InsaneJournal

To Each A Tempo -- Chapter 21 (PG-13)
Title: To Each A Tempo -- Chapter 21
Fandom: Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney/Elite Beat Agents crossover
Completion date: April 22nd, 2008
Rating: PG-13
Wordcount: 3453
Characters: Phoenix, Maya, Agent J, Edgeworth, Gumshoe, the Judge, Pathos.



     It began with a spark, one bright instant -- he couldn't give up.

     "--And since Mr. Pathos's testimony against Mr. Lowe is conclusive," the Judge decided, "Moreso than anything else presented in this case, I see no reason to prolong this trial. This court finds the defendant--"
     "Objection!"
     "Mr. Wright ...?"

     I feel alive~
     And the world, it's turning inside out, yeah~

     His fists shook against the stand, strength rose in him because it wouldn't end like this, it couldn't.
     "Your Honour," Phoenix said -- the spark caught and rose higher, he heard feet moving in time -- "You can't, there are too many questions unanswered here, and Mr. Pathos isn't telling the whole story!"
     A startled blink, and the Judge's face quickly darkened. "I won't allow stalling, Mr. Wright, or wild accusations. Do you have evidence that Mr. Pathos is being untruthful?"
     It was Phoenix's last shot--

     So don't stop me now~
     Don't stop me 'cause I'm having a good time, having a good time~

     --And he'd chance the double edge; he slapped Pathos's articles onto the stand, the whole stack of them.
     "These are the articles Mr. Pathos writes. They're from a wide variety of publications but they have one thing in common: they argue the existance of Elite Beat Agents!"
     "Elite Beat Agents?" the Judge wondered, "That sounds like a video game!"
     "They're black-clad men with musical superpowers," Edgeworth cut in, scorn creeping into his voice, "Pure rumour and urban legend."
     It didn't matter -- press on, the beat urged Phoenix, push this advantage and push it hard.

     I'm a shooting star leaping through the sky like a tiger~
     Defying the laws of gravity~

     "If Mr. Pathos makes his living theorizing about Elite Beat Agents, and he saw a chance to create subject matter for himself, why wouldn't he?"
     Phoenix looked then to the witness stand -- Pathos glared like knives and that meant it was working, here was a lead to chase--

     I'm gonna go, go, go~
     There's no stoppin' me~
     Phoenix had a team strong behind him -- he pointed a challenge at Pathos, staring down the length of his arm:
     "Music was playing in the park, and my client was wearing a suit! Those are known characteristics of Elite Beat Agents, and that's all Mr. Pathos would need to create a media scandal!"

     More gallery rumble, more cracks of the gavel but Phoenix heard only a quick beat and orange-hot drive and Pathos's mouthed growl:
     "Not this time."

     I'm burning through the sky, yeah~
     Two hundred degrees, that's why they call me Mister Fahrenheit~

     "Do you deny it, Mr. Pathos?" Phoenix slammed palms on the stand, and he cried over the noise, "Do you deny that this was the opportunity of your journalistic career?"
     "T-That--"
     "You were fired from your previous job, weren't you, Mr. Pathos? Was this your chance to get back on top?"
     "You couldn't be more wrong," Pathos snapped -- and straightened slow, strained his voice to composure, "I-I ... couldn't possibly have planned this."
     "Order! Order in this court!" And with a glare at Phoenix, the Judge barked, "Just one moment, Mr. Wright!"

     I'm travelling at the speed of light~
     I'm gonna make a supersonic man out of you~

     "What are you proposing, here?"
     Phoenix thought -- no, knew -- to a soaring beat. He held the pieces and he sensed where they fit--
     "Consider this," Phoenix said, "Mr. Pathos saw Mr. Lowe before the murder, and happened to be dressed the same way. He has ready access to the Orchard alleyway. And he had something to gain from killing Morna Beasley and framing Stewart Lowe for the crime! The murderer can only be you, Mr. Pathos!"
     "Let us not forget the ink traces and dress shoe footprints found on the scene," Edgeworth added, "Which coincidently match Mr. Pathos's favoured pen colour and his formal shoes."

