April 20, 2019

            On her first day back in Germany, Franziska had immediately gone to her original place of employment and demanded her old job back.  She had an immense desire to return to some sense of normalcy, and work was the easiest way she could see in which to do it.  Five days after returning to the country she was already preparing to enter the court again; it really had been too long.

            Yet, ‘normal’ for Franziska had changed.  Being home was not like it had always been.  It was not quite so lonely as it had once been; the big empty mansion she had grown up in was beginning to feel much more populated, and she couldn’t quite explain it.

            “You’re much more gracious than you used to be, Dearie,” the cook said.  She had overheard Franziska asking Miles if he thought things seemed different when she came to deliver the tea.  “So were not trying so hard to avoid you.”

            “Thank you,” Miles said, standing up and going to help with the tray.  Franziska remained sitting and frowning thoughtfully at the rug.  She took her cup when Miles placed the tea set in front of her; pensively she stirred the drink.

            “Do you agree with her?” Franziska asked, glancing up at him.

            “It seems likely that the change has more to do with you than the whole of Germany,” he told her, preparing his own tea.

            “Don’t be sarcastic, Miles Edgeworth, you don’t have the sense of humor to pull it off.”

            “I wasn’t being completely sarcastic,” he said, leaning back in his chair, “As much as you like to pretend you’re completely grown-up, you’re still very young and you’re still maturing.”

            “If this isn’t a lead in to a compliment, I am going to hurt you,” she threatened, one brow raised.

            “I was going to say, that I think you’ve become much less self-absorbed.  You’re more aware of the people around you, and you’re slightly more empathetic.”

            “Just slightly?” she asked.  He nodded, and she threw a sugar cube at him.

            He gave her a small smile, “I’m trying to compliment you.”

            “You’re not trying very hard,” she informed him.  The two siblings went back to their work, Franziska organizing her case and Miles sorting through some of Manfred’s finances.  They were quiet as they worked, each thinking completely different thoughts.

            “Dear God,” Miles murmured eventually, “I’m going to have to call you’re father’s lawyer again.”

            “If I ever become a finance lawyer, I give you permission to shoot me,” Franziska told him without looking up from her papers.

            “If I did that,” he said tiredly, “I’d have to call your Father’s lawyer even more.”

            “Why do you have such a strong hatred for the man?” Franziska asked, at last raising her eyes.

            “Every time I call him he makes me prove that I was legally adopted.  It’s very tiresome and I know he knows I’m telling the truth.”

            “Let me call him then,” Franziska offered, “He won’t question me.”

            “The servants have told me that a number of times.  One of the maids even suggested we get married so that people would have to admit that I was technically an heir.”  Her expression changed to one of complete disgust.  “I wasn’t saying we should do it,” He explained hurriedly.

            “Mein Gott, I hope not,” Franziska said, “Now hand me the phone.”

oOo

May 8, 2019

            Life was going about as well for Franziska as could have been expected.  At work she was once again the prodigy, although she had lost a case or two when she really thought the defendant was innocent, it was a natural side effect that came from going up against Phoenix Wright.  Her home life was pleasant as well, she was getting on much better with the servants, and she was glad that Miles Edgeworth was with her.  She was even allowing herself a bit of free time every so often, and she had read a couple of excellent novels that she had never touched before.

            The problem was that she still missed Diego.  She would not have said she was unhappy, after all she was doing just fine without him, but something just felt empty.  Franziska was perfectly fine, but when she had been with him, she had felt so much more than fine.  The whole world had been wonderful, and now everything was plain again.

            Yet she couldn’t go back.  She was utterly convinced that it would only hurt the both of them.  So she remained in Germany, missing him, but trying to make do with what she had.  Still she couldn’t help but think of him, even as she refused to do anything about it.

            Franziska knelt on the floor by the hearth in the library prodding the logs with a poker, her eyes looking at the flames without really seeing them.  Miles sat behind her in an old and extravagant armchair.  There was a large notebook on his lap, and he was trying to create a system of organization for von Karma’s funds.

            “Miles?” Franziska asked thoughtfully.

            “Yes?” he encourage, surprised that she hadn’t said his last name.

