FIC: Turnabout Prince, Part I Title: Turnabout Prince Author: Rosy Rating: PG13 Pairing(s)/character(s): Snupin, with a hint of Phoenix/Miles if you squint a little Summary: It's been years since they've moved to Los Angeles, and now Severus has been accused of murder. Remus goes to the only man he thinks has a chance in hell of proving his lover innocent. But even Phoenix Wright himself may have a hard time with this turnabout. Disclaimer: *ahem* Severus Snape, Remus Lupin, and any mentions of Potterdom canonical characters are property of J.K. Rowling and Warner Brothers. Phoenix Wright and the cast of Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney are property of Capcom and Nintendo. I make no claims of ownership and am not making any profit by their use. Warnings: AU, crossover with Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney aka Big Gay Lawyers. Notes: As with Cowboy!Snupin this is entirely Dizilla's fault. She always gives me the best crack. Set Post War (obviously AU, since they are both alive and well in the City of Angels), and after "Turnabout Goodbyes", the technical last chapter of the first game. I am fiddling with PW canon a smidge... but you'll only notice it if you've played both Ace Attorney and Justice for All. This is a WIP. You do not need to have played the PW games to enjoy the fic. ^_^
Severus Snape had never really appreciated a sunrise before moving to California.
Fifteen years ago, he and Remus had left Britain and its ungrateful wizarding populace behind. They had won the war, made sure the brat had lived to face down Voldemort, cutting a swath through Death Eaters and werewolves alike to make sure the pint-sized savior could even get to his confrontation. For their efforts, they were ostracized; Remus for being a werewolf and Severus for bearing the Dark Mark. No matter how much Potter had protested that both Remus and Snape were war heroes and had ensured the survival of wizarding kind as they knew it, the Wizengamot and the world at large seemed to want nothing to do with them. Snape had only barely escaped jail time in Azkaban for Dumbledore's death thanks to a Pensieve testimony the old man had recorded. The both of them were tired of fighting, tired of losing these small personal battles in favor of winning the larger ones. So, they decided to travel a bit. All over Europe, the Mediterranean, and finally the New World. The traveled from the East Coast to the West, never really finding the one spot that called to them as "home".
Until they saw the sun rise in Malibu.
They found a vacant lot in the Santa Monica Mountains, close enough to smell the ocean when the wind was right and secluded enough to give them their much-desired privacy. They built the house from the ground up, using specially tinted glass for most of it, so they could see the Pacific Ocean stretching out to the farthest horizon without burning out their retinas. They lived for a while off of their savings, just enjoying the view and each other. Soon, however, they both knew that they would need to do something for income. Remus had the brilliant idea to write children's stories. His Pack Tales stories - starring Wolf, Dog, Stag, and Snake - were so popular, the publisher had asked him to try his hand at young adult fiction. Severus had snorted at the first draft of Pride of Lyons, which featured three friends attending The Lyons School in New York... and suspiciously resembled Potter, Granger, and Weasley. It, however, was doing well in its third book, and R.J. Wolfe was becoming a household name, as far as pen names went.
For a while, Severus floundered with what to do for occupation. It was purely chance that, when they were looking for a photograph to go on the dust jacket of the second Pride of Lyons book, the editor had found a photograph Severus had taken. It was a simple black and white shot of Remus on the beach, half in silhouette, looking out over the water with a contented smile on his face. The editor had loved the picture so much that she not only used it for the dust jacket, she put him in contact with a professional photographer. Phinneas Blake didn't seem put off by his vitriol or his sharp tongue. In fact, Severus was rather disturbed to find the man seemed to enjoy it. He apprenticed with Phinneas for a year, learning everything the photographer knew about composition, development, even his sneakier tricks to hide blemishes without digitally altering the photograph later. Severus found it exceptionally rewarding, especially when Phinneas told him all he really needed was the connections the man could give him. Soon enough, Severus' own pen name became as popular as Remus' in its circle of magazines, models, and art critics.
