#justworth

So Apollo was nearing his wits end by this time, about a week before the trial date. Phoenix was well into his case, already on day three of trial, and was currently out with Pearls, investigating. Athena was barred up in her office, the only sound to be heard was the whirring and cheerful beeps of Widget and an occasional scream of frustration from Athena herself. In fact, the only reason Apollo was sure she was still alive was because she had occasionally slipped out to scrounge for food. This meant that no one was available for him to discuss his stress with. The gym he went to was closed this late at night, and being as small as he was in a city like this, he didn’t feel comfortable going for jogs alone in the dark.

It had been a while since he’d gone to a club.

Almost giddy with excitement at the idea of going dancing again, Apollo said goodnight to Athena who barely registered consciousness when he poked his head into her office, and headed back to his apartment. Apollo had a phase back in college where he, Clay, and a few friends would go out to a club or something and get older men to buy them alcohol and then dance until they got kicked out. There had been times when Apollo would leave the club as it closed, go back to his dorm to shower, and go straight to class. He didn’t remember those mornings fondly, but the dancing was always fun.

He got all dressed up in one of his too-tight-too-skimpy outfits which he usually only needed these days when he messed something up and he needed something to wear while he broke it to Phoenix. They had been dating for a little over a year now, and somehow in those 14 months, he had never lost an argument with his boyfriend. But it wasn’t really a surprise, he thought slyly to himself as he caught a glimpse of his ass in the mirror.

Apollo hadn’t been to a club in a while, so he really didn’t know any of the new ones. Reverting back to memory, he directed the cab driver to one of the clubs that he had always gone to with Clay and Athena when Athena finally got a legal ID.

The wait wasn’t long, but it would have been longer had the bouncer not recognized him in the back of the line and sent him in with a smile. Apollo had always made an impression wherever he went. When he slipped in through the big iron door, he was suddenly hit with a wave of nostalgia. It was hot and dark and gross, but there was something almost appealing about the blatant grunge of it all. He slipped through people to try and find a spot on the open floor when something caught his eye at the bar.

It’s name was Miles Edgeworth and he did not look like he belonged. He was dressed the way he always was, to the nines, with a cravat and all. Apollo was a nice guy, but he did have a bad habit for teasing. Before he realized what he was doing, he had taken a seat at the bar beside Mr. Edgeworth and perched his chin on his folded hands. Edgeworth didn’t look at him, not for the entire thirty seconds Apollo stared. Finally, he decided that Edgeworth probably didn’t want to talk to him, which prompted him to chirp, “Hi, Mr. Edgeworth!” and seemingly startle the man out of a daze.

“Justice.” It sounded like a statement, however, Edgeworth didn’t look sure of himself He looked through bleary eyes at the defense attorney, whose catlike grin grew exponentially.

“Oh my God, you’re smashed,” Apollo breathed, a hand reaching his grinning mouth in shock and delight. This was awesome. The mighty Miles Edgeworth, drunk out of his mind at a gay club. And a shitty gay club, too. Apollo knew it was shitty because he himself was able to get in. “How many have you had, Mr. Edgeworth?”

Miles Edgeworth frowned. He turned, looking at the single martini glass in front of him. Without saying anything else, he pointed to the glass. Apollo chuckled, “Okay, you’re drinking martinis, cool. How many have you had, sir?”

Edgeworth shook his head, pointing back to the glass, which still had a few sips left. “That one.”

Apollo frowned. He didn’t know Edgeworth really any better than having seen him a handful of times at the court house. So, obviously, Apollo didn’t know how lightweight Mr. Edgeworth was, but most of a martini should not knock a grown man off his feet like this one apparently had. Apollo wasn’t really good at asking before he did things, so without saying anything, he reached over at the glass and swirled it beneath his nose. It didn’t even smell particularly strong, so he took a quick sip – and immediately spit it back into the glass. Not very pretty or graceful, but he realized suddenly that Edgeworth wasn’t going to notice.

Miles Edgeworth had been roofie’d.

It was something he had seen online, and he’d never been 100% sure of its legitimacy until now, but roofies were supposed to taste bitter in drinks. Apollo’s face was hot, and his heart rushed into his ears immediately as he looked back up at a very puzzled, very vulnerable Miles Edgeworth, looking like he was about to pass out at any second. Apollo put the glass down at once, all of his heroic nature filling him at once.

“Okay, I’m gonna take you home, alright Mr. Edgeworth? Can you stand up?” Apollo’s voice was weak and barely registered above the music around them. Apollo had seen some things in his days of being a defense attorney, murder mostly. But rape? It felt like his body was jelly. Who would do that to another human being?

