Also known as "What the Dickens?!" - A PW Christmas Carol if one inquires within with Eximplode.

I know, i know, it's like the third fic I've posted. I'm done with school and I'm not used to not being busy yet. But bear with me ;D

This is based off, obviously, a Christmas Carol. However it is not a direct rip of it with PW characters - I did try to throw some personal touches with both myself and the characters on it. It's an A.U., set in Victorian England, very similar to A Christmas Carol (WOW!)

Some of the things, like "scrooge"'s past, are a combination of PW canon, Christmas Carol canon, and me being really, really bored.

This idea came from Rii. All her fault. But it's a serious fic, not a parody, and I did work fairly hard on it! There will be four parts hopefully coming before Christmas.
Pairings and such to come. I'd rather not ruin them up front.
Enjoy!

Part One - The First Midnight


The snow pattered underneath his feet, his old boots hitting the cobblestone path at a medium pace. The man huddled beneath his jacket in a manner that most would perceive as harried – but he was still smiling, even as his bare fingers poked through the holes in his coat pocket.

I hope he’s still there…
He dodged a carriage wheel, avoiding the mud that splashed up at him as a large white horse neighed. “Sorry! Sorry!”
Someone cried back at him, shouting something about a street rat. Not many people were walking the roads on the upper class avenues and truthfully the man didn’t want to be one of them, either. But he wouldn’t have preferred to be one of the high-nosed top-hatted men in the covered carriages. He just wanted to be out of the district entirely.

But I’ve got to do this…

Finally, among the fancy apartments he caught sight of an office barely humbler than the rest. The sun was setting beyond the city horizon, and the other offices had long since been closed in celebration; yet a slight light was visible through the window of this specific sector.
Of course he’s still here. I don’t think he leaves.
Silently, he walked up to the building, passing the sign that claimed it a part of the city’s judicial system. The man knocked briefly on the door and, as he had many times before, let himself inside.

“You know it’s Christmas Eve, right?”
Of course not. Miles Edgeworth had stopped seeing days as anything other than numbers and months a long time ago. December 24th had long since become a date no different than any other he was fated to meet. And if Phoenix Wright hadn’t stepped into his office, he would have blissfully gone on not knowing.

He put down his pen and looked up at the man across his desk, removing a light pair of glasses from his eyes. The familiar companion washed into his sight, a tattered yet cheery young man who considered the two friendlier than they really were.

Sighing, Edgeworth looked back down at his work, squinting slightly by the candlelight. He had hours and hours worth of paperwork before him, work that would surely lead him long into the night and deep into the morning of what he had just learned was Christmas. And somehow, the regularity of it all was rather soothing.

Unlike the bumbling man in front of him. For a lawyer, Phoenix was far too happy and far too unpredictable. Edgeworth couldn’t really remember how exactly they had met, or why for that matter. All he knew was that he should probably padlock the front door.

“The prosecutor’s office is closed.” Miles responded plainly. “I don’t like seeing people after six. I believe I’ve told you that before, Mr. Wright.”

His friend’s eyes drooped only a little, still sparkling in the dim light. “I thought you’d like some company on Christmas Eve.” Phoenix took another step in, feeling his boots squish against the floor and wincing. He won’t appreciate having to clean that up.

“Well if I didn’t know it was Christmas Eve, I wouldn’t need company.”
Edgeworth had put his eyeglasses back on, returning to the stack of contracts and documents below him. The awfulness of what he had said caught him and he could nearly hear the man’s heart breaking, but he refused to look up at him in any sort of emotion. He was busy, after all.

Phoenix had resisted the urge to turn around and run back out the door, and he was well rewarded for it. The prosecutor leaned over and reached for a chair without taking his eyes off his parchment, pulling the seat up next to the desk. “You have five minutes.”

The sigh of relief was almost disgusting as the tattered man sat down gratefully. “Thank you…”
“Five minutes. Very seriously, I’m quite busy, Mr. Wright.”
Right. Edgeworth wouldn’t care for him beating around the bush, and yet the words kept catching in his throat.

“Mr. Edgeworth, well, I know you’re used to the nicer part of town, and you’re more accustomed to prosecuting against the poor than defending them…”

If he didn’t want to get to his point, that wasn’t Edgeworth’s problem. He kept one eye on his pocket watch. You’ve managed to waste thirty seconds.
This action unnerved the defense attorney even further, and he closed his eyes, launching into his plea.

“I need your help, Mr. Edgeworth.” Phoenix clasped his bare hands in his lap and spoke as strongly as he could. “I’m running low on money.”
So much for coming to wish me a Happy Christmas, then. The prosecutor closed his eyes, put down his quill, and turned to face his companion, an exhausted look on his face.

“You have a job, last I knew, Wright. What do you do with yourself that eats up all of those funds?” He rolled his eyes and looked away from the man, slightly disgusted. His friend – if you could call him that – brought certain shabbiness to the fine, ornate room. The ripped blue jacket diminished the majesty of the soft cream and magenta interior, a pauper color among princes. Phoenix’s face was dirty and his hat crooked. Edgeworth wasn’t even sure what to make of the shambled man next to him anymore.

Phoenix crumpled his hands and looked down at the polished wooden floor, his legs twisting like an uncomfortable schoolboy. “Well, I don’t remember if I told you or not, Mr. Edgeworth, but I did recently get married…”

“ …Your first mistake, yes…”

He managed to make eye contact, his frail frame shaking. “My wife has a young sister, sir.” The man hadn’t called Edgeworth sir before, and this caught the prosecution’s attention. “She’s a half-sister. A bastard, we think, as it is, and her mother’s recently gone to prison…”

The attorney could tell he was winning very little points with the man at the desk, but he continued his plight even as Edgeworth rolled his eyes.
“She’s ill. Gravely ill. She was sick when she first came here, but now that we haven’t had much heat or anything to eat lately…”

“You’re pathetic.” Miles simply couldn’t understand. “You’re a lawyer. You make a fair amount of money – maybe not enough to spoil any young sister-in-laws with, but enough to put some damned food on your table.”

Phoenix said nothing, biting his lip as the prosecutor continued. “You’ve had several cases lately. Where’s the money from that?”

The response came meekly, the quivering before the storm.
“I…haven’t charged any of my clients in the past few months.”

Disgust filled the room as Edgeworth shook his head, his hand covering his face in annoyance. For a moment, he wasn’t quite sure what to say, and the other man quickly filled the silence.

“You’ve got to understand, Mr. Edgeworth, a lot of them couldn’t afford it! They were just as badly off. Some of them had nowhere to go, some of them had other things they had to buy…some were as sick as little Pearl…”

The papers flew to the ground. “Well then, Wright, you’ve got to choose sometimes. It’s either a client or a little girl, but someone has to suffer at some point…”

“But neither of them deserve it, Mr. Edgeworth…”

His pleas fell on deaf ears. Miles had left his seat, frustrated. “You don’t seem to understand. Some people make it through while others are meant to fall through the cracks.” The stress was getting to him, and now this! Did he always have to steer his companions off a dreamer’s fantasy? “You know, these theories of natural selection that have been going around are starting to appeal to me more and more…”

“Natural selection? You mean leaving others to die, then!” Phoenix stood up quickly, knocking his chair to the ground. “You were never like this when we were children, Mi…”

“Leaving others to die is what we are meant to do, Mr. Wright. Supporting yourself is good for the world – decreases the surplus population, is what it does…”

The defense lawyer was shaking, shocked. He titled his head, sapphire eyes boring into the man besides him.
“I…I can’t believe you just said that…” He murmured in disbelief. “You, of all people! Natural selection? Without the kindness of others you wouldn’t even have any of this…”

“And I asked for none of it!”
This was true, and Phoenix found himself reaching for the chair he had sent toppling. Nervously he bowed his head as the prosecutor calmed himself, retaking his seat as well.

“I’m only asking for enough to get her a decent doctor…”
Nothing would come of it, and he knew it. Edgeworth shook his head.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Wright, but I refuse to help you until you understand that you cannot save everyone.”

A pause filled the air, and Edgeworth knew Phoenix was thinking, hard. Tentatively, his kind voice crept into the prosecutor’s ears.
“I’d hoped he wouldn’t change you.”

Edgeworth looked at his watch. “Your five minutes is up. I need to finish this.”

“I hoped you were going to stay the same…”

The man picked up his pen and jabbed it into his ink, making it splatter and stain into the wood.

“Miles…”

Don’t call me that! “Get out of here, Wright.”

Calmly, with the pain hidden underneath his thin body, the lawyer stood up, nodding his head in a precise motion. He walked towards the door, not giving his old friend another look.

“Happy Christmas, sir.”

The last word he couldn’t help but to hurl like an insult as he shut the door behind him. Unable to stop himself, Phoenix leaned against the freezing outside of the office and covered his tearing eyes with his bare hands.

For a moment he remained there as the chill sank into his bones, permeating without a problem through his ragged jacket. He hadn’t liked leaving on such a sour note, but lately it was becoming easier and easier to lose his temper with Edgeworth. He had been so excited upon seeing his name in the newspapers a year or so ago. It had been so long since he had heard from his friend; the newspaper had confirmed for him he hadn’t been making up memories of Miles for the past decade or so.

Eagerly, he had visited him as soon as possible. Phoenix had ignored the strange look Miles had given him, the slightly cold way he had invited him in. He didn’t even mention why Miles had been in the newspaper in the first place – it had been rumored that the new Prosecutor Edgeworth ran a corrupt court, although he was far too powerful for anything to be investigated further.

Phoenix had just been happy to see him.

He had visited him with a decreasing frequency after their initial meeting, but he had still gone. The man didn’t like the way his old friend worked continuously, the stacks of papers seemingly multiplying like mice on his desk. There had been several meetings where he hadn’t even exchanged more than a word or two with Edgeworth. He had simply sat and watched him work.

But now he had lost almost all desire to ever come back to this district. He had been convinced his company would do the man some good, but it appeared he was only adding to the mountain of stress the prosecutor had buried himself under.

Phoenix didn’t notice the odd pair of men wandering down the avenue, an annoying bell ringing in one’s hand. He only noticed as they cornered him on the doorstep, apparently trying to speak with Edgeworth after six o’clock as well. The two were clad in tall bowlers, making them look positively ridiculous; but the hats made them both laughable and unable to be laughed at. Police officers weren’t people to point towards and smirk at, particularly if one was the only torn jacket in a street filled with suits.

But even as Phoenix winced, they seemed amicable enough. Energetically, the taller and lankier of the two rang his bell up and down. “Good evening, SIR!”
The poor man laughed a bit. He couldn’t help it; the serious expression on the other man’s silly face was too much for him to look at. Fortunately, the policeman didn’t seem to notice.
“We are collecting on behalf of the city of London’s poor, sir!” The other man was considerably shorter than his companion, his face rounder and softer under his curly auburn hair. He frowned, looking at Phoenix, and seemed to mumble. “Although you look like the sort we’re going to end up giving the money…”

“Pardon?” Phoenix hadn’t caught the last bit, but it didn’t seem to matter. The taller man, who was still ringing the bell wildly, had thrust a purse in his face.
“Any spare change you can give will benefit us all, sir!”

The defense attorney offered a smiled as he reached into his pocket, fishing around for at least some sort of coin. His grin started to fade as he fingered the holes in the cloth, finally holding out empty palms to express he had nothing.

“I’m really sorry…”
The smaller man tilted his head a little and sighed, gesturing for the other to pull back the sack of coins. He stepped away from the stairs, giving Phoenix a path to leave by.

“Well, carry on then, sir! Keep out of trouble and do your best as a citizen of London, sir!” The lanky one saluted smartly as he turned towards the office, reaching for the doorknob. Phoenix was tempted to warn them about asking Edgeworth for money, not wanting their spirits to be dampened any further by a ranting about natural selection. But the two had already made their way inside by the time he turned back around, and anyway he had had just about as much of the doorstop as he could take.

Silently, he wrapped himself back in his jacket and headed off into the dark, his boots kicking up snow as he hurried home. Even from down the street, he swore he could hear the frantic ringing of a bell.

“Mr. Meekins, what are you doing?” The moment the two bustling men had intruded the peace of the office, Edgeworth had stood up in a fury. “You’re bringing an awful name to the law with this nonsense…”

“SIR! We are here to collect on behalf of the poor…”

“Well, collect elsewhere. I have nothing for those who can’t help themselves.”
Edgeworth sighed and looked up at the shorter man, raising an eyebrow. “You look familiar. I’m nearly positive I’ve seen you in court before…”

The man’s eyes grew wide and he began to shake his head before Mr. Meekins interrupted him.
“Well, Mr. Edgeworth, Mr. DeLite here used to be a common criminal! The most despicable sort!”

He made a face, glaring. “Mr. DeLite would steal and steal until one day our trustworthy police caught him, sir! But after a bit of time in jail he realized his mistakes and decided to dedicate his life to helping those he had stolen from!” Meekins placed his arms on the shoulders of the scared ex-thief and shook him. “We’ve got him doing good now, sir! It just takes a little bit of help from others, Mr. Edgeworth.”

It appeared that Mr. DeLite had not been in on Mr. Meekin’s presentation. He sighed but nodded his head in admission. “It’s true.”
“And just a small donation can help another terrible thief turn into a good soul, Mr. Edgeworth. It’s Christmas, after all, and if we help some of these poor dirty creatures get some food into their stomachs, they’ll be far less tempted to steal…”

“And far more tempted to come begging at my doorstep for more.” The memory of the other lawyer was still fresh in his mind. “It’s far easier for me, Mr. Meekins, to simply lock up my things and allow those more foolish to be robbed.”

Even Mr. Meekins stopped ringing his bell, placing it by his side. He was speechless, but his companion cleared his throat.
“You gave a little bit last year, Mr. Edgeworth. I saw your name on the old roster, even though Mr. Meekins did scratch it out and write anonymous right next to it, but you see he’s not very good at crossing things…”

Edgeworth didn’t hear the last word, but he was barely listening either way.

“But it wasn’t that hard, was it? Just a couple of crowns or even a shilling…”

“And I was told last year it would help put an end to this madness. Yet, another year has come, and still there are plenty of unemployed on the streets even more encouraged to beg from me.”

He started to walk away from the desk, his arms crossed. “Gentlemen, it isn’t that I cannot help you. It is just that you fail to see that what you’re doing has no good.”

