Summary: The sound of a sobbing child is enough to make Manfred Von Karma cool his anger about killing his enemy and care for the child until help arrives. Even making a simple decision can change a man to making the ultimate promise to never soil his hands with blood over a perfect record.

AU No DL-6

"H-Help! I can't breathe!" The bailiff screamed, his hands below his neck where his collar was. It was clear he was struggling to breathe.

"Quite! I said quite! You're not making this any easier!" The Defense Attorney, Gregory Edgeworth, rebuked the bailiff.

The young boy across from him was sitting across from Gregory, his father, breathing in and out in pants. He was trying not to cry, having remembered his father's words about conserving what little oxygen was left in this tiny box. Normally, this elevator, like all, weren't so airtight, but the earthquake had snapped the cables holding the elevator. Luckily, it was only from a story high from the basement floor, so no one was hurt, but a bunch of rubble had fallen on the roof of the elevator, blocking any ventilation.

The emergency button was pressed, but considering the phone was not working, there was little hope that rescue would come. It had been hours upon hours. Everyone had lost count at this point. Everyone was desperate. Everyone was losing oxygen. The young boy was scared and perhaps in shock.

"I want to get out! Help! Get us out!" The bailiff cried in agony. He was practically shaking.

"Don't shout! You'll just use up more oxygen!" Gregory warned, trying to stay calm, but even the boy knew his father was panicking.

Some moments had passed. The young boy couldn't tell how much. He was trying to conserve as much oxygen as his little tiny body could take. He was literally shaking. What was happening? Where was he? Who was he? Oh right, Miles Edgeworth. He was trapped inside the elevator with his father and the bailiff. He's trying to conserve oxygen until help arrives. It was dark, hot and full of despair. Miles only wanted to go home.

"I... I can't breathe! You... You're using up my air!" The bailiff shouted. That put Miles in alert.

"Wh-What!?" The sound of his father cried. Suddenly, there were sounds of choking Miles could hear out of his father's mouth. His eyes widened. There was barely any light, say from the two windows from the elevator door, which was now fogged.

"Stop breathing my air! I'll... I'll stop you!"

"Aaaah! Wh-What!? What are you...!?"

"Stop breathing my aaaaair!"

Miles panicked. His father was being attacked. He couldn't think, couldn't see anything else besides one dark shadow attacking the other. He saw a gun dropped before his feet. He quickly picked it up, then threw it without a second thought, slipping and falling frontwards onto the floor. The gun hit the back of the bailiff, sending him falling beside Gregory, who had already fallen unconscious from his attack. At the same moment, the gun went off, shooting with a bang.

"Uuaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaargh!" A sickly scream was heard.

All Miles could do was stare at the window with the bullet hole. There was a shadow on the other side of the elevator. Dizzily, Miles laid there as the lights turned back on before the elevator door opened. Just as it opened, Miles could no longer hold it back. He began screaming bloody murder.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!!" Miles screamed, tears rolling down as he no longer had to conserve oxygen anymore. More was coming from that open doors.

The man that was on the other side, holding onto the gunshot wound on his shoulder, stood with widened eyes and a horrific gasp. A child!? What was this!? Where were the parents. He searched around and only saw the unconscious bailiff and... Gregory Edgeworth. His anger kindled at the man that dared to soil his perfect record. Then, all too quickly, that kindled anger cooled the louder the child's screams of anguish entered his ears. He turned back to the child once more.

This child was holding onto his knees in a fetal position. The proud, Manfred Von Karma, saw the pain in the child's sobbing face that was the same as his own children when they got hurt. His face softened as he kneeled down to the young child, tugging him as he looked straight into his eyes with red, swollen ones.

"It's alright. There, there now," Manfred said tenderly, offering his handkerchief to dry out the child's tears as he sat up. "What's your name?"

"M-M-Miles... E-Edgew-w-worth," Miles sobbed. Manfred's eyes widened in surprise. This was Gregory's son? Gregory had a son? "F-Father... t-t-told me to c-conserve oxygen. I-I-It was dark and-and-and hot and-and-and he was gonna kill Father."

Manfred looked over at Gregory, his chest rising and falling as if gasping for air. He turned back to the child, saying, "Your father's fine. He's only passed out. Here, Miles..." He gave Miles his handkerchief. "Dry those tears. I know where an emergency phone is at. Stay with me and don't leave my sight while we call for help."

Miles nodded, drying out his tears as he followed Manfred to a nearby red phone. He said, "hello? There's two unconscious men in the elevator on the ground floor! ... Well, don't just stand there, send help or you'll be hearing from me!" He hung up the phone. He turned to Miles with a much softer tone. "Do you need anything? I'm certain you must be thirsty." Miles nodded, then realized something.

