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Description
Red LED numbers flashed to the time of a steady beep. He fumbled around to find the plastic box emitting the noise and slammed his hand on the largest button. The clock silenced itself as he continued to reach around the bedside table. His hands landed on a visor and he placed it against his face.  It clicked into place and he fumbled for a moment to find the switch.

As he clicked the device on, the hazy outlines of his room slowly came into focus. There was a warm light in front of his face; the color indistinguishable to him. He threw his black sheets off his body as his vision finally steadied. He grumbled as he reached for a cellular phone on his bedstand to check the time. No matter how many new clocks he bought, they were all broken when he brought them home – or so he thought.

He rose from his bed and headed toward his dresser where a framed photo sat. Her smile was wide and her eyes alive with joy. She was snuggled up to a man who smiled warmly; a white mug in one hand, the other wrapped around the brunette's slender body.

"Good morning Kitten."

The first sense that returned to him was scent; the faint smell of a cheap store brand brew was what woke him from his coma. Then he felt pain, a tube down his throat. His lips were chapped and dry. The taste of plastic was next. Finally, he heard the beeping of machines around him. He slowly opened his eyes, but no light flooded in.

Nothing came into focus. Everything was black; as if he had never opened his eyes. He heard the sound of pencil writing against paper. Someone was here.

"Mia..." he muttered and fell into a fit of coughs. "Mia?" He called again.

The writing stopped suddenly. He heard footsteps, much louder than he ever had before, come closer to him. He struggled to raise his upper body and suddenly heard a gasp.

"Doctor!" called the young nurse as she raced out of the room.

He opened the door to his closet and fumbled through numerous shirts on hangers. His hands graced a silk garment in the back of his closet. He pulled the hanger closer to him to see a long blue dress hanging limply off a hanger. He held it in front of him for a moment, remembering the body that once filled the wilted fabric.  It quickly made its way back to the depths of the closet; Diego finally settling on a white dress shirt. He tossed it on the bed, quickly grabbing both a pair of slacks and black tie from his closet.

He dressed himself quickly, and headed to the kitchen of his condo. There, he started a larger brewer on his counter. He placed a mug by the brewer and headed to the bathroom. He opened an orange prescription bottle that rested on the sink; popping the pill into his mouth and swallowing. The discharging doctor had prescribed them for pain, but they didn't seem to help. The machine's humming grew silent and he took the freshly made pot and poured himself a mug of the brew.

His sense of hearing seemed to be heightened due to his lack of sight. He heard 4 pairs of feet against the tile of his hospital room as a doctor and nurses came rushing in.

"When did he wake?" He heard a deep voice ask.

"I'm not sure," replied the nurse who had been in his room earlier. "I heard him mutter a name, then he went into a coughing fit."

He tried to speak again, but it only came out coughs. "How are his vitals?" The doctor asked.

A new voice began talking. "He's stabilized quite a bit."

"He has no next of kin."

Finally, he found his voice again. "Mia," another coughing fit. "Contact Mia Fey." He couldn't believe the doctor's didn't know that. Surely, she had been there.

He heard footsteps as the medical personnel began to whisper. Diego Armando strained to hear their conversation, but could catch only pieces, nothing that he could make into anything coherent. Regardless, Mia would be there when her work day was done, there was no doubt in that.

He opened the newspaper from the morning as he drank from his third mug of Blend #102.  A young defense attorney graced the front of the Justice section; an embarrassed grin across his lips. There was a young girl with him dressed in traditional clothes; a large charm hanging from her neck.

A large familiar charm.

"Maya?" He muttered as he read on about the lawyer they called Phoenix Wright. He read about his past year of defense trails and how he always seemed to pull a win out even when things were bleak. He read about how he had taken over his former boss' law office after her brutal murder.

What was once Fey & Co. was now Wright & Co. Law Offices.

He threw the newspaper to the ground in disgust, and ran his fingers through his white hair. "Why even let me live if she's not here?" he questioned aloud. He rubbed his temples, trying to ease the pains that the drugs didn't.

Frustrated, he downed the remainder of his coffee and marched toward the front door of his condo. He grabbed a long trench coat from the coat rack along with a scarf. He pulled his arms through the sleeves and snatched the keys from a rung by the door. He slammed the door behind him as he hurried down the hall.

"I can't see," he stated, his cloudy eyes staring off distantly. He heard the nurse chuckle, then apologize.

The doctor lifted his eyelids as he spoke. "The poison did a number on your system Diego. I'm surprised you came out of this alive."

"Why haven't you called Mia?" the man asked as the doctor released his eyelids.

Silence.

"Well?" Diego questioned. "She should have been the first damn person you contacted. If you're worried about interrupting a trial, I'm sure she'd be more concerned with knowing I'm alive."

"Diego, this isn't exactly how I wanted you to find out." A new voice had joined in, a familiar voice.

"Marvin?" The lawyer asked, turning his head toward his boss. "What are you doing here? Find out about what? Where is Mia!?" His voice was urgent.

He heard the larger man clear his throat before he finally spoke. "She was murdered Diego my boy. Redd White, he killed her a year ago."

He placed the lilacs against the white marble gravestone. He often found himself here when he felt alone, which was often these days. He ran his calloused fingers over the engraving of her name; the day of her murder. He sat there in silence as the clouds opened up and began to rain. His fingers found the switch on his mask and suddenly his world went dark as he sat at her gravestone, alone.

That's how he'd feel for the rest of his life without her.

Alone.