The two baffled policemen watched as he paced the office. “Think about it. If someone’s poor, they deserve to be poor. They’ve done something to bring it about themselves. Obviously, they aren’t strong enough to belong here and if we keep trying to pay for them, the longer we’re going to have to see them.”

Edgeworth looked at them not cruelly, but certainly sternly. “It’s better off for us all to just let them die off, instead of trying to preserve a doomed sort. You’ve heard of natural selection, I presume?”

Mr. Meekin’s jaw had dropped slightly, his eyes clearly shocked. His smaller companion inhaled, sighed, and nodded his head.

“Yes, we have. Thank you for your time, Mr. Edgeworth.”
Slowly he turned around, making his way to the door. Mr. Meekins looked at him for a moment longer, still stunned. Mr. Delite called his name and it snapped him out of his shock; he huffed, rang his bell with an increased vigor, and bombarded towards the door.

Edgeworth savored the peace for a moment, straightening his papers just in time to throw them down in frustration as a cheery voice rang out from behind the door.
“Merry Christmas, brother!” The door shoved open and Edgeworth made a resolution to immediately go lock the door once he was alone again.

The girl waltzed in, hoisting up her soft cream skirt and twirling in a circle, laughing. “It’s snowing out! We’ll have a white Christmas this year!”

“Ema, this simply isn’t the time…”
She pouted only a little, adjusting her glasses on her nose. “It’s never a good time for you, brother. But you’ve got to admit, it’s a better time than most!”

He picked up his pen, scrawling out his signature carefully onto a contract. “For a university student, you are terribly optimistic.” Wasn’t the college supposed to be for the intelligent? Then again, the girl made up what she lacked in common sense with an overwhelming understanding of science. It was why she had been allowed into the world dominated mostly by men.
Of course, it runs in her family…

She fiddled with her hair, readjusting her brown locks into the bun beyond her head. “You’re still working. I figured you wouldn’t go home, brother, but that doesn’t matter. I’ve just got just the place for you to go home to…”

“Your apartment, you mean?” Edgeworth shook his head. Ema Skye had a nice apartment, a four-roomed one inherited from her sister, but an invitation usually meant other people would be there as well.

“I’m having a small get-together in about an hour or so, and I was just grabbing a few things when I passed by here.” She was lying, he could tell. There were no packages in her hands. “I didn’t think you’d be doing anything tonight…”

“I’ve got some work to do.” How many times would he say that tonight, he wondered. Ema frowned and flounced towards him, touching his shoulder. He pulled away.
“It’s just a few people, no one you don’t know. My sister’s old roommate and her sister…do you remember them?”
The Fey family. “I don’t.”

He knew she knew he was being difficult. There. Now we’ve each told a circumstantial lie.
“Well, you will once you see them again.” The young scientist smiled. She hadn’t expected him to jump up and down at the invitation, but a little part of her still believed he could be persuaded.

Edgeworth shook his head, pushing some loose bangs out of his face. His eyes were worn and shaded like a dark sketch, his cheeks gaunt. He had had a long day, she could tell – he always had had a long day – but he would never believe her, if she proposed that a night among friends might alleviate some of his troubles. Many times he had said that he was only a friend according to them; they were not friends to him.
Perhaps one of these days she’d do a lab at the university and come out with a scientific postulate to show him. Here, brother, I ran an experiment and the results were that good company really does help one feel better. Even if she managed to find a way to do that, would he even believe her then? Edgeworth was a man of nearly every science but Ema’s.

She looked at him sadly, him not bothering to look at her. She had a trump card, of course, but she wasn’t sure if it would help her case or light her brother’s fuse.

“If Lana was there, you would have come.” He couldn’t possibly hate her any more. It was worth a try.

She nearly saw the fuse ignite. Edgeworth rose to explode, but instead sat back down, calm. A broken stick of dynamite was even more unpredictable.

He didn’t say a word, but the fluster on his cheeks was evident. She decided to try again, even as similar as it was to poking a tiger with a stick.

“You were a lot cheerier back then…”

“And then I got smarter. Chemist prodigy or not, you’d be wise to do the same.”

Ema didn’t stop smiling, even as she recognized it was time to leave. Gently she leaned over and kissed his cheek, a gesture he did not appreciate.

“The invitation’s still open.” She beamed and grinned in her childish way. “We’re due to start in an hour or so, but feel free to come anytime.”

Edgeworth didn’t say anything as she picked up her skirts again, heading for the door. Oddly enough she saw he had gotten up to follow her.

“I’m not coming with you…” He cut off her hopes before she could get them up. “Just…walking you out.” As he pushed open the creaking door, he sighed at her unending smile. The streets outside were dark and muddy, and even though his district was safe, the trip to Ema’s apartment required passing through an unfavorable road. It appeared she intended to walk back, probably arriving shortly before her guests.

One pang of worry hit him, but it was cleaned away by the words that had gotten to him earlier. As much as Edgeworth didn’t want to admit it, she had hit a nerve.

“Have a good evening, brother.” Ema stepped out onto the steps as he decided to say nothing. He closed the door in silence, and the scientist could hear the sound of the lock behind her.

As polite and kind as she had been, he nearly had heard her thoughts as he watched her leave.
What happened to you?

Reality happened, he would have liked to say. He’d gotten out of the childhood fantasies his old companions still wandered in, and one by one all of those companions found that one could not live like that forever. Hopefully, soon Phoenix would realize what he had done wrong. Denying him the money was just a way to help things…

Edgeworth breathed in and sighed. At least it was quiet now, and if one more person came he would blow out his candle and pretend not to be there. He never got this much company any other day, and he didn’t like this single day to be different from the rest regardless of what holiday it was.

He adjusted his cravat, sitting down at the chair again. Silently, he picked up the quill and began to read through his paperwork again.

The company had worn him out, he realized an hour or so into the night, but he did not put down his pen. The parade of merrymakers had distracted him for far too long, and the prosecutor had put nowhere near as deep of a dent in the paperwork as he should have been able to…
Carefully, he blinked once, then once again, struggling to keep his eyes open. Another hour passed by and he wrote words he wouldn’t be able to recall the next day, his hand scribbling messier and messier writing. He was struggling to read the print stamped onto the contracts, even with his glasses on, and at one point he leaned forward entirely just to make out the words…

Edgeworth’s stray hand hit his ink, knocking it over onto some of his papers. The black ate through the parchment like acid, one paper so badly damaged that nearly all but one signature was covered in black.
If he had been awake, the prosecutor would have noticed the signature remaining was not his, but the fine handwriting of his predecessor.

He opened his eyes to a loud banging on the door. The headache in his eyes grew worse by a tenfold as Edgeworth sat up slightly. The rap was harder and deeper than any of the gentle taps from his friends, but no matter who it was he wasn’t taking any callers…
The prosecutor lifted his head, going to blow out his candle. He stopped to see the light had already flickered out.
The knocking continued and suddenly a bell from far away cried out, echoing throughout the office. Combined with the gonging, the knocking was driving into his skull, and Edgeworth covered his ears fiercely.
Four chimes, he heard. Five. Six.
How late is it? Who was calling at this hour?

Irate, he forced himself up, his head still covered by his palms.
Seven chimes. Eight. Nine. Ten.

The bell only rang at midnight. Two more chimes to go, and still the knocking continued.
Miles stood up shakily, his legs trembling from the sudden draft that had come into the office. Somehow, he felt that the knock on the door was not natural at all…
Eleven. Twelve.

The door burst in at the last chime of midnight. Pieces of wood shot out from the frame, and he ducked as the boards crashed into the office, shaking.
He opened his eyes carefully, his hand up in a protective way. Somehow, he had been thrown to the floor, but as he tried to stand…

Something heavy and cold shoved Edgeworth back down to the floor, his head hitting the wood. Once everything had gone clear again, he looked up to see a thick line of rusted chains had him tethered to the floor, his limbs bound in shackles.

The links were rattling against the floor, and as he followed their path Edgeworth’s eyes finally led him to the intruder.
“Miles Edgeworth, I wouldn’t have thought we’d become two of a pair.”
A thick oak cane had been slammed down by him, barely missing his face. Miles looked up and moaned.

“You’re dead.” He didn’t scream, or yell for help. The first thing that occurred to him was that if he stated what was real, things would return to the way they were supposed to be…

Manfred Von Karma was dead, and his ghost didn’t seem to be denying it. The old man was a sickly white, but his eyes were still just as cold and cruel, his grin just as mad as the day he had died.

But the rest of his body was wrapped in the same chains that had Miles tethered to the ground. The links rained off his body in a shower of jangles, making his motions slow and haunted and crying out in agony every time the old man moved.

“Your work. It’s good to see you’re doing it.” The cane was gestured towards the desk in a sadistic compliment. With a flick of his wrist, he had knocked it all to the ground. “For a while I believed you wouldn’t succeed as much as a prosecutor.”

Edgeworth struggled, unsure what to make of the madness as his mentor thrust more chains to the ground. “You’re dead…” If I remind him of that…

“Although you’re not much smarter.” The end of the stick rested under his chin, shoving the man’s face up to look at the horror before him. “For one who calls himself a romantic, Edgeworth, you’re rather convinced of realism.”

The cane struck him across the face. Instinctively Miles tried to grab at the wound, but his wrist merely shot up against the chains keeping him down.

So he came here just to laugh at me then. “What…are you doing here…?”

Von Karma laughed, prodding the cane against his student’s throat. He held out an arm and a multitude of chains slid off of it, ringing out against the floor.

“You see what waits for you? All of this imprisonment, this horrible nightmare! And it will all be yours, Miles Edgeworth. Just as all of the work I left behind became yours…”
“But I don’t…want a nightmare…” The man cried out, unsure what to make of it all. His rational side was feverishly trying to find something rational about the whole situation at all.

“You don’t get to pick and choose what you’ll inherit, boy!” The metal roared throughout the office, the winds howling throughout the room. A piece of wood from the door struck the wall, splintering into him. “You get all my work? You’ll get all these chains, boy, and you’ll forge them yourself.”

The boy below him looked up, shaking his head.
“Don’t believe me, then? You’re forging them now!”

The chains seemed to multiply and connect over his body, forcing him down even harder. They covered his face and he squinted through them, trembling.

“Your misdeeds, Miles Edgeworth. The selfish acts you and I reveled in. That is what these are, every last one…”

Von Karma clanked the metal. “Charming, aren’t they.”
This is a nightmare! Edgeworth could only moan, the chains pressing down on his vocal chords. The words on his lips formed slowly.
Leave me…

“…All this is that power…”
“Leave me!” The chains had rushed off of him, bruising his neck and face as they shoved at his bones.

And suddenly, he was free. Shaking violently, he sat up to see the ghost clank out the gaping hole in the door.
Before he was gone for good, Von Karma turned back, a horrible smile on his face.
“This is not the end of this. You’ve got a long night ahead of you, boy.” He tilted his neck in a way that would have snapped the throat of any living human being. “But you’re used to long nights…”

Edgeworth feverishly shook his head and his mentor laughed. “Three more times, Miles Edgeworth.”

The wind screamed around him and slowly, the chains were whipped into the air. The man started to disappear, his voice remaining.
“So you’d best start to forget your beliefs in realism…”

Just as strangely as it came, it was gone. The door was kicked in, the room a mess – but the snow fell lightly outside, innocent and calm.

If he had been tired before, it was nothing compared to what he felt now. The exhaustion had seized a hold of his grip on the earth and now, slowly, he was falling…

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Last edited by MercuryKitten on Sun Nov 30, 2008 8:22 pm, edited 4 times in total.

IT'S FOR THE CHILDREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEN!!!

Mercs I love you so hard, okay.
I've already read all of this with my own copy, pretty much.
Is all good. <3

lol, wow, this review was made of fail.

I almost decided to write something similar to this earlier. I'm glad I didn't, it would have looked like absolute trash compared to what you've done.

mooooooooore

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D: I'm sorry! I was worried I would end up stealing people's ideas with this, since I figured EVERY fandom has a Christmas Carol somewhere.

But thank you so much! D:
Your sig makes me smile with glee.

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Ah, crap, no, don't feel bad, I get ideas for fics and pictures all the time but I suck at doing both so it just suprises me when someone comes up with better versions of them and I'm probably just digging myself deeper...

IT'SAWESOMELET'SLEAVEITATTHAT

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D: I'm sure you're not nearly as bad as you say. D:

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Very interesting so far. I like what I see. Looking forward to reading the rest as it comes out.

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Thank you very much. ^^

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Very sweet and well written as usual

Just one suggestion - ask ExImplode to Britpick this for you to check for modern US words as a few are creeping in there (apartment and prosecutor specifically) and I can see you've worked really hard to avoid it in general :)

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Oi! Don't give me MORE work to do, I've already got two fics running and exams in January. XD;; lol, to be perfectly honest though, I didn't see those (I has been proof-reading). Is there a UK equivalent of prosecutor? (I saw that word in the paper this morning, I swear) As for apartment, I honestly can't think of a better word. x_x If you can suggest replacements, go ahead and PM Mercs. I'm not too experienced with Victorian English.

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GAH ;_; I was convinced I had victorianized all of them. In retrospect I should have picked up on apartment, but I don't think I'd ever get prosecutor....

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Thanks for all the reviews <3 Hopefully this all resounds well with you guys! Bear with me on the length.


Part One: Snowfall and Time
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He woke up calmer, the bruises on his face seemingly soothed.
Nothing was chilly anymore. The first thing he realized was that the room felt normal, not ghostly and chaotic. In fact, it felt even gentler than usual; not just not cold, but actually, genuinely warm.
The surroundings around Edgeworth were familiar, even though he couldn’t entirely make them out. His dark eyes squinted and he relaxed upon seeing familiar shades of maroon and cream – his wallpaper. The shades of color were bright, meaning the morning sunshine was hitting them.
It’s morning, then.

Finally, this nightmare was over. The nonsense about the chains and the ghosts had just been all that stress getting to his imagination…

Someone was prodding at his face.
Miles twitched a little, struggling to regain consciousness entirely. He moved his hand towards his face, grabbing onto the first thing he could sense, and felt fingers not his own sliding something onto his nose…

Suddenly everything came into focus as he felt the frames of his glasses press against his face. The room, still illuminated softly, was clearer and the man immediately wished he wasn’t able to see it after all.

