone."

Maverick's eyes widened. "You got someone pregnant?"

"No, I didn't. God, Mav." Bradley groans as Maverick sighs in relief. "Oh, thank god. Then who did you got involved with?"

"(Y/N)."

"Well, she seems to be a nice girl. What's the problem?"

"Well, the problem is, she's Admiral Simpson's daughter. I can't get involved with an Admiral's daughter."

To Bradley's surprise, Maverick burst out laughing. Bradley looked at him in confusion. "You know, you might not be my son, but you sure take after me, too."

"What does that mean?"

Maverick calms himself before speaking. "Well, back in my prime, I was involved with an Admiral's daughter, too. It didn't get me in any sort of trouble like what you currently have in mind, but it did appear on my record."

"Your point is?"

Maverick taps Bradley's shoulder. "The point is, you might be worrying for nothing. It's not like you have plans on hurting the Admiral's daughter, right?"

Bradley shakes his head in response. "I don't, but it can hurt my career, Mav."

"Well then, you pick. Pursue the girl with clean intentions and be happy with her or be a mess like this forever and be the one to hurt your career because you wouldn't be able to think straight anymore."

"Are you saying I should risk it?"

"Well, if you're fine with waiting for 30 years to take her dad out of the picture, then don't risk it."

Bradley chuckles. "30 years? Who the hell waits that long, Mav?"

Maverick shrugged. "I did." Bradley leans back in surprise. "You know who the Admiral's daughter is?"

"No way.."

"That's right, It's Penny Benjamin." Maverick smiles to himself as he looks at Bradley.

"There's no way I'm going to wait that long, Mav." Bradley stands from his seat as Maverick did, too. "Go for it, son." He tapped Bradley's shoulder before Bradley ran out of the ready room, thinking about the places you might be at the moment.

Good thing he knew just where to look.

You brushed your hair as you looked at yourself in the mirror. Was I not attractive enough? You thought. You didn't really know what to think at the moment. You did everything in your power to get him, but he didn't want to.

You sighed as you rolled your eyes and thought that it was his loss anyway. While you were deep in your thoughts, you heard a loud thump on your balcony as you were brushing your hair.

You quickly grabbed something random from your dresser as you stood up, making your way toward the curtained balcony. You gasped in horror when a tall, broad, hooded man pushed the curtains aside and made himself known before you.

You threw the thing you were holding toward him, which turned out to be a wooden hairbrush, that hit him on the head. "Ow, what was that for?" The mysterious man winced in pain.

Your brows creased in confusion. That voice, it's familiar.

"W-Who are you and what the hell are you doing here?!"You asked, grabbing your unplugged hair straightener as you pointed it at him. The man pushed his hoodie back and revealed who he was.

It was Bradley.

However, since you were still furious with him, you threw the thing you were holding at him anyway. This time, he was able to dodge it as he looked at you with a baffled expression. "What the hell are you doing in my room and how did you even get past the guards?"

Bradley shrugged. "I have my ways," He took a step closer as he sighed. "I'm here to talk to you."

"There's nothing to talk about, okay? You made it perfectly clear that I meant nothing to you---"

"Okay, I didn't mean it, okay? I didn't mean all of it. I just...I was scared that maybe you're just flirting with me and I didn't want to risk my career for nothing, but I really can't stop thinking about you. You keep messing with my head and--"

You crossed your arms, leaning beside the intercom in your room. "Do you really expect me to believe that?"

Bradley sighed as he pointed at the balcony. "I think I've proven myself well enough, considering the fact that I could've died down there in the hands of your guards."

"It's not my fault you snuck in like a thief," You said as you pushed yourself away from the wall, making your way toward him. "Is that all you have to say for yourself?" You added, trailing your hand up his chest to his nape, making him look down at you.

"Well, I..uh..I want to ask you out on a date.." He mindlessly said as he drowned himself in your eyes. God, you were beautiful. He thought.

"That was the lamest thing I've ever heard." You giggled before pulling him in for a deep kiss. He pulled you in, gripping your waist for dear life.