            “Have you ever been in love?” She turned and looked at him, “And answer seriously.  None of your failed sarcasm.”

            Miles leaned back into the soft plush of the armchair, and stared thoughtfully at the fire.  He said nothing for a long time.  Franziska watched him with mild concern.  The look on his face was a distant one, his brow furrowed with deep melancholy.

            “I don’t know,” he said finally, “Either way, I don’t much see how it matters.”

            “Who?” Franziska asked quietly, wondering if she knew who it was.

            “It doesn’t matter,” he answered his voice forlorn.  “What matters is that we do what must be done.”

            “What are you talking about?” Franziska asked, confused.

            “This is where I’m needed now,” Miles told her.  “There are things that have to be done here, things that have to be fixed and organized.  Anything else can wait.”

            Franziska watched him as he sighed, gave one last glance at the fire, and returned to the numbers in his notebook.  It was a side of him that she’d never seen before, and she found herself wishing that she had a more comforting personality.  She settled for putting a hand on his knee.

            “If there’s anything you ever want to do, I can always take over here.”

            “It’s fine,” he answered. “It’s of little consequence.”

            “I don’t think so,” Franziska told him, frowning, “I used to think such feelings were utterly foolish but…” she faltered, trying to figure out the best way to word her thoughts, “There’s something to be said for a person who can bring you true contentedness.”

            “Do you speak from experience?” he asked laughing slightly as though it were a joke.

            “Perhaps,” she answered turning back to the fire.

oOo

May 20, 2019

            Franziska felt that something was wrong.  She had felt it for the past few days, but so far she had worked hard to ignore it.  After all, gut instinct was something she had long looked down on.  It was completely illogical to think that one could get a vague feeling that held even so much as a grain of truth. 

            Yet she couldn’t help but feel that something was wrong, and the troubling sensation was with her constantly, at work or at home.  She had tried to hide that she was having any sort of unease from those around her, but one night as she settled in front of the fire, Miles spoke out.

            “What is it that’s bothering you?” he said, closing his book and putting it on his lap.  He looked at her with deep and honest concern.

            She wasn’t sure how to answer him.  She had said nothing about what had happened in the U.S. after he had left, and she didn’t know if she wanted to tell him now. 

            “Have you ever,” she began carefully, “have you ever instinctively felt that something was terribly wrong with someone who was important to you?”

            “Is this about Godot?”

            “How did you know?” Franziska demanded, turning quickly to look at her brother.

            “I like to think that I have relatively impressive deductive skills, but even if I didn’t I imagine I could have worked it out.” He sipped his tea and smirked slightly, the look did not entirely reach his eyes.

            Franziska frowned, but decided that, so long as he knew that much, she might as well tell him the rest.  “I left because I didn’t think he was quite ready to be in a relationship just yet.  There were some things he hadn’t quite come to terms with yet.  But lately I’ve just had this terrible feeling that something is wrong.”

            “I suppose everybody gets strange sensations of that sort upon occasion.  However, I doubt they ever actually mean anything,” he told her shrugging.

            “So when exactly have you felt that way?” she asked, watching his face carefully.

            “I can’t think of anything specific,” he said.  “A couple times last month I had those random sort of feelings.  Nothing came of them.”

            They were quiet again.  Franziska had pulled her knees up to her chest and was running her finger along the grout of the hearth bricks absentmindedly.  Miles was busying himself with his tea.

            “I’m going back,” Franziska said decidedly, slapping her hand against the floor and looking up at him.  Miles looked at her seriously.

            “Are you sure?” he asked.

            “I never say anything I’m not sure of,” she told him, standing.  He stood as well, putting his tea down as he did.  He smiled at her gently before suddenly hugging her.

            “You’re a very strong woman, Franziska.  I trust you won’t do anything you do not want or think is in your best interest.”

            “I need to know that he’s alright,” she said hugging her brother back. “It will bother me forever if I do not go now.”

            Miles squeezed her tighter for just a moment before letting her go, “I wish you only good luck.”