My roof is gone! That was the first conclusion he made from the piles of snow that had accumulated in his corners. At least a half-inch of snow covered his entire bare floor, and the snowflakes were still drifting down at a slow but steady rate. The white stuff had nearly covered his trousers, from what he could see, but his legs had not been soaked…

The prosecutor sat up and felt his back brush against what seemed like a pair of knees. Dazed, he turned around to make eye contact with the kindest person he had ever known…
“Miss Fey?”

Misty Fey looked down at him and nodded, smiling the tragic grin he remembered so well. It occurred to Miles the reason he felt so warm, even among the snow in his office, was because she had been holding him the entire time.
He pushed away in a way that was not unkind and leaned his back against the wall.
“But I thought…” Was it rude to ask someone whether they were dead or not?
“I thought you passed away right after my father did…”

The woman nodded and laughed a bit as the man before her as pulled his knees up to his chest. Although he could recognize those kind eyes anywhere, she was not the same tattered neighbor he had known. Her thick black hair was down, hanging freely about her back in a way he rarely saw in the bunned and bonneted women of the day. Miss Fey’s ragged jacket had been replaced with a maroon cape he had mistaken for the wallpaper. The grey dress he’d always seen her wearing had been traded in for a crimson-trimmed silk gown whiter than the snow on the ground. She had always been lovely, but now she was finally looking like she deserved…
Not a single chain hung from her pale body.

“I’m a bit better known as the Ghost of Christmas Past, now.”
No… The prosecutor looked up at her with exhaustion returning to his eyes.
“More ghosts? Then I’m not awake, after all.” What else was he to suffer, if this madness had only begun?

“No, no. You’re quite awake, Miles.” Miss Fey had stood up, extending a hand to him with care. “There’s a difference between being asleep and being haunted…”

He sighed and stood as she placed an arm around his shoulder kindly. “You’re the first kind face I’ve seen tonight. Please, I implore you, tell me why I’m being haunted…”
The ghost sighed and turned her head, her dark hair cascading down her shoulders as she moved. “You’ve found yourself on the wrong path. You’ve been led astray, and we’re only here to show you back to the road you were doing so well on.”

He looked down at the snow, his hair falling in front of his eyes as he crossed his arm. The gentlewoman reached over and pushed his bangs back in a comforting motion.
“It’s not that bad, Miles, being haunted. We’re only here to help…”

“Please! How did I end up astray?” Edgeworth wasn’t even entirely sure what he had strayed from in the first place, but perhaps if he could repent now…

But she only laughed. “But I thought you didn’t like to talk about the past?”

His mouth closed, remembering the sour words he had brought upon his friends. Biting his tongue, he found himself eating his words. They were bitter and he promised himself he would never say such a thing to anyone again. Yet in the back of his mind, something nasty told him that of course he would speak like that again, once he was back in more comfortable circumstances.

Misty squeezed his shoulder upon his silence. “Come for a walk with me.”
She led him carefully out the door and into the darkness of the streets, where Edgeworth learned that it wasn’t really morning yet after all. He protested, giving her a strange look.

“It’s still dark out, Miss Fey!” For barely a moment, he sounded younger, his face peppered with an unusual youth. Somehow, just the presence of someone he hadn’t seen in years had managed to serve as a fountain of youth.

She gave him a matching look before fading into a tender laugh. “Is it really, now?”

Her words beckoned the light to shine up on the cobblestones, and the same glow that had illuminated his office before seemed to wash over the buildings trimming the street. Miles resisted the wonder that was trying to soot him, but suddenly every emotion was replaced with shock as he gazed at the houses besides him.

The houses were no longer the stuffy homes of the aristocratic Londoner, but the far shabbier and far friendly apartments of the middle class. He wasn’t in a slum – everyone seemed far too cheery for that – but he wasn’t surrounded by the rich, either.
In fact, something about it seemed more comfortable than any office in the old district…

“Do you remember any old Christmases of yours?” Misty and the prosecutor seemed to go unnoticed by the people on the streets, busy, bustling people who appeared to have come out of nowhere even though they didn’t know that. Some of the faces were familiar, and he strained to determine who they were while trying to respond to the ghost besides him.

“Ah…” I tried to forget all of that… “I used to get sick often. I always seemed to have a cough every holiday…”

“Come on, Miles! You’re always too sick to come out and play!”

The voice did not belong to the ghost besides him. The prosecutor’s eyes widened, and he whipped around to face a tidy-looking brick house on the corner of the street.
He knew every last room in the house. The front door would take one into a small foyer that turned into a narrow hallway. The first door on the right went to a parlor decorated in a soft blue, the first on the left to a neat dining room that in turn led to a messy kitchen. Around the back through the pantry was a set of spiral stairs – he’d always liked having spiral stairs – that brought one up into the small second floor. The corner towards the inside made up a windowless room that was more office than bedroom and either way, a mess. And the other room, the one facing out into the street…

Edgeworth gasped silently as he saw his twelve-year-old self open the window of his own bedroom and yell down to the street.

“I can’t!” The boy called down to the two children on the ground below him, his arms crossed and his nose red. “Father told me to stay inside today!” Even though it was Christmas, young Miles still had to be coaxed out of his bedroom most of the time.

“But I’ve got to show you something! Something fantastic!” One boy on the ground was dressed in mismatched clothes, the one who kept crying out. He wasn’t wearing different socks or two different mittens because that was all he had, unlike some of the children in the poorer areas of London. Miles and his friends had often debated on if he did so because he was colorblind, or simply stupid. After a while, they just assumed it was both.

The child in the window wasn’t convinced. “My Father says it’s dangerous outside!”

“Not during the daytime! He just means during the night! I heard ‘im myself!”

The boy pursed his lip, stifling a cough in his throat. He was thinking.

“Do you have it here?”

“No, we’ve gotta go see it. It’s not that far!” It was an odd feeling, to watch one’s self be tempted. “Nick’s coming too!”

“What is it?” He usually pretended not to be interested in surprises. But his friends did not reply, and he wrinkled his brow. “Larry, what is it?”

“Come down and I’ll bring you with us!”

Back then, he had been curious. Frowning, the boy huffed, but he closed the window. A moment later, Edgeworth watched himself come out the heavy front door, half in an old jacket. Miss Fey pushed him forward silently, allowing him to go close enough to stand behind his younger version.
“They won’t see you.” She whispered into his ear when he hesitated, and he let himself step right into the trio of boys.
My old best friends…

“We’ve got to get back before Father gets home or he’ll kill me.” Miles was the smallest of the three, but he was the tidiest. He was the only one of the three who had bothered to comb through his hair or wash his face that morning. Larry, who didn’t usually brush his hair no matter what day it was, raised an eyebrow in an exaggerated manner.

“He’s not home? But it’s Christmas!”

“He’s still got work.” The boy responded plainly. And that was the end of that. “Where are we going?”

Larry shrugged and tried to appear mysterious. He puffed out his shoulders and grinned.

“Miles, my boy, I’ve made an overwhelming discovery.”

At this, the third child next to him began to squirm, and the young Miles realized why his other friend hadn’t said at single word yet. He reached out his bare hand and grabbed the large blue scarf that had been tightly wrapped around the other boy’s mouth, winding it away from his face.
Phoenix breathed heavily and held up an old gazette his mittened hands had been pawing. “He doesn’t know what ‘overwhelming’ means. He read it in the news.”

I didn’t know Larry ever learned how to read… Edgeworth frowned as he watched himself take the article from his friend’s hand and struggle over the fine print – it had been something about some sort of new chemistry.

The boy had handed the newspaper back to Phoenix and looked back at the mismatched boy.
“What’s he taking us to go see, Phoenix?” The spiky-haired boy was the more trustworthy of the two, but even he wasn’t sure.

“He won’t tell me. Been goin’ on how it’s a great surprise and all that…”
Larry had started to march off, gesturing for them to follow. He led in the front like a proud soldier, dodging carolers and merry-makers as he went. The other two boys paired off next, Edgeworth and Misty trailing behind them at a close range.

Phoenix looked up at Miles nervously, an anxious expression written in his eyes. “Miles, did your Father really say the streets were dangerous?”

The boy nodded his head solemnly. “There’s a nasty serial killer out there, he said. He said he’d never defend him if they catch him, not ever.”

His companion’s sapphire eyes sparked in childish fear. “But my mother’s making me go to church tonight! Will he…”

Miles looked concerned, biting his lip. He made himself smile anyway and pat the boy on his back. “It’s alright. Father said the killer only went after prostitutes, anyway. He’s not going to go after you if you go on the streets tonight.”

“You might want to tell Nick’s mum to stay home, though!”

Edgeworth heard a murmur behind him and he turned to see Misty covering her mouth in a slight laugh as the smaller boy punched the one in front of him.

“What the hell did you do that for?!” Someone’s shoe had come off, somehow, and Phoenix had taken to beating Larry across the head with it.

Edgeworth stopped cold for a second, looking with confusion at the fight going on before them. Misty paused behind him as he looked, seemingly shocked. She said nothing, concerned, but all the same she touched his back gently.

“Wait a moment…” Sometimes, it was hard to see the past, especially when one had changed so much.
But finally, he looked back at her with an expression so gentle that she nearly was surprised how quickly the man had seemed to progress back into a boy.
“…Why did they decide to use my shoe for this?”

Before the spirit could even laugh, the man had run to catch up with the children, dodging about as Larry escaped the wrath of the younger boy. Larry had run a good distance ahead and Phoenix had finally taken to cussing mildly and hurling the shoe at him.
Edgeworth ducked and it went over his head as the boys charged by him. How easy it had been, he noticed as he watched himself hop around madly on his only clothed foot, to forget his illness in such odd company…

He bent over carefully and looked at the small shoe before him. It was a normal, black leather shoe with buttons and strings – but it was so small! Had he really ever worn such a tiny thing?

The prosecutor reached for the boot, but already the boy with the blue scarf had snatched it from the snow bank, returning it dutifully to its owner.

“Sorry about that…” He rubbed his head sheepishly. “Not even sure why I went after yours, really, should have used my own…”

Before Miles could respond, Larry had yelled out from further up the street. “Come on! It’s just up here!”

Misty allowed Edgeworth to keep up with them as they ran ahead, choosing to trail behind. The man stopped short along with the children when Larry stopped them, prepared to reveal his discovery.
But his young counterpart had stopped for a different reason. A certain level of worry had been reached on his face, and he stepped away from the building.

“Let’s not go here…” He said quickly, preparing to turn back around. The color had left his face and he looked sickly once again.

But the mismatched boy glared. “But that’s where my special discovery is, Miles!”
“That’s the courthouse…”
His companion apparently hadn’t been aware. He looked at the building, shrugged, and looked back at his friend. “So?”

Even Phoenix had caught on. “Is your Father there?”
Father… The older Edgeworth had stepped back, trying to recall what would happen next. He moved away from the group and back to the ghost, almost in hopes that she would remind him. But Misty only smiled.

“He’s got a case, and if he sees me I’m going to be in so much trouble…”

Larry frowned. “But it’s Christmas! Why is he working on Christmas?”
“He said it was an emergency. It was an urgent case!”
“Well, if it’s an emergency he’s probably not going to look out and see if you’re being all good and behaved, is he?” The boy shook his head. . “Grow yerself a spine, mate.”

Phoenix broke the argument, interrupting. “Sorry, but what exactly is this thing you’ve been dying to show us?”

At his words, Larry grinned spreading out his arms and puffing out his chest once again.
“Gentlemen, I’ve made a discovery that could very well change the course of our futures.”

“And?”

“This discovery, if treated well, could bring us happiness in the future…”
He was reveling in the moment, filled to the brim with excitement. His friends were not. “What is it?”
“It’s amazing, really-“
“Larry.”

Larry rolled his eyes. “Fine, fine. Gentlemen, I’ve discovered…”
Edgeworth remembered what he was about to say just before he spoke.
“A girl.”

His two companions only looked at him, tilting their heads. Miles took a quick peek around the street, spotted a pair of women walking together, and pointed to them.
“I’ve found one too. Can we do something else now?”

But the great explorer merely shook his head, strutting around as if he had been knighted. “I found a young girl. One who might very well be attracted to handsome men like myself…”

Miles groaned and started to turn around, but Phoenix caught his shoulder, still curious.
“Is she pretty?”
“Pretty? She’s as beautiful and mysterious as the ever-changing sea, but as cold as the ice that freezes atop the harbor during the bitterest days of January…”

Misty could not contain her laughter as the boy with the blue scarf nudged Miles. “He read that in the newspaper too.”

“Shut up, you.” Larry reached out and gave his friend a whack before standing up straight again. “Are you going to come see her or not?”

Phoenix nodded his head and started to follow. Miles had been left with little choice, and even as he eyed the courthouse warily, he ran to catch up as they approached a small window.
The interior was not of the court itself, but instead of a small unfamiliar lobby. It was nearly entirely deserted save for the small creature who had set herself on a chair, her short legs dangling off of the seat. Her hair was an icy teal, pulled back in a ribbon that had been tied perfectly even on top of her head, and her face would indeed have been rather pretty had it not been framed by a stern-looking pout.

Larry pointed to the girl, who seemed to be listening intently to the going-ons of court inside. For some reason or another she had not been allowed in the actual trial, but she was leaning in as closely as she could from her seat to a large oak door that did little to muffle the yelling inside.

Phoenix crossed his arms and shook his head. “Larry, that isn’t a girl. That’s a kid.”
The mismatched boy protested. “Well sure, she’s a kid now. But aren’t you tired of all those girls our age? They all think we’re strange, is what it is.”

“Well at least you’re strange, there’s some truth in that...”
Larry grabbed Phoenix’s scarf with one hand and his shoulder with the other as he tightly wrapped the fabric back over the boy’s mouth. Sighing, he turned to his last hope.

“If we befriend her now, Miles, she’ll grow up thinking we’re the greatest old boys she’s ever known. And when she gets good and ready, her little girly mind will make a romantic connection with one of us.” He nodded triumphantly. “It’s a ready time to start planning for marriage, my boy.”

Miles only stared at him and he shrugged. Before he could be stopped, be began to bang on the window.
The small girl jumped out of her seat at the noise, falling to her feet as her head whipped towards the direction of the window. Her eyes turned to ice as she sent a piercing glare towards Larry’s general direction, and she rushed to shove up the glass pane.

