Disclaimer: Gyakuten Saiban/Ace Attorney belongs to Capcom (those bitches).
This is my headcanon. I hate my headcanon.
One day, Apollo offered to buy Phoenix a new cellphone. Because really, when it came to the point where the phone was being held together with tape, most people would have started thinking about replacing it a long time ago.
It was for this reason that Phoenix's reaction was unexpected.
"No need, Apollo," Phoenix had answered nonchalantly. "My phone works just fine."
"Mr. Wright, it's being held together with tape," Apollo pointed out. "If that's not an indication of something reaching the end of its lifespan, I don't know what is. What if it finally gives up the ghost right when you really need it?"
"I'll just borrow someone else's. But this ghost isn't going anywhere. Even if it chooses death, it'll come back."
At which point Apollo stopped pressing the point because when it came to Phoenix Wright, sometimes it was best to just give up.
"Wright, I don't believe... I can't believe you... you stooped to levels that even I would never have willingly stooped to."
"I didn't, I was set up, don't you see?"
"No I don't see. Don't try to make excuses."
"I think I know who did it, but I need your help. Please, help me."
"You were caught in the act, and now seek to place the blame on an innocent. You disgust me. I will not help you."
Apollo knew that if anyone knew why Phoenix was so bizarrely attached to his phone, it would be Trucy. If he was expecting her to help him conspire to get Phoenix a new phone however, he was sorely mistaken.
"Daddy won't get a new phone, and you can't make him. You might as well give up Polly."
"Yes but why?" Apollo insisted as he organized his files, Trucy 'helping'. "Why does he insist on using such an old, beat-up phone?"
"I dunno. You'd have to ask him."
There. "You're lying."
Trucy did not have the sense to look sheepish about being caught. "Okay, so I only mostly don't know. I've got a guess, but I might be wrong so I don't want to tell you. Besides, it's Daddy's life. He's entitled to his secrets."
Apollo was of the opinion that Phoenix had far too many secrets, and he was most certainly not entitled to that many.
"I am of the understanding that you were the only member of the Bar Association to vote against Phoenix Wright's disbarment. May I inquire as to why?"
"Funny. I am of the understanding that you have cut all ties with Mr. Wright following said disbarment. Why so interested all of a sudden?"
"Curiosity. It just seems so unlike him. I am just satisfying my own curiosity as to what would drive him to do such a thing."
"Really? It seems to me you have a much more personal interest. Perhaps you are really wondering what other evidence Mr. Wright may have forged? Do not worry though, as that is why I voted against his disbarment. Like you said, it seems so unlike him that it cannot possibly be a habit. There is always the possibility that there is more to the situation than meets the eye."
"Indeed. You understand my motives far too well."
It was a quiet evening at the Wright Anything Agency. Phoenix was at the Borscht Bowl Club killing ears and Trucy was at the Wonder Bar doing her magic show. Apollo was taking the chance to organize his files because really, sometimes it felt like all he had to do was blink and half of them would end up on the other side of the room mixed in with Trucy's props and the other half would be inside the piano. He spotted a few wayward files scattered across the coffee table and, with a long-suffering sigh, gathered them up.
Underneath them was Phoenix's cellphone. Apollo groaned. To deliver the phone, or not to deliver the phone? Would the world end if Phoenix missed an important call? Did Phoenix even get important calls?
Then suddenly Apollo could almost picture the little Apollo-devil popping into existence on his shoulder. Here's your chance to find out why the phone is so special. Little Apollo-angel didn't even bother to make an appearance, as Apollo had already set the files aside and snatched up the phone.
The first thing he did was scroll through the contacts, though he didn't pay much attention to them. After all, contacts were easily transferable. Next was text messages, though that didn't reveal anything either. A few from him, a few from Trucy, a few from other people. Nothing important.
Which left Apollo confused. If it wasn't contacts, and it wasn't text messages, then what was it? Apollo knew it couldn't be messages from missed calls, as Phoenix deleted them almost religiously. Apollo doubted there even were any on the phone.
There was one. Apollo hesitated. The time-stamp was from several years ago... seven, in fact. From about a month or so after Phoenix's disbarment. Was it more evidence against Kristoph Gavin? The final nail in the coffin that, in the end, had been unnecessary?
Apollo shook his head. No, it couldn't be that. If it were, Phoenix would have no qualms about getting a new phone now that everything was over. But still, Apollo couldn't manage to convince himself that it was unrelated. And... he was involved, right? So if it was related, he had a right to know, really.