     Don't stop me now~
     'Cause I'm havin' such a good time, I'm havin' a ball~

     "Hmm ... This is an alarming amount of coincidence, indeed," the Judge grumbled, "Your response, Mr. Pathos?"
     But he was smiling again, impervious to the rhythm and the chains around him.
     "Is this really the strongest argument against me? I expected better of the renowned Phoenix Wright."

     If you wanna have a good time, just give me a call~
     Don't stop me now~
     Don't stop me now~

     And Pathos's cold eyes narrowed as he said, "You're still using happenstance to accuse a man of murder. I propose that if there is no concrete evidence, there has been no wrongdoing on my part."

     "We can prove it, Nick," Maya murmured hard by his side, rising, "You can hear it, can't you?"
     The tune, the beat, the power shaking through his body and honing his tongue? Phoenix could be deaf and he'd still hear it, he'd feel it. But he and Maya and the Agents had lacked concrete evidence all along; the distinctive pen hadn't even worked, it all beaded right off Pathos; what more did they have to throw?

     "Well, Mr. Wright?" the Judge asked, "Do you have evidence directly implicating Mr. Pathos?"

     I'm a rocket ship on my way to Mars
     On a collision course~
     I am a satillite, I'm out of control~

     Arms swayed in time around Phoenix and he ground his teeth; the answer lay outside the box but where?
     Follow his path, Phoenix.
     That voice, one more ally by his side -- Phoenix looked to Maya, and she was her usual self, shock and joy spreading on her face.
     "All this music channelling ...! Oh, Sis!"
     You'll need something unusual, Mia said, warm confidence and knowing smile, something normal circumstances can't explain, something he can't hide.

     "The court is waiting, Mr. Wright."
     "I-I ... have evidence!"

     Like an atom bomb~
     About to oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, explode~

     His thoughts raced and settled on the biggest tangle of contradictions, and he reached under the bench, into his briefcase -- "The Orchard alley's camera!"
     "The ... alley camera?" The Judge's resettled his grip on the gavel -- what was it, a motorcycle's throttle? "But the identity of the person in that photo is impossible to determine!"
     "No, I mean the actual camera." And, lifting the broken piece of it, Phoenix said, "It was tampered with! Someone yanked off a piece of the casing, and broke wires."

     I'm burning through the sky, yeah~
     Two hundred degrees, that's why they call me Mister Fahrenheit~

     "An electrical surge damaged the camera's recorded data," Edgeworth added, with a pensive fold of his arms, "And it appears to have been caused by deliberate damage. Does that camera piece has some trace of the tamperer on it?"
     Did it? Melted edges, snapped wires, some kind of chippy thingie -- they didn't have time for fingerprinting, how would Pathos leave anything distinctive enough to--

     Try it the other way around, Phoenix.
     Other way around ... The camera piece leaving a trace on the tamperer? Phoenix looked to Pathos and didn't just see frost anymore; he felt another racing heart, knew the slow boil of loathing and knew chains tight enough to choke -- and Phoenix remembered, one lurid moment of a hand squeezed in his own and the uneasy twitch of wrinkles around Pathos's eyes.

     Don't stop me~
     Don't stop me~

     "Actually ..." Phoenix said, and laid hands on his hips, "Damaging electrical equipment would be dangerous. Wouldn't it, Mr. Edgeworth?"
     "Broken electrical wires would be dangerous, yes." And, canting his head, understanding knitting his brow, "Even a standard household plug carries enough electrical current to burn. It's entirely possible that the camera tamperer was injured."
     Now the colour came: a tightening of Pathos's jaw, shivering chains and the blue-cold sting of fear. Phoenix smirked.
     "Mr. Pathos ... Please lift your right hand for the court."

     I'm burning through the sky, yeah~
     Two hundred degrees, that's why they call me Mister Fahrenheit~

     But he stood silent, staring. He looked contemplatively to the stand -- a hard flash of grudge, of remembering office order before the rhythm and the quivering locks drowned it out -- and then Pathos evenly spoke:
     "May I ask a question, Mr. Wright?"

     He's stalling, Mia muttered, don't get distracted.
     "He just asked a question." Maya bunched fists. "Give him an answer, Nick!"

     "If your theory works so well," Pathos said, "If you know this much, then what did I supposedly use to dispatch Ms. Beasley?"
     Definitely stalling, but the point stood -- Phoenix's mouth worked, and he tightened fists on the stand.

