The tension in the air could be felt as if it were a solid presence. The red head looked down for a moment, his eyes still watery with tears, streaks of tears falling down his cheeks and landing onto his shoes. No matter how many times the other man had protested, that he should stop crying, it was no big deal, he would not stop. He could not stop the crying, because his emotions were too real and for the first time in so many years he was really feeling true sorrow. "How much pain have I put you through?" he asked, lifting his head to look at the gentleman in the top hat. He tried to meet his gaze, and their eyes locked for a split second, before the other man's dark eyes looked over to the side.
Seeing the professor look away made him close his hands in tight fists, his whole body shaking. "God, I'm so, so sorry. I never...I never..." The remarks he made about how his once close friend had let him fall to his doom hadn't had any noticeable affects on Layton, but he knew that it was an awful thing to say, to bring back all the pain from eighteen years earlier.
The sun shined on the lazy town of Stansbury, marking the days as summer. Two boys walked down a rather isolated place that was known as Memory Knoll, laughing a bit as they settled down, laying on the grass. "Hey Hershel, do you believe in me?" the red head asked suddenly, interrupting their cheery attitude with the question. A stony silence lay in front of them, leaving Hershel to ponder the question. "Yes..." he said finally, his voice ending on a doubtful note.
Suddenly, Randall got up, brushing off the grass from his back and knees. "I knew it," he said with a shake of his head. "I know you don't believe in me. I know you think archaeology is absolutely boring and I'll never make a discovery I just...Knew it!" he said angrily, looking upset. He took off his glasses to wipe the tears away that were rolling down his cheeks and forming in his eyes. "Randall, sit down." He shook his head, but sat down anyway.
"Randall, what happened?" His voice was so full of concern, it caught him off guard. "I..." His voice trailed off. He knew he couldn't explain, not right now. "What did they say?" Hershel asked, sitting up and turning to Randall. Randall looked down, and everything was silent for a moment, besides the sounds of nature.
All at once, the boy moved into motion. He sobbed and fell into Hershel's awaiting arms, thankful to have them around him as he cried. "Angela's parents hate me. My own parents hate me! Hershel, no one thinks I can do it. They think I'll get over my archaeology dreams, but god dammit I won't, I can't. I have to prove them wrong, Hershel. I just can't take over my dad's business, I can't have the whole town laughing at me...! I can't marry Angela, if I wanted to..." he said miserably, shaking his head.
"Are you going to listen to them?"
"I...Hershel, I've been ignoring them for so long. But they're right. But..."
"You'll have to prove them wrong."
The red head sniffled, drawing away from his friend. "I know...I know, but it's hard when I don't have any support. What am I supposed to do? Henry cheers me on, but I know that it's because it's his job," he said with a long sigh. "No, Randall. I think he truly believes in your capabilities...Like I do."
"You do?"
"Yes. I always have! Just because I hate archaeology doesn't mean I hate you!"
"Eighteen years of pain." Randall was brought back to reality by the voice of Professor Layton. "Eighteen years of pushing you to the back of my mind and eighteen years of Henry, Angela, and myself blaming me for your death." Randall was silent, unable to meet the sudden emotion shown by the usually kind, but calm professor of archaeology. And again, the silence met them.
For the first time in eighteen years, Randall asked the most important question in the world, once more. "Do you believe in me?" he asked quietly, his shaking stopping and the tears still silently falling down his face. He was regretful and had been hurt beyond anything Layton could imagine, but he still had to think.
"Yes."
"That's gre-"
"But things are different now, Randall. You must understand nothing will go back to the way it was...However much I'd like it to be," he said regretfully. "We can't be best friends. It's simple, but it hurts, and I know that... But you must understand. I will try to stay in contact with you, but I can make no promises."
"Hershel..."
"If you'd excuse me, I'll be heading back to make preparations for our trip back to London." And all was silent again as Layton turned around and left, leaving Randall to the lit up, cheery night of Monte d'Or, his tears coming faster down his face as he watched the top hat silhoutte fade into the light of the city.