Chapter Text
The place was quiet but eerie. Miles sat silently, he looked over to see his sister. Franziska Von Karma, whom was his adopted sister and whom he also didn’t fully accept as his sister. It was more that he didn’t accept being a brother. Miles felt cold, his body trembled slightly and his eyes were darting back and forth. No control whatsoever.
“Miles,” He looks over, Franziska looks up. She wears a rather fancy outfit for just a 12 year old girl. her blue hair is short and sways against her neck, her eyes dazzling with glitter.
“Me and Father have to leave.” He nodded, looking up at Von Karma. His step father, his only father now. He felt depressed at the thought, like this was new.
Almost 3 years had passed since his father had rid and he hadn’t uttered a word or sound of importance since.
He would silently sit, obey and watch like a dog.
“Goodbye. When we return you will be all better and able to become a prosecutor, like I had hoped.” He hissed the last words.
Miles stared back down at his shoes, silently.
The words stung but he was slightly confused. How could a man he’d barely gotten to know had such high expectations, treated him like his own.
Miles felt both blessed and cursed.
He was alone.
Miles watched back, seeing Franziska walk slower than she normally sashayed. Von Karma walked a little faster and hadn’t even glanced back. Franziska did. It meant a lot.
“Hello Miles.” A man appeared, he had a tan face complexion and his black curly hair surrounded his face. He smiled, his long white lab coat trailing behind. Miles just looked at him blankly. “Not much of a talker?”
Miles huffed, looking over to the window. There was a few roses and plants just hanging outside the window. The view was ugly, the roof of the rest of the institution showed and it wasn’t pretty. He spotted a dog, small and fluffy.
It almost reminded him of the dog he had found with- nevermind.
Its small face stared back in delight and Miles found the strength to smile a little inside.
“Regardless whether you want to speak to me, you sort of need to follow me buddy.” He grinned, Miles sighed, turning away from the window to follow the strange man. Miles had judged his entire taste in one.
He looked rather cheerful, oddly, and he was continually glancing back to smile at Miles. Miles grumbled to himself. He led him to a pretty blank room, it was boringly decorated but had a few frames and drawings around the place.
The man himself didn’t appear that much older. He welcomed Miles inside, guiding him to the seat that looked scratchy and itchy.
It had a horrible fabric, one that Miles felt uncomfortable on.
“Okay so, before we get you sorted with your stuf-“ He points to Miles small bag. It was only a backpack, one he’d had since he was a little child. It was one his dad had bought him. The man just hrt, letting out a hmmm sound.
“That’s all you have with you?” He asks as politely as he can. Truthfully, Miles hadn’t been allowed much time to pack clothes from home.
He had on one occasion ran away home to get his stuff and his keychain, it ended in his meeting with Phoenix Wright.
His best friend.
Miles felt oddly nostalgic.
Miles kept his blank stare, just nodding in response. He knew he was being rude, he had been taught better. Oh how his dad would be ashamed.
“You won’t talk to me? Okay.” The other guy huffs a little, leaning forward on his knee as if he’s trying to think. “Let’s come up with a strategy! Ya know sign language?”
Miles nods, he had learnt a fair bit mostly because of his own interest. He adored learning other languages, he had even learned German. Though it wasn’t like he talked to Franziska in it, much to her disappointment.
“Okay! Let’s use that then.” He grins, beginning to sign the words—I’m Dr. Shields. Miles looks at him, raising an eyebrow in disapproval. The man clearly was not fluent in his sign language. Dr Shields stared at him, annoyed but not really that bothered.
“So you just don’t want to communicate.” He sighs. “You’re making my job harder kid.” He laughs, leaning back again to fully laugh.
“I have to measure your weight and do an overall health checkup on you before we can continue to settle you in a ward.” He claps his hands together, getting up to find a weighing scale through the clutter in his cupboards. He groans to himself.
