Musty clusters of dust swarmed around them.
"You're not going to like this."
"I don't like what has already happened anyway." The prosecutor bit his tongue after he finished his sentence, discreetly digging his nails into his end of the old, wooden desk.
"We found traces of a strong purification agent upon his skin and, unfortunately, inside his digestive system."
"Purification agent?"
"Permasia."
"Is that Latin for something which I'm supposed to understand?" Edgeworth rolled his eyes. Were all doctors and scientists like this?
"No, that is the name of said agent. It's not Latin for anything, actually. It's just a few random sounds combined into 1 word which scientists thought sounded nice." The prosecutor almost choked on laughter at Mr Burgess's sincere tone, but stopped himself for fear of coming across as 'rude'.
"Oh, well, anyway.. What does this have to do with my boyfriend? And what is a purification agent?"
"A purification agent is a substance which is usually used in hospitals to convince patients of certain things or to, essentially, eradicate traumatic experiences within their lives which may be causing them distress by 'rewriting' their memories." Edgeworth remained silent, entranced by the tangle of words escaping the doctor's lips, as he continued after taking a deep breath in;
"Purification agents are normally only distributed in extremely small quantities, as a mere table-spoonful of the stuff is enough to rewrite at least a years-worth of memory of the applicant's choice."
"And...?"
"In order to direct what area of a person's memory you wish to eradicate, you simply give the patient a small amount of the liquid and remind them, as you apply it, of the experience you wish to remove. It takes a while to take effect.."
"What does any of this have to do with Phoenix?" The prosecutor hesitantly asked, not liking where this was going one bit.
"Well, you see..." The doctor blinked his startlingly wide, blue eyes and stared directly into Edgeworth's, making eye contact.
"As I mentioned before, your boyfriend was smothered in the stuff... And that's, obviously, not a good thing." Mr Burgess rubbed his weary eyes, brushing his prune-like skin as he attempted to focus on the matter at hand.
"Don't treat it delicately. Tell me how it is." The prosecutor prompted, eager to hear, for himself, how Phoenix was.
"This 'kidnapper' of yours.. He used the Permasia substance on your boyfriend in a great quantity. He clearly rubbed the stuff onto his skin - which absorbed it - and forced him to drink it. Perhaps he confused him, as purification agents look unsettlingly similar to water.."
"You're saying that he tried to eradicate Phoenix's memories of me?" Edgeworth's heart pounded rapidly, and he felt fear; pure terror coursing through his veins as he awaited a response.
"And rewrite them, yes."
"'Rewrite'?"

Edgeworth felt sick. Edgeworth felt very sick.

"Once a purification agent has been applied, it takes a while to take effect - which is why it had only just taken effect by the time your boyfriend had been returned to you - and, during this process of it taking effect, the applicant can feed the patient whatever information they like about the subject they are eradicating - and the patient will take their words as gospel."
"The kidnapper painted me as... Someone abusive?" The prosecutor clutched his stomach. Poor Phoenix..
"By the looks of it, the kidnapper painted you as someone to fear, and Mr Wright believes that you were the one who actually abused him and only used him for sexual pleasure. He is... Terrified of you, I'm sorry to say." Edgeworth fell silent, his throat feeling clogged up and dry, and licked his moisture-less lips as soon as he could. Mr Burgess continued to explain, adding a lighter tone once he noticed the prosecutor's forlorn expression;
"It's not all bad, though."
"Hm?"
"Mr Wright has 'on and off' moods. After you'd left him alone after his freak-out, he'd returned to normal and was asking for you every 5 minutes. Then, when we reminded him of something that may have connotations of what the kidnapper did to him, he suddenly panicked and began screaming and crying uncontrollably, petrified and convinced that you were going to come back to find him... And then he became normal again after about 10 minutes." The prosecutor felt a heavy weight instantaneously be lifted off of his shoulders.

Phoenix still loved him?

