welcome back
The first thing Apollo feels is numbness.
A soon as he's able to clear his throat enough to make sound he groans, low and labored. Great. Just great. This again. Apollo just loves not being able to feel anything. What a joy.
Although, even if Apollo is complaining, he has to admit that the general unfeeling-ness of it isn't as bad as before. The sensation feels less like floating and more like a disconnect, like the body Apollo's in isn't really his. He still feels weightless, but now it's more like he never had a weight at all.
Comforting.
Everything is weirdly fuzzy and desensitized. Apollo can't feel much more than the heat of sunlight on his face and the touch of unfamiliar crisp sheets under his fingertips.
Wait.
That only begs the question.
Where the hell is Apollo?
Apollo tries listening, and he can hear voices in the distance, muffled and intermingling. That means that people are all around, which means that Apollo is... well he can feel sheets, which means that he's in a bed, which must mean he's at home, but then why are there people everywhere?
Apollo tries to think back. Let's see... he was at work yesterday, it was raining, he took the subway home... wait, what happened then? There's a hole in his memory, something empty then, but... Apollo felt numb last night, he's sure of it, that's why it feels so familiar now.
That's it. Apollo has to know what's going on.
It takes some strain, but Apollo finally manages to open his eyes. It really isn't easy. His eyelids are drooping and heavy, like they're being weighed down, and when he does open them- ah, that's bright.
There's a blinding white light on Apollo's face, like a sheet of blank paper was set over a strobe light, and he's cringing. Apollo makes a noise in protest, trying to lift his hand to block the light, but he can't. It takes too much strength to just try and move his arm, and when he does he can feel something there, like there's something blocking him from moving comfortably.
"Apollo!" There's a flash of blue and a whoosh and someone is next to him in what feels like less than an instant.
Apollo blinks, trying to take it all in. It takes a second to place the face looming over him.
That's... Trucy? What is she doing here in... wherever this is?
Apollo tries to say something, but his mouth is dry. It feels like all of the moisture has been sucked out of it, like there's a black hole in his mouth.
When Apollo finally does manage to create some slurred sounds, his mouth feels as groggy and slow as everything else. "'Ey, Truce."
"Daddy! He's awake!" Trucy calls, and Apollo scans the room- because seriously, where the hell is he?
Oh. This is a hospital. Everything around Apollo is uniformly white and clean, and he's lying in a hospital bed. The thing on his arm is an IV, hooked up to a machine directly to his left that Apollo can hear beeping softly if he listens closely. If Apollo lies really far back, the machine blocks the bright light for him, which is coming from a window to Apollo's left.
"Don't yell, Trucy, and give him some space." There's a grating sound as another chair drags towards Apollo, and Apollo tilts his head to see- oh hey, it's Mr. Wright.
"Hi." Apollo's voice is soft and hoarse, and it feels a little uncomfortable to be talking with how his tongue is rubbing against the roof of his mouth. He has to talk to Mr. Wright, though. It's a grave understatement to say that there are some pressing issues with waking up in a hospital bed. "So... why am I in the hospital?"
"You got shot!" Trucy yelps instantly, hands balled into fists. Looks like she's gonna ignore the no yelling rule. "It was so cool! Dad and Daddy and me were watching Steel Samurai 8 because Dad bet Daddy that he'd cry twice, and he'd already cried once, but then the phone started ringing and they told me to pick it up, and it was Mr. Gumshoe! And then I put it on speaker and he told me and my dads to meet him at the hospital 'cause you were in trouble and Klavier told Daddy to make your medical decisions for you 'cause you were unconscious! We drove there super quick and there was an ambulance and flashing lights everywhere and everyone was yelling and it was way past my bedtime but no one cared!"
Apollo blinks, trying to take in the barrage of words. Jeez, she didn't stop once to take a breath through all that. Impressive.
"Wait..." Apollo tries to press his finger to his forehead, but his arm isn't cooperating. Damn it, this is really awkward. "...I got shot?"
That's hard to process. Getting shot feels like that thing that happens in the movies or in the news, not like something that can happen to twenty-something brunette lawyer Apollo Justice. Come on, he's just an ordinary guy! Just how the hell would Apollo even get shot? He's a lawyer! He doesn't do anything exciting or dangerous, y'know.