“How on earth does…… Oh wait!” Miles barely listens to the man mutter to himself, watching as he makes a mess of the cupboard. He huffs and heaves to himself, staring over at Miles. “Hey I’m doing this for you kid, look alive.”
Miles feels himself smirk inside. Why was this man so persistently annoying, in a comedic manor that failed to please Miles. So why was he smirking.
“Ha! That made you smile.” He grinned, Miles dropping it instantly with a roll of his eyes. Dr. Shields does the same, mimicking Miles. Miles feels slight annoyance.
“Right! Here we are.” He places both hands on his hips, looking over at Miles intently. Miles just scans the weight scale and looks back up, unimpressed. “Well? Get on it.”
Miles sighs, getting up to stand on it. He feels himself dizzy and disoriented, though it leaves after a few seconds. He looks down. The scale reads atleast a few kgs under the average weight. Miles shakes it off, but Dr. Shields otherwise almost flinches.
“You’re very skinny, Miles. Did you know that?” Miles shrugs his shoulder in response. It was true, he had barely eaten since his father had died. He didn’t do anything anymore. He slept a lot.
“I’ll get you to tell me a bit more information about yourself and reasons you’re here then we can go.” He smiles softly and Miles looks at him dumbfounded. “Oh right, you don’t want to cooperate.”
Miles rolls his eyes. Dr. Shields just groans, hands still on his hips.
“You’re gonna have to get used to me kid, I do not take no for an answer!!” He laughs and Miles feels himself cringe inside slightly.
There’s a lot of questioning afterwards, but Miles doesn’t budge. He silently stares as the man just grows more tired. He looks like he might pop a vein in his forehead with the sour look he is pulling.
“Alright, Miles… Uh.” He stops, peering down at his clipboard with an empty and dull expression. He looks back up, observing Miles. He blinks a little. “Edgeworth?”
Miles nods slightly, a little unsure of his sudden unease and mood drop. The man writes something down before he goes back to his expression.
“Right then!! Let’s get your stuff packed away.” He smiles, getting up to walk the two out. He stays relatively quiet for the walk until they near the ward.
“Here we are!! You can pick anywhere you’d like.” He smiles, Miles looks over to see a lot of beds. They’re not very busy, a lot are unoccupied.
Miles walks over to a bed nearby the window. He glances out before setting down his bag and glasses, going to sit slowly and carefully on his bed. He watches at the man smiles again and then leaves, in a hurry. He turns his gaze back to his bag, it’s filled barely with items of his own.
As he unpacks the bag he finds the following. A small plastic defense badge, it was gold and shiny and meant a lot despite being a small plastic item that his dad had given him. Then there was a small frame, it had a picture of him and his dad. The two were smiling, Miles bitterly flipped it over. He scrambled through the bag again. He found more clothes and then a small box that he didn’t recall placing inside. He looks at its intricate design, it is glazingly white on the outside and he feels himself trace the markings.
As he opens it up he finds a small gold badge, it looks like a flower. It’s white and red inside, the gold coating around the badge. Must be a gift from Franziska. He looks at it a little longer before shutting it and placing it back in his bag. He regretted not bringing much. He looked down at the bag, spotting the red signal samurai keychain dangling off of it. He gives it a final glare before pushing his bag underneath his bed, lying back on his white, thin sheeted bed. It feels barely comfortable but somewhat more safer than Von Karmas, he lies down. He knows to change into different clothes, not to keep his smart clothes on as they’ll get dirty.
He doesn’t have the energy to get up to change and instead turns over, pulling the thin sheet over his head, barely covering his hair. He lets his hair mess itself up, his clothes creasing and his eyes drifting away.
Tuesday. 11:06 AM.
It is not long before he is awoken, feeling the inner hatred creep into his mind. He shuts his eyes again, feeling it sink inside him. Disappear. He then realises he can feel tugging on him, physically, and turns barely to find a lady politely smiling down at him.