     Don't stop me now~
     I'm havin' such a good time, I'm havin' a ball~

     "You-- You've been evading police for days! That's plenty of time to dispose of the murder weapon!" But he'd have to guess, slap a bandage on this hole and Phoenix followed the cymbals' beats, remembered fire-- "But here's another interesting coincidence, Mr. Pathos -- the murder weapon was something rounded. I proposed earlier that it was a pair of the metal tongs Chef LaFlamme carries, but if you pass through her kitchen on a regular basis ... the wielder could just as easily have been you!"
     A queasy flare: outrage, confidence, and Pathos's eyes narrowed.
     "Do you accuse witnesses with whatever pops into your head? For shame, Mr. Wri--"

     And the great courtroom doors banged open, and a shout rang out:
     "Hold it!"
     Time shattered; the court turned to watch Detective Gumshoe charge in, holding an evidence bag high.
     "Wait, Your Honour, sir!"

     Don't stop me now~
     Don't stop me now~

     "Detective," the Judge cried, "What is the meaning of this?"
     Gumshoe didn't slow -- he strode to the defense stand, tall and ferociously proud, Pathos flinching in his wake.
     "I have decisive evidence here, the missing piece!" And, lower, grinning at Phoenix, "I got here as fast as I could, pal!"
     "New evidence?" The Judge paused. "Will a recess be necessary?"
     And as the evidence was thrust into his hands -- a microphone, solid and black-gleaming within the plastic -- Phoenix shook his head.
     "No, Your Honour."

     I don't wanna stop at all~

     "Detective," Phoenix said, "This looks like an ordinary cordless microphone."
     "Not quite, pal," Gumshoe announced, turning to face the court, "It's got Nexus Broadcasting's logo printed on the bottom, where the fiddly dial is! This is a really high-class piece of equipment!"
     "And where was it found?"
     Gumshoe puffed his chest. "That's the good part, pal! We found this because Chef LaFlamme said Mr. Pathos might have been messing around in the basement -- this microphone was behind the fuse box of the Orchard bistro!"

     The gallery murmured scandal; defeat bled through the air around Pathos. The song faded.
     Good luck, Mia whispered, more smile than words.
     Teammates stilled in crisp unison, and the music was gone.

     "Mr. Pathos is former employee of Nexus." Edgeworth tapped a finger against his arm. "And since it's unlikely that the Orchard staff would have the same access to Nexus equipment ... Why did you put the microphone there, Mr. Pathos?"

     Silence clung now. The world was three plain dimensions and Pathos stood with head bowed.

     "This microphone feels like sturdy metal," Phoenix wondered, "And its size and shape match the wound on the victim's head. This is what you used, isn't it? And then you had to get rid of the murder weapon, rather than be caught with it!"
     A heavy sigh, and Pathos brought his free hand to his temple, absently smoothing hair.
     "That was earlier today, after the bistro closed for the night. Chef LaFlamme ... didn't see me that time, I made sure of it. Her apprentice whelp must have passed by."
     He coughed a laugh.
     "I truly thought Cherry wouldn't say one word against me."

     "Mr. Pathos," and the Judge was solemn now, "What are you saying?"
     "He's saying," Phoenix announced, "That he used this microphone to strike Ms. Beasley. His fingerprints are probably all over it!"
     "My, no," Pathos murmured to the stand, "I wouldn't be so sloppy. You may find skin traces in the mesh of the microphone's head, that part is difficult to clean properly."

     Gumshoe shuffled away to one side; the silence itched. The Judge began clearing his throat as if just learning how.
     Phoenix leaned closer over the bench. "Why, Mr. Pathos? Why did you kill her?"

     And he was all dark glare again, all venom in his voice:
     "Why do any of us do anything? What makes a person want to ruin another, can you tell me that, Agent?"
     He should have known this was coming; Phoenix stared back, and said nothing.
     "I-I can hear your kind." Quiet now, his murmur filling the room to the ceiling, Pathos said, "I hear them passing through the city, and I hear sudden music. The thought of that sort of chaos ..."
     "Chaos?" Phoenix asked.
     "You know what I'm referring to."
     "I don't," the Judge said, with a puzzled blink, "Could you clarify for the court?"