The kiss was passionate and all that both of you didn't notice that the door suddenly opened, revealing your dad and his fuming disposition. You immediately broke the kiss and gently pushed Bradley away as both of you composed yourselves.

"What. is. the. meaning. of. this?!"

Your eyes widened at your dad's exasperated question as you looked at Bradley. "I must've accidentally pressed the intercom button earlier."

"It's okay, I'll talk to him." He gave you a small smile before you sighed and cursed yourself.

"You, young man. Out. You're going to explain yourself in detail how and why the hell are you in my house and why on earth would you even dare touch my daughter." Bradley nodded slightly as he walked towards the door.

"Dad--"

"You stay out of this, (Y/N). I'll talk to you later." Your dad said with finality in his voice, slamming your door shut.

You sighed as you bit your lip, remembering the kiss from earlier,

What an idiot, he could've just went straight to the entrance and talked to your dad. Instead, he settled with the thought of sneaking in the Admiral's home; worse, inside the Admiral's daughter's room and was caught red-handed.

You smiled at his idiotic ways and laid in your bed, thinking about what could happen to Bradley.

Surely, he wouldn't be subjected to any torture or any sorts of punishment.

This arrangement was bound to happen anyway whichever ways he could have done it.

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the-bar-sinister · 12 days

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In Justice We Trust (126233 words) by thesavagesabretooth

catch up here.

With Simon Blackquill and Athena Cykes assigned as their psychologists, the Phantom and Fulbright must grapple with their identity, their deeds, their future, and their love for the twisted samurai whom they betrayed.

All the while, Edgeworth and Wright find their relationship tested as they walk the narrow path between pursuing real justice, and the dark age of the law.

December 25, 12:55 pm

It was Apollo Justice.

He was wearing a long red coat that she vaguely remembered shoving in his suitcase, and a black shirt and vest. He absolutely radiated anger– but the quiet kind– like the low warmth of the dying embers of a once roaring fire.

Athena sunk into her chair with the intention to vanish into a ball before he could see her, the simmering anger flickering through her own emotions and leaving her feeling coiled and nervy as Edgeworth.

"Well, you've found me," Edgeworth nodded. He sighed deeply. "I was hoping to speak with you today. Frankly– I was hoping to speak with you yesterday. But things happened the way they happened. I won't make excuses. Would you like me to dismiss Ms. Cykes?"

"Huh?" Apollo's attention abruptly snapped to her– he hadn't noticed her before. "Oh. Hey. Athena."

She stifled the keening sound she wanted to make, before putting on her mask’s best smile “Hey Apollo! You look..”

She looked him over, again. “Love the new look! Haha..” she was still half scrunched in the chair.

"Thanks for packing for me," he said dully. He took off the coat and threw it over as he sat down at the table. "She can stay– assuming you want to talk, Athena."

Athena’s smile took on a nervous grimace, her fingers digging into the cloth of her pants…pants still smudged with ashes from the scene of the crime.

“You’re welcome, hah…su-sure. I’ll stay. I’m great at talking, you know that!”

"One of the best." Apollo smiled tightly. His emotions were an intense tangle behind the coals of his anger. He took a breath. "Alright, so. Anything you want to say, Mr. Edgeworth? Cause I've got a hell of a lot I'd like to say."

Edgeworth took his glasses off and set them on the table. Sadness and anxiety were written in his tone. "Absolutely yes, Mr. Justice. The first thing I'd like to say is I'm sorry. Deeply sorry. My failure to keeping you in the loop of information was inexcusable."

Athena took a deep breath as she shifted back up in her seat and folded her hands on her lap. At the very least…maybe she could direct the emotions of the room towards a better end than if she was gone.

"Yeah," Apollo huffed. He took another steadying breath, as Athena felt the tumult in his heart roil again. "I'll say it was pretty damned inexcusable. –thank you for apologizing at least, I guess."

"I owe you a great deal more than an apology," Edgeworth murmured. "But it's all that I can offer right now– aside from answering your questions and bringing you into the loop now."

"Good because there's a lot of points I'm real unclear on."