Before he could say a word, she hissed at him. “Are you out of your mind? There’s a trial in session! You’ll distract them!”
She went to slam the glass back down, but Larry had quickly stuck his arm underneath the window. He winced as the pane slammed into his wrist, but grinned in bittersweet victory as she shoved it back open again.

“What do you want…”
“Come out and talk to us! You look lonely and we thought we’d give you some company on Christmas…”
She looked irate, but he still did not move his limb. “I’m listening. I’ve got to pay attention.”

“Come on now, miss…”
“Don’t you ‘miss’ me.” The girl grabbed the glass with both hands and Larry braced himself, trying still to look charming. Even Miles had closed his eyes, not wanting to see Larry’s arm splinter.
But the crack never came. The boy opened one eye to see that the girl had turned her steely gaze to him. Suddenly intimidated, he took a step backwards.

“Do I know you?” Her head titled in puzzlement and he shook his head, equally confused. “I think I’ve seen you before…”

She scrutinized him for a moment before something seemed to click.
“Your last name’s Edgeworth, isn’t it.” Miles nodded in confusion, and she scowled briefly and disappeared without a word from the window. A moment later, a door on the side of the courthouse opened and the small creature flounced out.
“What do you want?”

Larry immediately turned on the charm, offering her a scarily benevolent smile.
“Well, my friends and I were going to play, see, and we were thinking about throwing a few snowballs around…”

The girl seemed to be ignoring him, her gaze still on Miles. He offered a smile himself, but she merely glared in response.
“…So it’s just not fair, you understand, to have a team of two against one person. So we thought you’d like to play with us.”

Larry held his breath as the girl looked at him quickly. She seemed to be thinking hard, and finally she folded her arms.
“I don’t want to be on his team.” She sent a nod in Miles’s direction, and the mismatched boy grinned.

“Already wanting to be on my team? Excellent, excellent.” He had taken on his misinformed mature personality, and as he began to walk towards a pile of snow he patted her on the back. “You’ll make a good wife someday.”

The girl struck him in the stomach. “I’m not going to marry anyone.”
Larry chuckled even as he clutched his stomach. “What are you going to do with yourself, then?”
She had no hesitations. “I’m going to be a prosecutor! Just like my Papa!”
“But girls can’t be lawyers-ah!” The creature had thrown him to the ground with a simple shove, and Miles approached her with cautioned interest.

“Your Father’s a prosecutor?” He asked kindly, and a surge of pride ran through the little stranger’s face. She nodded vigorously.
“He’s the best one in all of the world!”
Miles grinned. “My Father’s a lawyer too.”

At that, the girl stopped short in the snow. She gave him another snarl and for a moment he was frightened she’d push him to the ground as well.

“Your father’s a defense attorney, and a second rate one at that.”
She continued to glare at him as he decided it would be best not to say anything more. Suddenly she extended her arm to him, and he tentatively shook it.

“My name is Franziska von Karma.” The girl announced. He nodded.
“Miles Edgeworth.”
“Lawrence Butz…” Larry had gotten back up and stuck his arm into the fray as well. She pushed him again and he toppled back over.

“Nice to meet you…” Perhaps one more smile would soothe her? No such thing.

“That wasn’t an introduction, Miles Edgeworth.” Franziska had dropped his hand and bent over into the snow, her leather-gloved hands carefully forming the white powder into a thick, compact ball. “Papa says it’s important that you tell your opponent your name, so that they remember it when they lose.”

Miles felt the snow hit his face, just missing his glasses and instead leaving an icy wet spot on his cheek. As he wiped the stuff off, he saw another ball fly past him and explode onto the pavement.
He reached into the cold with his bare hands, his fingers numb as he tried to launch an attack – but the girl was too fast. He had to duck as another chunk of ice came whizzing at him, and hurling the half-finished propellant behind him, the boy decided it would be best to run.

Phoenix, who had by default become his teammate, had agreed. The two charged through the street in front of the courthouse, seeking shelter behind another large bank some poor sap had shoveled out of the road. The scarf on his friend’s face had come loose, and the boy prodded Miles’s shoulder in fear.
“I’m going to kill Larry for this…”

The footsteps of their attackers were loud enough that Miles could hear them charging across the street. Quickly, he shoved Phoenix out of the way and dodged just as the two came trampling into the bank, falling over the mountain of snow. Larry took to tackling Nick, pinning him down onto the ground, but Franziska was not satisfied.
“Stay still!” She demanded of Miles, hoisting another ball of snow into the air. Her frustration was evident; besides her initial attack, she had not been able to hit him once.
A few more attacks fell fruitlessly onto the ground, and for a moment it seemed she had given up. Cautiously, the boy stopped running to see her look around the street. Franziska’s eyes had caught onto a parked carriage, the horses tethered and the passengers non-existent. Her face lit up into a dark gleam, and eagerly she hurried towards it.
He watched in confusion as she expertly climbed up into the driver’s seat and rooted around for something. The girl’s face lit up as she seized something long and dark, and he realized it was in his best interest to start running again as she jumped down from the abandoned carriage fully armed.

The first crack of the short riding whip he was able to avoid, but as Franziska caught up to him he found himself painfully in her range. Flawlessly she cracked the weapon so fiercely that even Edgeworth and Miss Fey winced as young Miles went falling to the ground, the tip of the crop having struck him on the side.

Once he was on the ground she abandoned the weapon for the snow on the ground, burying it into his face. Had he not begun to laugh, she would have gone on to break his nose.
Instead, Franziska stopped, her knees still holding down his chest.

“Why are you laughing, Miles Edgeworth? You’ve lost!”

He’d lost, that was true. But he was smiling.

“Because.” The boy laughed, struggling to breathe under her. “I’m having fun!”

Franziska dumped more snow down his shirt. “Fun? Losing isn’t fun!”
‘
Furious, she reached for the whip again and he raised his hands to cover his face, still gasping for air.

The blow never came, and instead the girl slid off of him as a man rushed towards the boy. “Miles!”

Edgeworth turned his head quickly, watching the man rush from the courtroom and into the snow to pull his young self out. For what he predicted would not be the last time that night, he had been badly shocked.
Father!

“What in God’s name…” Gregory Edgeworth had nearly dragged the boy away from the girl, shaking. “What are you doing here? You’re sick, Miles! You’re supposed to be in bed…”

Edgeworth heard a rustle behind him. Larry and Phoenix had been cowering behind the snow bank, watching as the older man picked up his son, trembling. The two boys exchanged glances as Larry mouthed out the word “run.” A moment later, they had taken off down the street.

“I’m alright, Father…” Miles said nervously. But his jacket had been torn and his fingers had started to darken; at the thought of upsetting Father, his cough had returned and the boy began to double over.

Meanwhile, another man had left the courthouse, immediately giving off a different air than Gregory had. Edgeworth spared him a look and nearly felt his heart sink into his stomach.
The man had begun to stride towards them as Franziska turned her head to see him coming.

“Papa!” She rushed towards him, and as he came into better view it was easy to see the same streak of pride as his daughter etched onto his face. He was taller than Gregory and considerably older, the lines on his eyes paralyzed in an angry look. Prosecutor Von Karma was dressed far more finely then the defense attorney, his blue jacket far more professional looking than Gregory’s old black jacket. But the most catching thing about him was something that couldn’t even be given a word – it was some sort of furious emotion about his eyes.
Did lack of emotion count as an emotion? For no one was as passionately heartless as Manfred von Karma.

Gregory tried to ignore him as he brushed the snow off his son, but the man had already started laughing. Edgeworth felt a chill rush up his spine. He had gotten used to Von Karma after a handful of years alongside him, but back then it had frightened him more than anything else.

“Did you win, Papa?” Franziska had asked loudly, standing besides his tall leg. Miles had glared at her sullenly as the prosecutor surveyed the two, appearing amused.

“Do you even have to ask, Franziska?” He smirked and Miles glared harder. Flustered, Father had grabbed his hand and started pull him off down the street, but the older man thrust his cane in front of him, stopping the two.

“It’s a shame your son’s so small, Edgeworth. He won’t be able to protect himself from those dangerous little girls…”
It was hard to tell who had blushed harder, the father or the son. Gregory said nothing as he stared into the street. The moment the cane was lowered he pushed Miles forward and took off, not looking back.

The two walked in silence down the road. Edgeworth resisted the urge to run up to his father and apologize – he had been a stupid child, he had never wanted to make him fret! He stared at him for the first time in years, drinking in the kind stature and soft lines of the man.
I almost forgot what he looked like. He turned to Misty, unable to express his gratitude – and stopped in his tracks at the expression on her face.

She was unable to take her eyes off the man as well, it seemed. A broken, admiring pity had taken over her every feature in an indescribable combination; but when she saw her ward stare, she shook her head and smiled tragically again.
“Are you remembering anything?” He nodded as he trudged his feet along. Slowly, he was getting used to watching himself skirt throughout the streets of London – in fact, it was nearly becoming enjoyable. For a while, he questioned whether to ask Misty if he could just stay here for a while.

“Are you the only ghost of…Christmases past, was it?” He asked instead, trying to steer her concentration away from the silent pair in front of them. Each time she looked up, she seemed to grow more and more pained.

The ghost turned and shook her head, nearly laughing at the very thought. “Oh, no! Of course not, Miles. There’s far too many people who need our guidance for there to only be one of me…”
“Did you choose to come here? Or did it just…occur?”

It had started to snow. Edgeworth had noticed that while the people did not see him, the weather cared little about such details of ghost and man. The white was beginning to stack up on his shoulders and the flakes caught in his companion’s hair, making her look only more beautiful.
Yet he couldn’t help but notice that the more beautiful her face, all the more tragic was her smile.

“Sometimes, we can have a way of making our requests.” She brushed the snow out of her hair with one swooping motion. “If we have a reason for re-visiting a past, of course…”

He waited patiently for her to explain her reasoning as he looked back in front of them. Young Miles had started to shiver in the snowfall, his illness rushing back to him, and Father caught notice of it quickly.
“Miles, you should have at least brought a warmer coat…” He removed the jacket from his shoulders and placed it over his son, who looked up in a guilty gratitude. Hesitantly, the boy tugged the jacket close to him; Gregory found himself with only a thin dress shirt protecting his skin.

The ghost frowned and stepped forward towards the man, removing her own cape from her shoulders. To Edgeworth’s surprise she reached towards Gregory and draped the cape around him so that he stood back up straight, no longer needing to huddle against his folded arms.

She rejoined the young man’s side, her arm linking around his in a way he suspected she didn’t realize.
“Why…”

He cut himself off as a younger, shabbier Misty Fey entered his line of sight. This was the Miss Fey he was used to; the kind-hearted tattered mother of two who had lived around the corner from his childhood home. She had parcels and packages under her arms that looked nothing like presents, and as she passed the Edgeworth family she nearly sent them all to the ground.

Gregory looked up at her and smiled a bit, tipping his hat as she bowed towards him. “Good afternoon, Miss Fey…”

His voice was still somber and the young woman slowed down, tucking her things with care under her arm. She approached him cautiously as he showed no signs of stopping for her.
“What brings you out here on Christmas?” Misty’s face was flushed from the cold as well, but she smiled all the same. “Without a coat, no less! You must be freezing…”

She couldn’t see the warm cape about his shoulders, Edgeworth understood. He was slowly beginning to understand the logic of the supernatural – we can see what they cannot, comprehend what humans dismiss as unexplainable…

“I’m rather warm, actually.” Gregory responded as he continued his brisk pace. He seemed to sense the cool way he had spoken and found himself turning around to look back at her. The woman had tried to hide it, but Edgeworth had seen her face fall.

The attorney reached for her shoulder in a kind gesture, an unspoken apology. “But thank you, anyways. I just had some work to finish up. It’s over now…”

“I’ll let you go on, then. You’ll want to be home with your son at this hour.” The woman waved her fingers at the little boy, who eagerly waved back. Before he could say any more, she had started back off down the street, calling over her shoulder.
“A Happy Christmas to you, Mr. Edgeworth!”

Gregory had responded in the affirmative and as the younger Misty hurried away, it suddenly occurred to Edgeworth that the red on her face had nothing to do with the cold.

The ghost besides him pushed him gently away from her, blushing herself as she answered the question had hadn’t been able to finish asking.
“I needed to be sure he was telling the truth.”

Edgeworth understood everything he hadn’t caught up on as a child at that moment. And my father thought he went unloved…

He stared straight ahead, stranded in a moment of realization. The words came to his mouth only as the old brick house came into view.
“…Did you ever tell him?”

She frowned for a moment before sighing softly. “You seem determined, Miles, to delve into everyone else’s past but your own.”

The grey sky had started to dim rapidly as the snow trickled off into nothing. Time was moving at the leisure of the supernatural again – not years, as before, but merely a few hours till nightfall…

By the time he had arrived at his front door, nearly every light in the street had been extinguished, leaving stars to pattern the sky.

His companion reached for the doorknob, opening it up carefully as to not make a noise. Her tender eyes caught his and she smiled once more.
“Welcome home, Miles.”

It wasn’t the time for thinking rationally. Without any expectation left in his head, Edgeworth closed his eyes and stepped through the door.

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*whips you*
Franziska, I should have known. You sneaky girl. :B

Larry's quite eloquent, isn't he? xD Quite silly indeed.
Quite delightful.

And poor Misty. My Gregs/Misty fangirl is going berserk right about now.

We do have "prosecutors" within the Crown Prosecution Service but it didn't exist prior to 1880. You just had lawyers and people employed them to either prosecute or defend depending on what they needed.

As for apartments - people took "rooms" or "lodgings". Like Sherlock Holmes XD

Anyway, that aside. Lovely Part Two, Mercs! Beautiful writing as always and gosh I sound like a broken record but it IS!

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Rii: Thank you, my darling. <33

KingMobUK: *goes to edit* I'll just change prosecutor with lawyer and fix up Ema's little scene, there.

XD You used to critique me, you know *thwacks on head* But I appreciate your love, especially from the goddess of the kink meme.

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Positively darling. The dust-up between Miles and Franziska was hilarious! Congratulations are also in order for perfectly capturing Manfred's sense of humor. Great stuff!

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Thank you so much. ^_^

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Hey everyone. Second part of past here - yes, this is taking far longer than I thought it would, since his past is not freaking done yet. But please, enjoy!