Mr. Edgeworth was clearly unsteady, but he was able to get off of the barstool at least. Apollo wrapped an arm around the larger man’s waist and pulled one of Edgeworth’s arms over his shoulders and lead him towards the exit. Apollo was working on auto pilot, the only thing that mattered was getting Mr. Edgeworth out of the club which Apollo would now no longer associate with partying with Athena and Clay. He had only been inside ten minutes at the most, and the air was already making him sick and claustrophobic.

The cool late autumn air was refreshing for Apollo who had felt as though the walls were closing in on him in the club. In fact, even Mr. Edgeworth even seemed to have a better handle on his own balance and had leaned off of Apollo for the most part. If he was lucky, maybe he could get Mr. Edgeworth to tell him his address so he could at least tell a cab driver where to take him. After propping Mr. Edgeworth up against a wall a few buildings down the block from the club and being completely sure he was stable, Apollo let him go and reached for his cell phone – which he had forgotten. It was a momentary panic, had he been pick pocketed? God damn, he had just gotten an iPhone! Granted it wasn’t the newest model and he’d gotten it free with a cell phone contract that he could scarcely afford, it was kind of his prized possession at that time and he was pissed off. But then, the image of putting the phone down on his bedside table and not picking it up again as he headed out swam into his head. He relaxed, but not completely, because while his phone was safe at home, he now had no way to call a cab.

“Mr. Edgeworth,” Apollo turned to the other man, a very solemn look on his face, wanting to get the man’s drifting attention, “Do you have a cell phone?” He didn’t know the Chief Prosecutor well enough to go digging through his pockets for it, and something neither of them needed was a photo by some tabloid of Apollo’s hand in Edgeworth’s pants. The legal world couldn’t handle another scandal, and Apollo did not have the time for damage control of that caliber. Edgeworth studied Apollo’s face for a second before shrugging, which made Apollo groan. “Okay, thanks for your help. Can you check your pockets for me, please?” It was getting close to 1:30am by Apollo’s watch, and this was becoming increasingly not fun.

After a bit more coaxing, Apollo managed to get Edgeworth to look through his pockets. What Apollo was left with to solve this puzzle, was Miles Edgeworth’s uncharged cell phone, his wallet with a million credit cards but no cash, and his car keys. After staring at the items for a few minutes, Apollo made a mental note to later text Luke and the Professor and see how they were doing.

A cell phone, if charged, would solve this. A wallet with cash would also solve this. Apollo having a license would also make this much easier. However, Apollo had none of these things and Edgeworth was starting to slump against the concrete wall. Apollo made a soft sound of distress before finally handing the wallet and cell phone back to Edgeworth. “Okay, sir. I’m gonna drive you home. Is that okay?” Edgeworth didn’t answer. “Is that okay that I drive your car?” Still no response. He took that as a yes.

When Apollo had dragged the mostly unconscious Edgeworth to the obnoxious out of place red sports car in the lot which could only be Miles Edgeworth’s, he pressed the button to unlock it and watched the doors raise instead of open normally. “Swaaaaaanky, you really are as rich as Nick says you are,” Apollo muttered, loading Edgeworth in the passenger seat, buckled him in, and closed his door for him.

Apollo was not a good driver in the best of circumstances. But certainly, he would not be at 1:30am, in the pitch dark, in a car that cost more than his entire college education. Apollo had driving anxiety to begin with, which was the main reason why he didn’t have a license, but he was out of options. He circled the car to the driver’s side and took a deep breath, got in, and shut his door.

He got buckled up and turned to look at Edgeworth who had slumped completely, totally unconscious. That sucked, because now he had no idea where Edgeworth lived. And how was he going to get home after dropping Edgeworth and his car off? He hadn’t thought this through at all. The best option, he decided, was to take Edgeworth back to Apollo’s own apartment.

After a needlessly nerve wracking drive where there was, thankfully, no other cars on the road, and a struggle in getting Edgeworth up his stairs to his apartment, Apollo was exhausted. He sat on his coffee table, watching the older man, completely knocked out on his couch. It was only now that Apollo really came to terms with that evening. Miles Edgeworth, chief prosecutor and his boyfriend’s friend, had been drugged and someone in that club was preying on him. Did whomever it was watch Apollo come to his aide? The idea made him boil. No one had opposed him as he took Edgeworth from the club, but someone had definitely drugged him. What kind of a person would drug someone and then just leave him? Maybe he was going to come back when the drugs had taken hold and Edgeworth was no longer able to defend himself? Apollo took a deep breath, suddenly glad he had gone out that night.