            “Thank you, Miles” she said and hurried out of the room.

oOo

May 22, 2019

            “Dammit Scruffy, where is he?” Franziska had been everywhere she could think to go.  She had been to the Prosecutor’s Office, gone to Diego’s apartment, and had even checked their usual restaurant.  He had been nowhere, no matter when she went, and when she had asked the secretary at the Prosecutor’s Office if she knew where he was, the woman had refused to say.  So Franziska had gone to the police office, and was currently threatening a terrified Gumshoe.

            “Don’t hurt me Sir!”

            “Just tell me what you know,” Franziska ordered.  Gumshoe nodded.

            “Maybe you should sit down first, Sir.” Terror shot through her at the sound of those words.  Her entire body tensed, and she set her jaw.

            “Just say it,” she said through gritted teeth.

            “Yeah, okay.  So, he was working on that case, see?  The one you two were sharing before.  So anyway, he was looking into some stuff, see?  You heard about the gang before you left, right, sir?”

            Franziska nodded, urging him on with his story.

            “So I think he got a little too close to the gang.  So he became sort of a target, see?” He stopped abruptly and looked at her sadly.

            “What happened!?  Dammit Scruffy, tell me!” she screamed.

            “He’s in the hospital, Sir!  They hit him with a car.  It wouldn’t have been so very bad, but he’s not so very well, see?  He got busted up a fair amount, and that mask of his was completely destroyed.” Franziska felt faint, and for a moment she thought her legs wouldn’t support her.

            “No,” she said suddenly.  “I can feel weak later. Now,” she turned to Gumshoe, “You take me to where he is.”

oOo

            “I’m sorry, but he’s asked not to have any visitors.  You can try coming back on another day if you wish,” the nurse at the desk smiled kindly at Franziska.  Franziska did not smile kindly back.

            “I don’t think you know who I am,” she said, leaning over the desk and frowning down at the woman. 

            “It doesn’t matter who you are.  He’s asked that no visitors be allowed in his room, and we have to abide by that.  If you do not leave than I’m going to have to call someone and have you removed.”

            “I have a burly police officer waiting downstairs, and if you do not let me in, I am going to have to call him and have you removed,” Franziska growled, giving the woman a look that made it perfectly clear that she was serious.

            “That’s not true…” the nurse said, but she didn’t sound terribly convinced.  Franziska turned on her heel, prepared to go and fetch the detective.  “Wait,” the nurse called, her voice high and frightened.  “I suppose I could let you in, at least for a little while.”

            “How terribly gracious of you,” Franziska said, her voice dripping in sarcasm, “Now what number was his room again?”

oOo

            A numbing silence hung over the hospital room and it cooled Franziska’s heated temper.  Diego lay sleeping soundly in his bed, completely unaware of her presence.  She approached him slowly, and sat down by his side.

            Though she had seen his bare face before, on those occasions when she had spitefully stolen his mask, she had never really looked at it.  She had never noticed that his brows retained the same dark coloring of his beard, or just how strong and handsome the bridge of his nose was, and she was now transfixed by the thin scar that crossed over his face.

            His eyelids fluttered softly and then opened.  Franziska sat back abruptly, thinking, for a moment, that he had seen her.  But, of course, he hadn’t.  His eyes mesmerized her.  They were still brown, the color she knew he’d been born with, but there was cloudiness to them.  His pupils moved about, sightless, and he did not see her, even as she stared on him.

            He sat up with a heavy sigh and turned towards Franziska, reaching out to the table beside her.  His fingers fumbled clumsily about until he finally found a small orange bottle of pills.  He began to open it, but stopped, sighed, and placed it back on the table.

            “You were supposed to take one, weren’t you?” Franziska asked without thinking.

            “Oh my God!” Diego looked wildly about, “Who’s there?”

            “It’s alright, Diego.  Calm down,” Franziska said, reaching out and taking his arm firmly.  An expression of total confusion crossed his face.  His brows furrowed, and suddenly his eyes grew wide.

            “Franziska?” he asked quietly.

            “Yes,” she said, “It’s me.”  Following her touch, Diego reached out and wrapped his arms around her, burying his face in the crook of her neck.  There was one heavy sob, and she felt warm tears on her skin.  He then pulled back quickly and wiped at his eyes with the back of his wrist.

