"Hm?" Edgeworth instantly spun around on the bed to survey the area behind him as the small 'pat' of the figurine echoed as it hit the floor. He was certainly on edge from his sudden fit of crying over his boyfriend, but he was sure he hadn't imagined that particular noise. It felt too real.
"Is anyone there?" The prosecutor did his best to wipe away the streaks of salty liquid still adorning his face as he peered over the far ledge of the bed, frowning as he came face to face with the tiny, glow-in-the-dark yellow figurine that Phoenix had pointed out was clinging to the ceiling the night before.
"Trucy.." He muttered to himself under his breath, still convinced that their adopted, magician daughter was the mastermind behind this yellow phenomenon. Had Trucy heard about her father's disappearance yet? Edgeworth shuddered at the thought. No, Trucy was away at her friend's for a week. She wouldn't know a thing. The prosecutor was slightly relieved by this, but his agony at being all alone could not be overcome. Edgeworth half-heartedly reached out and gingerly picked up the figurine, glaring at it angrily and turning it over in his hands, examining it desperately, as if he thought it would give him some sort of answer as to where Phoenix was. No, there was nothing of interest about this figurine to Edgeworth, apart from the fact that something which was - supposedly - supposed to be soft and 'malleable' was so fat and rigid; and it had a hole on its stomach, the size of half of your smallest finger's nail. Inside the hole was just darkness. Darkness with a slight sheen from the light, however Edgeworth couldn't see much else about it under this light - and had no intention of going around poking his finger into the character's stomach. He set the toy down on his bedside table, beside the framed picture of his dashing defence attorney boyfriend, and gagged, swallowing another flood of tears as he changed into his full set of crimson pyjamas, creasing his brow as he noticed that, not only were Phoenix's pink, stripey boxers that he'd been wearing the night before (the pair that Edgeworth had made him wear for a laugh) gone, but his full, stark blue suit set was missing too.

No..

Phoenix wouldn't have left him intentionally, would he? Why else would he take his suit with him? Edgeworth briskly shook his head as he shrugged his red shirt on. How dare he doubt his boyfriend like that? The defence attorney would never do such a thing without warning him, or at least without a very good reason. The prosecutor paused; then, why had Phoenix disappeared? The whole police force and even Edgeworth himself had all been so occupied, so frantic, over finding the defence attorney that they'd neglected this crucial question. His stomach churned at the thoughts flying through his head.
"I should just rest." He tutted to himself and walked, woodenly, over to the bed, slumping down on it even though it was still far too early to be going to sleep at this hour. Edgeworth seemed to he hoping, desperately desperately begging, that he could fall asleep and wake up to find that Phoenix hadn't disappeared and that he wasn't alone. Foolish. The prosecutor forced his eyes shut, not even bothering to reach out to close the curtains on the defence attorney's side of the bed (on the first night they'd slept together, Edgeworth had insisted on sleeping on the farthest side from the window on all occasions, as he valued his privacy, and Phoenix hadn't felt the urge to argue).

Darkness consumed his mind.

..... For the best of 5 minutes.

Edgeworth's eyes snapped open again and he instantly glanced to his right-hand shoulder hoping, despite the gigantic improbability, that his boyfriend would be stretched out beside him. He had no such luck. The prosecutor gritted his teeth; was this what sexual frustration felt like? Or was it what Phoenix had gone through when he'd pretended to commit suicide? Poor Phoenix... Now Edgeworth could fully understand why he'd not been able to forgive him straight away. The prosecutor was amazed he'd even been able to forgive him at all, if this is what he'd put him through. This intangible ache of lust and longing was overtaking his senses. He had to find something to distract him from Phoenix Wright. Anything. Before he really did go insane. Edgeworth glanced at the figurine suspiciously, pondering about it for a moment. That thing had appeared a night before his boyfriend's disappearance and, now that he thought about it, Trucy could not have been the one to 'magic' it up there, for she had left to go to her friend's house the day before. Then who, how, when and why had it been placed up there? What if it was more significant than the prosecutor had first thought? Edgeworth knew he wouldn't be able to forgive himself if he left a key piece of evidence unexamined, so he rolled his eyes and lazily brought it onto his lap, forcing himself into an upright position. This wasn't going to be much of a distraction from Phoenix's disappearance, but at least he could make himself useful, he supposed. If his boyfriend saw him like this... Upset, hurt, angry, uncertain.. He didn't want to imagine his heartbroken reaction.

The prosecutor grimaced as he felt the cheap, malleable plastic clamp around his index finger as he felt for whatever was inside the badly-crafted hollow toy, and he creased his brow as he was met with something surprisingly cold and metal. Something cuboid. Perplexed, he fished the item out of the thing's body through the hole, and widened his eyes in shock, his heart instantly racing into action and sending his mind spinning. This was just what he needed. This was it... He sincerely hoped this was it, anyway. With hands slightly shaking with excitement, the prosecutor groped for his mobile phone upon his bedside table, and frantically dialled Ema's number. She picked up after 3 long rings;
"Hello, Mr Edgeworth?"

"Come here right this instant. It's urgent."