There was something odd about Apollo's tone. Maybe it was just how angry he was– how angry he'd been– all the grief and anguish that still flashed back and forth within him, but it wasn't sitting right with Athena.

Athena frowned…and quietly turned Widget’s display onto the mood matrix. For the moment, she didn’t interrupt, only listening…at least until she knew how to start.

"I imagine so," Edgeworth nodded. "I'm told you had an altercation in the dining hall this morning– I assume because you discovered that the espionage agent formerly known as Bobby Fulbright was there."

"Yeah. I sure did." He took another breath. "I got… pretty upset about it. I'm sorry to say."

The mood matrix was registering– a lot, really. Practically every emotion except happiness. But they kept juttering up and down.

Athena’s brow knit, but she kept her emotions steady as she looked up at Apollo again.

She’d known Apollo for a little while by that point, and his emotions had never been like this. Grief was one thing…but this was something else entirely.

Something she only saw in the strongest discord…or in the erratic not-so-final confrontation only a few days ago.

"I can understand you getting upset. It's upsetting. I had wanted to tell you in private, but things got away from me. That's my fault, and I harmed you by it," Edgeworth acknowledged. He was quite the diplomat– it was clear why he'd been made chief prosecutor.

"Thanks, Mr. Edgeworth, for acknowledging that." There was a flicker of a positive emotion on the mood matrix chart– relief, satisfaction?-- but it was immediately swallowed up by another one of anger. It was like his emotions were pingponging back and forth.

"It must have been a shock. Since the Phantom was reported dead. Unfortunately– that was part of our own espionage operation of a sort. With the intent to chase down the man's former organization."

"I get that but–" he started plaintively, but abruptly his tone, and the whole direction of his sentence changed. "So because you need him, you just let him have his job back? A murderer? The guy who killed–" He stopped, biting back the rest of whatever he was going to say.

Athena was getting a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. This abrupt, violent shaking back and forth of emotions….the sudden shifts in tone and direction…the way he seemed almost at war with his own emotions, stopping his own sentences and veering off elsewhere…

It was familiar.

She’d seen it recently in a different form.

“Apollo…”

He didn't respond quite immediately– as if it took him a moment to remember to.

He turned toward her. "Yeah, Athena?"

She took a deep breath.

“I know you’re upset…but would you mind if I suggested a little therapy?”

Apollo looked uncomfortable, and she could see his emotions warring back and forth with themselves on the screen.

Finally he shrugged. "If I say no, then you're going to think I really need therapy, aren't you?" He sighed. "You're right– I am upset. I feel like I have a right to be."

“Of course you do. He took something from you that you can never get back…” She tapped the screen to focus in on him.

“And here he is, back in his old job. It’s got to be difficult..right?” Even if she didn’t feel the same way– even if she couldn’t be angry at him– even if she found herself understanding and understood by the self-described ‘abyss’ who was anything but…

She knew the usual instinct of the human psyche was anger and hurt in the face of grief and death.

“But the problem is you’re…” she took a deep breath. “you’re of two minds about it, Apollo. Or rather…you have multiple distinct emotional threads running concurrently and butting up against one another…the evidence is there, how you keep interrupting yourself…and how you keep rapidly changing tracks of conversation. You did the same thing when I had to physically get in your way to stop you from hitting the detective.”

Edgeworth was letting the two of them talk. The chief prosecutor sat back, watching and listening, reminding Athena a little of the judge in court.

"I'm of two minds about it," Apollo repeated. She watched his emotions flicker and flash again. "Yeah, okay. I'm not going to deny that. Feelings are complicated."

“Very complicated, Apollo,” Athena said carefully. “but the mood matrix is registering a lot of erratic discord. So…how about you tell me what’s on your mind? How do you feel about Halblicht’s presence here? The guy who killed….” she gestured. “Lay it all out.”

"I don't…" he shifted uncomfortably. "I don't really want to talk about it. I'm.. upset. I'm hurt. I'm– I'm really fucking pissed about it, okay?"