Just a side note - I'm aware that in the 19th century, there was no such thing as a prosecutor or a defense attorney (thanks very much to KingMobUK!). However, for the purposes of this story I humbly ask everyone just to go along with what I've written. Thank you very much for understanding I sort of need the distinction for plot purposes.

Please enjoy!

Part Three: City of Romantics


The knock on the door had come just as he watched the clock strike ten-thirty. Gregory Edgeworth had been staring at the face of the old grandfather clock in a daze, unable to sleep or even think on his own. It had taken a moment for the knock to register in his mind – someone’s here? – but once it had, he had hurried quickly out through the hall and to the front foyer.

He cracked it open carefully at first, swinging it open entirely as his eyes caught those of Misty Fey. She was standing alone on the doorstep, her thin hands wringing themselves as she forced herself to keep his gaze. So often, she looked away from him whenever they spoke; she didn’t seem to realize she was pleasant to look at.

“What are you doing out here? It’s dangerous at this time of night! There’s some killer we’re after on the loose, you know…”

The woman looked at him with a hint of guilt in her eyes. “I…”
“And your girls! They’re not home alone, are they…”

“With their aunt and her daughters.” Misty pulled her gray jacket closer, still not taking her eyes off of him. “I don’t get along with my sister, but our children like to see each other during the holidays…”

She trailed off slowly and sighed at his confused look. “I’m really sorry to bother you. I just wanted to make sure that you were all right, Mr. Edgeworth.”

Gregory raised an eyebrow and she cut him off before he could even ask.
“It’s foolish, I know, but you seemed so unhappy earlier today…” She folded her hands and for the first time, looked away from him. “I was worried.”

The weariness was evident in his face even as he began to deny his exhaustion. Dark bags were clear below his eyes even as he hid them behind his thick glasses and she hardly listened as he shook his head, claiming to be in decent condition.
“Miss Fey, really, I’m feeling fine…”

Her hand reached out for his shoulder and he stopped speaking as Misty again tried to smile.

“No one should look that way on Christmas day, Mr. Edgeworth.”

His face softened considerably, his façade of bravery dissolving before her eyes. Wordlessly, he stepped away from the door, allowing her entrance as her spirit watched from the hall.


Edgeworth had never heard his father talk as much as he did in the following hour. He had discussed trials with his son before, but their conversations had been more of little Miles peppering the older man with a plethora of questions than anything else. Misty had scarcely even said a word to him once the dam inside of him had been broken. She only listened intently as he paced the parlor, muttering thoughts he would never want his young son to hear.

“It’s just so hard to explain - I truly thought I had saved my client today. I honestly thought I could actually have this one, and then…” Gregory pressed his hand to his face in frustration. “He does it again. A second weapon? If that knife was even legitimate he obviously had it concealed the whole time. The police had only found the first knife!”

She touched his shoulder kindly as he sat back down besides her, his eyes to the rug below. “They wouldn’t let me even look at the knife. There was no time, they told me and that the trial had gone on long enough…Von Karma pulled it out and everything was all over. Makes me wonder why he didn’t just pull it out and brandish it in my face at the start of this whole mess. He probably just wanted to make us think we had won first, it’s what he always does…”

The attorney pushed his glasses up on his nose, finally beginning to struggle for words. The woman had moved closer to him, her hand now on his arm.

“It’s just…” Gregory started again. “It’s just that she was innocent. Everyone knew she didn’t kill her husband – he knew too, I’m sure of it. But she’s still going to be hanged tomorrow…”

Misty winced, as did her ghost. Edgeworth leaned against the doorway, trying to digest it as well…he’d sent enough criminals to the gallows, but he didn’t typically associate such an act with his kind father.

“You’re not going to go, are you?” The woman besides him asked with concern. “To the hanging, I mean…”

“Why shouldn’t I?” The attorney shook his head, laughing bitterly. “Maybe once I see my client’s neck dangling from a rope, I’ll win a trial.”

He had started speaking loudly, the rage he had hidden for so long building back up in his throat. In a fury, he had stood up again, but before long she was reaching for him again.

She wrapped her arms as high as she could reach around his shoulders, pressing herself against him in an attempt to calm him down. Whether it was politically correct or not for her to do such a thing was irrelevant. She hadn’t been able to help herself.
“Shush. You’ll wake Miles.”

He had tensed at her embrace, unsure what to make of it at first. The motion served its purpose - he was quieted, that was for certain. Awkwardly Gregory fumbled with his arms, determined to return the gesture somehow. He had settled for lightly placing his hands on her back, barely pressing against her at all.
“I’m sorry…” It was difficult to tell if he was apologizing for being so loud or for his nervous response to her kindness.

The man sighed, truly apologetic. “I’m going to go. If only because she won’t have anyone else there, the dear – but I’ll be the last gawking fool she’ll want to see there, I’m sure…”

Misty still hadn’t moved from his arms and his face was beginning to run red with a blush. Unable to do anything else, he continued to talk aimlessly.
“I just don’t know how he can live with himself, condemning an innocent woman all for the sake of a perfect record…”

The hands on his back began to move. “You’re doing it again…”
She had looked up from his chest, catching his eye in such a way that all of his words were lost from him. A few stumbled out, the last few drops of water in an empty pail.
“Doing…what again?” He barely could make out anything coherent as he became more and more trapped by the far smaller woman…

As obvious as her intentions had been to the onlookers, the kiss took Gregory entirely by surprise. The moment was gentle – she had not gone to corner him into succumbing. She was merely there to comfort, as the motherly girl had always been. She’d always been a comfort, hadn’t she? She was smiling in all of Edgeworth’s memories; her hands wiping away restrained tears he shed after any sort of minor trauma, her voice applauding his mediocre childish achievements. Misty Fey had eternally been the woman down the street; his father’s good friend, the only other parent on the block who didn’t share their home with another adult.

Miles would have never guessed as a child that she provided such a comfort to his father as well.

The man fumbled trying to kiss her back; he’d lean in crooked and retreat out of shock before they touched, his glasses accidentally hitting the top of her cheek as he pulled away. But with a bit of guidance he managed to lock back in, slowly discovering where to place his arms around her…

All at once their clothes began to change; a dark jacket had begun to materialize on his arms over a less-rumpled dress coat as a tie knotted itself around his neck. Misty’s dark locks had been let down around her neck and her dress had hued from a drab grey to a nearly elegant black. Neither of their eyes were coated in exhaustion – the bags had been erased from their faces entirely. As his father expressed a look of utmost joy, Edgeworth turned to look at the ghost, realizing that time had been turned once again.

A newspaper had appeared from the dust next to Edgeworth. He turned his head slightly and glimpsed the headline.

Suspected Murder Proved Innocent. The lettering screamed, and he could almost hear a street boy bellow out “Extra! Extra!” in a thick accent. He remembered reading the article proudly, the other news irrelevant. Father had saved the man’s life!

He hadn’t had to ask Father about the trial that time – everyone knew the details. Prosecutor Von Karma had tipped the police off himself about a man everyone swore was responsible for the rash of murders that had terrorized London throughout the past year or so, and the job of the defense had ended up in Gregory’s originally unwilling lap. He’d been found standing over the body of the most recent victim, a girl most hailed as the last dead prostitute they’d seen in a long time…

The court case had shaken up London, turning it into a city where gossip ran even more rampant for nearly a month. A witness who swore the guilty party had been with them the whole time had been dismissed due to chronic intoxication. Footprints in the snow had been examined and re-examined, the amount of blood debated over violently. Although the favor was always tilted just slightly towards Von Karma’s side, the whole city was watching as the defense battled valiantly, dragging out every detail he could muster from his opponent’s carefully scripted witnesses.

And finally, Von Karma had slipped. Having been swept up in his own ego, he had allowed his opponent to cross-examine a witness one last time in a show of snobbery…
The truth had unraveled, slowly – other footprints showed someone else had been there, and the witness had seen two men. The second – his client – had rushed there after the murder had taken place. Once the two men had been distinguished…

It had been all over, the papers had said.

Gregory had acted as calm as ever at his win, a smile playing on his face as London congratulated him. He had laughed slightly when his son had declared it “the best Christmas Eve ever”, but here with the woman he certainly seemed to be at his happiest…

Their conversation was nearly over by the time the ghosts had arrived to eavesdrop. Misty was standing up, her eyes on the time as she spoke.
“So now that your client was innocent, the real murderer is still out there?” She asked, and he shrugged.

“It’s better that we know. If he’d been pronounced guilty, the real murderer would still be off killing and we wouldn’t know until another victim showed up.”

He was modest, never referring to the trial as a win – only as the truth.

“The city must be grateful to you, then. Now they’ve got another chance to find him before he strikes again…”

“Grateful now, anyway. London changes its colors far too often – just the other day I was a heartless demon for defending a sure murderer…” But he still smiled as the woman reached for her coat, heading for the door.

“It’s almost dark out. I need to go make sure the girls are alright.” Misty wrapped her arms around him quickly, something he appeared to be slowly getting used to. The attorney nodded his head and escorted her out to the foyer, passing the onlookers.
“Happy Christmas, then. Be careful on your way home…”
“I will!” She promised, opening the door. As she disappeared out into the street, she waved with a grin.
“I’ll see you tomorrow!”

The farewell was a happy one, but it had struck an ominous chord in Edgeworth’s stomach. If this was the day he thought it was, there wasn’t going to be any such tomorrow…
Before Gregory had closed the door, the sky had gone entirely black. The grandfather clock, which before had been positioned at five o’clock, was now chiming midnight.

He turned to the ghost in horror as he realized what was about to occur. “I don’t want to watch this. Take me home, Miss Fey. I don’t want to see…”
“You have to. It’s why I’m here…” She frowned and shook her head. “If I only showed you the good things that occurred, you’d never understand what happened to you…”
“I know what happened!” He stood up in the hall, anxious and frightened as he heard footsteps thump against the front step. “This isn’t a memory I’ve forgotten! Miss Fey, you can’t want to watch this either…”

He looked up at her as he paced frantically, trying to get away from fate. Tears had welled up in her eyes, but still she shook her head. “I never said this job would be very easy for any of us…”

The doorknob began to rattle fiercely and he covered his face with his hands in a child-like manner. “I’m not watching this. I won’t…”
Misty’s voice pervaded his ears against the sound of the door being forced open, soothing the violence in the background.
“Oh, Miles.” She sighed, holding the grown man close to her in her motherly way. “You’re never going to learn to change if you keep your eyes closed all the time…”

But she didn’t rip his hands away and instead placed her own over them as well, hiding his sight from the horrors occurring in the next room. The man shook violently as he heard yells, then the sound of furniture hitting the ground…
And finally, a gunshot.

Someone stomped out of the room and into the hallway, leaving just as there was a commotion upstairs. His younger self had been rudely awakened by the gun, and the patter of small feet passed him as he remembered rushing downstairs to find out what had occurred…

Edgeworth heard himself gasp and whimper. As Miles started crying, he realized he had been sobbing the whole time as well.

Suddenly the whole room was chaotic – a plethora of different voices were bouncing around the hall. He pulled away from the ghost and looked around carefully.
His normally peaceful home was bustling with policemen, the parlor isolated from the rest of the house. Nervously Edgeworth walked forward, leaving the ghost behind.

“Bit of a shame for the chap, getting murdered on Christmas…”
“And at the peak of his career! Just yesterday he was doing so well…”

Snippets of conversation hit him as he floated past them, unnoticed, but he paid very little attention to the idle chatter of the police…

Unexpectedly, he turned a corner and stumbled upon himself. The little boy had retreated to the far end of the hall to stand and stare out at nothing.
Miles wasn’t crying any more, although traces of tears still coated his eyes. His soft face lacked any hint of a single emotion, his entire being numb. Awkwardly the boy held a brown cloth bag in his left hand, the handle slowly beginning to slip from his fingers…

Edgeworth reached out his own hand, touching the boy’s chin gently. The creature didn’t respond at all.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if it was that murderer out there who did him in…”
“Ah, that’s true. Whoever that killer is probably isn’t too pleased with the outcome of the trial…”
“Doesn’t look like it though. Seems to be the work of an amateur burglar…”

The front door swung open with a loud bang, causing most of the men to jump as the sobbing woman rushed inside. Misty Fey was no longer calm and cheery as she had been merely hours ago – she was almost as pale as the little boy.

“Where is he? Where is his son…” She looked around frantically for the child as an officer went to restrain her. “I need to get him out of here!”

Most of the police had chosen to ignore her, going back to the investigation. The unlucky few that were close to the door sighed as they went to deal with the wild woman.
“Miss, you have to leave. No one is allowed inside.”
“I promised him! I promised Gregory that if anything ever happened, I’d make sure Miles was…”

She wrenched out of the arms that held her back and charged down the hallway, catching sight of the boy. “Miles!”
The boy looked up at her with an unchanging blank stare before looking back out into space.

Another man caught Misty again before she could approach him. The emotionless child had been enough to make her burst into tears again.
“You have to catch who did this to them! He murdered the whole family! Even his son looks just as lifeless…”
“We’re looking into it, Miss. We believe the killer to be a thief – Mr. Edgeworth was just unlucky, was all…”

The woman looked appalled. “Unlucky? You think this was random?”
“Just the wrong place at the wrong time.”
She shook her head in disgust. “It wasn’t a thief, I can tell you! Investigate that awful man! I’ll bet you anything that awful prosecutor did it, he was livid over that filthy record of his being broken...”

A particularly bushy cop raised his eyebrow. “…Who?”
“I’m telling you! Arrest Prosecutor Von…”

“Mr. Von Karma, it’s so good of you to come…”
Misty whirled around, her eyes wide. The very man had just stepped in the doorway, his hard cane striking the ground with every step he took.

“Him! Arrest him!” The woman cried out senselessly, unable to control herself. Von Karma gave her an odd look before briskly walking forward towards the man who had greeted him.

“It’s not a problem of mine.”
“You don’t mind taking the boy, then?”
The pale man shook his head, crossing his arms.
“I’ve heard rumors the boy is bright. It would be a shame to see the son of Gregory Edgeworth waste away on the streets when he has so much potential.”

