A quick oneshot, done late at night after reading the Odyssey for Ancient History h/w. I take no blame for how crap it is XD

SPOILERS for all between 1-4 to 2-4! If you've played the games, or don't mind spoilers, read on.

Ok, this is my thoughts on Phoenix's state of mind after Edgey writes that stupid note. I thought at first he was being a bit of a cold bitch about it all seeing as he really believed Edgey had topped himself, but then it occured to me that the guy's probably feeling mega-guilty about the whole thing. I mean, maybe if he hadn't turned up, Edgey would still have been being used and chewed up by various prosecutors/chiefs of police, but at least he'd still be a perfect prosecutor and not so much angstmuffin. Probably killed, but less angst anyway.

So yeah, this is my view on why Phoenix is being such a bitch all throughout JfA whenever Edgey is mentioned.

Disclaimer: Don't own AA or any characters from it. In my defence for my writing, I've also not got to the bit where Edgey writes the note, or when he comes back (haven't completed Rise from the Ashes or 2-4, as I left my DS in another country when I came to Uni haha) so it might not be entirely correct.

No matter what Phoenix might have told himself, told Maya in a low, angry voice, hissed with venom and just the hint of sadness, he knew that his belief that Edgeworth was a coward was just a safety net for how he really felt.

In the back of his mind, he knew precisely why he'd come up with the whole thing in the first place. For how could he face it, the gnawing possibility that plagued him whenever he let his mind stray into that dark place, the fact that the whole thing, everything, might be entirely his own fault?

He remembered learning about that note. The confusion, at first, mixed with shock. He could hardly believe it was real – because why, why would he kill himself after learning he hadn't been the murderer of his father after all, after having the true killer unveiled at last and his father's ghost laid to rest?

There were many reasons, of course.

His first ever loss, followed swiftly by another, both at the hands of a fledgling lawyer, an old friend.

Learning that his mentor, his adoptive father, in fact, had been the true killer, over something so petty as a perfect win record, and had raised him not to become an efficient lawyer and maximise his potential, but to be used, humiliated and cast aside in revenge for what he had inadvertently done, in revenge for something his father had done.

Learning that he had been used by others, all through his career, passing on and presenting forged evidence, transporting a dead body, all entirely unwittingly.

The resultant press coverage.

The rumours, the whispered words that would silence when he walked into a room.

The humiliation, the cloying pressure.

It all added up.

No, Phoenix Wright knew that Miles Edgeworth had not committed suicide for something so petty as a perfect win record. He knew that what with everything that had happened, it wasn't actually all that surprising that the man had felt that he'd lost control over his own life and decided to take it. But this wasn't what made Phoenix felt so much dread, what caused the feeling of doubt and uncertainty, what made him so unbearably sad at times.

It was the simple fact that, if Phoenix had not interfered, Miles Edgeworth might still be alive.

Phoenix had often thought over it, in the privacy of his apartment, the curtains drawn so the nosy neighbours couldn't see his tear-streaked face. If he hadn't won against Edgeworth, hadn't broken the first of the barriers that kept the man in check, perhaps the prosecutor would have had the strength to endure this. But no, he had to drag up the cold memories of so long ago, lay them out for the world to see. And to add insult to injury, had proceeded to reveal, equally publically, that Edgeworth had been unwittingly using forged evidence, had in fact transported the bloodied body of a murdered detective in the back of his sports car across the city, had been used and controlled by the twisted Chief of Police…

Phoenix could never finish the list of things he had done to Edgeworth, the wounds he had involuntarily inflicted onto his old friend. He would get so far, then the tears would overcome him and his head would sink into his hands, leaving him to sob the rest of the night.

A part of his mind, a reasonable part that had a voice suspiciously like that of Mia Fey, would try to tell him that maybe it would have been inevitable, that nothing Phoenix could have done(or not done) could have prevented it. He would have been convicted for the murder of Robert Hammond. Not long after, would be the revelation that he had used forged evidence – most probably revealed by that schemer, Damon Gant himself. He would have been executed as a criminal.

Perhaps that would have been kinder, Phoenix would think. Rather that, than killed by a foolish, ignorant friend who was trying to do his friend a favour. After all, what kind of man was he, Phoenix would think, a man who came into law to save an old friend from his fate…only to drive him to suicide instead.

And so, to stop himself from falling into that dark abyss, Phoenix hardened his heart. He refused to mention the man's name again, would scold those who did, drove all thought of the silver-haired, magenta-suited, cravat-wearing prosecutor out of his head and pretended the man had been a coward and nothing more, just so he could keep his own sanity.

As for hating Edgeworth…he knew he never could.

Mind you, he came very close when the smirking, smarmy, god-awfully sarcastic prosecutor waltzed back into his life.

Like I said, haven't played 2-4 yet, but from what I've heard, Edgeworth walking back in makes Phoenix turn into bitch-queen-from-hell. Not that you can really blame him, especially if you believe the almost-canon (or is that just my headcanon?) that Phoenix had a major man-crush on Edgey.