"Y-You're hurt. Was that my fault?" Miles asked.

"Wh- This?" Manfred asked, looking at his gunshot wound. Certainly, this child wouldn't have...

"I'm sorry. I was trying to keep the bailiff guy from hurting Father and..."

"It's just a flesh wound. It will heal in a few weeks tops. Let's get you something to drink, yes?" Manfred said, while opening a utility closet to fetch a couple of rags to press against his wound. Afterwards, he led Miles up the stairs to the first floor where a nearby snack and drink machine were located. He placed in a few bills into the drink machine, then stepped aside. "Pick any drink you want."

"Th-Thank you," Miles muttered, pressing a button as a hydration drink dropped and he took it out, then drank it. He kept gulping the drink until it was almost half empty. The poor child must've been thirsty. He looked up at the prosecutor with a bright smile. "You're very nice..." His eyes studied Manfred, then widened. "Aren't you that prosecutor guy that went up against Father today?"

"Ah um... y-yes... I am," Manfred admitted. Great! What has that man told this child about him? There was no telling. He already tarnished Manfred's record.

"Wow! You looked pretty tough in court. You must be a pretty big deal to go up against Father for a whole year. Usually it takes about a few months or something like that, though this is the first time I've seen you in court. I tried asking Father if I can help, but he always says 'don't worry son, I've got this,'" Miles said, sounding annoyed, then sighed. "I hope he's okay."

Manfred was relieved that his enemy didn't trash talk about him to his son. At the same time, the look on Miles' face was too heartbreaking to ignore. He knew that look very well. It was the same look he saw in his own children when he left for work. He gently patted the boy's head.

"Your father will be fine. It certainly will take more than a broken elevator to get rid of that man," Manfred assured, cursing himself for having to say something complimentary about his mortal enemy. He was never good when it came to children. They reminded him far too much of his own children. Just the way they looked at you with those eyes full of innocence and fear. It was too heartbreaking to see on any child no matter whose child he belonged to.

"Hahahaha that's right!" Miles laughed, drinking his hydration drink.

The patrolling officers and ambulance drivers rushed in with two stretchers. Manfred went to one of them, saying, "this child is the son of one of the unconscious men, Gregory Edgeworth."

"I see..." The Ambulance Driver nodded. "Thank you. We'll take it from here..." He stared directly at Manfred's gunshot wound that was covered in a couple of rags. "Sir, you're hurt, you-"

"Nothing to worry about. It's a minor wound. I couldn't see in the dark and cut myself with a utility knife when I fell," Manfred lied, much to Miles' shock.

"Mis-" Miles said before the Ambulance Driver cut in.

"Sir, you should get that checked!" The Ambulance Driver cried hysterically.

"I will be fine. I have a first aide for minor cut wounds such as these. Worry about the child. Be sure he's placed in proper care, until his father wakes up," Manfred ordered, snapping his fingers.

"A-Are you sure?"

"S-Sir?" Miles asked, trembling, while holding onto his drink.

"Do what the nice man says, alright. Be a good boy."

"Okay. Wait, what's your name?"

"You may call me Mr. Von Karma."

"Thank you for everything, Mr. Von Karma," Miles thanked Manfred, taking a bow before leaving with the Ambulance Driver.

Manfred sighed, walking on his way to the lobby where he left his briefcase. Inside was, indeed, a first aid. He was able to add dressing to his wound until he got home. He couldn't believe he allowed himself to show such weakness to a child. He had the opportunity to make that foolish attorney pay for making a fool out of him and lost it over a foolish child. How could he stoop so low like that!? Though, Manfred knew why.

No matter how much Manfred despised Gregory, he was still a father of a helpless little boy. Manfred had a father once, who was a football or soccer player in Germany, and lost him at such a young age. It was the most devastating part of his life that changed him forever. His father's killer was brought on trial and, at the age of 10, Manfred was brought before the trial as a witness. He testified about seeing the killer kill his father. That foolish Defense Attorney had declared him unfit to testify due to the trauma of losing his father. Because of that, his killer was given a Not Guilty verdict. Only just two days later, his father's entire team was murdered.

It was that very reason why Manfred became a Prosecutor. Never again would he allow any Defense Attorney let a criminal run free. He couldn't hurt the child's father no matter how much he hated him. How would he be any different from the one that took his own father away? Manfred Von Karma may do questionable things to gain perfect victories, but to harm this child's father would change Manfred entirely from the person he wanted to be. He may even go mad. Gregory Edgeworth was a foolish attorney and a father. There was no way Manfred would soil his hands with the blood of a father. That was one line Manfred decided he would never cross. It would be more foolish, if he was to soil his hands over a penalty. It wasn't worth it.