Athena’s eyes stayed on the mood matrix “You’re my friend, Apollo.” she said quietly “I won’t pry if you really, really don’t want me to. You just seem like you’re struggling.”

‘Struggling alone’ was in debate at the moment.

"Yeah," he admitted, hanging his head. "I don't know what to do, Athena. I don't– I feel like my whole life's been thrown into chaos, Athena. Like I don't even know up from down any more. One minute I'm angry, the next I'm crying. And the next I'm just…. fine. Like usual. I'm just– I'm falling apart. I'm sorry, Mr. Edgeworth, I know you wanted to count on me but I feel like I'm clinging onto a cliff by my fingernails, trying not to get sucked into hell."

Miles held up his hands. "Please, Apollo, don't apologize to me. I'm the one who should apologize to you– and even more profusely than before."

The mood matrix reflected Apollo's words. He was truthful about his feelings.But they were all over the place. And underlying them was a strong current of anxiety that he had yet to acknowledge at all.

“It’s been a destabilizing few days, Apollo…I know that, I’m dealing with all the memories of the night my mother died…” She smiled at him despite the air of turmoil. “It’s natural to feel confused, lost and adrift in your own emotions. But you’ve got people who’ll keep you from falling into hell. Promise…”

She took a deep breath “on that note, there’s something else… a strong note of anxiety that pervades everything you’re saying…”

The anxiety flicked higher– his eyes widened and he looked for a brief moment like a cornered animal before he composed himself.

He looked over at Edgeworth. "Sir, I– I have more I want to talk to you about. More questions– but could you give me a moment alone with Athena?"

The prosecutor nodded gravely, and gathered up his papers, shutting them in his briefcase. "Of course, Apollo. Again, I'm so sorry to have asked so much of you, and to have wronged you the way I did. Please come see me in my room and I'll explain all the details, and answer any questions you have."

Apollo managed a shaky smile, but there was no joy in it. "Sure, see you in a few."

He nodded, and headed toward the exit. "Ms. Cykes– there's nothing more I needed to say that's so urgent it can't wait til tomorrow, but my door is open to you, too, if you need anything."

Athena gave Miles a timid smile, nodding her head. “Of course…we’ll finish catching up soon , sir. Thanks for the talk.”

With that, she typed a few commands into the mood matrix and prepared herself.

Edgeworth quietly saw himself out of the room and closed the door behind him. Apollo's hands were shaking on the tabletop, and he took deep, slow breaths that didn't seem to calm him down any. His leg was restlessly bouncing up and down under the table– a nervous tic she'd never seen him do before, until a few days prior.

It was another piece of data she added to the mood matrix, the sinking pit in her stomach opening all the wider.

“Apollo…?”

He snapped his gaze back up to her, and took one more breath. "Yeah. So… you asked about that anxiety…"

“Yeah, I did…it’s been pretty constant since I started analyzing your emotions.”

He swallowed, laying his shaking hands flat on the table.

"Athena– I'm worried I'm going crazy. Like– like really actually crazy. I keep– I keep hearing his voice. And sometimes it feels like he's the one doing things and I'm just watching. And he's so angry…"

Athena listened carefully, glancing down at the mood matrix, before looking up at Apollo again.

“You hear his voice? And sometimes it’s like he’s in control, and you’re the passenger?”

Apollo looked away. "Sorry. I shouldn't say things like that. I mean, not literally. It's just the grief talking."

The mood matrix was suddenly blasted with distortion.

“Ahh!” Athena quickly tapped at it. “Apollo…”

She took a deep breath before she leaned forward. “I believe you. And I don’t think you’re crazy…I think it might be more than just grief. I’ve seen this recently, something very similar at least.”

He looked back toward her cautiously. His eyes were dark, and stormy. "What do you mean?"

“This sort of emotional response. This sort of division…and ah, this sort of ‘hearing a dead man’s voice in your head’.” she brushed her fingers over the mood matrix. “Whatever the source of it, it’s no less real as far as your experiences, and the data does line up…look at the way your mood matrix splits…”

He scooted his chair over, and looked at the data. "It's weird looking at my own mood matrix like that– makes me feel like I'm a suspect or something."