Now, while Remus worked in his home study, Severus went into LA to his studio, where he made a living creating pieces of art from both living things and still life. His studio was complete with a large shooting space, a lighted table to look at negatives, and a very well appointed dark room. Models feared his temper and sharp tongue, but none could fault how he made even the tiniest blemish disappear without digitally altering the photo. Art critics loved his gritty take on urban life, refusing to sugar coat the reality. They especially liked his juxtaposition of the wealthy and the impoverished. They were doing very well for themselves, even if they were showing signs of getting older. Severus, who had cut his hair shorter, now sported two flares of white, one on each temple. Remus' hair was now completely gilt silver, and the moons bothered him more now. Even with the Wolfsbane, which Severus made in their own kitchen, the damage done by the monthly transformation left him walking with a cane, even when the moon was long past. Still, it was much better than what they had left behind in Britain.
Mornings like this were meant to be savored. Severus took a deep breath in, enjoying the view and the clean, salty air coming in from the ocean. He finished the breakfast tray and carried it into their bedroom, which shared the same, gorgeous view as the living room and kitchen. He settled the tray on the ottoman before gently laying alongside his sleeping lover. Remus was dead to the world, one hand stretched over the empty side of the bed. Severus smiled. He always did that whenever Severus slid out of bed to get breakfast ready. He let Remus doze a moment longer, gently brushing a stray lock of hair away from the relaxed face. Gingerly, he leaned down and brushed a soft kiss on the gnarled, clotted scar on Remus' shoulder, running his hand gently along the curve of his bicep. "Remus," he murmured. "C'mon, love. Wake up."
"Mmmrrrgh..." Remus grunted, his eyes scrunching. "Sev... bacon?"
Severus chuckled, kissing his temple. "Yes, you rapacious carnivore," he drawled. "That is bacon you smell. Along with eggs, sausage, and a nice, albeit small, rare steak." Remus showed more signs of life at the promise of meat. "Also toast and jam, and some good strong coffee." He watched Remus shift onto his back, blinking at the sunlight streaming in through the shades. "How do you feel?" he murmured, idly carding his fingers through Remus' hair.
"Like I got hit by a freight train," Remus muttered dryly. He smiled up at his lover, looking a bit pale. "Which is better than I felt last Moon."
Severus grunted, then helped shift Remus into a sitting position, and then settled the tray over his lap. "I'll keep fiddling with the potion." He took his own cup of coffee and toast. "You stay in bed. Use the laptop if you have any sudden bursts of creativity. Though I doubt it with as tired as you seem to be."
Remus paused from tucking into his rather large breakfast. "Don't you need to be in the studio today?" he asked.
Severus smirked. "If I'm late, I'll blame traffic and take out my temper on the models. They seem to enjoy the abuse."
Remus chuckled, resuming his interest in breakfast. "I can't understand the attraction American women have for mean, British men. They fall all over that chef on that reality show..."
Severus purred, leaning in to nip and nuzzle at Remus ear. "You should understand it... completely..." Remus shivered, a slight, breathless moan slipping between his lips. Severus smirked, nuzzling him a little more. "Should I let you finish your breakfast?" he murmured, sliding his hand along the inside of Remus' thigh. "Or shall we sate another hunger?"
"You'll be late..." Remus breathed, though he turned his head obligingly to catch Severus in a kiss. Severus merely purred, tasting and exploring his lover's mouth slowly. He would never grow tired of kissing Remus, of touching Remus, of fucking Remus. Or of Remus fucking him. He was rather fond of that. Even after all these years, he felt a flare of longing in the pit of his stomach when Remus growled softly, his hands sliding into Severus' hair and gripping his head possessively.
They were, unfortunately, interrupted by a knock on the door. Severus sighed, glaring a trifle. "Finish eating. I'll be right back." He gave Remus a slow, leisurely kiss before pulling away. He grumbled the entire way to the front door. The wards on their house was extensive, including a spell that wouldn't let a witch or wizard near the house unless they knew Remus or Severus and had been personally invited. Muggles were limited to those who needed to find them, not necessarily those who wanted to find them. So he wasn't too concerned when he opened the door, even if the man standing on the other side was almost as large as Hagrid.