“Goodmorning dear.” She says softly, trying not to panic the boy. Although he was already a little frozen from surprise, staring in awe at the woman. Her hair was tied up, black ravenette hair, and her face was wrinkled but still showed youth. Her nose crinkled when she smiled and her eyes would disappear into a blink.
“You missed your appointment so I am here to greet you.” She giggles, watching the boy slowly emerge from his sunken bed. She waits patiently, he continues to look up at her while he gets up. He felt tired, his hairs a mess and his clothes are creased and crumbled.
He didn’t recall any appointment, maybe he did. He never really listened all that much when Dr. Shields was waffling on. He couldn’t care for small talk, it was more useless than the one sided conversation the two had.
The woman didn’t seem all that phased that he wasn’t speaking. She instead patiently waited as he got up, looking at her to signal that he was ready. She nods, and begins to walk in front. He follows close behind, watching the path ahead of him appear. It felt like walking a narrow road, never reaching the end. It was so white he had begun to think that he’d died in his dream and this woman was coming to take him to ‘the light.’ It was a thought he wasn’t sure he liked.
“Here we are.” She says, opening a door. The inside of the room is blank like the other, he begins to really wonder if he is dead. If heaven is like this, he’d rather be back on earth roaming as a free ghost. He always was told to believe in heaven, he wasn’t so sure anymore. He looked over, seeing two chairs. One was sat behind a desk, a computer and scattered notebooks with sketches in them. The other chair was bulky, large and chunky. Its fabric was itchy, the kind to send goosebumps down Miles’ spine. He sat nonetheless.
“Goodmorning Miles. I’m Dr. Fey. Misty Fey if you’d like.” She winked and he looked away, feeling a small red tinge on his cheeks. Mostly forming from embarrassment. He, not that he was planning on talking, was not calling her Misty. It was rude, un-gentleman-like of him. She waited a little, seeing if he would reply then laughed.
“Raymond told me you don’t speak, I honestly thought it was just because of him.” She laughs, Miles thinks back to the doctor. He was a cheerful man, why was he working in such a dull place? “He said he recognised you. Y’know, I think I do too.”
Miles peered at her, wondering whether she was truly lying. Why did these two people know him; what connection did they have to him?
“I’m your psychiatrist, while you’re here I am to monitor progress. And to start off, we need to find a way to talk to each other.” She kindly says, he just glances away. Miles hadn’t spoken in three years, what was making him talk now. She looks at him, feeling awkward.
“Miles. If you don’t talk I can’t help you and you won’t be able to leave because you won’t get better by not speaking.” She softly reminds him, he raises an eyebrow. What could she do which would make him talk? Bah, nothing.
“I know why I recognise you. You’re Gregory Edgeworths son.” She smiles sweetly, he looks at her a little surprised. His face seemed almost angry, though he wasn’t. She continues.
“He was a skillful lawyer, wasn’t he?”
Miles mutters under his breath, much to both their surprise. Misty looks at him with feinted surprise and concern. She then smiles.
“Hello Miles.” He croaks, feeling ashamed. He’s been caught in a trap, he looked at her with an expression of anger and annoyance. She keeps calm.
“I hate you.” He spits quietly, narrowing his eyes and looking away in a huff. Misty continues looking at him.
“Miles, I’m very sorry for what happened to your father. It was not your fault.” She says, looking solemnly with concern. Miles looks down, feel his face heat up and his hands go sweaty. His ears feel hot. He will not cry.
“Whatever.” He shrugs off her reply, it remains silent for a while before she continues.
“Do you like poetry?” She asks, he looks up. Maybe he had one time, maybe on one occasion he had written poetry or even read some. But he couldn’t recall ever being particularly interested. He shook his head.
“Poetry can be very calming, relaxing and even be comforting. Poets will always find a way to be the most relatable people you can ever meet.” She says, placing a hand on her chin.
“Do you want a recommendation?” She asks, he shrugs. He doesn’t believe he will ever get around to reading it.
