((A.N:// To avoid confusion, I'm signing all of my Phoenix Wright fanfictions off with my CR username, too.

For whatever reason, I decided not to refer to Godot by either of his names except once in this morbid little fic of mine. AND IT SHALL HAVE CHAPTERS. OH YES, YES IT SHALL. Not that many, mind you, but I swear on the Bible of Gant RAEP that it shall! :B))

My Medicine

A fanfiction by: Public Pervert/xMr.Tritex

The endless sighing coming from the white-haired man filled the empty rooms of his apartment like a lone ghost. Rooms that, not so long ago yet seemed like an eternity ago, were once filled to the brim with laughter and jazz music blasting from the large black speakers that the man purchased right after he had won his first case as a defense attorney. A defense attorney…something that he had loved being. Along with her. His kitten. His Mia.

His Mia. Those lovely brown eyes the color of a latte and her hair, silky like the white, pure milk that he poured into his favorite beverage- Although he liked it dark, a little milk didn't hurt every now and then. Sometimes, in the harsh, black, sleepless nights where he blindly twisted and turned in his sheets, he could feel her soft, tempting lips against his own and her perfectly slim hands running through his messy stands of dark brown. They would often talk themselves to sleep; sometimes she'd laugh or cry as she told him about what had happened to her that day, or even recollect memories from her childhood.

And now? Now, now it was all gone.

The man, sitting on the wooden floor of his apartment, rested his head on the arm of his black leather couch, a small lump forming inside of his throat as his memories flooded him like a tsunami. He pushed the feeling to cry away, gripping at the green sleeves that made up his shirt; He had cried his tears. He didn't need them anymore. After all, he had something better than tears now. Much better.

He reached under the black couch blindly- Which was quite a literal description. His metallic visor lay on the well-used coffee table directly across from him, glaring at him coldly as he searched. "Look at yourself." It seemed to spit at him, "Look at what you've become. Pathetic. Is it any wonder why you lost her, Diego?" The older man retorted with a "Shut up." To speak to his visor seemed insane, yes, but it was comforting to take his anger out on something that wasn't himself every once and a while. However, the visor's cold words were soon to mean nothing to him as a thin smile curled onto his lips, his hands gripping onto the thin box he had been searching for this whole time, sliding it closer to the light of his apartment.

He uncovered the turquoise green box in a rush, removing it's contents, his heaven- A painful looking needle and a powdery white substance in a bag were present in the box, along with a small container of a pale yellow liquid- lemon juice. Also present was a spoon, a lighter and a cigarette filter. The tan man had already prepared a glass of water- not much bigger than a shot glass- and a black leather belt. Placing the box on the table, the man reached for his visor, placing it over his eyes as best he could for a split second- The world suddenly sharpening and becoming clear to him, gaining everything back except the color red. Ah, red- his favorite color.

Almost immediately, the man opened the bag containing the power, placing it on the spoon in the measurement he normally wanted- No, he decided. Needed After that, squirts of the lemon juice and water were placed onto the same spoon, acting as a citric acid of sorts. Flicking the lighter open, the white-haired prosecutor placed the metal utensil over the source of heat, the warmth of the flame reminding him of his once young heart, his love flaring whenever he saw her. No time for that now he decided. He was a man on a mission. Plus, he'd have her back soon.

Once the substances were completely mixed, the man placed the cigarette filter onto the spoon, removing the spoon away from the flame. Lifting the needle, he placed the filter and its contents onto the syringe. Taking the belt, he tied it firmly around his arm, wincing in pain as he tightened the leather belt. Before doing anything else, he brought the visor off of his face, discarding it beside it, forever wishing it he could one day do that and still be able to see. Permanently. As for the time being, he wouldn't need the thing anymore, or at least not for a while.

He shut his eyes as he brought the needle closer to his arm, giving out a shaky breath as the cool sting of the needle brought itself present in all of its familiarity- It had been months now since he had first prescribed The Medicine to himself, and the injection process didn't hurt nearly as much as it had the first time. However, this didn't stop the few tears that dropped from his blank eyes as his mind went hazy, the symptoms of taking The Medicine starting up.

Please, he prayed mentally, the cool droplets making a dripping noise once they hit the smooth wood flooring on his apartment,

Please bring my Kitten back to me.