            “I’m sorry,” he told her.  “I just haven’t heard a familiar voice in so long.”

            “Well that’s no surprise,” Franziska leaned forward and wiped a missed tear from his cheek, “Apparently you forbid anyone from visiting.”

            “I wasn’t in the mood to pitied,” Diego said darkly.

            “But I’m acceptable?”

            “I would never worry about you being too compassionate,” he answered, almost smiling.  Suddenly he looked at her in confusion, “but what the hell are you doing here?  I thought you went back to Germany.”

            “I did,” Franziska said, “But I was worried you’d do something stupid, so I came back.  I knew investigating was dangerous, I should never have let you go alone.”

            “Don’t mock me now, Ziska.  I have it bad enough.”

            “It’s better than pity,” she said.  “Now take your pills, or I’ll hit you.”

            Diego did as he was told, before settling back in his blankets and staring sightlessly at the ceiling.  Franziska sat beside him, saying nothing, just watching him.  There was a heavy melancholy air about him.

            “Are you still mad at me, Ziska?” he whispered finally.

            “I wasn’t mad,” she said, taking his hand.  “Well, I may have been somewhat mad… but that wasn’t all of it.  You had things to work out, and I felt I couldn’t be there while you did it.”

            “Are you going to leave again?” his voice sounded terribly lost.

            “Maybe.  But not until you’re better,” she stood up and placed a hand gently on his hair.  “I’ll come back tomorrow.  But I left the detective downstairs and I should really return him to the police station.”

oOo

May 27, 2019

            Franziska had come back the next day, and the day after that, and the one after that, and so on, until it could no longer have been possible for Diego to believe that anything could stop her from coming.  Conventionally speaking she was not a terribly comforting presence.  She did not fluff pillows or listen sympathetically when he fell into self-pity.  In fact whenever he got to feeling bad for himself she would mock him, or go out into the hospital and come back with a story so terribly tragic that he could not help but feel lucky.

            But, it was because she behaved like this that he liked having her there.  She was so completely logical, that she made it difficult for him to put things wildly out of perspective.  On top of this she was helpful, without ever being patronizing.  She would fetch him something if he asked her too, but never if he was capable of doing it himself.  In fact, she would often force him to do things if she thought he could.

            “Oh come now, Diego, you’re perfectly capable of pouring that for yourself,” Franziska snapped one afternoon.  She had brewed him some coffee that morning and had left the pot with a mug by his bedside.

            “What if I spill it?” he argued.

            “Then we’ll call the nurse and she can bring you new blankets,” she answered simply.  He glared at her, before very carefully pouring himself a mug.  He slopped a little on his hand.

            “Shit,” he growled.  Franziska tossed a hand towel at him from where she sat.  It landed on his head.  “What’s this?”

            “It’s a towel.  Wipe your hand off, and get the bit that’s on the table.”

            Diego dried his hand and the table in silence.  Suddenly he threw the towel to the ground and swore.  “I’m so damn useless!”

            Franziska looked up at him, before putting down the paper she had been reading and going to sit on the side of his bed.  “You’re frustrated, aren’t you?”

            “You think?” he asked testily.  She hit him up the side of the head.

            “I’m trying to be nice!” she snapped.

            “I know.  I’m sorry,” he said quietly, “It’s just…  I hate being this weak!  I hate having to have everything done for me like I’m some sort of child.”

            Franziska placed one of her hands over his, and rubbed it gently.  “I know you hate this, but it will get better.  They’ll be able to get you a new mask eventually, and even if they couldn’t, you’d be able to learn how to care for yourself just fine.  You just have to learn how to do things little by little, and then you’ll be fine.  Sometimes I think you’re so afraid of being weak, that you just cover up your problems and never learn to overcome them.”

            She leaned against him, continuing to hold his hand gently.  It was the closest they’d been since he’d embraced her on the day of their reunion.  Franziska liked being so near to him, but still she held herself back from doing anything more and they sat there in silence as Diego mulled over what she had said.