"Damn you, Edgeworth," Manfred muttered as he made his way out of the courthouse.

***********************

Manfred found himself in his office only a few days later. His gunshot wound was still healing, but that wasn't going to stop him from continuing to pursue this case. If he wanted to make Gregory pay for tainting his record, he would do so in court. It would take more than a mere gunshot wound to take him down! He decided he needed a weapon. If only that body was found! Blast Gregory for pointing out the fake autopsy and blast himself for not knowing about it. Of course that foolish Chief Prosecutor would set him up like this! Curses!

A knock was heard.

"I'm busy!" Manfred shouted. Another knock was heard. "What part of I'm busy do you not understand!? Who is it!?"

The door opened and, much to Manfred's surprise, it was Gregory Edgeworth himself. Detective Badd was seen behind him.

"He insisted on coming here to see you. Said it had nothing to do with the Jeffery Master Case," Detective Badd said, sucking his sucker.

"I have nothing to say to you. You already humiliated me in court. If you are here to gloat, then-" Manfred shouted angrily.

"I'm not here to gloat. There's something I want to say to you personally and in private," Gregory said.

"Heh, is that so? Give me one reason why I shouldn't kick you out."

"It's about my son, Miles."

"... Detective, you may leave," Manfred said, his voice strangely sounding much calmer.

"Pfft," Detective Badd replied, making his way out the door, then closing it behind him.

As soon as the door closed, Gregory took out a piece of paper from behind his coat, then gave it to Manfred. It was a poorly drawn picture of Manfred with the words Thank You on it. Manfred's eyebrows rose. So, that's why Gregory came.

"Miles asked me to give it to you personally. I also wanted to thank you personally for watching my son, while I had passed out," Gregory said, his voice slightly softer.

"Hmph, of course I did. What human being would leave a child crying like that? I couldn't leave the child alone without someone to watch him," Manfred replied as-a-matter-of-factually.

"You also lied about the gunshot wound on your shoulder. That one surprised me the most. You could've easily used that and press charges against me for allowing my child to use firearms."

"Pfft, you think I would do something cowardly like that?" Manfred humphed, snapping his finger. "I will not rest until I defeat you fairly in court. This case is still not done!" Of course, he wasn't going to admit that he had thoughts about taking this man's life. What Gregory had in mind could hardly scratch the surface of what could've happened.

"... I'll leave it at that then. Though, my son also said something about you that surprised me. He said you were nice. Miles isn't someone that lacks judgment of a person, thus I can't ignore what he says, especially when he tells me that you couldn't have possibly forged that autopsy report."

"And, you believe the words of a child?" Manfred smirked devilishly.

"No, I believe the words of my son. He thinks there's someone in the higher ranks that might've given you that falsified autopsy report."

"..."

"I can't leave with a good conscience, knowing that you were given that penalty out of false accusations. I only seek the truth. If I have tainted your record from a false accusation, I will correct it."

"Heh, I thought you said you wanted to talk to me about something not connecting to the case," Manfred smirked slightly. There was a silent pause before he humphed. "Whether or not I knew about that autopsy report being forged is hardly your concern. After all, it's a win for you."

"Not for me. I don't consider false accusations a win."

"Hmph."

"If it wasn't you that faked that autopsy report, you can look into the record's room and the security cameras as evidence to bring to the P.I.C. That should clear you of all false charges."

"Why are you telling me this!?" Manfred asked with a voice that sounded livid, but he was more surprised than anything. "How do you know about that sort of thing!?"

"As I said, I don't consider it a win, if it's under false charges. As for how I know..." Gregory stated, then tilted his head forward, showing a sly smirk. "let's just say the Police Department and I have a bit of history." Manfred shot him a glare. Gregory made his way out the door. "See you in court... maybe."

Manfred was at a loss. He didn't know how to respond to this. No matter, he had a court case to settle. For now, he intended on using this helpful information to clear himself of that forsaken penalty.

A/N: I have made different What-if DL-6 fics, but this would be my first No DL-6. I've seen plenty of No DL-6 fics where it shows Miles with his living father and no trauma, but never clarifies why or how. I mean, you can't prevent an earthquake or blackout, so it doesn't really answer the questions how or why DL-6 never happened. This answers both those questions. There's no DL-6, because no one was killed and Manfred didn't shoot anyone. It also hints that if there was no DL-6, Gregory and Manfred would've grown to being true rivals. You could even say they have a new respect for each other. I've kinda grown a soft spot for Manfred, since discovering that he might've not been as evil as I thought in the trilogy. He's evil, don't get me wrong, but he's the most gray villain in Ace Attorney with the most potential to being a better person.