“I believe symbolism is the key in good poetry. I believe symbolism makes us who we are, makes us really think. I think it is good everyone has read a little poetry in their life.” She grins, grabbing a notebook off her desk, skimming past the pages.
“Here.” She passes her book over to the boy, the page is full of a 5 stanza poem. Miles takes time to read it before looking back up. It’s called ‘Basking Shark’. He listens as she read it’s until she gets to a certain line.
“Who’s the monster?” She pauses, looking up to find he’s stopped paying attention. She waits patiently.
Monster comes from the Latin ‘monstrum,’ it is derived ultimately from the verb moneo which means to remind, warn, instruct, or foretell. When asked to think of a monster they think of the most unbelievably ugly, freaky and scary looking creature. One that can only be created from phobias and fear, one has.
However, when Miles imagined a monster he could only picture the man he saw in his mirror. It lurched towards him, desperately scratching for a reaction of the young boy. He barely flinched as the monster swallowed him whole.
“Are you with me Miles?” He heard the woman say, looking up to see her smiling as usual. No obvious concern, but her face seemed almost as porcelain and fake as an old doll.
He nodded, shaking the monster from his mind.
“What did you think of the poem?” She asks and he silently thinks.
“It was ok.” He makes out, a hush of a whisper.
“We need to find something to work on, while you’re here, so I believe finding a good relaxation strategy would be a great start.” She grins and he just nods again. She chuckles before getting up.
“You may go if you’d like Miles.”
Miles left, the monsterous thoughts returning. He had always pictured the monster in his mind. He was tall and his face was contorted always into a grin. He had always placed a hand on Miles’ shoulder, this defeated the belief it was Miles who beared the title of a monster.
He disliked looking into a mirror, he liked anything he could see himself in. It seemed to force beauty standards and self awareness upon people, in situations it really shouldn’t. He disliked being so aware of his looks, so aware he was a mess.
Miles didn’t know what to do, he hadn’t been around the place. He walked around a little, seeing a small bulletin board. There were a few mini clubs in the hospital; it seemed.
11:50 AM.
He scanned the board, not finding much that impressed him.
Music Lessons: Apply Now!!
Chess Club: Apply Now!!
He vaguely remembered his father had taught him how to play chess when he was a young boy, he liked all the different pieces. He liked to have control. Something that was found commonly in the wrong sort of people, he was not one of them.
Miles turned his attention back to the music lessons. He had always seemed rather fascinated in violins and piano. The pianos they had in Germany were rich and fancy. He liked to hear people play on them when the Von Karmas took him to Germany.
He looked over at the pen hanging next to the paper, deciding whether or not to sign. Just as he picked it up he-
“Miles! Hiya pal, didn’t know when I was gonna see you again.” A man laughs, and from behind Miles emerges infamous Raymond Shields. His curly hair pokes out and his attire is rather messy and unkept, Miles gives him a raised eyebrow look. Almost as if he is judging him. He did however agree, he did not believe he would see him again for a while and he most certainly had hoped he would not.
“Still not talking?” He groans, slouching a little in tiredness. Miles looked back at the board.
“You wanna do rugby?” Shields asked, peering at the board behind him. Miles looked frantically, trying to search for where the man had seen rugby. Never in a million years would he be caught dead doing any sort of sport activity. He shook his head, pointing to the music lessons.
“Oh I see!” He places a hand on his chin, almost thinking about something wise. Though, he most certainly was not. “You gotta be able to speak for that though, I think.”
Miles rolled his eyes.
“Violin.” He croaked out, the man looked a little impressed but tried to hide it. He acted nonchalant which made Miles laugh inside a little.
“I see. I don’t actually know if violin is an option.” He ponders, scanning the board. Miles patiently waits for his response, though he soon remembers he is not a patient person and sighs to himself.
“Sorry.” The man says moodily. The two were not getting along so far.
“Violin.” He repeats.
