In response to the PWKM prompt:

It's been many years since the UR-1 incident, but old wounds never do heal. Either Simon or Athena still wake up from nightmares as Metis' death anniversary approaches every year. The children begin to notice. Cykesquill family fic thing.

Disclaimer: The author does not own the Gyakuten Saiban (Ace Attorney) franchise.

Most of the time, Lloyd Blackquill never really minded all the extraneous noise that came with his fine-tuned hearing. He found it easy to single out the relevant sounds around him, to focus only on the voice speaking to him, on the thoughts calling out to him.

Sometimes, he wished he'd been born deaf instead.

A new wave of muffled cries came from Mom and Dad's bedroom. It was always like this every year, on the eve of Grandma's death anniversary. Thirty years had passed since then, Dad said. They remained strong. Picked themselves up, moved on. Lived new lives, found love, started a family. But maybe it wasn't enough. Time heals but never erases.

Lloyd turned over in his bed, lips pressed thinly in a rueful smile. He envied Eve and her congenital deafness. How she lIves in her own little world, reveling in the total silence, blissfully oblivious to everything around her. She knew nothing of the anguish, the pain, the sheer helplessness that rolls in waves as their parents silently relive the tragedies in their hearts.

He'd always seen through them - Mom and Dad convincingly putting on a cheerful facade, letting nothing slip all these years. A knowing, amused smirk, followed by outlandishly wisecrack tall tales. The widest, happiest, brightest grin that outshone even the sun itself. More than once, he found himself almost believing them.

But it was no use - the Cykes blood in him was too strong, forcing him to hear their innermost thoughts and feelings, that not even the best of professional help and psychological therapy could ever cover or even correct.

He wished Mom would lean on him. He wished Dad would confide in him. Tell him everything. But they were too strong, too proud, too loving and caring to bare their hearts to their children, if only to spare their young minds from the horrible, horrible wounds of the past.

As Mom's choked sobs reached his ears once more, Lloyd reached for his music player, turned it up to the maximum volume, and put in the earbuds. It wasn't at all a healthy practice, but it was the only way to block out the voices he knew not how to tune out.

As the opening riffs of Guilty Love filled his senses, he immersed himself in the music, hoping he'd quickly fall to slumber. For all his abilities of empathy and enhanced hearing, he could not do anything for his parents who did not want the help. He could not bear the burdensome feelings of such rejection weighing in his mind and in his heart.

He felt useless. He was useless.