His emotions shifted and shuttered on the screen even as he spoke and watched.

Athena chuckled softly. “No, she’s in custody right now. you missed the show.” She bumped his shoulder against his with a gentle smile “but look at it…see what I mean? It’s not the same as when we see discord in the courtroom.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. "Sorry about that, missing it. I– I went to talk to Klavier. I wish I could say it helped. But– yeah. I see what you mean."

“Oh yeah…he’s here for a commercial.” She rubbed her neck in an unconscious mirror of his own movements. “Anyway, it’s alright. I’ll fill you in later, it’s…a lot. It actually has some to do with some of the stuff I’ve been meaning to tell you about …about Halblicht.”

She shook her head. “but a-anyway! I’ve seen this sort of division before…and it turned out in that case to really be the presence of two distinct personas in one mind.”

He jerked backwards. "Athena, I know I said I felt like I was going crazy but I was really hoping you wouldn't confirm it!"

“It could be a ghost?” Athena offered with a lopsided smile. “...but in all seriousness, even if it was something cognitive it doesn’t make you ‘crazy’. It’s just a thing that is. The real issue is his anger…it’s driving you to violence and erratic decisions, so we’d have to find a way to soothe it and bring some harmony to your mental state. Ease the discord.”

"A ghost– hah– you're the second person who said that to me," he said, looking at the table. "Trucy said Pearl thought I was possessed…."

“It is a legal precedent, admittedly. We’ve both like, met the girl who’s trial it was in. Personally.”

"That's… true," he said slowly. "But– not to be mean but– they're kind of religious fanatics, you know? I won't speak to the legal precedent but, it's a lot to swallow. Even if I want to believe it."

“I think Miss Iris is lapsed…” she paused for a moment to rub her chin “lapsed…can you lapse at being a spirit medium? Either way I wouldn’t call her a fanatic…and they got footage of it in the archives!”

She shook her head. “But all of that’s not the point…maybe it is real…maybe it’s not. You can talk to Pearl about it I’m sure. But either way there’s clearly something happening , Apollo. If you’re hearing Clay…I believe you. But you need to address this, or his anger’s going to tear you apart. Okay?”

He nodded, and his hair fell over his eyes. "I know. It's hard because he wants to be angry. He feels justified in being angry, and I.. I feel angry on his behalf too. But it's so much. I don't want to lash out and hurt people….. he's quiet now. I think talking about it scares him."

“I promise I’m not trying to banish him or anything like that.” Athena promised “...I just want to help. He’s justified in being angry, I believe he’s angry…It’s…just complicated.”

"If I'm honest, he was kind of pissed you defended the Phantom this morning. I'm just… confused, Athena. I'm really confused. And I think that's why it's easy to let him make decisions. Because I don't feel like I know what the hell is going on."

Athena ran her hand through her hair with a subtle frown. “

...he can be pissed at me if he wants, but I wouldn’t change my decision..” she shook her head. “...you feel lost, and he’s got his anger, so it’s easier to let him make decisions. It makes sense..” She bit her lip ‘would it help if I explained some of what’s been happening with me? For context on what happened this morning.”

"Maybe? I mean, I want to know. It just seems so insane to me. He– he killed your mom, Athena. I know it was a long time ago, but, if somebody did something like that to me, I don't think I could ever forgive them."

Athena twisted her ponytail around her hand.

“It’s not like I’m not upset…or that the grief is any further away. I didn’t remember any of it until a few days ago, and I can see it clear as day when I close my eyes.”

She watched Apollo’s mood matrix instead of his face. “I just can’t find it in my heart to be angry at Robert for it. It doesn’t register…especially now that I understand..” she paused, omitting her admission that she understood the phantom and replacing it– “where he came from.”

"Where did he come from?" Apollo asked earnestly. She could see the anger burbling up in his mood matrix, despite it being hidden in his voice. "What could possibly be enough to override all that– everything he did, Athena?"

Athena noted the shift in tone and word choice with a tap on the Mood Matrix.