“Yeah I get it.” He rolls his eyes. What an unbearable person. He turns his attention back to the board, there wasn’t any point. He knew that partaking in activities here was useless. All he had to do was pretend to be okay, then he could leave. But did he really want to leave with the harsh conditions and expectations that awaited him?
“I think it’s a good idea to have a little fun, especially in a place like this.” Raymond wags his finger over to the boring white walls and the silence throughout rooms. Miles agreed but was a little nervous. How did he read his thoughts?
“You should know all the people here.” Raymond says, nudging Miles to look at the board. In the top of the board was a few members of, presumably, staff. There was Raymond, smiling at the camera with some wild curls poking out.
Then there was a lady, she had a small smile and looked quite young at the time. Her hair had a strange yellow accessory in it and underneath her photo read ‘Dr. Metis Cykes.’
He then looked over, seeing Misty Fey. Her face seemed calm, only a bare expression of solitude.
Then there was another guy, this one looked quite out of place if Miles did think so. He wore a green trenchcoat instead of a normal white one, and his hair was messy. Not quite buzzed but short enough to seem so.
Underneath his photo read, ‘Officer Richard Gumshoe.’
“Whys there an officer on your board?” Miles asked, croaking out his throat as Raymond bit his lip.
“He’s a good friend to me. He was looking for another job and it seemed that the hospital liked the look of him. Thought he’d be a kind face.” Raymond laughs, Miles rolls his eyes.
(A great cover up to just say you don’t trust the patients.)
“Maybe you’ll meet him soon. He sometimes comes in to cheer up patients, so maybe today’s your lucky day!” He chuckles, giving Miles a small punch on the shoulder. It shouldn’t hurt but Miles feels like a million bullets and he had collided. He winces.
“I’ll see you around, little mute boy.” He calls, walking away with his hands stuffed in his pockets. Miles stares after him, begrudgingly. He peers once more at the board before walking away, the other direction.
Raymond wasn’t wrong. The hospital was boring and it killed all aspect of joy. Miles continued to wander until he felt a soft hand on his shoulder. Much gentler than Raymond’s.
“Hello. Are you alright, dear?” The woman asks, her hand rested on his shoulder. He turns to look at her and recognises her from the board immediately. It’s Metis Cykes. She wears a white coat, her long brown hair tied up.
Miles nods, looking away to find somewhere to run off to. He knew it wasn’t polite, but he atleast had the excuse of stranger danger. Which truthfully wasn’t quite the example he’d been taught as a child. He was instead taught to help any person that approached him unless they were a threat. Miles didn’t deem the woman as a threat but still preferred not to speak to her.
“You’re Miles Edgeworth?” She asks, giving him a smile. He tuts, internally.
He nods again.
“Oh lovely! I heard Raymond going on about you earlier, said he was trying to find you. I’m assuming it’s you anyway, he said little mute boy.” She laughs a little at the end and Miles rolls his eyes but nods again.
(Seems like he found me. Not sure why for.)
He recalled the last minute or so, he’d spent talking to that doofus.
”I guess he’s right.” She giggles again, to herself this time. “My name is Dr. Cykes. But you can call me Metis.”
He extends a hand to shake and she smiles.
“You are a real gentleman, Miles.”
The two shared a silence of looks until Miles began to walk away.
Miles begins to back up, slowly walking away. “Goodbye Miles.”
He sees Metis waving.
He keeps walking, realising eventually he’s not entirely sure where in the hospital he is. He sighs, walking over to a vending machine. It was filled with some salads and normal food. The vending machine beside it had all types of chocolates. Miles wasn’t particularly hungry but had sort of wished he had some money to get a salad, not that there was any use. He’d probably make himself sick.
He sits down on whatever chair is beside him, realising then there is no chair. He falls to the ground with a thud, feeling stupid and embarassed.
“Are you okay?”
Huh. Miles looks up only to see a larger man staring down in worry.
“Can you stop staring at me like that, pal, it’s freaking me out…” He rubs his neck, biting his lip.