The girl gasped in horror and started to struggle again. “He can’t! He can’t go live with him! He needs to go with me! I promised his father!”
Again, Manfred gave her a look, but he strode down the hallway to the small boy, nearly walking right into the ghost. The prosecutor leaned down and caught the bag in his hand just before it slipped from the child’s fingers.
“Good, you’re already packed.” He said briskly, handing the bag back to the boy with mild disinterest. Silently Miles held the cloth sack to his chest and started to follow the man obediently like an automaton toy. “We’ll get out of your way, then. Carry on with the investigation…”

“You can’t do this!” Misty lunged for the boy and was dragged backwards. “He’s a murderer!”
The man turned on the balls of his heels, rotating towards her ever so slightly.

“Excuse me?” His tone was enough to make chills run down the back of Edgeworth’s spine, but the woman seemed unfazed.
“Don’t you lie to me! I know you did it! How else could you have known to come so quickly?! You murdered him, I loved him…”

Von Karma shook his head and cast a look at the policeman holding her back.
“I have very little interest in the ridiculous ramblings of a mad whore…”
“-I am no such thing…”

A snap filled the air and Misty winced as the cane struck her ankles. Her body gave out and she started to fall, but the prosecutor caught her by the neck before she hit the ground.
The little boy hadn’t moved.

“You think I got here early? I was called here nearly after the body was found – a messenger gave me a letter an hour ago. When things like this happen to my colleagues, I am allowed to find out.”

She struggled against his hands as more tears fell from her face. “You lie…”
“However, I’m quite surprised that you seem to have known exactly when to come. I doubt anyone would bother sending a girl like you any sort of news…”

He raised an eyebrow. “It’s rather suspicious, then, how you knew to come. Why, just that little contradiction would be enough for me to have you convicted for the murder of Gregory Edgeworth…”

Edgeworth felt his fist tense. He did not remember any of this, and now that his past had been placed in a whole new light his respect for his mentor was beginning to dwindle…

Misty shook her head against his hands in hysterics. “I would never! I…”
“Then I suggest you let me take the boy.”

As she cried, he dropped her to the ground and headed for the door, gesturing for Miles to follow. Before the child could leave, she screamed out one last time.
“Don’t listen to a word he says!” The police had given up on treating her in a docile manner and had begun to wrap her wrists in handcuffs. “Miles, don’t let your father’s work go in vain! You mustn’t!”

He didn’t look up at her as he walked out of the door, his face still frozen in a testimony to agony. The door slammed behind the child, and suddenly the house was empty once again.

Edgeworth was shaking as he turned to Misty’s ghost in agony.
“I’ve had enough! You’ve proven to me my mentor was unrespectable…”

She shook her head in sorrow.
“…We’ve scarcely scratched the tip of your past. Have you forgotten that things did, in fact, get better for you?”

Misty’s hand intertwined with his as he trembled. “You worked with Von Karma for years.”

“Locked up in that room for six years, yes, with mountains of case files for company…” The man quivered as the woman ran a hand through his hair.

“But you were never forgotten, were you?” He felt the world change beneath his feet once again, the dizzying colors in time to another familiar voice…

“Miles! Miles?”

He was standing in a dimly lit room, his leg brushing against a stout wooden desk covered in paperwork. Seated neatly at the desk was a studious-looking teenager pouring over a case file, an ink pen in hand. The young man possessed a stern expression highlighted by his tired eyes, and his prematurely graying hair added to the sense of humble maturity the boy carried on his shoulders.

A snowball struck the window behind him, exploding onto the glass. The teenager looked up in surprise, frowned, and put down his pen. Edgeworth followed the boy as he went to the window, pulling it up in one steady motion.

Another teenager, a younger-looking one, was staring up at him as his arm wildly waved. He was hard to see in the dark from the second floor of the manor, but Edgeworth could make out a blue scarf and dark, spiky hair…

“Phoenix?” It had been years since Miles had seen his old chums from the middle-class, and the boy could scarcely believe the forgotten friend was standing below him. “What are you doing here?”

Phoenix whispered as loud as he could, waving his hand. “I’ve got somewhere to take you! I’ve come to get you out of here!”

Miles frowned. “I can’t leave! I’ve got a lot of work…”
“Just for the night! There’s a place I want to take you! There will be lots of people there, and you’ll have a grand time, I swear…”

“I…” The young man was tempted, it was easy to see, and he mentally struggled against his learned discipline and his childish desire.

“Come on! I’ll have you back before anyone notices, I swear!”

The childish fantasy had won out. Hesitantly, he nodded and closed the window, reaching for a long black jacket that had been hung on the side of his desk.

Misty and Edgeworth followed him as he opened the door carefully as to not make a creak. Without opening it all the way, he managed to slide through the crack he had made before taking off down the hallway silently.

The forgotten hallway was made fresh in Edgeworth’s mind as he passed through, taking in the musty embroidered blue wallpaper and the short navy carpet. The supernatural was something he had grown to expect, and still it managed to surprise him every so often…

His teenage self slowed down while passing a certain door, eying it warily. Loud voices were coming from it – an argument between a man and a woman. Miles crept by the door before breaking into a run down the rest of the hallway and charging down the stairs. Moments later, he was out in the snow, his friend in sight.

He could hardly believe it. “Phoenix, what’s going on?”

The other boy grinned. “My mentor told me to come look for you. She was having a get-together, and someone brought up your name…”

“My name?” Miles frowned. “What sort of get-together?”

“It’s mostly legal students. I’m apprenticed to be an attorney, Miles! Can you believe it?” Phoenix grabbed his friend’s arm in excitement. “My mentor was one of the first women to go to University. I think you knew her. Mia Fey?”

Mia had barely been a teenager the last time Miles had seen her. He had lived down the street from her – from what he recalled, she had been intelligent. They didn’t speak often, but when they had it had been pleasant.
“I think so, yes.”

“I overheard a friend of hers talking about other students, and your name came up. I said I knew you and they told me to go invite you…”
“You didn’t comment, then, that you hadn’t seen me in six years?”

Phoenix frowned a little bit and decided to ultimately ignore the comment. “They sounded excited to meet you. You have to come…”

The boy frowned in an unsure manner. “I’m not very interested in other people…”
“They’re not strangers, Miles, they’re all my friends! And besides, you’ve come all the way down here…”

Before he could respond affirmatively, the door to the manor creaked open. Both of the boys whipped around to see a tall girl shrouded in a black cloak and gowned in a light blue. Miles felt his heart sink as the girl’s glare bore into him.

Phoenix had frozen to the spot. He hadn’t come to fetch Miles before out of fear of being caught by a mentor rumored merciless. Although his desire to please and excitement over his old friend had temporarily overridden that fear, it was clear that he had begun to regret ever coming.

The girl walked towards them briskly, her head held high as her boots crunched into the snow. As she approached the pair, she began to address Phoenix sternly.

“You’re a very loud whisperer.” She commented dryly, throwing back her cloak. “You’re lucky I heard you before Papa did so I could start an argument with him.” So Miles hadn’t been as quiet as he had thought. Gratefully, he nodded towards her in appreciation, but remained just as firm.
“Franziska, go back inside…”
She shook her head. “I’m not sneaking back in after all that fuss. He’s angry with me already…”

“You can’t tell him, Franziska.”

The girl folded her hands and tilted her head gravely.
“Take me with you and I won’t.” She said stubbornly, her stare unwavering. Her arms had been crossed elegantly, and her feet planted firmly to the ground.

Normally, Franziska didn’t ask him for anything. She reveled in being more independent then Miles, mocking him whenever possible. Even so he waited with baited breath to see when she would laugh and yell for her father. Last he knew, she hated other people.

But she was waiting for an answer. Miles bit his lip and looked over at Phoenix, who squirmed uncomfortably in the snow.
“I was only supposed to come get Miles…” He admitted.

“You’ll take me with you, or I’ll go in and scream, and no one will be going to any sort of party tonight.”

Without consulting his friend, the teenager nodded his head in approval. Franziska’s look softened only slightly as she pushed the two boys forward down the street.
“Get out of here, before he sees us.” The three made their way down the avenue in silence, turning the corner as quickly as they could. When they had, Miles swore he heard Phoenix breath a sigh of relief.

He turned to his friend and began to converse, Franziska flanking his left side in silence. “You’re truly going to be an attorney, then?”

Nick nodded his head, pulling back his scarf. “I wanted to be one like you. I thought maybe we could work together, someday…”
Franziska snorted and Miles ignored her. “Maybe, yeah.”

After six years, they were no longer used to each other. The two best friends struggled to make conversation, neither of them sure how exactly the other would respond.
“But you’ve been studying law for a long time, haven’t you? Being a defense attorney is hard…I mean, I’m not going to give up on it, but…” He sighed nervously, feeling belittled. “You’re far more advanced than I am. Do you have any advice?”

Miles laughed quietly. “Of course. Switch sides.”
Nick frowned. “Switch…you mean, to prosecution?”
This time, Franziska chimed in before Miles could. “Unless you want to stay on the losing team – just makes our job easier.”

The boy had never looked more surprised. “You too, Miles?”
“Well, you can either try and get lesser charges for the scum of the earth, or you can lock up anyone who dares cross you…”
“That’s what Papa says.” Franziska was beginning to sound more like her normal self, the pride written all over her face. Miles nodded in agreement.

Phoenix nodded politely. “I’ll…consider it…”

Edgeworth knew he never would. Striding behind them, he frowned, looking back at the ghost.
“Was he really so surprised?”
Misty shrugged her fine shoulders. “Coming from the boy who he last knew wanted to defend the innocent, it was a great surprise.”

Nick said very little for the rest of the walk. His eyes lit up upon approaching a corner, and he ran ahead in a sudden jolt of energy. “This way!”
Around the bend was a friendly-looking building brimming with a warm glow. He rushed up to the door and wrestled with the knob expertly, finally resorting to kicking it open with a creak.

“Come on, come on!” He waved the pair in, disappearing into the light. Miles and Franziska quickly exchanged looks – his of mild interest, hers of unexpected hesitation – and stepped inside together.
The room was small and wooden with a strong cozy feel to it, and immediately the teenager felt welcome. The fire blazing in the small hearth was roaring, unlike the solemn baking coals that heated his own office. Although the small hall was scarce in terms of decorations, the guests provided enough color of their own to add spirit to the room.

Phoenix led them throughout the maze of laughter, Miles by his side. It was as if the warm atmosphere had broken the chill between them; for at least that night, nothing had changed. “This way, Miles…you’re so slow…”

Finally he came across two brown-haired women chattering nonchalantly in the corner, their faces kind. The girl on the right was a bit shorter and a bit louder, her expression more openly jovial and innocent. He recognized her almost instantly as Mia Fey, but the other girl…

She wasn’t shy as much as she was independent, her slim face serious and calm. The woman stood with poise, making her look taller than she actually was, and she carried herself with a gentle pride. The girl had turned to look at the two boys approaching, and Edgeworth watched himself stopped short as he caught her gaze. Something about her had brought him to a halt – what it was, he hadn’t the foggiest…

“I found him!” Phoenix grinned, rushing towards the two girls with one arm on his friend. “Consider it an honor, Miss Fey, he put down his paperwork for us…”
He winced as Miles gave him a subtle shove, his eyes still locked onto the girl.

Miles hardly heard what Mia said to him in greeting, shaking her hand in a distracted manner. He smiled at his old neighbor politely.
“Lana and I were just talking about you. You’re under Von Karma’s instruction now, aren’t you?”
He liked to think he had only imagined the sour note Mia’s voice had taken when she said his mentor’s name.
“Next year I should be officially working for him, yes…”

The woman bit her lip and nodded. “Well, if anything it means you’ll be great, at least.” She smiled politely at him, taking his hand again. “Although I do think you would have done well under more honorable means…”

Before he could debate about such honorable means she looked up, finally taking notice of the small girl lurking behind him. Unlike Miles, Franziska had not taken well to the jolly atmosphere of the room and had instead closed herself off even further, her cloak wrapped tightly around her body.

“And you are?’ Mia smiled at the girl, extending her hand. Franziska didn’t take it.
“Franziska.” She said coldly. “Franziska Von Karma.”
Mia’s eyes widened for a moment, and she nodded stiffly in note of her mistake.


Much to Miles’s surprise, the other woman patted him on the shoulder, pulling him away from the confrontation about to occur.
“You’re a prosecutor, then?” She asked calmly as he turned around. He nodded and she smiled. “Mia only said you were an attorney. I wasn’t sure exactly what she meant by that.”

The woman extended her hand, offering a small curtsey as he bowed towards her. “Prosecutor Lana Skye.”
“You’re one as well, then?” Lana nodded, crossing her arms. “Mia and I bicker over it all the time. But we’re both in a sort of understanding…”

“An understanding?”
“Yes. She understands that she’s better off as a defense attorney, and I understand that she’s wrong.”

He couldn’t help but laugh. “That’s quite an understanding.”
Her eyes went a little bit harder in thought. “It’s funny to us on nights like this. But we’ve had arguments about it that haven’t ended very well. For instance, she doesn’t believe in having people hanged…”
“That’s a bit ridiculous…”

“That’s what I told her – she doesn’t think anyone deserves it. I told her to say that after talking to a victim’s family, but she won’t agree…”
“Some people put far too much value in some lives.” Miles frowned as they both began to walk without even noticing it.

She was the easiest person to talk to he had ever met. Lana was more intelligent and knowledgeable about the law than almost every man he knew. Not only could she carry on a conversation, but she actually wanted to talk to him. Normally Von Karma had little interest in what his ward had to say, and Franziska only debated with him if she knew she was going to win.

“They recently started letting us women into the university. Mia and I were the first to go into the law school, and my younger sister is determined to be the first female chemist to work there…” The two had found themselves sitting in armchairs against the wall, watching the others dance about. A quick search about the room for Franziska was all he was worried about, and when he found her speaking somewhat amicably to a shy-looking girl in glasses, he relaxed and turned his full attention back to the woman.

“That’s quite ambitious of her.” Miles commented. The spectacle before them was magnificent, but Lana’s face had a magnetic effect on his eyes.
“I’m completely sure she can do it.” Lana nodded casually. “I just have to keep doubting her for her own sake. Someone’s got to doubt her, or she’ll have to doubt herself.”