Description
Red LED numbers flashed to the time of a steady beep. He fumbled around to find the plastic box emitting the noise and slammed his hand on the largest button. The clock silenced itself as he continued to reach around the bedside table. His hands landed on a visor and he placed it against his face.  It clicked into place and he fumbled for a moment to find the switch.

As he clicked the device on, the hazy outlines of his room slowly came into focus. There was a warm light in front of his face; the color indistinguishable to him. He threw his black sheets off his body as his vision finally steadied. He grumbled as he reached for a cellular phone on his bedstand to check the time. No matter how many new clocks he bought, they were all broken when he brought them home – or so he thought.

He rose from his bed and headed toward his dresser where a framed photo sat. Her smile was wide and her eyes alive with joy. She was snuggled up to a man who smiled warmly; a white mug in one hand, the other wrapped around the brunette's slender body.

"Good morning Kitten."

The first sense that returned to him was scent; the faint smell of a cheap store brand brew was what woke him from his coma. Then he felt pain, a tube down his throat. His lips were chapped and dry. The taste of plastic was next. Finally, he heard the beeping of machines around him. He slowly opened his eyes, but no light flooded in.

Nothing came into focus. Everything was black; as if he had never opened his eyes. He heard the sound of pencil writing against paper. Someone was here.

"Mia..." he muttered and fell into a fit of coughs. "Mia?" He called again.

The writing stopped suddenly. He heard footsteps, much louder than he ever had before, come closer to him. He struggled to raise his upper body and suddenly heard a gasp.

"Doctor!" called the young nurse as she raced out of the room.

He opened the door to his closet and fumbled through numerous shirts on hangers. His hands graced a silk garment in the back of his closet. He pulled the hanger closer to him to see a long blue dress hanging limply off a hanger. He held it in front of him for a moment, remembering the body that once filled the wilted fabric.  It quickly made its way back to the depths of the closet; Diego finally settling on a white dress shirt. He tossed it on the bed, quickly grabbing both a pair of slacks and black tie from his closet.

He dressed himself quickly, and headed to the kitchen of his condo. There, he started a larger brewer on his counter. He placed a mug by the brewer and headed to the bathroom. He opened an orange prescription bottle that rested on the sink; popping the pill into his mouth and swallowing. The discharging doctor had prescribed them for pain, but they didn't seem to help. The machine's humming grew silent and he took the freshly made pot and poured himself a mug of the brew.

His sense of hearing seemed to be heightened due to his lack of sight. He heard 4 pairs of feet against the tile of his hospital room as a doctor and nurses came rushing in.

"When did he wake?" He heard a deep voice ask.

"I'm not sure," replied the nurse who had been in his room earlier. "I heard him mutter a name, then he went into a coughing fit."

He tried to speak again, but it only came out coughs. "How are his vitals?" The doctor asked.

A new voice began talking. "He's stabilized quite a bit."

"He has no next of kin."

Finally, he found his voice again. "Mia," another coughing fit. "Contact Mia Fey." He couldn't believe the doctor's didn't know that. Surely, she had been there.

He heard footsteps as the medical personnel began to whisper. Diego Armando strained to hear their conversation, but could catch only pieces, nothing that he could make into anything coherent. Regardless, Mia would be there when her work day was done, there was no doubt in that.

He opened the newspaper from the morning as he drank from his third mug of Blend #102.  A young defense attorney graced the front of the Justice section; an embarrassed grin across his lips. There was a young girl with him dressed in traditional clothes; a large charm hanging from her neck.

A large familiar charm.

"Maya?" He muttered as he read on about the lawyer they called Phoenix Wright. He read about his past year of defense trails and how he always seemed to pull a win out even when things were bleak. He read about how he had taken over his former boss' law office after her brutal murder.

What was once Fey & Co. was now Wright & Co. Law Offices.

He threw the newspaper to the ground in disgust, and ran his fingers through his white hair. "Why even let me live if she's not here?" he questioned aloud. He rubbed his temples, trying to ease the pains that the drugs didn't.

Frustrated, he downed the remainder of his coffee and marched toward the front door of his condo. He grabbed a long trench coat from the coat rack along with a scarf. He pulled his arms through the sleeves and snatched the keys from a rung by the door. He slammed the door behind him as he hurried down the hall.

"I can't see," he stated, his cloudy eyes staring off distantly. He heard the nurse chuckle, then apologize.

The doctor lifted his eyelids as he spoke. "The poison did a number on your system Diego. I'm surprised you came out of this alive."

"Why haven't you called Mia?" the man asked as the doctor released his eyelids.

Silence.

"Well?" Diego questioned. "She should have been the first damn person you contacted. If you're worried about interrupting a trial, I'm sure she'd be more concerned with knowing I'm alive."

"Diego, this isn't exactly how I wanted you to find out." A new voice had joined in, a familiar voice.

"Marvin?" The lawyer asked, turning his head toward his boss. "What are you doing here? Find out about what? Where is Mia!?" His voice was urgent.

He heard the larger man clear his throat before he finally spoke. "She was murdered Diego my boy. Redd White, he killed her a year ago."

He placed the lilacs against the white marble gravestone. He often found himself here when he felt alone, which was often these days. He ran his calloused fingers over the engraving of her name; the day of her murder. He sat there in silence as the clouds opened up and began to rain. His fingers found the switch on his mask and suddenly his world went dark as he sat at her gravestone, alone.

That's how he'd feel for the rest of his life without her.

Alone.