"You were shot in the foot," Mr. Wright clarifies. Judging by the faint stubble on his chin and the wrinkles under his eyes, he had just as exciting a night as Trucy- except he just looks really tired, not energized by it like Trucy is.
"The doctor says that you were really lucky!" Trucy adds. "She said that you, uh,"
Trucy stops dead in her tracks, glancing at Mr. Wright for help.
"The bullet missed bones and critical cartilage." Mr. Wright says, and it there's a faint air of recitation to it. Yeah, Mr. Wright's no ballistic forensics expert- not unless there's even more he hasn't told Apollo. Let's just agree that the doctor probably told him that.
"That's good." Trucy attempts to translate. Mr. Wright just chuckles, leaning over and pointing to Apollo's foot.
"It exited the bottom of your foot here," Mr. Wright explains. "Which is good, because it missed everything important. The bad news is, that means that your foot could bleed freely, and between blood loss and lack of oxygen, you went into shock pretty quickly."
Oh, shock. That explains why Apollo remembers feeling numb earlier. "How... bad is it?"
"Well, you're definitely going to be here in the hospital for awhile," Mr. Wright sighs. "Your ears are also a bit damaged, and your neck is bruised and swollen."
Okay. Apollo's ears were probably hurt by the gunshots (those things are loud), but his neck? How would that-
There's a flash in Apollo's mind's eye, and then there's the sudden image of a fuchsia clad arm tightening around Apollo's neck. He remembers lungs burning for air and a crushed throat, clear as day. Apollo's hand twitches, as though it's remembering his strained arms, trying in vain to yank the arm of his captor away as his heart only pounds more and more.
Oh... oh right, Kristoph was holding Apollo back, choking him. Then there was Klavier standing just opposite, reaching out for Apollo with panic written clearly on his face, and Ema... Ema was coming from behind, firing at Kristoph.
This is good. Apollo can recall more and more of last night when he thinks about it.
Wait... three guns, two gunshots, ambulances, and police? That sounds for a recipe for disaster, now that Apollo thinks about it. They can't have all made it out with only Apollo'sfoot injured.
Oh. None of the people who were there last night are in this room now, which means-
Oh fuck.
"Everyone's... alive, right?" Apollo asks unsteadily. He really, really hopes that they're ok. He can't stand the thought of someone dying for him. Not like that.
"Yes, everyone who was there is currently alive." Mr. Wright answers, and Apollo's only relieved for a second before he frowns.
Wait a second. The wording... it could just be Wright crazy, but currently alive? That's not too optimistic. Is someone...?
"What do you-" Apollo begins, but he's interrupted by a tinny rendition of the Steel Samurai theme blaring from Mr. Wright's pocket. Mr. Wright holds up a finger to stop Apollo and shifts, digging in his pocket. It takes a few seconds for him to produce his phone and hold it up to his ear, and he answers immediately. "Hey."
Apollo makes a face. Classic Mr. Wright. Saved by the bell. Apollo knows Mr. Wright is keeping something from him, even if he can't imagine why. It's probably because of that classic bullshit you tell someone in the hospital, that you don't want to trouble them and get their heart rate up or whatever. Apollo's not delicate! He needs to know what happened after he blacked out, he has to know what happened to-
Apollo starts.
Wait.
Where's Klavier?
He should be here, right? Apollo'd think the very first person he'd see after waking up with a potentially deadly injury would be his boyfriend. It's in the visitation rights and all that, plus Klavier was right there through all of last night- hell, he's the last thing Apollo can remember hearing before going out cold.
Yeah, this is definitely fishy. Klavier's almost become a staple in Apollo's life, so much so that waking up without him in the immediate vicinity would be troubling even if theyweren't in a gunfight last night.
Apollo clenches his jaw. Just where the hell is Klavier now?!
"Yeah?" Mr. Wright asks the phone with a smirk. "I dunno, I might just leave you out there-"
There's a muffled noise from the phone, one that's obviously someone getting angry. Mr. Wright only laughs. "I was joking, I was joking! Yeah, I'll be out there in a second. Hang on."
He puts a hand over the phone. "Sorry Apollo, Trucy, I'll be right back. I need to let Miles back into the wing. Some weird security protocol. ICU stuff and all."
