Phoenix Rose Chapter 1

Story by Pandtastic-ninja

Miles POV

I stepped off the plane, breathing in my first lung-full of the autumn crisp air of San Diego. It's been seven years since I've last been to the beautiful state of California. But this time was different... I wasn't here on business.

"Dad! Wait up!" My son's voice rang out behind me. I smiled at the sound of his lightly accented tongue and stopped as he requested. I heard the slap of his footsteps against the ground, catching up to me. He grabbed my arm, laughing as he did.

"I thought you were tired, Dakota." I said softly. He chuckled softly and squeezed my arm. His dark gray-black hair was blowing in the slight breeze, his soft blue-gray eyes alight with joy.

"Yes I am, but I'm having fun so it all evens out." Dakota said, that bright smile never leaving his face. I, myself, couldn't fight the smile stretching my lips. Dakota was the kind of boy who lit up a room. He was bubbly and could almost always attract people to him. Quite the opposite of me.

"Let's get you to the hotel room. You need to rest. You haven't slept since two nights ago, correct?" I asked him, leading him to the baggage claim. Dakota nodded in affirmation and hauled his bag up. After making our way out of the airport, we met up with Detective Gumshoe at his patrol car. The detective was lounging against the side of his car, and if I looked closely enough I could see the vehicle tilt a little. Dakota smiled brightly, after stifling a yawn, and ran to the detective.

"Mr. Gumshoe! You're much taller than I expected. I look so short compared to you." Dakota nearly giggled, looking the man over. Gumshoe blushed slightly and rubbed the back of his head.

"Awww, thanks pal. But you're not that short." The detective assured. He opened the door for my child and Dakota nearly flopped in. He didn't because I taught him to sit properly in a car, no matter how tired. Gumshoe ran around to the other side of the vehicle then, opening the passenger door for me. I thanked him and climbed in, after putting my bag in the trunk. I chuckled as I looked into the back seat, finding Dakota asleep already. Gumshoe ambled around to his side of the car and slumped in rather ungracefully, making the teen in the back stir.

"Has he grown since the last time we've talked, sir?" Gumshoe asked, looking over his shoulder at my son. I half shrugged. He was talking about the web camera conferences we've had over the course of the seven years. Dakota would sometimes talk to the detective when I needed a break. We've been planning my return, we just didn't know when or how.

"It has been a couple of months. He could have, why?" I responded, not taking my eyes from the boy. Dakota shifted, as if feeling us staring. I broke my gaze away to keep him comfortable. Gumshoe turned his eyes toward me, a goofy grin on his face.

"He just looks like his hair grew out more... aw, forget I brought it up, sir." Gumshoe said as he turned the key in the ignition. I raised an eyebrow at him but let the subject drop. He drove us to our hotel, his eyes widening as he parked.

"Wow..." Gumshoe mumbled. I had momentarily forgot he had a very low salary and didn't even get to step into places like this. The hotel was modest by my standards but it could've been the best looking hotel in the world to him. I glanced over my shoulder and saw that Dakota was still sleeping, curled up against the seat.

"Detective, I hate to bother you with this but would you mind carrying Dakota? He is pretty big now and I'm not strong enough to carry him. It would be a shame to wake him." I said, still looking at the boy. Gumshoe blushed slightly and stammered that he wouldn't mind. I climbed out and retrieved our bags from the back. Gumshoe unbuckled Dakota, holding the boy close to his body.

"Detective be careful where you hold him, his skin is sensitive." I said, noting Gumshoe's hand was holding Dakota under his thigh. Dakota's right thigh was terribly scarred from an accident when he was younger. He was trying to cook me a surprise dinner of macaroni and cheese when he tripped, the boiling water spilling onto his leg. I saw Dakota squirm a little in Gumshoe's grasp and the detective kindly moved his hand. I lead him up to our room, taking my time so I didn't drop our belongings. I set the bags down by the door when we entered the room. Gumshoe layed my boy on the bed, covering his small body with the sheets provided. Gumshoe took a second, when he thought I wasn't looking, to stroke the boy's hair lovingly. Seems the detective had something for my son.

"Thank you, detective, for your assistance. I understand today is your day off." I said, snapping the man back to attention. He nodded to me, his hand touching the back of his neck. He wasn't looking my way, like I had caught him with his hand in the cookie jar.

"You can leave now." I said softly, unsure if I should call him out on it or just let him leave. Gumshoe nodded again, this time looking to me, a new fierceness to his eyes. I was nearly taken aback, that stern look in his eyes catching me off guard.