She took a deep breath. If Apollo was going to be her co-counsel, he had to know. “The organization that the phantom and our new custody..our client, Number 24…the girl who’d killed and replaced Agent Kelso, are from, didn’t hire them. It made them.”

She brushed her fingers together in a nervous gesture, frowning as she did. Widget flashed a deep blue upon her chest before she spoke again. “The Phantom was a child in a training facility that did all it could to beat the personality and emotion out of their assets, and turn them into the sorts of people who could wear any face, anywhere, for their purposes. They weren’t allowed to have names, or preferences, or opinions. They turned humans into tools, Apollo. Expendable.

The Phantom didn’t have any malice when he killed my mother, or Clay…he didn’t want to, but he never had a choice in anything his whole life until now.”

"That's…" Apollo stammered. "You're kidding– right? That's just a lie? That can't be true."

On the mood matrix his emotions were going haywire again.

Athena watched the emotions carefully.

“It’s true, Apollo. I’ve had extensive interviews with him and I’m comfortable saying it’s the truth. Not only that…but ‘Number 24’, our client, mirrors him in a lot of ways. I’m certain we’ll get a similar story out of her.”

She placed her hand on his shoulder in an attempt to calm him “that’s the sort of organization we’re hunting.”

"But that's… no. He's– he's evil James Bond," Apollo faltered and Athena watched his emotions war with one another, sadness and anxiety spiking, then anger, then back again. "It's spy business isn't it? Not spy slavery! Who would come up with something like that? That can't be–"

“Apollo…Clay?” Athena bit her lip. “You saw his emotional matrix at the trial, didn’t you? It wasn’t as if he had no emotions. It wasn’t a natural state. They were there, but beaten down into something the organization could use. Everything in my therapy sessions has been consistent with this, and I believe him when he tells me about his past.”

She took a deep breath. “But evidence is everything, right? If our client can be convinced to talk, would you accept her testimony? You have no personal stake with her, no grudge because of an unfair death, and she has no reason to lie.”

Apollo– or probably Clay– shuddered bodily, like an involuntary spasm and gripped the table. He took a heaving breath. "Alright– alright. Yeah. Evidence. If the… client… confirms it the I– I'm not going to forgive him, but I won't. –I don't think I can be angry about it if it was something like that."

“Good…” Athena smiled gently. “I’ll see if we can arrange a talk with her…she’s under supervision right now by Interpol b-because she attempted to execute herself the moment she was caught.”

She felt the prickle of anxiety and horror up her back as she remembered the spiking emotions and the gun once more.

“But I think we’ll be allowed…and if it helps your anger, good. You don’t need to forgive him, neither of you. You just–I just want everyone to understand what we’re dealing with here.”

He leaned backward, and crossed his arms– more like he was putting them around himself again like she'd seen before. "She tried to kill herself? That's… some dedication…"

Hugging himself, or…something similar. It made sense if what she had gleaned from his emotional state was right.

“Immediately. When they tried to tell her to stand down, she told us that Halblicht knew it wasn’t an option…she felt something for the first time I’d known her, intense fear and despair, and then she put the gun to her head.”

She bit her lip. “Detective Halblicht…’the Phantom’ saved her life by jumping in the way and knocking the gun away. She was the one who shot him, Justice. Back at the courtroom, and he still saved her life. She was trying to do the same thing to herself, just as her handlers probably demanded.”

"She was the one who shot him. And he tried to save her life," he repeated. He took a deep, shuddering breath. "You've given me a lot to think about, Athena. As usual."

Athena put her hand on his shoulder again and gave it a firm squeeze.

“I know…I’m sorry it took me so long to tell you, Apollo. It’s been…it’s been a heck of a few days.” She gave him a smile. “Think it through, okay? And when you’re ready, let me know. But you know I’m always there for you, right? If you need me, just ask.”

He leaned into her hand and nodded. "Thanks, Athena. Thanks a lot."