“Sorry…” Miles mumbles, getting up to look at the man.
The two stare back at each other, unsure what to do. The other man then lights up, as if he’s gotten a comical lightbulb in his mind.
“I’m Officer Richard Gumshoe. But my pals call me Dick!” Miles looked away, he seemed instantly bored of the conversation. “Hey! Don’t just look away!”
Miles looked back. The man didn’t seem angry, he seemed like a giant teddy bear. Oh, so he was the officer. Miles looked up and down.
(He’s definitely not for security purposes. Just look at his stupid face.)
He mumbles to himself.
“Are you lost?”
He nods, Gumshoe taps his chin in thought. Miles wasn’t sure what exactly he had to think about.
“Let me help ya pal! Let’s go!” He exclaims, walking immediately away. Miles stumbles, deciding to follow after. He didn’t seem all that dangerous, obvious from the dopey grin on his face.
“So what ward ya in?”
Miles blanks. Did he actually know? No.
Gumshoe looks at him, feeling awkward. “Kay then.” He sighs to himself, muttering incoherently.
After a while of walking Miles realises that he’s stopped walking. Gumshoe is in front of him, speaking his best to the receptionist.
“I can’t tell you, sorry sir.”
“Yeah I get that buddy but he doesn’t know where he is meant to be either!” He grumbles, his face contorting to mild rage. He still seemed defenseless.
“I can’t tell you that.” The receptionist gets up, walking away. Miles stares after.
(Useless receptionist.)
“Hey! Atleast tell him that!!” Gumshoe calls after her, muttering in defeat. He groans and then looks back at Miles.
“Uhm, any help?” He asks, Miles almost feels sympathetic for him.
“Doctor Shields.” He mumbles, Gumshoe grins.
“I knew ya could help… eventually.” He laughs before groaning the last part.
The two continue walking until eventually Gumshoe finds another woman. She’s tall and slender, wearing another white coat.
“Raymond is with a client.” She replies, Gumshoe sighing loudly. She raises an eyebrow. “Why are you asking for Raymond?”
“Isn’t it obvious? This boy next to-“ He starts, turning to see nobody. He goes pale, feeling his heart sink. “Uh, I-…”
He scratches his head, looking around to try find the boy. He just curses to himself before excusing himself to find the boy.
Miles is sat on a small bench beside the window, looking down at a cat. It has lovely grey fur, its green eyes peering up at Miles as he reaches through the very small opening to pet it.
“Pal!” He hears behind him, huffing and heaving. The cat looks distressed, jumping away to a safer distance. Peering still at the window. Miles sits, annoyed.
“You scared my cat.” He curses, Gumshoe groaning.
“That cat is actually mine.” He mutters. “It’s named Scallop.”
“Scallop…?” Miles questions, glancing back to see the cat licking its paw.
“Yeah pal. It’s the hospitals but it followed me first!!” He huffs.
(Is someone jealous?)
“Anyways, stop running off!! I just found out where Raymond is.” He taps his finger.
Miles gets up, as the two walk back up to the ward. “I’m guessing this is your ward since most his patients are up here, and since you’re a child…” He says.
“I’m not a child.” Miles huffs, Gumshoe just scratches his head.
“Then what are you?”
“A young adult.”
“Buddy I am a young adult. You are a teenager. A child!” He exclaims, laughing loudly.
“You’re not young.”
“Hey!! You’re awfully chatty now aren’t ya?” He groans defensively.
Miles shakes his head, walking back to his bed.
“No thank you?”
Miles ignore him, getting inside his bed once again.
“Fine. Bye pal, you know where to find me if ya need me.” He yells out, although Miles didn’t know.
Miles waits until he’s gone to pull out a small pouch with letters of paper in them from his bag. There’s only around 5 but they’re filled with writing and strange doodles. He smiles softly, looking down to see…
Sincerely, your sun, Phoenix Wright.