The next thing Apollo knew, he was stirring awake. A yellow light streamed in through his living room window, it was still early. He had fallen asleep on top of the coffee table, embarrassing. But what had woken him, was the sound of someone unlocking his front door. He rolled onto his back, craning his neck and looking with his one open eye at whatever it was, seeing Miles Edgeworth in the same clothes he had worn the night before, trying and failing to open the lock on the door. “You have to turn it horizontally,” Apollo finally spoke up, but the sound of his voice seemed to affect Edgeworth physically. The other man leapt into the air, apparently not expecting for Apollo to be awake.

“Ah. So you do.” Edgeworth responded as he tried it and budged the door open finally. But sneaking out was no longer an option now that Apollo was awake, so after a moment of likely contemplating whether or not to bolt, Edgeworth closed the door. “Well… this is embarrassing. I, ah. I certainly never do this, you see. Being with men who are… committed…”

Apollo frowned, sitting up now, feeling the stiffness in his shoulders and back from sleeping on the coffee table for only about 5 hours, according to the clock above the stove in the kitchenette on the other side of the room, which blinked ‘7:15’. “What are you talking about?”

“We… did we not…?” Edgeworth was confused now.

“Not…? Oh, gross!” Apollo was finally wide awake, realizing what Edgeworth was talking about. “No, oh, no. Like, I don’t fuck around when I’m in a relationship. Do I seem like the kind of guy who cheats?” He knew Edgeworth hadn’t meant it like that, but Apollo had the bad habit of getting offended for no reason.

“No, I didn’t…” Edgeworth pinched the bridge of his nose, resting a shoulder against the now closed door. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you. I simply… don’t know why I’m here.”

“We could have just been hanging out, you know. Or am I not cool enough for you to believe we were hanging out?” Apollo cocked an eyebrow, seeing the dismay on Edgeworth’s face as he realized Apollo was trying to fight with him, before Apollo chose to end the confrontation there. “Never mind. I found you at the bar at a dance club last night. Someone, uh. Slipped something in your drink. You were in bad shape.” The horror etched itself immediately on Edgeworth’s face. “You were unconscious when I got you in the car and since I didn’t know where you live, I just brought you here. I figured it was better than wherever who drugged you was planning on taking you…”

“You… protected me?” Was the older man’s reply. Apollo didn’t look up, he just shrugged. “You barely know me.”

“I would have done the same for anyone else.” Apollo muttered. It suddenly occurred to him that he was still wearing one of his less modest outfits and despite his exhaustion, somehow managed to find it in himself to be embarrassed. “Uh, you have the door figured out, right? I’m going to take a shower.” He muttered, with a great effort, pulling himself off the coffee table which he was practically fused to at this point, and making his way to the little hallway where his bedroom and the bathroom was.

“Hang on, uh.” Edgeworth called out to him, and Apollo stopped. “… Thanks, Justice. I… don’t know where I would be without you, but… thanks for not leaving me. I… don’t know many defense attorneys who would do what you did. Especially for me.”

Apollo turned back to look at him, and leaned against the corner that turned into the hall. “It’s not about me being a defense attorney. Or even about me being in law at all, you’re a human being. I wouldn’t leave you stranded like that.”

“I’m glad you think that way.” Edgeworth was smiling. It was something that Apollo wasn’t sure he had ever seen before. “Like I said, I don’t know many defense attorneys who think that way. Hell, I don’t know many people who think that way. I think I know what Wright sees in you.”

Apollo felt his chest swell with pride. Was one of Nick’s oldest friends accepting him finally? It had been a big shock when most people found out Phoenix was dating a man, and he didn’t know how a lot of people thought about it, but he didn’t dare assume the best at risk of being disappointed. “You do?”

“Yeah. And I don’t think I’m too cool to hang out with you.” Edgeworth added, his voice lowering a bit. The same sly little grin appeared on Apollo’s face as he realized Edgeworth was embarrassed.

“So you wanna hang out with me, then?” Apollo teased, crossing his arms over his barely covered chest.

Edgeworth said nothing for a moment before shrugging. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

Apollo was taken aback by this, but at risk of making this moment weird, he replied back casually, “Cool. I’ll get your number from Nick, I’ll text you some time.” Nodding, seeming a bit uncertain by the whole thing, Edgeworth leaned off the door and reached for the knob again. “Cause, y’know, we go to the same clubs and stuff…” Apollo added, a bit too loudly, which made Edgeworth cringe.

“Let’s just… pretend this whole thing didn’t happen, yeah?” Edgeworth gave him a look, half way between an attempt to intimidate and also a plea. Apollo smiled and created a zipper over his mouth, locking it and tossed away the key. Edgeworth’s rare little smile reappeared. “Thanks again… for everything.”

“No problem, Mr. Edgeworth.”

“Uh, Miles is fine.”

“Miley it is.”

“No, not…”