December 25, 1:25 pm

Miles had his paperwork spread out over the desk in his hotel room, and rocked the chair gently back and forth on its hinge as he looked his papers over. Gumshoe was out– working with Badd, he was pretty certain– and he was alone with himself and his thoughts.

He was doing his best not to dwell on his mistakes. To move forward and make certain he didn't make any more. But it was hard– and that was why the words on the page were glazing over when he managed to look at them, probably.

At least he'd gotten some sleep last night. Thank lady justice.

There was a sharp knock at the door, and he immediately answered "Come in."

To his surprise, not who he'd been expecting.

It was Phoenix. He didn't look entirely pleased.

"Phoenix," Miles greeted, taking off his largely pointless now reading glasses. "I was expecting Apollo Justice."

"Really? Good to know, because I came to talk about Apollo Justice."

Miles grimaced. He'd been afraid of that

"Yes, that's not surprising. Come on, sit down, Wright– go ahead and lay into me about it."

With his hands on his knees, he waited for Phoenix to start in on him.

There was a long, silent moment where the two men stared at each other. Phoenix was still standing by the door.

Finally he spoke.

"Well, Edgeworth, it sounds like you already know you fucked up."

Miles took a deep breath, his hands tightening on his knees. "Obviously. It's one of my worse blunders. It's… thrown my judgment into question in my mind."

"Then I'm not going to repeat what you already know, Miles. I'm not going to make you explain yourself to me, or justify your behavior, or beg my forgiveness. Though I hope that you will or have done so with Apollo at least."

Phoenix's tone was rough. It was hard to listen to. Miles wished that he had maliciously withheld the information from Apollo instead of simply forgetting to tell him.

A sin was forgivable. A mistake, never.

He reminded himself that Phoenix Wright was not Manfred Von Karma.

"Mr. Justice and I just spoke on it," Miles explained. "I intend to explain myself further, but he's currently having a session with Ms. Cykes, which is probably for the best."

Phoenix finally came and sat down on the bed. "Athena's talking to him? Good. She's holding up to this thing you've put on them a damned lot better than Apollo is."

"I know." Edgeworth sagged. "I spoke to her, too. Part of the problem is that unshakable front that Justice puts up. I suppose I let myself buy into the idea that he would be fine."

"And he's not fine."

"He is so not fine, Wright. He reminds me of myself after I lost my father. He's older, but–"

"Yeah," Phoenix sighed. "I wasn't there, but I think I can understand what you mean.:"

Miles leaned forward toward him in the chair, his shoulders slumped. "Obviously I don't know him as well as you do, but he seems… lost, Phoenix. I feel responsible."

"For not telling him? We all make mistakes, Miles. This was a pretty bad one, but–"

"For that," Miles cut him off, "but for… more than that, too."

Phoenix's expression shifted from tense irritation– to concern. He cocked his head at Miles and reached out to him. "Hey, come here. Sit with me."

Stiffly, Miles lurched up and came and sat on the bed, slumping halfway across Phoenix's body.

"What's up, Miles?" he asked, brushing his hand across his cheek.

Miles leaned into him, drawing some comfort from the touch, despite his worry in bringing up the topic. "I– Phoenix– I worry that it's my fault that Apollo's friend died in the first place. That his death is on my hands."

"What?"

Miles felt Phoenix stiffen, and the reaction made him wince. He closed his eyes.

"You know my office had been trying to flush out the Phantom this whole last year. That's why I had Blackquill start prosecuting cases again. And all this time he was right under our noses but– but that's not the point."

"What is the point, Miles?" Phoenix asked slowly. His touch softened again, and he gave him a look of probing concern.

"The point is that I knew that the Phantom might show up. I knew there was a solid chance that he would," Miles' voice croaked out of his throat. "I could have done anything, absolutely anything to make the HAT-2 mission safer for the participants. I could have told them to beef of security. I could have told them to scrub the launch. I could have fucking warned Starbuck and Terran about the possibility. But I didn't do that, Phoenix. I didn't do any of that. I was so focused on catching the Phantom, that I gambled with their lives– I traded Clay Terran's life as the price for catching the Phantom."