"Yes?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
The rather large man smiled congenially at him, flanked by two officers of the law in uniform. "Sorry to bother you so early, pal, but we're looking for Severus Snape?" He pulled out a leather wallet, flipping it open to reveal his badge. "Detective Dick Gumshoe with major crimes."
"Is this an official inquiry?" Snape drawled. "If not, it's a rather inconvenient time at the moment. My partner is ill."
"Oh... that's a shame," Dick said, his grin dimming a little. "I really hate to be intruding, but it's part of a murder investigation... so..." The detective seemed a little flustered by Snape's attitude. Which, of course, pleased Severus immensely.
"Very well," he grumbled, opening the door. "I'll expect you to keep it short, however, out of consideration..." The detective all but fell over himself assuring Snape they would be finished shortly.
"It's just a couple of routine questions, that... wow." He stopped, staring at the wall of windows. "That is some view. The house is gorgeous, really. Don't think I've..." Thankfully, he caught Snape's slight glare. "Oh. Sorry. We'll don't want to keep you too long if your wife is sick."
"My, that would be embarrassing."
Snape rolled his eyes and turned to glare at Remus, who was standing in the doorway and leaning heavily on his cane. "You should be in bed," he muttered, walking over to give Remus a hand into one of the more comfortable chairs in the house.
"I wanted to see the commotion," Remus said equably, smiling at the flabbergasted detective. "Please, excuse Severus. He tends to fuss after I've had an episode."
"Prerogative," Severus grumbled fondly, sitting beside Remus on the armrest.
Dick blinked for a moment, flushed, before he coughed to continue the line of questioning. "Ah... sorry. Erm... I understand that... um... you know how to get in touch with Ethan Prince?"
...the man could not be that dimwitted. "I am Ethan Prince," Severus drawled. Clearly, the detective was that dimwitted, since he blinked in confusion.
Remus chuckled. "Ethan Prince is Sev's pseudonym," he explained politely. "He likes to keep his private life out of the public eye."
Dick nodded, making a quick note. "I see. So, you know Matthew Hywel?"
Severus snorted. "Yes, I know the man," he drawled, crossing his arms over his chest. "An upstart photographer who considers himself my nemesis. As if that insignificant peon were a sort of rival for my work..."
Dick looked at him very seriously. "Matthew Hywel was found dead this morning at his gallery. One that, I believe, the two of you are sharing for an upcoming show?"
Severus' chest tightened slightly. "Hywel is dead?" he asked, noticing how Remus paled. Oh yes, he could understand the reaction quite well. They'd be down this particular path before. And he didn't like the look that the detective was giving him. Oh, serious, yes. Very professional. But there was that shadow, that hint that the good detective had already made up his mind about Severus' guilt or innocence.
"Yeah. Let me tell you, pal," Gumshoe said, leaning forward. "I seen a lot of murders in my time, but this? This is just... weird. So." He grinned a little. "You mind telling me where you were last night?"
Severus felt his jaw clench. He glared at the detective, but answered anyway. "I was here, at home, all night."
"And your partner can verify that?" the detective asked, glancing at Remus. Remus was already nodding eagerly, his mouth opening to say that of course, he knew that Severus had stayed the whole time...
"No." Dick and Remus both stared at him, their mouths hanging open ever so slightly. Severus sighed, looking levelly at the detective. "No, he can't. Remus suffers from a chronic condition. Last night, he suffered an episode of that condition which rendered him incapable of leaving bed and largely incognizant for most of the night. He can't accurately state that I didn't leave the house last night."
"I know he didn't leave the house!" Remus said, glaring at his lover. "Severus is my primary care giver during those episodes. He wouldn't leave me for a quake or a fire, he certainly wouldn't leave to go and murder some would-be rival he doesn't even care about!"
Dick looked at them intently for a moment, thinking. He was about to open his mouth, when his cell phone went off. "Scuze me a moment..." He stood up and walked off into a corner of the room, talking to whomever was on the line in hushed, quiet tones.
"What are you doing?" Remus hissed, grabbing Snape's wrist. "I know you didn't leave last night..."