            “I never really noticed that you wore gloves before,” he told her quietly, putting his other hand over hers.

            “See,” she said laughing slightly, “eyes are over rated.”

oOo

May 30, 2019

            “Daddy!  I found the room.  It’s this one, see?  It’s got the right numbers!”

            “I think your right.  Good job, Kiddo.”

            And then there was a knock on the door.  Franziska turned to look at Diego who was currently raising an eyebrow.

            “Could it be one of your brother in laws?” she asked him, unable to think of any other fathers of young children who might be visiting.

            “I doubt it,” Diego said shrugging.  “You should probably see who it is.”

            Slowly Franziska went to the door and opened it.  She stood staring in shock.

            “Who is it?” Diego called from his bed.

            “A hobo and a small girl in a top hat,” Franziska answered, her voice portraying her own bewilderment.

            “Just because I’m blind doesn’t mean you can make shit up,” he called back angrily. 

            The little girl tugged at the man’s sleeve, and when he looked down she spoke to him in an overdramatic stage whisper, “Take off your hat.  They don’t know who you are!”

            The man obliged, and suddenly Franziska found herself facing a man she knew well.  “It’s Phoenix Wright.” She said.

            “Guess you haven’t been keeping up with the news much, huh?” Phoenix asked, laughing to himself in an uncharacteristically bitter way.

            “So you made up the hobo?” Diego called out.

            “No,” Franziska answered, “Phoenix Wright is the hobo.”  There was no response.  She continued to stare in bewilderment at Phoenix, as the little girl slipped past her and went to stare at Diego.

            “Your eyes are pretty cool looking, but I wanted to see your toaster face,” she told him.

            “Trucy, you really shouldn’t say stuff like that,” Phoenix said weakly, looking rather embarrassed.

            “But you said his face looked like a toaster.  It sounded awesome!” She skipped over to her father and looked up at him excitedly.

            “Whose the kid?” Diego asked, deciding it wasn’t worth the effort to ask about precisely what Phoenix had told the child.

            “This is Trucy.  She’s kind of on her own right now, so she’s staying with me for a little while.”

            The child gave a theatrical bow, before realizing that Diego couldn’t see anything.  “I just bowed,” she informed him.

            “Why are you dressed like that?” Franziska demanded, uninterested in the child’s antics.

            “It’s kind of a long story.  I’m sure you can find out everything you need to know if you search my name on any local newspaper’s website.  I’m more worried about Armando, here.  I heard you got hit by a car.”

            “It’s not so bad,” Diego said gruffly.  “It’s more old stuff acting up than anything else.  I’d feel bad complaining about it to a guy who fell thirty feet off a burning bridge.”

            “Still, it must be pretty boring being stuck here all day.  I brought you some books if you want them.  I found them cleaning out the office, and I thought you might need something to do.” Phoenix said.  Trucy took off her hat and pulled out three fat little novels.

            “You just missed a magic trick,” Franziska informed Diego, as she took the novels from the child’s eager hands.

            “They must’ve been some of your dead girlfriend’s favorites, since she kept them in her office and all that,” Trucy said excitedly.

            “I really need to stop telling her things,” Phoenix muttered, sounding weary but amused.  “Anyway we should get back to cleaning.  I hope to see you guys around sometime.”

            He nodded to Franziska, and then steered his excitable new daughter out the door.  A befuddled silence hung in the room for some minutes after they left.

            “Well that was bizarre,” Franziska said dully, “I really need to find out what happened.”

            “You spend a month or two in the hospital and you miss everything,” Diego muttered.  He shrugged and then asked, “What books did he bring?”

            Franziska looked down at the novels she was holding. “Wuthering Heights, Jane Eyre, and Pride and Prejudice.  Sort of a girly assortment if you ask me.”

            “You don’t like romance novels, Ziska?” Diego asked chuckling.

            “They’re generally rather foolish.  There’s a sticky note on Jane Eyre, it seems that Phoenix Wright thinks that we’d enjoy it.”