"Bye!" Trucy waves to him, leaning forwards in her chair. Apollo also attempts a wave, but the most he can accomplish is wiggling his fingers. This is only getting more frustrating as time goes on.
The door closes behind Mr. Wright with a click, and for all of Trucy's loud excitability earlier, it's like there's a blanket thrown over the room. It's dead silent the instant the door is completely closed, like a switch controlling the conversation has been flipped onto off.
Well, this is kind of awkward.
Apollo glances around, trying to fill the stagnant time. Uh... maybe he should check out his immediate surroundings or something. Get his bearings on the situation.
Let's see here... there's a TV across from Apollo on a stand, kind of outdated, but it looks functional enough. Then there's a bedside table next to him, with a vase full of flowers that Apollo can't name (or tell apart, for that matter), but... they look pretty? There's also a set of table and chairs to his right, next to the door.
Apollo nods a little. Nice. Not like he can get out of the bed or anything, but nice.
Apollo turns his head to look back to the other side of the room, glancing past Trucy, and- wait is she even blinking?!
Apollo stops dead in his tracks, caught off guard. Trucy is staring straight at Apollo, eyes wide like she's scanning him or something. Her eyes search his face with the intensity of someone on a mission. It's almost like she's sketching him in her head, mentally running over every detail and line of Apollo there is and committing it to memory.
Apollo suppresses a shiver. It's kind of off-putting, actually.
"Er... Trucy?" Apollo asks, and she jumps at the sound, as though her wandering mind has just been shot down to Earth.
"What? Oh." Trucy's voice is a little loud, uncomfortably so, and she immediately looks down into her lap. She seems embarrassed, like Apollo's caught her doing something she wasn't supposed to. "Sorry."
Well, it's not illegal to stare at Apollo.
"No, it's fine, just-" Fuck, now Apollo's stumbling. Change the subject. "Er... what were you thinking about?"
"Huh? O-oh." Trucy blushes, looking even more flustered now. "It's nothing."
"I mean, you don't have to tell me," Apollo begins, and Trucy shakes her head. "No, no, it's fine, I-"
"I guess..." She slows down, and there's a little sigh in her voice. "I was thinking... that it's nice to see you awake again. I..."
Trucy takes a deep breath and shifts, like the new air is coursing through her whole body. "I wasn't really sure if I ever would."
Oh.
Well, Apollo wasn't expecting that from a teenager, especially one as carefree as Trucy Wright.
Was.. was she really that worried?
Too late now. Her eyes are closed now, and it's like her mouth is moving of its own accord. The floodgates have opened.
"It was really scary, last night." She says quickly, words rushing out. "I saw them bringing you into the hospital. You weren't moving, you were just lying there, and your lips were blue, and there were bruises all over your neck. There was blood everywhere, all over you, and you looked-"
Trucy stops there, voice cracking. Apollo can see her trembling, she's shaking so badly. She can't make herself continue.
Apollo can feel the hairs on the back of his neck raising. It's downright unnerving to hear about himself like this, comatose and beaten. The scariest part is that he can't remember any of it at all- so he was just as gone as Trucy is describing. For all it's worth, Apollo might as well have been dead. This is... fuck, this is the state that Apollo hears about mostbodies being found in.
From Trucy's description, last night Apollo was a murder victim straight out of their cases.
Trucy's voice drops to a near whisper. It's like the usual spark has been drawn out of it and crushed, like her very voice has become exhausted and worn. "Daddy doesn't know, but I heard him and the doctors talking about you."
Her voice is almost unintelligible now, soft mumbles that tell Apollo that she doesn't want to think about what she's saying. "They said... they said that you could die."
It's silent then, except for a stray beep of the heart monitor.
Well, fuck.
Apollo swallows. That's... he wants to help, he wants so badly to put Trucy's fears to rest, but it's all too damn real. He can't very well tell her that he's immortal, or that this will never happen again, because he can't lie to her. He can't tell Trucy Wright that this is the last time they'll meet like this, he can't make a promise that he can't keep.
Apollo has no idea what to do.
Bluffing time.
Apollo searches his mind. Come on, he has to have something...