They were being wallflowers, but they were considerably happy ones. Edgeworth hardly heard the conversation anymore as he stood over Miles, enjoying the memory of what Lana had looked like on that night. She was the most modestly dressed of all of the women; her collar was high around her neck and her brown sleeves reached out to her wrists. The woman’s hair, however, had been long around her shoulders in a fashion that no one else had…

Edgeworth hadn’t been able to help it. He’d leaned in besides his teenage self and kissed the girl on the mouth, her hair brushing against his nearly transparent hands.
The world shook again and he felt himself falling against a hard floor. The scenery had changed even as the cast remained the same, and Miles was continuing what his spirit had started.

---

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Very good. I look forward to reading more.

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Are you ever going to continue this? It's awesome! ^_^

XD Well I figured, since it isn't Christmas anymore...but thanks!

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lolit'sbeenawhile. But I saw Christmas Carol the other day, and really wanted to finish this, as it's my favorite thing I've written.
New readers (and old ones) I implore you to read/re-read the old chapters.

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“I love you…” He never had thought he would have been able to say that again. But after seven long years, the words had finally come to him.
She’d come over to his new office with careful precision in terms of timing – Von Karma wouldn’t have appreciated his newest prosecutor having women around in a public office. But the moment the mentor had left for his own manor, Lana had arrived to celebrate.
At his words she had smirked. She was the only one he knew that was more serious than he was; compared to her, he actually seemed like a romantic…
“You and your words…” She kissed him back nevertheless and pulled away from his arms even as he reached back out for her.
“But I appreciate the sentiment anyway.” As serious as ever she started for the door, throwing her hair back behind her shoulder. Like a dumb fool he smiled at her, shoving his thin glasses up on his nose.
“You’ve got work to do, Mr. Prosecutor.” Lana beamed at him proudly, reaching for her cape as she exited out into the street. It was just like her, to come and go as she pleased as he pined away. All of the age-old words about men being the heads of relationships were lost on him – Prosecutor Skye was untamable, and he didn’t want to break her into him…he wouldn’t have liked her any other way.

He walked back to his new desk. She was right – he had plenty of work to do. Von Karma had made sure of that.

Before he could start, however, Miles caught sight of a young man passing his window, heading directly for the door. The sound of a cane rapping against his front step pervaded the air, and he jumped up to let the guest in.

“There was a time where guests used to excite you, Miles.” Edgeworth had nearly forgotten Misty had been behind him and he jumped, slightly.
“Who is the man at the door? I’ve entirely forgotten…”

The door opened before young Miles could get to it, the large wooden rectangle nearly knocking him over. A pair of men’s boots walked in, paired with a man’s dress shirt tucked into man’s black trousers, a sharp black gentleman’s jacket covering it all up. A white cravat had been excellently tied and a normal top hat was perched on top on the visitor’s head, but as the new prosecutor looked over the intruder, it became increasingly clear that the person themselves was anything but a man.

It would be safer not to notice, Miles seemed to decide. He raised an eyebrow, but nodded his head in greetings.
“Fancy seeing you here, Franziska…”

She didn’t use her cane to attack and instead struck him a blow with the riding whip she kept at her waist. He was used to it as a friendly greeting and dodged it with ease as she strode in across the floor.

“Don’t play me for a fool, little brother. I was stared at all the way here.” The girl jabbed his back with her new cane as he sat back down.

“That’s a new look for you.” The girl did look rather professional; and although she wouldn’t admit it, she looked considerably more comfortable. But Miles had learned enough of revolutionizing women from his encounters with Lana – what would the rest of the world think?
“I’ve decided I’ve had my share of petticoats.” She announced casually, leaning back on his desk. “I’ve paid my dues. Besides, how does one expect to be taken seriously in court wearing all of those ridiculous flounces…”

“You’re never working in court though.” He said, greatly entertained by her charade of confidence – or had the suit magically made her witty? “No one notices you when you’re only sitting in the crowd…”

“Not all of us plan to sit in the audience this year.” She smirked, reaching for her whip again. He shook his head at her.

“You’re not going to prosecute. You’re only fifteen-“
Miles found himself cut off as she proudly dropped a packet of parchment in front of him, tossing her head. It was identical to the license he himself had just received the day before, and he looked at her with shock.

“How…”
“I registered a few days after you. It’s funny how much you can get away with, when you write your fives to look like eights…”

“Does your Father even know about any of this madness?”
This seemed to be the greatest bit of satisfaction for the young woman. She laughed a bit in a patronizing way. “Papa said I was as ready as you were. I’ll be working here as of tomorrow.”

He’d been the youngest prosecutor in the country for about a day. Astonished, he shook his head. Although he hadn’t expected it, somehow he was not surprised.

“And you found a tailor to custom-make this new for you? Did your father also reach into his purse for those?” Miles leaned back in his chair as she pranced about the room. The girl shook her head just faintly, her surge of triumph dwindling slightly. He looked at her in amusement. “Then you reached into his purse yourself?”

“These were a gift, if you must know. Given to me by a very good friend…”
“You’ve got friends?” The whip hit his face as he playfully feigned epic surprise. “I didn’t realize you’d waste your time fraternizing with anyone not worthy of you…”

“As a matter of fact, Miles Edgeworth, I do have some acquaintances.” She had grabbed for a wooden chair, pulling it up to the desk with an intolerable screeching noise she surely knew he couldn’t stand. “And this one acquaintance is indeed worthy of me.”

Her eyes softened in an unusual way for her. “Perhaps a little too worthy…”
He understood immediately. “That sort of friend, then?”

She said nothing, her face hardening so quickly that he figured he imagined the gentle expression.

“What’s his name?”
Franziska looked up at him and bit her lip, debating whether to respond or not.
“Adrian.” The girl said finally, crossing her arms in a mild pout.

Throughout their entire career together, the two had competed and bickered over everything. Ever since the day she had pinned him down in the snow as a frustrated child, Franziska had concerned herself with one thing and one thing only – beating Miles Edgeworth. Often, she underhanded him as often as she could, gloating in satisfaction as she came out on top.
But occasionally Franziska shared her weaker side with spontaneous shows of trust. As they had grown older – and in theory, closer – she had confided in him more and more. It didn’t bother him even as she denied it; he liked how her secrets proved she didn’t genuinely hate him, something he had believed for most of his early years with the Von Karma family.

He didn’t recognize the name and simply nodded.
“And if you tell Papa…”
“Of course, of course.” He’d never told any of her secrets to anyone, as inane as most of them were.

“I’ll tell him about all those meetings you and Prosecutor Skye have.” The girl wagged her finger at him. “Really, I’m surprised he hasn’t found out yet. Even I saw her leaving…”

“Not a word to him from either of us.” Miles agreed. Their mentor wouldn’t have appreciated distractions.

Franziska had nearly forgotten she had entrusted a secret to him. She justified her trust in him by saying that she had already clearly established her dominance over him and that she needn’t put in nearly as much as an effort in being superior – even at her weakest, she was still stronger than him. Miles had laughed at that comment until he realized she had been entirely serious.

“It’d be best if we started working together on a good note. I’ll have to move in all my things…”
“What better way to spend Christmas Day?” Back then, he had still been playful with his sarcasm. She looked at him and frowned.

“Is it really Christmas?”
Miles nodded and she shrugged her shoulders. “Explains why Adrian gave me a gift, then.”

She paced around the room and eyed his desk like a cat. “I think I’ll put my things right there.”

“On top of my things? You can have the other corner.” He was thrown backwards slightly as she shoved his desk on its hind legs and into his thin stomach.

“I don’t know. I rather like the sun over here.” The girl grinned darkly and dropped the desk, shooting him forward. He coughed a bit and she was satisfied.

“I don’t know how I’m going to nanny for you while I’m prosecuting, little brother.” She ruffled his hair in a patronizing manner.
“Last I took note, I was a good five years older than you.”

“I never said younger. Just little.” He shook his head at her and she tilted her own. “Perhaps someday you’ll find someone to look up to you, but for now…”

Right on cue, Franziska vanished into nothing. Out of the corner of his eye Edgeworth saw that her things had stacked up across the room, but she herself wasn’t around.
“Another Christmas, then?” He glanced back at Misty, who nodded.
“Your twenty-first. Only three years ago.”
“They’re going faster…” He had passed through three Christmases in a matter of minutes.
“Of course.” Misty nodded her head. “You did nothing but work through most of them, and that’s already something you know well about…”


The door was knocked upon again, and a voice Edgeworth had already heard that day rang out throughout the office.
“Big brother!”

In nearly the same way as she had waltzed into the room, a young Ema Skye charged into the office with merriment all over her innocent face. Before he could administer a proper greeting, she had leapt across to his desk and flattened him in an overwhelming embrace.
It took him a long time to regain his words again. Somehow, Edgeworth remembered being thankful he had not had anyone from the legal district present at the time Ema had visited.
Finally the young man spoke, gently returning the gesture as she squeezed him tighter.
“Big brother? I’ve not heard that one from you before…”
“It’s what I plan to call you now.” The girl pulled away from him with the best of intentions, but as she looked into his face her joy could not be contained and she reached for him again. “Now that you’re going to be married to my sister, you’re just as much my sibling as she…”

Oh, right. Miles blushed and fiddled with his glasses, distracted once again from his work. “She told you, then…”

“And I must say I’m offended your intentions were that I shouldn’t find out!” Ema pouted, poking at his glasses. “I only found out since I noticed she was wearing a ring…”

“She’s wearing it then? That’s good, at least…” In all honestly Miles had nearly died of shock when she had accepted his proposal. He had expected her to laugh at him, a foolish love-struck boy – and she was always laughing at him – and go off out into the streets with her usual mystery. He would have thought that a woman in her power would have little use for marriage, but he had done it anyway…

“Of course.” Was all she had said. And he had fallen over.

He looked back at Ema and sighed. “She wanted to wait a while to announce it. Said she would, of course, but wanted to put it off a bit…”

The girl frowned in a way that concerned the prosecutor, but it disappeared quickly. “Either way.”
She wrapped his arms around his shoulders again in joy as he patted her back meekly.
“You’re coming tonight, right, big brother? To Christmas dinner?” Ema tried out the nickname, enjoying how it felt. He nodded and she grinned again.

“After I’m done with my work.” The grin disappeared, and she looked down at his paperwork sullenly.
“You’re always working. Even Lana says you work too much. Come over early, I’m sure she’d love to see you…”
Miles didn’t reply and she prodded his shoulder.

“What are you working on, anyway?” The student asked him, leaning over to study the parchment before him. He gestured to the stack of things on his desk.

“I’m preparing for a case I’ve been assigned to. The trial is in two days.”
At first she looked fascinated, excited at the notion of learning, but as she struggled through the argot on the page her expression grew to one of frustration.

“I’m not very good at understanding law.” She admitted after a moment, as she had every time their conversation had turned to legal conflict. He offered her a kind smile.

“I’m not very good at understanding chemistry.” Miles responded in the same way he always did. Ema puffed a bit with pride.
“How can you not understand it?” She had draped herself over him again. “It’s the study of how we all combine. It’s how we all collide with each other…”

For a moment, he felt a strange emotion flash in the young teenager. Kindly he pushed away from her, returning to his work. “I’ll come as soon as I finish this. But you’ve got to get home, Ema. Lana probably doesn’t appreciate doing all of that work alone…”
The thought struck her suddenly and she gasped, her glasses nearly falling off of her nose. “Of course! Of course, of course, of-“

“Calm down, now…” He shook his head as she fled for the door in a panic, hardly heeding his warning. The student picked up her cream skirts as she ran out, having just realized the time. “Happy Christmas, big brother!”
She was terribly excitable, but she was sweet. Edgeworth watched himself shake his head in wonder at the girl and return to his paperwork.

“You didn’t see her again that day.” The ghost had said into his ear, serving as a conscience. “They wondered where you were the whole night.”

Edgeworth chewed down on his lip. “An emergency came up with the case I was working on. I had to go to the courthouse for most of the night…”
He could feel her frown. “Lana understood. She’d had to do the same thing before…and Ema forgave me, after a few of her punches…”

“That time, yes…” As she spoke, the room grew just a faint amount gloomier. Another Christmas had passed again, signifying yet another year he had spent working. This time, however, there was no knock at the door – Prosecutor Skye was already standing in the corner of the room, her red cape drawn tightly to her brown gown. She had been waiting in the shadows of his slowly dying candle, her hands folded.

“One moment more.” He assured her, reviewing a piece of paper carefully. The woman had come in gravely moments before, Edgeworth had remembered. She had wanted to talk – he had requested five minutes more with the case that had turned into twenty. Miles wasn’t noticing what his older counterpart now saw; Lana had not come to idly chatter with him.

“As long as you need.” She had said quietly, and he had abused those words heavily.

“I’m really sorry, this is just very important…” He had thrown out dutiful apologies every time his additional five minutes was up, hardly even sparing her a glance. One last time he peered through the record and toyed with a sheet of paper. It was a letter, containing information that disturbed him greatly…
If the defendant finds out about this…He recalled thinking. This proves he wasn’t anywhere near the scene of the…

Slowly, he placed his long fingers on the seam of the paper, pulling it apart with a loud rip. The sound made Lana looked up quickly, and she tilted her head in the near darkness.
“What is that?” He leaned over and casually dropped the two pieces into a wastebasket by his side.
“Nothing, nothing…”
But there had been something suspiciously ceremonial about the way he had destroyed the paper, and she grabbed for it out of the trash.
He tried to act as if nothing had happened as she put the two pieces together and squinted in the darkness.
“You took this out of that file, didn’t you?” The case was high profile enough for her to be familiar with broad detail. Her eyes scanned the letter and she placed a hand to her mouth as she realized what it meant.
“We already proved it irrelevant…” He had never lied to her so directly before, but somehow his conscience was in hibernation.
“You did not! This is new! You haven’t shown this yet…Miles, this is important evidence!”

She leaned over and dropped the tattered pieces on his desk. Bluntly he seized them out of her hands and crumpled the sheets, hurling them back on the ground in a frustrated manner.
“Miles!” The woman cried out, sounding wounded. “What on earth…”
“Just disarming the defense…” Wouldn’t she, a fellow prosecutor, understand that?
“You can’t do that! It’s vital to the case…”
He gave her an annoyed look that made Edgeworth wince. “I thought you liked seeing criminals hang, Lana.”