            “Maybe later,” Diego said smirking, “I don’t think you an I could make it through a romance novel together without mocking the thing to shreds.”

oOo

June 5, 2019

            Another week had passed, bringing with it a few more visitors.  Diego’s mother had swept in, bringing with her an impressive array of cookies and homemade cards from all the nieces and nephews.  She had hugged her son, scolded him for refusing to see her earlier, and proceeded to clean and organize the entire room.

            Gumshoe had visited as well, bringing with him the news that their case had entered the court stage and was now being handled by some brilliant new prosecutor.  Franziska had felt a twinge of jealousy when she had found out that he was even younger than herself, but overall she decided that he could have the case so long as he won it.

            There had also been a few long phone calls with Miles Edgeworth, who had taken the news about Phoenix’s disbarment rather hard, but who still insisted that he must remain in Germany. 

            For the most part, however, the two of them were alone.  Somehow they had fallen back into their old report.  They enjoyed one another’s presence and conversation immensely, and both were happy to have the other there.  Yet things had not returned entirely to the way they’d been before.  Neither made any romantic gesture to the other, each too afraid of that something would go wrong.

            When Franziska arrived one morning in early June, she found Diego standing by the window of his room and letting a warm breeze play across his face.  He was dressed in his own clothing, rather than the hospital issue pajamas she’d seen him in so often recently.  He turned to her when he heard the door open, and smiled.

            “I’m being released,” he told her.

            “Now?” she asked, mildly shocked.

            “I think they’re sick of haggling with my insurance company,” he said with a laugh.  “They had someone in here earlier trying to teach me how to use this,” he brandished a white cane, “Sexy, no?”

            “You’re awfully cheery this morning,” Franziska commented, going to join him by the window. She scrutinized the cane closely, “You could whack someone pretty well with that.”

            He chuckled, and sat himself down on the sill.  Franziska joined him, sitting so close that they were pressed together.  A pensive look passed over his face,  “Are you going back to Germany?”

            She frowned, thoughtfully, “I don’t think so,” she said eventually, “Are you going to come back to work.”

            A surprisingly shy smile graced his face, and he reached his hand out to her.  “That’s one of the reasons I asked if you were staying.  I’m not sure that I’ll be too much use by myself.  I was wondering if we could, maybe, work together a little.  I thought we made a pretty good team.”

            “You want my help?” she asked, although the words were less a question than they were her thoughts taking form.

            “I know I was kind of an ass before,” he said quietly, giving her hand a squeeze, “But I swear I won’t be so controlling anymore.  I don’t mind depending on you every once in a while.”  He waited, in darkness, for her answer, wishing he could see the expression on her face.  He wanted to know what she was thinking, whether or not she was disgusted by the idea of ever working with him again.

            Suddenly, however, he felt her arms around his neck, her lips on his own, and something wet on his cheek.  “Are you crying, Ziska?”

            “No,” she said cheerfully, her voice shaking with the effort of hiding her tears. “I’m just… happy.”  She kissed him again, leaning her whole body against him.

            Diego did not know what to think.  He enjoyed having her there in his arms, but it was all so sudden that he felt altogether shocked.  Eventually he managed to choke out the word, “Why?”

            “I think I love you more than ever,” she answered, laying her head against his chest.

            “But… why?” he asked again, still bewildered.  His voice was sorrowful, “I’m so much older than you, Franziska.  And I’m weak and I’m blind.  Why would you ever want to be with me?”

            “Because you’re just as amusing, just as clever, just as handsome, and just as strong as you ever were before, but your not nearly so stubborn and proud.  I like you so much better this way.” She smiled up at him.  “It’s much easier to like someone when they feel that they can depend on you a little.”

            Diego smiled at her, that rare, beautiful, and genuine smile that she had fallen in love with.  She saw, at last, the rest of the expression, the pleasant crinkling of his eyes, and slight raise of brows.  He kissed her gently on the forehead and tightened his embrace.

            “So none of it bothers you?” he asked, this time sounding willing to believe.

            “Of course not.  Your eyesight is already shot, and your hair is already gray; so what does it matter what the age difference is, since I won’t be able to tell when you start growing old before me?” She smirked at him, and was met with the satisfaction of his deep and pleasing laughter.

 

 

The End!