Miles fell against Phoenix's chest as a sudden rush of emotion heaved out of him, and he felt tears on his cheeks. Slowly, Phoenix put his arms around him, and squeezed him.

"I… never thought about that, Miles."

"Well I have!" he choked. "It isn't the Phantom that Apollo should be furious with, Phoenix. He's more tool than he is man. It's me that deserves his ire, if anyone. And I don't– I don't know what to do about that, Phoenix. I think I've been making terrible mistakes ever since I started as Chief Prosector. I don't think I deserve to be here."

Phoenix's grip on him became tighter. "Well you'd better damned well not go anywhere without taking me," he hissed. "Have you got that, Edegworth? No rash decisions. No 'Miles Edgeworth chooses death'. Do you understand that?"

Miles shuddered against Wright's chest. He knew he still hadn't been forgiven for that. He didn't expect to be. He had hurt Phoenix deeply– hurt everyone close to him deeply, when he'd done that.

"I understand." He nodded against his chest.

"Good." Phoenix ran his fingers through Miles' hair. "I'm glad we've got that cleared up. The rest, we can figure out together, okay."

"I don't know how," Miles murmured. "Politics, law enforcement– at the level that I'm at it all feels like playing with people's lives like they were pawns on a chess board, Phoenix. I don't want that– it's not who I want to be– but it's so easy to fall into that kind of thinking. Until you hurt someone."

"You're worried you might become another Damon Gant?" Phoenix said softly.

"Or worse," Miles said. He stared blankly at the fibers of Phoenix's jacket.

"Well you won't," he promised firmly. "One way or another you won't. Because if I start to see it happening, I'll pull you out of there."

"I think I'd resign today if there was anyone I trusted to do the job, Phoenix," Miles said. "That's the worst thing, is that even when I'm worried about failing utterly, I worry that anyone else would be worse. That it's a sin I have to bear until it corrupts me."

Phoenix squeezed him tight. "Lady justice, you are melodramatic as hell right now, Miles."

He looked up at him. "Phoenix, I'm serious!"

Wright touched his face again, and sighed. "I know. But you're still melodramatic. Look. You fucked up, yes. Were there things that you could have done better? Also yes. But you can't let your mistakes destroy you. You have to pick yourself up and do better. Be better. For the sake of the people that you've hurt, if nobody else."

Miles bit his lip, listening as Phoenix spoke.

"You're right, MIles, right now, this position that you're in has a lot of power. And people say that power can corrupt. But I trust you, Miles. I believe in you. If you've made mistakes it's not because there's some kind of evil growing at your heart, it's because everybody makes mistakes. And you have the responsibility, as long as you're in this position, to learn from those mistakes and use them to do better. For everybody else, but especially for yourself."

Miles wiped his face, looking up at Phoenix in half disbelief. "Since when did you get so wise, Wright?"

He smirked. "It was probably the whole raising a daughter thing. Oh and all those Spider-Man comics I read while I was disbarred."

Edgeworth laughed a sharp, pained laugh, and buried his head against Phoenix's shoulder. "Comic book wisdom. I should have known."

"Hey, as if you get to talk," Phoenix grinned. "Come on, what would the Steel Samurai do in your position?"

"Probably… try to exile himself for his sins, and then come back stronger after a pep talk from his spiritual mentor, actually," Miles mused.

"Well, for the purposes of this, you can consider me that spiritual mentor, Miles. Get back up and come back stronger."

Miles looked up at him. "Spiritual mentors are supposed to be old and wise, not handsome and smart mouthed."

"I can stop shaving again, if that will help."

Miles grabbed his jaw and pulled him into a kiss. "Don't."

Maybe Phoenix was right. Maybe mistakes couldn't be forgiven, but he had a responsibility to learn from them, instead of let them break him.

#miles edgeworth #apollo justice #phoenix wright #athena cykes #bobby fulbright #simon blackquill #ema skye #trucy wright #pearl fey #blackbright #phantomquill #ace attorney #fanfiction #fanfic #fan fiction #archive of our own #ao3 #fic: in justice we trust #narumitsu

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