Oh right! Last night! He can remember people discussing something like this just before he fell unconscious. He can quote that.
Apollo shakes his head. "That's true only in technicality. I'm right here, Truce. I'm fine."
"I know." Trucy says to the floor, still looking down. "I'm sorry."
Apollo opens his mouth to say no, it's okay, I'd be worried just the same if it were you, but Trucy shakes her head. Her hands tighten around her arms, like she's hugging herself. "I overreact when it comes to this kind of thing, I know. I just... I'm scared, Polly. I don't want any of you to end up like my real mom, or my real dad, because I care a lot about you, and my new dads, and Klavier, and-"
There are tears brimming in her eyes.
Apollo's overcome with the sudden urge to take Trucy's hand. He gives a glare to his unmoving hand, trying to use sheer willpower (or maybe the force) to move it. Come on! He needs to reach for her hand, he needs to give her the physical confirmation that he's here, he's alive and fine.
Through some miracle, his hand shifts, even if it is nearly unnoticeable, and Trucy somehow gets the message. She takes it, holding tight like she never wants to let go. Apollo gives her hand a gentle squeeze.
"Trucy." Apollo says slowly, trying to keep his voice steady, but gentle. "Don't be scared, ok? I don't plan on leaving anytime soon. Trust me, I'll be around for awhile, and so will your dads and Klavier. Someone's gotta strike fear into the hearts of criminals, right?"
Bad move, bad move. Trucy looks like she might cry again. She's staring holes into the floor, eyes wide and vulnerable. "Yeah, only that's dangerous, isn't it?"
Dead silence again. Apollo's heart monitor is getting a little louder as he thinks, trying for a solution. Come on, he can do this!
"Trucy?" Apollo asks quietly. He waits until she looks up, until her eyes meet his.
Yeah, he's going to have to be honest now.
Here goes nothing.
"You're not a kid," Apollo says carefully, "and I'm not going to lie to you. Yeah. It's dangerous. Yeah, I got hurt, and yeah, it could happen again. But you know what?"
He waits for her to respond, waits until she shakes her head, anticipating the end of the phrase.
Apollo lets a modest smile onto his face. It's small, but sincere. "Someone very wise once told me that no matter what, you've just gotta smile. It makes you feel better."
Trucy sniggers, taking a breath to say something, but Apollo doesn't let her. He shakes his head, continuing. "You know what? It's true. You've got to do it like you mean it."
Trucy still looks like she doesn't believe him, but she follows his instructions anyways. It'll be over quicker that way, right?
She closes her eyes, and her mouth twitches. Think happy thoughts, Trucy. Steel Samurai last night. Making Apollo feel better two days ago. Going to Klavier's concert. Performing in a magic show for everyone in the family, watching their faces light up with every passing trick.
"See?" Apollo asks quietly, and Trucy knows that she's smiling again.
"Thank you," She says in a hushed voice, and Apollo squeezes her hand again. Anything for Trucy. Anything to help her realize that it's alright to be sad, or worried, but in the end, you can't do it forever.
Sometimes, you have to let it go and smile.
"We're back!"
The door swings open to Mr. Wright's cheer, and Apollo and Trucy both look over to see Mr. Edgeworth and a large, brown shopping bag walk into the room.
Apollo squints. Oh wait, it's Mr. Wright under that thing.
Mr. Wright makes his way over to the table, dumping the shopping bag down on top of it. He gives Apollo a little wave before turning back around and immediately starting to sift through it, as though there's something that he desperately needs to find.
Apollo can't get over Mr. Edgeworth, though. He just looks plain weird in casual clothes. Miles Edgeworth really wasn't meant to wear a polo and jeans, they look like they've been badly photoshopped onto him somehow.
Despite how weird he looks, he seems to be in a friendly enough mood. He also gives Apollo a little wave.
"Good morning, Apollo." Mr. Edgeworth says with a small smile. "Feeling better?"
"Yeah," Apollo says, and he's about to elaborate before he's interrupted by Mr. Wright making a triumphant noise.
Mr. Wright stands up straight again, holding up a cup of coffee like it's the holy grail. "Ah, coffee. Thank you, Miles."
Mr. Edgeworth smiles in his direction. "You're welcome. I also brought a change of clothes for each of you, since you've been in those since yesterday."