     Pathos turned his glare to Stewart; the court around them barely mattered.
     "I'm sure there's some motive to their madness. But what I know of Agents is that they descend without warning, and they ... have a power over the human mind. When I worked for Nexus Broadcast, I had everything, I had a career and a future -- until one moment of weakness, one report I lacked the sources for. They knew somehow, they must have planned which term report to sabotage because before I knew it, I held my desk's contents in a cardboard box!" A shudder of laughter. "The ten-year pen and a handshake one day, a pink slip the next! How many others have you ruined, Agent? You must forgive me for asking, your patterns are quite difficult to track."
     "You've been studying these Agents?" Nothing but stone in Edgeworth's voice. "How?"

     And Pathos closed his eyes then.
     "If I were more knowledgable about electronics, or if I had surveillance opportunities ... My specialty is advertising. Sharing information, putting a spin on it. I know what I saw that day, three years ago, and what others have seen and ... what I can hear."
     "I'm afraid I still don't understand," the Judge tried, "What does this have to do with the murder of Ms. Morna Beasley?"
     "Murder ... That's a word I've been coming to terms with lately." Pathos swallowed. "This is what happened: I visited the Orchard for lunch, as I said. And then I knew chaos. I felt it, the ... rhythm Agents stir, as near as that day it was turned on me! I left the bistro and followed it -- listening to the rhythm but I ... I was ignoring its pull, I suppose, refusing to be sucked in--"
     He felt Stewart's assist, and he went to it, Phoenix thought.
     "Maybe you heard the music from the wedding?" he said instead.
     "Oh, it was more than that. She was frightened, and then high on courage, and then relieved. The same relief I knew for an instant, before my career ended! The poor fool, she had no idea what had just been done to her."
     Pausing then, Pathos gazed at the stand, and into the past.
     "I had prepared myself, with a microphone like the ones Agents use. I didn't know what I would do with it until I was in the bushes, digging for the microphone in my briefcase -- here was a woman near the end of her life, and freshly cursed. I could keep her from ruin like mine. It ... made perfect sense at the time."

     The court was silent. Pathos smiled, weakly.

     "It sounds terrible aloud, doesn't it?"
     "Mr. Pathos," Phoenix said, "What did you do then?"
     "I realized what I had done, then. I put the microphone back in my briefcase, and began to run ..." His voice dropped. "My memory is somewhat scattered, I do apologize."
     "You evaded police too well to be working off of panic, Mr. Pathos." Edgeworth braced a hand on his stand, and he glared. "Try to remember."
     For a long moment, Pathos thought.

     "But if he really realized what he did," Maya wondered, murmuring against her clasped hands, "He must have panicked. Or felt something, at least ..."
     That snapped into place in Phoenix's mind; he picked up the sketched map, following Pathos's flight path and Maya's widening yellow markings.
     "And if he only panicked after he realized what he did," he muttered, "That must have been what Stewart sensed, and chased into the alley!"

     "I couldn't think much of anything at the time," Pathos finally said. "The alley door was locked, as I left it. I couldn't recall where my keys were, even though they turned out to be in my pocket. I suppose I jumped the fence, then ... The next thing I recall is looking up at the camera -- I couldn't risk being caught on film."
     Phoenix leaned in. "And your hand?"
     Another weak smile.
     "I did say that I'm not skilled with electronics. Very well, Mr. Wright."

     And he removed his right hand from jacket pocket, he lifted it and spread his fingers -- there, between his ring and little fingers, hid the red-glistening electrical burn.
     "It's been a rather painful reminder these past days," Pathos added. He laid his hand on the stand. "And while I stood inside my front door, with the burn freshly throbbing and my senses returning, I could hear the Agent. I could hear him startled and scared as the police caught him. Finally, after all this time!"
     His smile twitched its throes: Pathos's eyes gleamed cold again and he stood proud as he said:
     "Here is my confession: I killed Morna Beasley in cold blood. And I regret it. She didn't deserve to be caught up in this, I truly wish I hadn't but ... I've achieved my goal today."
     Chill ran down Phoenix's spine; he blurted, "What?"
     "You've made a grave mistake this time, Agents," and Pathos fished in his pocket, producing a device like the silver evolution of Gumshoe's frequency detector, the green Nexus logo bold on the back, "Did I finally jam your radio lines? Did you have no choice but to use your powers? Just try to hide it this time -- this entire courtroom heard you. The world knows Elite Beat Agents now!"

