Ace Attorney, its characters and settings, are property of Capcom, and are being used here without permission.  This fic is rated PG.

 

 

Sorely Lacking
Oneshot

 

 

 

"Objection!"

 

Karma clenched his jaw as the declaration interrupted his carefully planned argument.  It was a waste of time--whatever the defense attorney had to say, it couldn't possibly impact his line or reasoning, much less the outcome of the trial.  Of course, he couldn’t simply ignore his ranting much longer, either.

 

"On what grounds?" von Karma all but growled.

 

Gregory Edgeworth straightened, looking a bit startled that Karma was recognizing his presence at all.  He recovered from his surprise quickly enough to explain his ridiculous protest.  "The defendant's fingerprints were not recovered from this supposed murder weapon," he declared.  "You have no proof that--"

 

"If you would keep your mouth closed for more than fifteen seconds at a time, I would explain," Karma snapped.  "That is, how the victim wore gloves to--"

 

"There were no gloves recovered from the scene, or my client's person," Gregory continued to pester him.  "The only explanation is--"

 

"The only explanation," Karma interrupted again, snapping his fingers to silence the man, "is that you are incapable of remaining silent when you know your client is guilty!"

 

Gregory's mouth opened and closed, grasping after a response.  If Karma were in a better mood, he might have found his exasperation amusing.  "That has nothing to do with--"

 

"Your Honor!"

 

If there was anything more irritating than being cut off by a defense attorney, it was having the proceedings halted by some member of the court.  Karma turned his glare on the wiry bailiff making his way up to the Judge's bench.  He crossed his arms in annoyance.  Normally he would have made his displeasure verbal, but across from him Gregory was attempting to hold his gaze.  There was something sharp in his eyes that made him difficult to look away from.  As soon as the bailiff's business was completed they would be back to the trial, and more importantly, their battle.  He wanted to be ready to spring the moment he was able.

 

The Judge stroked his beard as the bailiff leaned in to whisper something in his ear.  "Hmm.  I see."  The bailiff stepped back, and Karma was preparing to raise his next point when the crack of the Judge's gavel caught him off guard.  "Due to outside circumstances, I am ordering a thirty minute recess," he declared.

 

Karma tensed angrily--another ridiculous waste of time.  "Are you not going to tell us what this pressing circumstance is?" he demanded, fingers digging into his coat sleeve.

 

"I'm afraid it's very urgent," the Judge elaborated.  He looked to the defense.  "Mr. Edgeworth.  You're needed in the Defense Lobby immediately."

 

Gregory straightened, finally giving up on his angry glare.  "Yes, Your Honor."

 

Scowling, Karma gathered up his evidence.  A recess.  Another wasted half hour of his life.  He stared at Gregory as he left with the bailiff, determined to make him regret the interruption as soon as they reconvened.

 

As it turned out, Karma's patience didn’t last that long.  After ten minutes of pacing the Prosecution Lobby with nothing to occupy him--his case was already flawless--he marched down the hall in search of the cause of the delay.

 

"Damn Edgeworth," he muttered under his breath.  "Whatever it is, it had better be important."

 

When he reached the Defense Lobby he was a bit surprised to find a pair of uniformed officers waiting at the door, conversing in hushed tones.  They exchanged glances as the prosecutor approached.  It was the apparent elder of the two that spoke up first.  "Mr. von Karma.  Is there--"

 

"What is the meaning of this?" Karma snapped as he slowed at the entrance.  The Lobby door was open, and he caught a glimpse of Gregory's gray suit inside.  "What could possibly be imperative enough to halt an institution of law--not to mention waste my precious time?"

 

"We're very sorry, Sir," the man replied crisply.  "But you see, Mr. Edgeworth's--"

 

Karma cut him off with a wave of his hand.  "I don't need to hear your excuses."  These men weren't the real object of his wrath, and he moved past them into the lobby doorway.  "Edgeworth!  If it's your personal business that's holding up my--"

 

"Not now, von Karma."

 

Karma bristled, but before he could unleash greater fury he finally took in the state of his opposing council.  Gregory was seated on the lobby's cheap red sofa, elbows braced on his knees and head in his hands.  His glasses were missing, and it took Karma a moment to realize they were resting on the floor near his feet. 

 

Karma's brow furrowed.  He was almost never at a loss for words, but then, he had never seen Defense Attorney Gregory Edgeworth at anything less than the height of his composure.  "What's the matter with you?" he asked impatiently.