"How exactly would you prove that, Remus?" Severus whispered back. "By saying that you smelled me the whole night? He will require some sort of proof. We don't have the type of muggle security system that will tell us when someone enters or leaves the house, or who enters or leaves the house. And we can't show them whatever the wards may have picked up. There is no physical proof that I didn't leave the house, other than what Moony can tell them. And Moony slept a good deal last night."
"We can think of something..." Remus broke off, seeing Dick murmur something to the other officers. The detective turned and walked over to them. "Detective Gumshoe..."
"Mister Snape? I'm sorry, but you'll have to come with me."
"What?!" Remus stood up shakily, grabbing onto Severus. "No! There's been a mistake. He hasn't done anything..."
"We have a witness that places him at the scene of the crime and hard evidence to prove he was at the crime scene," Dick said, almost sounding excited. Severus sneered at him, then stood up.
"Severus..." Remus tried to grab at him, even while Dick was handcuffing him. Severus leaned in and kissed him, trying to calm his lover.
"Remus, listen," he said quietly. "Find an attorney, a good one. Bring him to the Detention Center in LA. We'll discuss things then."
"Severus... I don't understand..." He looked confused, lost, and hurt...
Severus fought Dick's grip momentarily, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to the werewolf's temple. "Everything will be fine," he murmured. "I didn't leave you in Britain... I'm not about to leave you now."
Remus fierce, quick nod gave him hope. He just prayed it would hold out until the trial.
~*~*~
Day One: Investigation January 14, The Law Office of Wright & Co.
The Law Office of Wright & Co. was having a reunion of sorts.
After their last notorious case, Maya Fey had gone back to Kurain village to resume her Spirit Medium training. She had returned to LA to visit with Phoenix, and promptly upon entering the office declared that Phoenix needed a lunch break. She then laughingly dragged him down to the burger joint around the corner for enough burgers, fries, onion rings and sodas to feed a small army. Which, considering Maya's love of hamburgers, and her claim to have a separate stomach for just her favorite food, wasn't too far off the mark. Phoenix smiled, watching as he ate with enthusiasm. He was glad to see her back. After the Edgeworth murder trial, and oh hadn't that been a fun experience, Phoenix had been left on his own to deal with the sudden influx of clients. The press had dubbed him the Turnabout Prince after he put not one, but two murderers in jail in the same trial. Neither of which had been his actual client, Miles Edgeworth. Many of the clients were people Phoenix would have preferred not to defend. Thank God for plea bargains. Most, though, were people who thought their cases were hopeless at best and impossible at worst. Individuals whom no one believed. People who needed someone to believe in their innocence.
That was where Phoenix came in.
"So," Maya asked, popping a french fry into her mouth. "Have you heard from Mr. Edgeworth recently?"
Phoenix rolled his eyes. "Prosecutor Edgeworth has been working on reclaiming his perfect record, no doubt." Although that wasn't exactly true. His own trial had seemed to mellow the Demon Prosecutor. He was prone to thoughtful glances now, and it didn't seem to upset him quite so much when he lost. "He's probably got more on his plate than talking to me outside of court." Even if I would have really liked that... He finished up his own hamburger, tossing the wrapper into the paper sac they were using as a garbage bag for the moment. "How is your training going? Getting better?"
Maya nodded. "Yeah. Well... a little." She blushed. "Seems I'm better at seeing ghosts and reading auras than actually channeling them. Sis is the only one I can get a hold of for any length of time. Although, my teachers think it's just because I'm out of practice. They think I'll get better in time. Oh!" Maya dug around in the pockets of her robes, frowning. "I almost forgot. Mia wanted me to give you this... aha!" She pulled out a piece of jade that could easily fit in the palm of his hand, carved into what looked like the right half of a yin yang. It tingled a little against his skin, the pale green of the stone seeming to glow faintly. "It's a magatama. It'll let you know if someone is lying to you by showing you their psyche locks. If you present the magatama to them, and then present evidence that you know what that person is lying about, you'll break their psyche locks and will be forced to tell you the truth."
Phoenix's eyebrows rose, and he trailed his fingertip over the outer curve of the magatama. It was warm under his touch. "And... Mia wanted me to have it?"