In a sudden burst of adrenaline and courage, Edgeworth blurted;
"So, it's fixable? You can get him back to his old self?"
"Well..." The doctor tapped his chin absent-mindedly, staring into blank space with a far-away look darting in his eyes.
"Well?"
"I wouldn't get ahead of yourself. Yes, it is possible for us to fix it, however..."
"However what?"
"However there is only a 50 percent chance that we can achieve that." Edgeworth's smile faded and was replaced with a grave expression.
"50 percent?"
"50 percent." They both fell silent, timing their breathing ever so slightly so that it felt less awkward. The prosecutor's gaze fell upon a small scratch etched in upon the skin of the desk. It was just like that, wasn't it? A scratch on the surface. A mere scar. Scars would heal with time.
"Then there's still a chance." The prosecutor finally breathed out in between his thought-train, narrowing his eyes and clenching his fists in determination as he forced back a few tears.
"Excuse me?"
"There's still a chance. As long as there's a chance, I don't see any reason not to try."
"I personally don't think that it's worth the money in order to perf-" Edgeworth slammed his palms down upon the badly waxed surface of the hunk of wood between them as he rose from his seat, his palms creating light imprints upon the material as he glared angrily at the doctor.
"Money is your concern? I'll pay you however much you need! And I'll wait however long it takes!"
"Mr Edgeworth, I honestly-"
"I don't care about your opinion." The prosecutor sat back down, smoothing out his suit as he did so, and continued with a stern tone;
"You know what? If money is your only concern, I'll pay you extra. How much does it cost to try out this 'cure', hmm?" He snapped.
"This 'cure' is an intensive 9 month psychological training programme in which, almost every other day, a doctor would be visiting your boyfriend and providing moral support and using various methods in order to try and return his mental health to normality."
"I don't recall asking what this cure was, but okay," Edgeworth spoke with an aggressive edge to his tone of voice, impatient to receive an answer to his earlier question. Mr Burgess sighed.
"The cure costs around.." He glanced at the paper upon his desk;
"900 pounds. A lot more than your average lover could be able to afford, I'm sure you'll agree."
"But I'm no average lover." The prosecutor's pupils travelled across the milks sea surrounding the black pinpricks of his eyes until they met with the doctor's, his eyes slits.
"I can see that,"
"I'll pay you 2000 pounds if you can promise me that you'll try." The prosecutor slowly spoke, pronouncing each syllable with care, so as not to make a mistake. The doctor's eyes bulged;
"2000? Mr Edgeworth, you must be joking."
"Would I joke about something so serious? No, I'm being bloody honest with you, Mr Burgess."
"2000..." The doctor stared blankly at the desk in front of him, and at the papers about Phoenix on top of it, as if it would give him some sort of answer.

2000 pounds.

He'd been happy to settle for 900, but 2000?
"I'm sure I can promise you that." Mr Burgess smiled wanly at the prosecutor's stern face - which examined the doctor's expression and demeanour thoroughly before replying;
"I'll pay you it at the end of the deal, then. And I will require weekly reports on Phoenix's progress."
"We insist that you make a deposit first, Mr Edgeworth." The doctor shuffled his papers again.
"You don't trust my word?"
"2000 pounds is a big promise to make and, besides, we cannot afford the equipment to begin without some sort of starting marker." Mr Burgess spoke calmly, in complete compliance of the peaceful, meagre selection of the sun's rays filtering into the room.
"How much will the deposit be?"
"200 pounds."
"10 percent?"
"Yes, 10 percent of the amount you will owe."
"Deal." Edgeworth reached out and shook the doctor's clammy, aged hand confidently.
"Right. Is there anything else you needed to discuss?"
"Not really, except one small thing.." The prosecutor felt his circulatory system's major organ beating rapidly, unable to contain the words about to spill from his mouth with the eager joy within his heart at the mere thought of it becoming a reality.
"Yes?"
"I request to see my boyfriend."
"Ah, I'm afraid.. That may not be possible." The doctor glanced down at Phoenix's papers wearily, his eyes skimming the sea of words in a rather slapdash manner.
"Why ever not?" Edgeworth rose from his chair immediately, already preparing to leave in order to greet Phoenix once again.
"We are unsure of what state he is in now, and whether it will trigger him to see you ag-"
"I wasn't asking, doctor." The prosecutor's eyes darkened as he stated his brief rebuttal.
"But I-"
"I am going to see him, whether you like it or not. You can't deny me this privilege. I have already had to resort to bribery to get you to agree to treating him, so this is the least I should be able to expect from you." He snapped.
"Alright..." Mr Burgess let out a large, heavy sigh as his eyes trailed to watch the prosecutor reach for the brass door handle.
"His ward is on the 3rd floor, on the 5th door to the right."
"Thank you, and you shouldn't worry so much, you know,"
"Why not?"
"If anything goes wrong you're all on standby, aren't you? That's what you're paid for, after all."
"You seem to have a lot of undue faith in us and your boyfriend's recovery." The doctor remarked, surprised to witness a faint smile flicker upon Edgeworth's lips as he finally turned the handle and slowly allowed the door to creak open;

"Why should I have to worry? After all, Phoenix has been through some very rough times before. He's been lost and found, but he's always pulled through. I don't need anything else but my belief in him."