"You're welcome, sir. I just wanted to say that Dakota is a beautiful boy. He's lucky to have a father like you." Gumshoe finished his statement and left before I could respond. I blinked a few times, unused to Gumshoe talking to me like that. It wasn't bad, he was just always so clumsy with words. When he spoke just now, it seemed as if he knew exactly what he was going to say.

I brushed it off, and sat next to my son on the bed. He was, as the detective said, beautiful. He got his mother's face, not nearly as stern as mine. His lips were full and he had long eyelashes that were currently splayed across his cheeks. Back in Germany, in the short time he was in public school, the other children were jealous of him. Which was part of the reason I sent him to privet school when I received custody of him.

After looking him over for a bit, I got us unpacked. As I was setting Dakota's clothes into the dresser, something pulled at my senses. I creased my brow, feeling someone was in danger near. I tried to blow it off, but I found my feet walking toward the door. I made my way down to the bottom floor, letting my feet take the lead seeing as how they knew the way. I soon found myself on the outside of the hotel, near the back. I stood in front of a metal gate, the feeling pulling even harder at me. I looked the gate over, noting it didn't look like it would budge. I tested it, the metal making a slight creaking sound as it slid open. My gut was telling me to go down those stairs, just beyond the gate. But when have I listened to my gut and not my brain? Something in the back of my mind told me it was a better idea to go down there myself, instead of calling the detective back.

I slowly descended the stairs, my hand against the damp wall to keep balance as it got darker. Something wasn't right here. As I reached the bottom as foul smell assaulted my nose, the smell of human waste. I could also smell traces of blood, weaker than the latter though. I made my way into the tiny room at the end of the stairway. I listened closely, for any sounds of life. A small sound made it's way into my ear. A tiny whimper, barely audible over the sounds of the moving residents above. At the sound I dug around in my pockets for my key-chain flash light. I shined it around the room, until it fell on a sight I wish I had never seen.

Phoenix Wright, a once greatly established defense attorney, sat on the cold floor. His body was nude except a clothe covering his lower regions. He was devastatingly thin, looking as if he hadn't eaten in months. His hands were bound behind him, and he shied away from the light. I swallowed the lump in my throat and kept control. I knelt beside him and tried to get the chains of his wrists. They wouldn't budge. There had to be something around here to break them. I found a crowbar nearby and broke them clean off. Phoenix looked at me, his eyes glazed over. He was drugged.

"Wright can you hear me?" I asked, touching his back. He jumped and whimpered again, making me pull my hand back. I needed to get him out of here. I picked him up, surprised at how light he was. He was whimpering, squirming against my arm. It must've hurt. I apologized to him. I hurried up the stairs, nearly tripping several times. I called for an ambulance, rushing to the parking lot. They arrived soon, taking Phoenix from me. In the light of the sun, he looked worse than down in the basement of the hotel. His skin was pale, contrasted by the giant bruises and deep cuts on him. I waited until they drove away to make it to my room again. Dakota was up, looking worried.

"Dad what happened?" He asked, his voice shaking some.

"A lot son." I said, the image of Phoenix not leaving my brain.

"Dad you should wash up. You're covered in blood..." I looked down at myself as he spoke. He was right. I started to strip off the ruined clothing. There would be no way I was ever wearing that suit again, even if I got the stains out. Dakota helped me take the clothes off and lead me to the bathroom. I felt numb for some reason, underlined with guilt. Something told me that if I didn't go see Phoenix later, I would regret it. In the mean time Dakota helped me bathe, as embarrassing at that was.

"Want to talk about it, dad?" He asked, rubbing the shampoo into my hair. I nodded. Someone beside me had to know, and knowing Dakota he wouldn't leave it alone until I told him.

"I found an old friend of mine in the basement of this building. He looked terrible and tortured. I don't think he even recognized me." I said, lowering my head some. Dakota finished with my hair and rubbed my shoulders.

"It's alright dad. You did everything you could. Remember you're only one man. We can go see him if want." Dakota said, massaging my shoulders. I nodded. I had to see him again.

"Alright we'll go after your bath. Give me your arm." as he requested I raised my arm. He washed it clean, as well as the rest of me. I wondered how he could be so comfortable washing his father, of blood no less. I guess it was just okay with him, to take care of me as much as I take care of him. He helped me out of the tub and dried me off.