Maya nodded slowly. "Mia said it might come in handy."
Phoenix nodded, looking at the little jewel in his hand. If anyone else had heard that discussion, they would have thought that Maya was insane. After all, Mia Fey had died four months ago, in September. This wasn't the first time that Mia had helped him out after her death. She had been able to channel through Maya to talk to him, to help him with some cases. Even talk to him personally, when Maya wasn't strong enough to make the connection. She had been the reason he had been able to place Manfred von Karma at the murder scene where Miles' father had been killed. And she was the reason he was such a good defense attorney.
He wasn't about to look a gift from Mia in the mouth. He tucked the magatama in his pocket and smiled. "We'll have to see how well it works, won't we?" Maya nodded, finishing up her fourth hamburger. "Let's get this mess cleaned up. Then we can hit the mall or the arcade for a bit. How does that-"
The knock on the door interrupted them. When Phoenix called to come in, an elderly gentleman opened the door. No, not elderly. The silver hair drawn back in a neat ponytail and the way he leaned on his cane made Phoenix think elderly, but the face told of someone who was in the prime of his middle age. The caramel colored trousers and red sweater overtop a crisp, white shirt spoke of someone who was comfortably well off, as well as someone who hadn't lived in Los Angeles all their lives. Although, it was appropriate for the cooler January weather. "I'm sorry to intrude," he said, the British accent unmistakable. "But I understand that you might be able to help me?"
"Ohmigosh!" Maya inhaled, almost choking on the mouthful of food she was hastily trying to swallow. She stared at the man with huge, awestruck eyes. "R.J. Wolfe! You're R.J. Wolfe! I don't believe it!"
Mr. Wolfe blushed slightly. "Ah... yes..."
"Oh! Oh! Oh! Can you sign my copy of Pride of Lyons? It's in my bag in the other room!" She didn't wait for Mr. Wolfe to answer before bolting to get the book, squealing in glee.
Phoenix smiled wryly. "I'm sorry. Maya is a bit... excitable." He stood up, clearing off the desk. "Won't you sit down, Mr. Wolfe?"
"Oh, please," the gentleman smiled, limping slightly as he approached. "R.J. Wolfe is my pen name. Please, call me Remus. Remus Lupin." Phoenix gave a slight snort of amusement as he shook Remus' hand. "Ah. I see you know your Latin."
"Only enough to get me into trouble," Phoenix answered, gesturing for Remus to sit. He settled himself in his own seat just in time for Maya to burst into the room with her book, which she pressed into his hands. Smiling, albeit embarrassed by her enthusiasm, Remus signed the book for her. It gave Phoenix a moment or two to look over his prospective client. A man in middle years, to be sure. The lines at his mouth and eyes were deep, and spoke not only of joy but also of intense suffering and pain. As if the two had balanced each other out in some way. He didn't seem one to get into fights, despite the three silvery-white scars arching across his face. They looked similar to scars from an animal attack. It was obvious that there was something wrong with the man's limbs, as he leaned heavily on the cane. The cane was interesting, in that instead of the usual silver, the handle was made of a type of heavy glass shaped in a wolf's head. He didn't seem to be anything more than he appeared: a gentle, kind children's author.
Then he turned and looked Phoenix in the eye. Phoenix felt a slight chill looking into those amber eyes, as if he were under the intense scrutiny of a predator.
Phoenix managed a slight smile. "Well... you don't seem like the type to be accused of murder, which is our usual bill of fare. What seems to be the problem?"
Remus smiled sadly. "No, I don't, do I?" He took a moment, running his thumb over the curve of the cane handle. "Do you know a photographer by the name of Ethan Prince?"
Maya was nodding already. "He's done some fabulous magazine spreads!" she exclaimed. "He even did one for The Pink Princess television show! I've got it tacked up on my wall back at home. It's beautiful work."
Remus nodded. "He also does art shows. His photography is becoming quite popular." He was quiet for a moment. "Ethan Prince is my partner, Severus Snape's, nom de plume, so to speak. His pseudonym for his work."