She was normally calm, and he was surprised when she grabbed for his wrist in an angry passion.
“Criminals, Miles. Not innocent people…”
“Well if he’s on the defendant’s stand he must have done something wrong somewhere…” He ripped his wrist away from her, his eyes glaring in disgust.
“So we should throw all we arrest into prison, then? Trials were born for the mere reason that sometimes people are wrong…”

“Some people, yes.” The man stood up and ran a hand through his hair, rubbing his temples out of stress. “But I have never been wrong, and I do not intend to be wrong…”

He walked away from her in fury as she retreated, dangerously calm. In a harsh voice he recognized as the one she reserved for the worst sort of criminals, Prosecutor Skye spoke.
“That’s what you’re on about, then. That perfect record of yours, one to match your mentor…”
Miles said nothing, still pacing the opposite side of the room.
“This is what I wanted to talk to you about, Miles! You’re growing ridiculous with this…this sense of competition…”

Edgeworth watched the man stand in the corner, his back to the woman as he leaned his head against the crack where the two walls met.
“You don’t even care about the people behind the stand…”
“And why should I?” Miles whipped around suddenly, even as she did not recoil. “They are merely ignorant people, idiots that the world deserves to be ridden of! They are always dirty, their faces filled with grime and their eyes blubbering with tears – what does London need? More of them?”
Before she could retort he advanced on her. “I thought you would know this, Lana. I thought you to be one of the wiser ones, having gone to university and all...”
He threw the word at her like an insult. “Perhaps it wasn’t your genius that got you through school at all. With your concern for such people you could have paid in other-“
He was cut short by a slap across his face.
“How dare you even say that…” As she raised her hand to strike again, he grabbed her wrist. In an instinct-initiated defense, his arms shoved her hard against the wall with a sickening thud.
He hadn’t meant to hurt her. He had been protecting himself from her attack, merely trying to push away – had that wall always been behind them? Immediately he lowered his arms and gasped as the woman started to cough violently.
As she leaned back against the wall, he saw for the first time how thin her face had grown and a shiver ran down his spine.
“Lana, I didn’t mean to…”
She coughed again, bending over as she desperately pushed him away. He stepped back as she covered her face, shoving forward past him.

Miles caught her arm without realizing it. “You’re ill…” He wanted nothing better than to eat everything he had said, if it only meant he wouldn’t have shoved her…
She wrenched away from him, her face growing paler.
“You’re no better than the rest of them.” The woman gasped out as she rushed for the door. “You’re just as much as a criminal as the ones I fight to destroy…”

With a single motion she was gone, and he was left staring at a slammed door.

Edgeworth had rushed through the chaos up to the man, shoving him even harder to no avail.
“Go after her, you idiot!” He nearly begged of himself. Miles was staring dumbly at the door. “Go bring her back…”

Misty had placed her hand on his shoulder as he buried his face in his hands.
“I didn’t want to hurt her, I swear!” He moaned. “I don’t know what came over me…I would never…”

She said nothing as he atoned. “I didn’t realize the wall was there! Miss Fey, this man is not me! You must believe me…”

The sun had risen on a brick street that was abandoned save for two men in the corner. He swore their chatter had been magnified as he eavesdropped, sensing he was intended to hear the conversation.
“Well it’s not official news yet, but from what I heard from my friend who works there, at the courthouse…”
“Come on, tell me! Last I heard Prosecutor Edgeworth had it nearly wrapped up, as usual…”
The first man laughed at the other. “But you see, that isn’t news, is it? First of all, he showed up to court late today...”
His companion raised an eyebrow as the old man continued. “And that’s not all! He had this torn up old thing in his hands, my friend said, and he was waving it like a madman, begging for the judge to take a peek. And you know what it said?”
“Just tell me!”
“It proved the defense’s argument entirely! He had a perfect case, and he brought in the evidence to get the not guilty…”
“Not guilty?”
The man shook his head. “He’s mad…”

The two men didn’t notice as the boy in question rounded the corner, running as fast as he could. Miles had left the courtroom without sparing anyone a word, leaving his coat behind.
The spirit watched as he charged down the street, his face perplexed. Panicked, the prosecutor rushed up to one of the smaller houses on the block and nearly collapsed at the door. It was the first time in months he had gone to that house, something he regretted awfully.
“Lana!” He cried, his fist banging at the door. “Lana, I took in the evidence! I lost the trial, Lana! He wasn’t guilty, he didn’t do it…”

The door opened slightly and he lunged for the first person, stopping himself just in time as he realized the stranger was not Prosecutor Skye.
There was a man barely older than him standing before him, his eyes somber. His hair was dark, his bangs brushing in front of his eyes untidily, and for a moment Miles paused in confusion.
“This is the home of Lana Skye, isn’t it? I’m looking for her…”

The stranger’s expression was grave, and he seemed to sigh in disbelief as he responded.
“You’ve just missed her.”
Miles frowned and started to bolt backwards. “Where did she go? I’ve got to find her…”

“You don’t understand…” It sounded as if the young man didn’t understand entirely either. “She’s gone.”

“What do you…” He tilted his head. “Has she moved? She lived here yesterday, I thought, unless you’re the new tenant…”
“I don’t live here.” The man sighed and extended his hand, letting him in. “Dr. Stiles. You must be Mr. Edgeworth. Her younger sister was hoping you would come...”
“I came as soon as I could. I got wrapped up in meetings this morning, but I left as soon as court let out. But I need to see Lana first…”

“We’ve already got her covered up, but I suppose if you wanted to have a last goodbye…”
Miles stopped in his tracks, confusion written all over his face.
“What are you talking about?”

The doctor shook his head, a distracted air about him. “I know she probably told you she had more time than this. I gave her a few weeks yesterday, so this is a bit sooner than we expected…”
“Expected what?”
“I truthfully thought if she had more time…I could have figured out what she had…” The doctor seemed appalled with himself, making him nearly useless in terms of answering questions.

“What did she have?” What a fool I was… “Where’s Lana?”
“If you don’t mind, I think the younger Miss Skye could do with some comfort. She’s very brave, held her sister’s hand the whole time…”

Miles grabbed the doctor, pulling him backwards. As calmly as he could muster, he looked the man in the eyes and spoke.
“Doctor, where is my fiancée?”

For the first time, it seemed, the doctor gave him his full attention. He gave the young prosecutor a look of utmost sympathy and turned away his gaze.

“Her illness finally won over early this morning, Mr. Edgeworth. She battled it for four years…”

The bullet had been fired, but he did not yet feel the pain; he only felt the words enter his head.
“Illness?”

Dr. Stiles gave him a quizzical look and carefully led him into the parlor. The prosecutor had gone numb, as the word illness rang in his head like a church bell.
He hardly felt Ema touch his hand, bringing it to her head, and he looked at her dumbly. The girl who had only a Christmas ago leapt joyfully into his arms had lost all trace of merriment from her face. She had pressed his fingers against her lips, her eyes closed as tears leaked out…
All she needed was contact, and I was too stupid to…
He pulled his hand away without even realizing it. Without any tangent thoughts in his head, the man blinked at her.
“Ema? What illness?”

The small girl gasped for air between her silent sobs. She made herself look up at him.
“She didn’t tell you? She had a disease no one could diagnose…”
Miles had had no idea. “What?”

“It got worse in the past month or so.” Ema murmured. “Yesterday she found out she only had maybe a month – didn’t she tell you? She had just been at your office, I thought, she wanted you to know…”
We need to talk…And he hadn’t even bothered to find out what she had wanted to say…

Miles shook his head dumbly as the memory of her waxy face struck him. Now that he thought of it, she had been thinner than usual and considerably more tired…
I barely even paid attention to her all year…

He couldn’t be in the house anymore. All of a sudden he felt Lana’s hands all over him, suffocating…

Just as Ema reached for him he turned and rushed out of the room, nearly shoving over the nervous doctor as he went for the streets. The two ghosts followed him as he ran out onto the cobblestone, hitting the ground in an uncontrolled run.

“It’s always the ones with some good in their hearts.”
Misty turned her attention away from the man to look at Edgeworth. He was staring off into the distance, a broken expression on his face.

“Hm?”
“The boring ones.” He gestured out to the other people on the street, plain looking faces giving the stumbling prosecutor odd looks. “The foolish ones…the ones with nothing significant to add to the world. They go to work, grow old, and go on doing absolutely nothing until the day they die peacefully in their sleep; but the ones who mean something! They’re the ones who are the one in a hundred to get the illness, the ones who the burglars randomly target…”

The young man had wandered aimlessly around the city, running into alleyways without a purpose as, unknown to him, the cityscape changed around him. Miles found himself in a slightly wealthier part of town at a dark back doorstep, and his ghost watched him rap at the door.

A young woman with thick glasses and a nervous face answered, and Edgeworth watched his face contort into an expression of confusion. He introduced himself carefully, trying to hide his distress.
“I believe my sister informed me she’d be spending Christmas at this number with a male friend of hers. Do I have the wrong home?” He said with minimal shaking, although inside he was shattered.
The woman frowned slightly. “There aren’t any men here…”
Miles nodded as calmly as he could. “Could you perhaps tell me what house belongs to Mr. Adrian Andrews?”

The girl gave him a look, her face evolving into understanding. Briskly she extended her hand as if she was used to the mistake.
“My name’s Adrian Andrews, Mr. Edgeworth. You must be looking for Franziska.”

Misty’s face looked mildly bewildered as the man besides her bore the expression of a stone. Miles was confused enough to not follow the girl in, and in a moment Franziska had arrived at the door to see him. She was clad in her normal, if not a little wrinkled, men’s suit.

“Franziska…” Had it been any other time, he would have asked about the woman. “Franziska, I need to talk to you…I need a kind face…” He had come for reasons he didn’t understand, and even as he spoke he realized he had made a mistake.
He’d come for something that wouldn’t change, a voice of reason to listen in this madness, and he had chosen Franziska? Even two years later he couldn’t figure out his own reasoning.

Her blue eyes piercing into him as she went to slam the door. Desperately he shoved half his foot in the crack, pushing the door back open.
“Franziska…”

“You embarrass me, Miles Edgeworth. You’re a foolish fool.” He shoved harder and she ripped the door back open, sending him to the ground.
“Franziska! Lana just died…” What did he expect from her, anyways?

“You lost that trial today.” She snarled, hitting his ribs with her cane. “You brought in the evidence that destroyed you. You’ve embarrassed Papa’s memory…”
She was harping on that? “You can’t be…”

“Why, I can’t even imagine what compelled you…”
He looked up at her, his hand over his face.
“So she would take me back…Lana and I argued…”

The cane hit his face as she snorted in disgust.
“I’m moving out of your office. Adrian’s offered to let me work out of her home, and quite frankly I don’t think I can tolerate you for another minute…”

He had managed to stand up on his knees, still too shaky to find his feet.
“Franziska, you’ve told me all of your secrets. I never told, not once…”

“Get out of my doorstep.”

“You’re no less of an embarrassment! You’re no more honest than me, Franziska…”

There was no convincing her. There had never been any convincing her – she was a Von Karma, after all. Like her father before her, she would die believing she was right in her perfection.

“She’ll be in chains, as well…” Misty murmured to him as he watched himself struggle to stand up… “But it’s not her fate we’re intervening, now…”

Miles managed to find his feet, finally, clawing at the door until he was upright. In the same harried fashion, he rushed off down the street like a heartbroken schoolboy, maddeningly ignorant of the passerby watching him. The pair of ghosts followed him somberly as he traversed through the austere streets of London, not saying a word even as the buildings began to age besides them.

They arrived back at the office, a building in the only remaining corner that had not returned to modern day status. Surrounded in the present, Edgeworth watched himself stumble into the room and slam the door behind him, the sound of the lock clicking clear in his mind.

“You never welcomed anyone again.” Misty did not look at him, but took his hand instead. “Anyone who graced your doorstep would be treated to a glare. Even if they were people seeking your services…”
She pursed her lips. “Even if they were your friends…but you already know that, don’t you?”

A familiar-looking man walked through the ghost and knocked on the door. Phoenix Wright, Edgeworth’s savior several Christmases ago, had returned in an effort to rescue him again. This was this afternoon.
“It’s more difficult to save someone from themselves, I would think.” Misty murmured to the silent man besides her as Phoenix vanished before their eyes. “But he’s trying, certainly…”

For the first time, Miles looked up at her, his expression pale. He couldn’t even protest, being speechless.
Words only came to his mouth as he saw the woman begin to fade. “Leaving…leaving already?” He had missed Miss Fey, regardless of what she had shown.
“My time here is fading.” As if she had not just witnessed the scarred past of her young ward, the woman grinned kindly as ever. Her gloved hand reached for the door, opening it briskly as if there were no knock. “In fact, I’ve overstayed my welcome. Your next visitor won’t be pleased with me…”
“But wait!” The words had returned entirely. “Miss Fey…no! Do not leave me alone in this dark and dismal past…
Edgeworth stepped into the house, guided by a gentle gesture as the woman laughed. “My dear…this is no longer my territory. You’re back where you started, now…”
She was transparent now, and he could see the snow falling behind her. Still, she gripped his hand with hers, as warm and tender as ever. “And from here, you can only move forward.”
The office was hardly visible, overtaken by spiritual power. The snow that had fallen all about it before was beginning to melt, and it seemed as if time itself was insisting that Misty hurry away…

Edgeworth let go nearly by accident, and immediately regretted it. “Wait! No!”

But she had gone.

No! He fell to the ground, his knees hitting snow and wood in a painful thump. He had had so much more he needed to ask her! She couldn’t merely open the door to so many answers and slam it shut on him, could she?
Would she want to show him? Or was it that she couldn’t?

He felt consciousness slip from him again, a sense of overwhelming exhaustion from his travels across the years covering him like snow. Before his head hit the ground, Edgeworth heard the last of the kindly voice.

”Don’t let your father’s work go in vain.”

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Aah! It's great! (Why didn't I think of this? *shot*) It's really great, Mercs!

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=D Thank you.

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Thsi is excellent! I love the way you've taken the Christmas Carol story and fitted the PW characters into it, while keeping most of their background. Everyone's in character, and I like how you've fitted some characters together in a new way (Misty and Edgeworth, for example).

Please try and finish it eventually, as I'm really enjoying it!

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Aww, thank you =D

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this is really good. i was just in a christmas carol (a play) and i enjoyed reading it with my favorite people playing the parts. i was one of the people who asked for money, and i totally love the people you chose for that! there were just no lesbians in my play. keep going! it's fantastic!

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