 

"Please," Gregory muttered.  His face was half hidden but the roughness of his voice was not so easily concealed.  "Leave me alone."

 

A moment passed, wherein Karma almost relented.  He shifted uncomfortably against his cane and glanced between Gregory and his glasses several times.  Then he snorted.  "Whatever it is, there can be no excuse for interrupting our proceedings," he insisted.  "Pull yourself together already so we can--"

 

Gregory made a deep sound of contempt, so unlike any utterance Karma was used to hearing from him--it raised a shudder of malcontent up his spine that was almost familiar.  At last the Defense Attorney lifted his head to reveal red eyes and tear-streaked cheeks.  "For God's sake, Manfred, let me be!"

 

Taken aback, Karma leaned away, almost retreating a step entirely.  The man was crying.  He stared back at him with mixed surprise and…disgust.  His mind, which was usually so carefully ordered, spun in brief seconds of incomprehension.  Whatever had reduced Gregory to such a state was needling at Karma's insides, and this time he couldn't rally his senses quickly enough to reply.

 

A third officer entered the room then, carrying against his hip a young boy who looked to be no more than four or five years of age.  As soon as he was set down the boy noticed his father's glasses next to Karma's shoe, and he bent down carefully to retrieve them.  "Dad…?"

 

Gregory's expression broke.  There was no other way Karma could think to describe the way his brow relaxed, the way every muscle along his face went slack in exhaustion.  He scrubbed his eyes quickly against his sleeve and motioned his son closer.  "Come here, Miles."

 

Miles obeyed, and was gathered up quickly in the man's trembling arms.  He looked…confused, and uncertain, not unlike a softened version of Karma's own visage.  Gregory allowed the boy to replace his glasses on his nose and pushed slowly to his feet.

 

"We're going home," Gregory said distantly.

 

They came forward, and Karma stepped out of the way before he could think not to.  As the pair stepped past he finally regained his senses.  His protest came instinctually.  "Edgeworth--the trial--"

 

"It can wait."  Gregory sighed as he moved out into the hall.  "You're going to win anyway."

 

Karma's brow furrowed.  "Of course…."

 

Gregory didn’t glance back as he continued on.  "Excuse me."

 

Karma continued to stare as Gregory and his son moved away.  He replayed the short encounter over in his head, still made vaguely uncomfortable by the pathetic spectacle he had been witness to.  By the way Gregory's breath had emptied from him in that frustrated growl of dismissal, as if Karma simply…did not understand.

 

"Sir."  The youngest of the officers stepped closer, and his timidity was almost as despicable.  "It was…his wife, Sir.  There was an accident--"

 

Karma cut him off with a sharp humph.  "That's not my concern," he grumbled, turning away.  "If trial is adjourned for today, I'm going back to the office."

 

Ignoring the bewildered eyes of the officers, Karma stomped down the hall once more to retrieve his evidence and briefcase.

 

*****

 

The grip of the gun was warm against Karma's palm.  The stick of the metal to his clammy flesh was unbearable, drowning out all other sensation--even the searing pain in his shoulder, exploding out like acid splashing across his bones.  He couldn't feel the blood seeping gradually deeper into the lapel of his suit.

 

Gregory Edgeworth lay crumpled in a corner of the elevator.  He was not alone but he might as well have been, for all it mattered.  Though having always been of a fair complexion his skin was unnaturally pale now, his breath a slow, heavy rasp.  His brow was tight with fear even while unconscious.  He looked weak. 

 

And yet this was the man who had bested him.  Only hours ago they had faced off as enemies, with results too disastrous for Karma to contemplate.  But as much as he hated him for it, there was something worse burrowing into Karma's subconscious more effectively than a led bullet, and it was that making his hand shake around the firearm.

 

It was the look of contempt.  It was the murmur of disdain, the cold, accusing eyes that so sharply intimated superiority.  Gregory thought he was better than him.  Karma had suspected as much in their previous encounters, but it wasn't until that morning in court that he was certain.

 

Gregory pitied him.  There was something he had that Manfred von Karma simply did not understand.  And it was worse than being hated.

 

Karma squeezed the trigger.  He didn't hear the shot, but he stood still a while longer, watching until Gregory stopped breathing.

 

If filled him with relief.

 

 

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