     All this effort, all the care and white lies, only for the Agents to throw it all away -- Phoenix was suddenly queasy, tightening his fists, cold inside. They revealed themselves for him, they came to his aid and now--

     "Heard ... what, Mr. Pathos?" the Judge asked.
     "T-The ... The music, the powers!" And the colour drained from him -- "Mr. Wright's display a few minutes ago, how could you miss it?!"
     "It was nothing supernatural, I assure you," Edgeworth replied, shrugging. "Mr. Wright makes spectacular comebacks on a regular basis."
     "Yes," the Judge agreed, nodding, "He can be quite amazing to watch. Very theatrical. He's downright obtrusive!"

     Just this once, Phoenix wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

     Sputtering, Pathos managed, "B-But--"
     "You might want to follow your own advice, Mr. Pathos," Edgeworth said, smirking, lifting palms, "You're accusing a man based on happenstance. Do you have concrete evidence that Mr. Wright is one of your Agents?"

     A stifling silence, while Pathos struggled and couldn't manage to smile again.

     "Well played," he murmured, "All of you."
     He bowed his head.
     "I can't prove my case. I've been working from my own experience, from what I know to be true. One man's experience is no evidence, is it?." And with a slow shake of his head, "You win, Agents. I have nothing left."
     Grumbling thoughtfully, the Judge straightened, and decided, "The existence of Agents is a moot point, Mr. Pathos -- you committed murder, and attempted to get an innocent man convicted for it. Another trial will determine your fate. Baliffs, please remove Mr. Pathos."

     Pathos stood, quiet; the gallery's buzz sluiced off him, the clicking handcuffs and the stern hands at his elbows couldn't touch him. This was no victory, Phoenix knew with a slow wrench in his gut.

     "Hold it."

     The baliffs paused; Pathos looked up, stunned and fighting again for an expression. And Stewart was on his feet, leaning on the defendant's box like he strained at a leash.

     "He's not going to--" Phoenix hissed, "He can't!"
     "He has to." Maya looked to Stewart and back, eyes shining. "He helps people."
     "I-If ..." Stewart's fists tightened, bloodless. "If somebody tried to help ya, an' they made a mess of it ... they'd be sorry. They really would, every time they think about it, every day of these three years! It never shoulda turned out this way. I-I can't prove it for ya but ... Please, believe me."
     One instant of unreadable stare, of thoughts churning in Pathos's eyes before the baliffs moved, and the courtroom doors creaked and slammed and he was gone.

     The Judge sat tall now.
     "Well, I believe we've answered all of the questions raised. And if there are no further objections--"
     Phoenix looked across the court, to Edgeworth's fleeting smirk.
     "--I will now announce my verdict. This court finds the defendant, Stewart Lowe, not guilty."

     A last crack of the gavel, a swell of gallery voices, and Gumshoe tossing fluttering handfuls of confetti -- Phoenix let out a sigh. For better or worse, it was over.
     "Come on, Nick," Maya said, all sunshine as usual, "It's been forever since we talked to the Agents, what are we doing standing around?"
     He'd really have to teach Maya to tell time someday. Swiping confetti bits from his hair, Phoenix smiled to match her.



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


I have nothing to say but eeeeeee! *flail* :D I've been thinking about this for so long! The song used is, as I'm sure you know, Don't Stop Me Now by Queen and that's been a cornerstone of my Tempo mental image.

This is the last chapter, kids -- the next Tempo installment will be the epilogue, and the end of the story. I'm so not letting this end without a big freakin' party. So here's the deal: on Monday, April 28th, I'll post To Each A Tempo's epilogue, and simultaneously put up a link to an AIM chatroom. Come visit! There'll be drabble door prizes, downloads of director's-cut-type goodies, and the kind of goofy crack that just hangs in a CLOUD wherever I go. I'll be hanging out in the room all day -- whatever your time zone or your real life schedule, drop by!