That hits Apollo hard.
Oh.
They were all here since last night.
That's... weird.
It feels kind of weird that anyone would stay overnight in the hospital with Apollo- for Apollo. This level of dedication is the kind of thing that Apollo's heard about happening to other people, but... it's just never happened to him. There wasn't really anyone who cared enough to stay by his side for that long- not that Apollo is bitter! It's a fact of life, he's an orphan with no family. There's no one there for him, it's just the way it is, the way it always was.
And yet...
Apollo looks over at the Wrights. You know, for all of his griping about how weird they are... Mr. Wright came in the middle of the night to make decisions that probably saved Apollo's life, Trucy was worried out of her mind and stayed all night, and Mr. Edgeworth... Apollo doesn't even know Mr. Edgeworth that well, and he was there too, there through all of it!
Apollo stares down at the sheets. This is just all so alien to him. It's probably out of place to be getting all sentimental now, but... he's grateful for the Wrights. All of them.
He's grateful that they're here for him.
"Yes!" Trucy gasps. She'd crossed over to the bag while Apollo was thinking, and now she's just finished digging through it. She holds up a small rectangle. "Steel Samurai 8! We can finally finish it!"
"Yes." Mr. Edgeworth's smile is more of a smirk now. "I'm still holding your father to his bet. One more tear and he's done for!"
"H-hold it!" Mr. Wright yells, pointing a finger. "Those weren't tears the first time! They were, uh..."
He glances around the room, like he'll see something that will save him. "Uh... eye... sweat?"
Mr. Edgeworth rolls his eyes. "Bluffing won't save you now, Wright. One more eye sweat and you're washing the dishes for a week!"
Mr. Wright sticks out his tongue, making a face at Mr. Edgeworth, who immediately makes a face back. Apollo snickers. Believe it or not, Mr. Wright and Mr. Edgeworth are a surprisingly good couple. They both know each other like the back of their own hand, like two halves of a whole working together. No wonder they were- are- such a formidable team in court.
Apollo blinks. That-
Right. That reminds him...
"Mr. Wright?" Apollo asks. Mr. Wright must have heard the apprehensive tone in his voice, the way Apollo's question is small and unsteady, because he immediately looks concerned.
"Yes, Apollo?" He sets down the coffee, the space between his eyes creasing. "What is it?"
"Uh, I was just wondering," Shit. Is this even a good time? Apollo mingles his bedsheets, tugging the blanket.
Too late now. He's already begun asking anyways. He has to know. "Where's Klavier?"
Mr. Wright's eyes widen, and he exchanges a look with Mr. Edgeworth. He's sputtering a little. "Ah, Apollo, I-"
He starts answering while he's facing away, like he's messaging Mr. Edgeworth for help. Something twists in Apollo's gut. He's hit on something, alright.
Time to press. "Mr. Wright?"
Mr. Wright looks back to Apollo, although he's not making eye contact. His eyes are flicking around the room nervously. Mr. Edgeworth and Trucy are dead silent all of a sudden-uncharacteristically so.
Mr. Wright rubs the back of his neck. "Uh, maybe we should talk about this later-"
"Mr. Wright." Apollo sits up straight. Something is wrong, and he has to know what. "Where. Is. Klavier?"
Mr. Wright won't meet Apollo's eyes. He looks like he's cornered, smiling nervously. "Not... here?"
"Mr. Wright!" Apollo clenches his fists, and his voice rises.
"I-" Mr. Wright's shoulders sink, and he looks down, sighing. "We're sorry, Apollo, okay?"
Apollo's stomach sinks. That's not exactly a beginning that inspires confidence. Just what the hell is going on here?
"We told him it wasn't necessary, but you know how he is, he insisted!" Mr. Wright suddenly seems frustrated at something, gesturing wildly.
Apollo can't believe what he's hearing. W-what did Klavier insist on?! Fuck, if Apollo, basically the only person he really listens to was out- oh fuck, the only other person he listens to is Kristoph, this is getting bad fast-
Mr. Wright takes a deep breath, staring down at the floor. "He's turned himself in as Kristoph's accomplice. Klavier's been arrested, Apollo."
did u think this was over