Maya blinked. "I didn't know your editor took photographs as well," she said.
Phoenix resisted the urge to smack his palm against his forehead. He didn't manage to check an embarrassed wince. "Not that kind of partner, Maya," he muttered.
Maya blinked again, then her eyes widened. "...oh..."
Remus chuckled warmly, smiling. "Sev is a very private person," he explained. "He likes to keep our private life just that: private. When we realized that our work might bring us into the public eye, we chose names to use so that we could lead a quiet life." He was quiet for a moment. "Sev was arrested this morning. For the murder of Matthew Hywel."
Phoenix pulled out a pad and pen, jotting down notes. "Who is Matthew Hywel and why would the police believe that your partner is guilty of it?"
Remus took a breath. "The owner of an art gallery in town, a Miss Meg Erinyes, contacted both Sev's and Mr. Hywel's agents, asking for a joint show." He shook his head. "It's... well it struck me as rather odd. Hywel and Sev have... similar styles, I suppose. Although they're very very different in many respects. That and Hywel considered himself Sev's nemesis. The little ponce was right irritating about it, to. Constantly comparing his work to Sev's, even when there was no comparison."
"They weren't friendly then?" Maya prompted. Phoenix had to grin. Maya was pretty good at this questioning thing, even if she did sometimes stumble in other areas.
"Oh goodness no," Remus said ruefully. "There would be dreadful rows. Hywel seemed intent on making Sev lose his temper. Which, unfortunately, is already short to begin with. Most of their disagreements were verbal. Hywel would shout and Sev would reply." Remus smiled a little. "Sev's most feared weapon is his vocabulary. He was an academic before he became a photographer. And he's adept at using words to wound his opponents." He was quiet for a moment, his lips pursed. "There was only one time that I can remember, where I think it might have escalated to a physical altercation if no one had intervened."
"What happened that one time?" Phoenix knew that this could easily be construed into a motive. Professional jealousy, explosive temperaments... yeah. Been there. Those kind of situations never ended well. The prosecution would harp on those points.
Remus smiled sadly. "I'm afraid Mr. Hywel made some rather derogatory remarks about me."
...and the victim had dragged his rival's gay lover into the equation. Fantastic. "Mr. Lupin, you understand that the prosecution will use that as evidence of a motive?"
Remus nodded. "I understand. You have to believe, though," he said, leaving forward. "Sev didn't care about Hywel. There are very few people that Sev respects enough to care what they say or think about him. He reacted to Hywel's remarks because he and I have a shared history. He's protective of me, and I of him. But Sev didn't need to kill Hywel. He wouldn't kill Hywel for mere insults."
Phoenix tipped his head, frowning. "Can you think of a situation where he might do such a thing?"
Remus smiled sadly. "If he believed he had no other choice. That is the only time, I think, he would ever conceivably kill anyone."
"I see. Do you know where the murder took place? And when?" If this went like the usual cases he had, the defendant wasn't going to have an alibi. Worse yet, some of his defendants had actually been at the scene of the crime.
"Last night," Remus supplied. "In the gallery. I'm afraid I don't know much more than that about the actual murder. I do know, however, that Sev was with me the entire night. He didn't leave the house at any time."
"Why didn't you tell the police?" Maya asked, eyes wide. "Detective Gumshoe usually listens to things like that."
"I tried," Remus huffed, showing the first signs of irritation Phoenix had seen. "Sev wouldn't let me." He nodded at Maya's astounded "Whaaaaat?!" "I suffer from a chronic condition, you see. It's why I walk with a cane. Last night I had a flare up, an episode that left me unable to leave the house, or even my bed at points. During such times, Sev is my primary care giver. He wouldn't leave me while I was so incapacitated. ...however," Remus sighed, frowning. "I was incognizant for a good part of last night, so I can't, as Sev puts it, accurately state that I'm positive Sev was with me the entire time. I know it," he said again, tapping his chest, "here, but I can't prove it. Before he arrested Sev, Detective Gumshoe said that they had a witness and decisive evidence."
