The sound was much louder now that it had broken out of its muffling gag, finally being enabled to scream to its heart's content. Phoenix scanned the dark, desolate room. The earlier brightly lit room in which Edgeworth had been cuddling the defence attorney in his lap and murmuring unfairly sexy things into his ear whilst trying to seduce him was now within the dastardly possessive clutches of night, invaded by an eerily infectious silence - bar the occasional shrill cries of the tune shattering this atmosphere. It took him a moment to recognise the thing, and his gaze instantly fell upon the front door of his office, sighing and allowing his shoulders to slump in resignation as the reality of the situation hit him.
"Th-The door..." He subconsciously tugged the blanket further around his shoulders, shrinking back into it.
"I can't darn well answer it like this..." Phoenix mumbled, staring at his, merely half-covered, physique and grimacing as his eyes rested on his fully bare chest, wondering what on earth to do.
"W-well they can't exactly expect me to be fully d-dressed in the middle of the night, now can they?" He muttered indignantly, groaning as he heard the doorbell ring again. He decided that whoever it was would give him the benefit of the doubt, and nervously stepped towards the entrance, cautiously unlocking it and opening it with a loud 'creeeeaaak'...

"H-Hello?" Phoenix shivered as the cool breeze suddenly shook him and remembered his pink and white boxers, causing him to feverishly blush.
"Hello?" He repeated hoarsely, squinting at the disappointingly empty landscape of buildings he'd been presented with, and sighed. It had  probably just been some kid who'd been messing around with his doorbell to pick a fight. Just as he was about to slam the door shut and trudge back into Edgeworth's welcoming arms, a small package lying desolately on the damp ground (due to the lashings of rain which had been pelting down throughout night and day recently) with a lopsidedly tied bow of string wrapped around it caught the corner of the defence attorney's eyes. He frowned at it for a minute, contemplating whether to pick it up, and read the messily inscribed handwriting on the loosely attached name tag;
'For Phoenix'

Whether it was the use of his first name or the fact that whoever had sent it had taken the time to attach a name tag that gave Phoenix the incentive to pick it up, the defence attorney didn't know. However, whatever it was, he still tenderly brought the strange package into his arms, cradling it with such care - as if it were a child. He peered at the cardboard box intently, clearly expectant of something, before shuddering as another bone-chillingly cold gust of wind rushed past him and forced him to hug himself tightly as his shield was blown off of his shoulders - which promptly rounded as he spotted his blanket on the floor by his ankles. Goosebumps began to appear on his delicate flesh.

A sudden grunt came from behind him, and the defence attorney tensed as he felt a sharp twinge of pain grasp his arm, widening his eyes and allowing the box to drop from his rapidly numbing grasp with an instant 'thud!'. "H-Huh...?" He drowsily mumbled in alarm, trembling with fear and reeling backwards as he noticed the ruby red liquid, presumably his own, trickling down his right hand arm and tracing the outline of his soft skin, his head spinning. In a last, impossible attempt, he forced his, now weak, limbs to turn his body around to face the door he'd entered from, stumbling blindly towards it in order to try and get back to the prosecutor. To get back into safety. To get back out of this mess.

Why was he bleeding?
Why was his whole body throbbing with such agony?
Why was his energy evaporating so rapidly?

He no longer had the power to open his mouth and he felt his body shutting down. He was succumbing to the numbing agony, blundering into the wall next to the door blindly and leaning on it, resting his entire body weight on it; trusting it with his life. His vision began to spin uncontrollably, and he felt a growing need to throw up begin to crawl up the back of his throat. Thoughts were unnecessary. He just needed to get back to.... Who was it again? Who was it that was lying in his bed? Who was it who unconditionally loved him? Why was he here again? Where was he again? Who was he ag..

Then, bliss.

Everything fell away from him. He became everything. Everything submerged him in its nothingness as he lost his grip, forgetting his feeble balance. He became the night. Darkness consumed his mind. Peaceful, peaceful darkness and silence.

The box sat silently, watching intently.