"Alright dad. You get some clothes together and we'll go. I'll call Mr. Gumshoe." He said tying the towel around my waist. I did as he told me and put on a nice blue dress shirt and, after a brief skirmish with Dakota, a pair of dark jeans. Dakota had somehow gotten a hold of some flowers and shoved them into my hands. We waited until Gumshoe arrived and filed into his car. My stomach was a jumble of nerves for some unbeknownst reason.

We arrived at the hospital and I nearly wanted to turn back. News reporters swarmed the entrance of the building. Dakota asked Gumshoe if he had any newspaper. I opened my mouth to ask why when he shoved it in my face. He explained that I can cover my face with it and walk in with out being questioned.

"What about you?" I asked. He shrugged.

"I was planning on staying in the car." Dakota said, almost sheepishly. I passed Gumshoe a twenty and asked if he could take Dakota to get ice cream. He smiled happily and nodded. I stepped out of the car...and all hell broke loose. Despite my best efforts to avoid the reporters with the newspaper and my coat, they still found me. I ignored their questions for the most part, but some of them broke through my consciousness. The ones about what happened to Wright and such, those struck a nerve for an unknown reason to me.

I finally broke through the crowd and stepped into the hospital. There seemed to be no one there, only a few people loitering about. I felt a hand on my back and tensed, ready to turn around and deck who ever touched me. Only when I heard the voice of my son did I calm down.

"Good job dad. It was hard getting through those reporters." Dakota said, running around to my front. I sighed and held the stems in my hand tighter.

"Dakota I thought you were staying in the car and going with Gumshoe to get ice cream." I said softly, looking down to him. He grinned sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head. As he did that his dark hair bounced with his hand movements. It was sort of distracting. It made my mind wander to Wright and what he would like with-out those spikes of his. Dakota's hair was about in the middle of out hair colors. His eyes too.

"Dad? Are you okay? Your face got all red all of a sudden." Dakota said snapping my attention back to reality. I turned my face away and instinctively gripped my arm at the elbow.

"I'm fine Dakota. You didn't answer me." I said after giving myself time to recoup. He raised an eyebrow, doubtful of me for a second.

"I did too. You just didn't hear me." He said, putting his fists on his hips. I sighed, sometimes he was too much like his mother.

"Well tell me again, I'm listening." I said, relaxing my stance. He smiled at me.

"I followed you to make sure that you weren't overrun with those vultures." He said, seeming proud of myself. I wouldn't call them vultures, they weren't eating me alive out there. But I would hate to put a damper on Dakota's fun. He smiled a bit at me, reminding me a bit of Wright. I groaned to myself, why couldn't I get him out of my head? I needed to see him, that's why. I needed to make sure he was okay, then I could move on. Or that's what I was telling myself.

"Let's go dad, you look anxious." Dakota said, pulling me over to reception. I stumbled over myself a bit. He stopped in front of the desk, a older blonde woman sitting behind it. I cleared my throat to get her attention. She looked up, obviously upset I interrupted her magazine. When she saw me, on the other hand, her eyes widened.

"Prosecutor Edgeworth. What brings you here, sir?" She asked, trying to look more pleasant.

"I'm here to visit Phoenix Wright. What room would I find him in?" I replied, straightening my shoulders. She told me the room number and Dakota dragged me away before I could thank her. Dakota lead me toward the stairs but stopped, looking between them and the elevator.

"You don't want me to get on the thing do you?" I asked behind him. He had a worried look on his face, like he would insult me if he spoke what was on his mind. I urged him to continue, and after taking a breath he did.

"It would be much quicker than taking the stairs and I know you really want to see Mr. Wright. Though I know how afraid of the elevator you are dad." Dakota said, putting a hand to his chin. He tapped his fingers against his lips, weighing his options.

"I'll take the elevator." I said, clenching my jaw to even get the words out. I had a feeling this would end badly, but Dakota was here.

"Are you sure dad? You really don't have to. I don't mind walking." He said. He knew this wouldn't end well either. I just nodded and tugged him toward the elevator. He pressed the button, looking me over to see if I would really go through with it. I steadied myself as best I could. The door opened and revealed the small compartment. I swallowed hard and walked inside, holding on tightly to Dakota's hand. He pressed the floor we were going to. Now I knew why he asked if I wanted to take the stairs. Wright's room was the second to top floor. The doors closed and I took a deep breath. On the ride up, he kept whispering to me that it was okay.

I nearly bolted from the thing when the doors opened, feeling my being shaking. Dakota was right there beside me, rubbing my back as I hunched over. He wiped my face telling me that it's bad to look like I had just seen a ghost when visiting an old friend. He lead me to the room, seeing as how I was still weak in the knees. He opened the door and lead me inside...