Phoenix nodded, thinking. He thought Remus was telling the truth. And from what he said, there wasn't a whole lot of reason for Mr. Snape to kill the victim. Still... there was no proof that he didn't kill the man in question. He needed to see that evidence... and get a hold of that witness. Which meant they would need to talk to Mr. Snape and visit the crime scene. "Detective Gumshoe always says that he has an eyewitness and decisive evidence," Phoenix drawled. "He hates it when I cause a huge kerfluffle that shows his witness is lying and the evidence is wrong."
Maya grinned. "He does that a lot." Remus chuckled.
"There is, however, one thing that's worrying me." Phoenix sat back in his chair, regarding Remus for a moment. "Please understand that I believe you, I do. I also know the prosecutor most likely to be assigned to such a high profile case as this. Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth is almost obsessively attentive to detail. He is dedicated to a fault. He will find whatever evidence he needs to get a conviction. But you haven't lived in the states for all your life. Can you tell me; is there anything in your past that might implicate Mr. Snape? Anything that might have happened in Britain?"
Remus' eyebrow rose slightly. He ran his fingers over the handle of his cane, and then looked down at the wolf's head, as if it held the answers. "It's true that Sev and I left Britain under something of a cloud..." he murmured. "There were too many bad memories in that place. We came here to leave that life behind. To make a new start together."
Maya's eyes teared up at the obviously romantic implications. Phoenix turned it over in his head. What wasn't the other man telling him? And what might Edgeworth find if he went digging into the two men's past across the Atlantic? He leaned forward, trying to phrase his next words gently. "Have either of you been in this sort of trouble before?" he murmured softly.
Remus looked up at him, blinking in astonishment. "...no," he said. "No, of course not."
Phoenix nearly fell out of his chair.
The moment that the words left Remus' mouth, his vision grayed to a photo negative of what it had been. Everything but Remus was blacked out, so that the man sitting in front of him stood out in clear lines and sharp colors. Thick, heavy chains seemed to appear out of nowhere, circling and caging Remus. With loud, metallic pops, eight bright red padlocks appeared on the chains, locking them into place. ...what the hell is this?! Phoenix thought, staring wide-eyed at what he was seeing. Could... could this be the magatama working? If it is... then those are the psyche locks... and that means that Remus is lying about it! ...but I have no proof. And I'm going to need a lot of proof to break those psyche locks... I'll have to wait and see what happens during the investigation.
"Phoenix?" Maya's voice and her hand on his shoulder broke the magatama's spell, making the vision disappear. "Nick? You alright?"
"Yeah," Phoenix murmured distantly, aware that Remus was staring at him curiously. "Sorry. Felt... erm... felt a little dizzy for a moment..."
Remus reached into his pocket and pulled out a foil wrapped square of chocolate. "Here," he said, smiling. "This will help." Phoenix was extremely surprised when it did, actually, seem to calm him down quite considerably. It cleared his head, letting him think.
"Th-thank you!" Phoenix said, smiling. Remus merely chuckled. "Ok. So. If we're going to prove Mr. Snape didn't do this," Which I still believe... even if you are lying to me about something that happened in Britain, "we're going to have to do some serious investigation. They probably are still questioning Mr. Snape, so let's go to the scene of the crime first."
Remus nodded. "I can show you the way. And, if you don't mind," he asked, tipping his head to the side, "I'd like to offer my assistance. I may see something you don't."
Phoenix paused for a moment. ...if there is something going on, something that followed them from Britain... he'd be the only one to know. "Alright."
"Me too, Nick!" Maya exclaimed, clapping. "It'll be like old times!"
"Right," Phoenix said, smiling. "Just like old times."
**For those who haven't played PW, a "turnabout" is when the main character pulls a Perry Mason/Matlock-esque move and gets the actual murderer to confess on the stand. The titles of each episode in the PW games has the word Turnabout in it somewhere. The title is both an allusion to that, as well as a play on Snape's mother's maiden name. ...plus in my headcanon, Phoenix gets the monicker Turnabout Prince. ...hey, if Manfred von Karma gets to be the Demon God Prosecutor, the 24 year old kid who sent him to jail should get a nifty nick name too!