Apollo pressed the button, then lifted the phone to his ear to listen.
"You were right, Wright, and don't you dare make a joke about that. You were right, I was wrong, and I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I hope you can find it in yourself to forgive me for what I said, even though I know I don't deserve it. You've already forgiven me far more times than I'm entitled to. You were right, and I'm ready to help you. I've uncovered something that I'd like to talk to you in person about. I'll be at your office later tonight, around nine o'clock. I've found a thread, and the more I pick at it the more everything falls apart. With what I've found, I think we can get the person who set you up. I'm sorry, Wright. For everything."
Apollo's hand was shaking as he slowly set the phone down. Obviously, whatever the person thought they had hadn't been enough, otherwise Kristoph would have been in jail a long time ago. Either that or what they'd found had been faked, pointing at someone else.
Overall, however, the tone of the message had been far more personal than Apollo had expected. And more importantly, if this person had been helping Phoenix, then who was he, and where was he now?
"Out for an evening stroll?"
"Mr. Gavin. I see you are as well."
"Oh, how the mighty have fallen."
"I am referring to yourself and Mr. Wright, of course. The unstoppable forces for truth, pulled out of the race."
"I am afraid I do not understand how exactly I have fallen, as you so put it."
"Oh, it hasn't happened yet. But you will."
"Was that a threat, Mr. Gavin?"
"Let's talk plainly, shall we? You know, and I know you know. Obviously, this state of affairs cannot remain so. One of us will end the other. The only thing that matters is who gets to the other first."
"If you think you can touch me, you are sorely mistaken Gavin."
"You're wrong. Look around you. I've already gotten to you."
"And what do you mean by-... Gavin, this isn't worth it. Nothing is worth a record. Murder is not worth a record."
"Who says this is about a record?"
"Come now, stay still. Fall with... dignity!"
"There we go."
"...God... damn you... Gavin."
"We'll see who wins in the end... nnff! You really aren't going down without a fight, are you? Nothing for it. Three is the magic number, after all."
"Sleep now, and let the living worry about the problems of the living."
Apollo had gotten the name of the man from the contacts list. It was not one he'd recognized as having seen before, and so he'd pulled out his laptop to see if anything popped up on the web.
Upon clicking a news link, he found out exactly why he'd never heard of the man before.
Man Found Dead, Foul Play Suspected
Early this morning Miles Edgeworth, employed at the Prosecutor's Office, was found dead. The cause of death was three stab wounds to the chest, and police suspect foul play. Investigation is ongoing, and the police currently have no suspects.
The brief went on to mention the man's work as a prosecutor, a connection to Phoenix, and a plea for anyone with any information to come forward. The date on the brief was the day after the missed call.
Apollo quietly closed the window. Yes, it was related to Kristoph. But he decided that he really didn't need to know any more.
"Kristoph, what happened to your hand?"
"Oh, this. As soon as that old scar is finally starting to fade, I get clumsy with a kitchen knife. I guess that is my lot in life. I am far too perfect without any sort of disfigurement. But my hand is unimportant; I hear they found Miles Edgeworth's body. My condolences."
"Yes, well, that ship had sailed. Our friendship did not survive my disbarring."
"Still, you were friends, and that is what matters. The chance to reconcile has been cruelly ripped from you, and for that I am sorry."
"Yes. For that I am sorry as well."
"A cruel thing, fate. We twist and tumble through life, everything playing a part in the development of the situation at hand, then suddenly out of the blue a wild card appears."
"Some games are played with wild cards to be expected. They do exist for a reason, you know."
"This is quite true."
"Apollo, can I ask you a question?"
Apollo jumped a mile at the sound of Phoenix's voice. A week later, he still felt slightly guilty about looking through his phone. "What, Mr. Wright?"
Phoenix's posture told of a curious lazy afterthought, but his eyes said differently. "What was Kristoph Gavin's tell? If you don't mind me asking."
"Oh, that." Apollo set down the pen he had been writing with. "The muscles in his hand tensed up. With the scar on the back of his hand, it made a creepy little face, like a devil, or a demon." He held up his hand and started flexing his fingers back and forth, as if trying to replicate it.
He was quickly distracted by Phoenix's smile, equal parts bitter and sad. "Of course the demon pointed out the truth," he murmured, practically inaudible.
"I'm sorry, what?"
Phoenix's smile brightened. "Nothing, Apollo. Just an old man's musings on life's whims."
And that's why Miles Edgeworth wasn't in GS4. You know it's possible! *hides*