A/N: Professor Layton doesn't belong to me, though I wish it does. D';

Chapter One: Awakening

Twenty years. That was how long Clive was to spend in the lonely hell known as jail. It had been a mere hour since the young man was pulled away from Professor Layton and the young apprentice after apprehending his crime.

Underground London lay in ruins, and the true London attacked by Clive's fortress was shackled only by the surrounding buildings. The area was decimated and countless dollars would be used to repair and bring forth the true glory that was once London. It was not only the buildings however; lives had been wasted at the expense of his so-called revenge. All that for nothing.

The young man did not falter as he stood face-to-face with Inspector Chelmey at the station. Clive had since been cuffed on the wrists, and an officer held him on the back while another stood guard. Chelmey hid the confusion in his mind of how calm the boy looked. There was barely a hint of guilt or remorse, but a stern face that told him 'I know I have committed wrongs. Bring me my punishment.'

The inspector coughed slightly. "You, Clive, are sentenced to jail for the threat of possible destruction to our city. Not only that, but you endangered many important lives like myself – and killed those that were innocent." As Chelmey expected, there was no plea of forgiveness. The boy mentally admitted to everything I just stated. "Your personal belongings will be taken care of while you're gone. Rest assured, they will be untouched." Once again, there was no oral response. However, the boy's face fell. His eyes no longer penetrated the inspector but dragged along the ground. Ah, there it is. The consequences of his crime are sinking in. "You are allowed to make one phone call and also to request a lawyer if you wish." Chelmey couldn't help but to show a smug grin. No lawyer in the world could prove his innocence.

"I don't want to call anyone. But thank you, sir." I have no one in my life to call.

"Very well. Barton, attend him to his cell." The chubby officer saluted the inspector as he continued. "You're still young, so a cell alone would be a harsh experience. The police have generously decided to give you a prison-mate. He's about your age so you two should get along just nicely. The cell is bigger, too. Lucky you."

Generously? I actually want a cell alone. After all, you get used to it. Being alone, that is.

Barton picked up a pile of neatly folded prison clothes on a nearby counter. "We don't like seeing young inmates wearing those striped ones. This is just a tee and simple shorts. They're comfy – and seeing the striped reflection of your clothes on the water never makes anyone feel any better. Now come along." The officer gestured Clive to follow, as if he was scared to hold like with any other regular prisoner. And Clive did follow, with the same sunken look on his face as when the inspector mentioned his personal belongings.

"We've arrived." Barton stated. He pulled a set of shiny silver keys from his belt and jingled through them until he found the correct key. "Ah, there it is. D129." The metal gate screeched open and Clive walked in without hesitation, his back to the officer. "Here are the clothes. Of course, we'll need you to change. I'll be back in a short while to collect your old clothes." Barton took out the key to Clive's handcuffs and undid them. Then, he closed the cells' only way out, locked it, and quickly left with a little jump as he attempted to whistle a happy tune.

Clive still had his back turned to the iron gate of freedom. He brought his arms forward and looked at them. It was good to be able to move them again. There were circular indents in the skin of his wrists were the cuffs had been. They would fade eventually.

The young man scanned his cell from left to right. There was a bed on the left wall that looked extremely dead. It had a pillow that was as flat as a sheet of paper. In the corner was a small, flushable urinal. Next to it was a simple sink. The walls themselves were cold to the touch. Classic stone cell. In the middle of the wall right across from where he stood was a single wooden bench. It stuck to the wall by a couple of chains. In front of the bench was a small rectangular table, appropriately sized for a meal shared between two people. Above the wooden bench was a small hole to the outside world. In it were four steel bars to prevent escape. Not that they're needed. That hole is a good four meters above ground. He looked out the window. It was well into the night, but even the usually brilliant stars hid tonight.

The inspector was right. This cell is almost twice as big as a regular one. Then his mind sparked with a realization. He looked to the right of the cell. As he thought, there was another bed. In fact, the entire cell was symmetrical. Lying on the bed was a figure. Because of the odd L-shape of the cell, there wasn't enough light from the outside to completely make out the features of his mate.

"Well, are you just going to stand there and look dumbfounded like an idiot? Or are you going to your bed and make this place feel just like home?"

By the voice, it was another young male, as Chelmey had indirectly told him. Clive reluctantly walked towards his bed and sat down, all while his eyes tried to focus on this stranger.

"Oh. I'm sorry the light doesn't really reach my corner. Blame the architects."

Clive didn't like this person's tone. "Enough with the wise-talk. Do you have a name?"

He laughed. "A name? You come in here and the first thing you want to know is my name? Names don't matter here, smart guy. Not until you're out of this dump. But I'll tell you anyways. The name's Joshua – but you can call me Josh. We're going to be best friends forever in these coming years, aren't we pal?"

Clive didn't like this guy – Joshua, one bit. He decided not to reply, turned his back to him, and began changing out of his old clothes, as was his orders.

"Whoa man. I know we're best friends but don't you think you're going a littleee too quickly here?" In the darkness, Josh held both his hands up in a 'stop' gesture but Clive could tell he was smiling even without facing him.

That blew the silent bomb ticking in Clive's mind. "Look here wise guy! We can get along without talking, or we can just not get along at all. I have no intention of being 'best friends forever' with you, nor am I in the mood to talk to you at all if your personality is really that stuck-up as it is." He slipped on the t-shirt and quickly folded his old clothes in a neat pile. At the very top, there was something missing. The blue hat he had bought for one sole reason. What are these clothes, really? I only got them to be the imitation 'Future Luke'. But what kind of future do I have for myself? He placed the pile at the gate of the cell so that when Barton came, the officer could just reach in and grab it without the two making any more communication at all.

"Feisty, aren't we?"

Clive no longer wished to pay any heed to his prison-mate. He once again walked back to his bed and lay down, preparing to sleep – or at least, think. He closed his eyes and began to drift off into his own world.

"And I thought a true gentleman was supposed to be polite wherever he was." The words immediately opened up Clive's eyes. "Ah, there we go. Finally, a good response."

"You know what your problem is Joshua? Do you ever stop talking? Now shut up and go to sleep." Those words were probably just a coincidence. I'm not going to get this guy on my nerves. He's nothing compared to everything else I had to go through today. All my years of hard work... to be crushed by -

"You planned all these years to have your revenge, yet you still invited the Professor into your scheme, knowing he would ruin it. In truth, you were always indebted to him as child, and twice more so now. "

That did it. Clive got up from his bed and stood, breathing heavily at the dark figure in the shaded area of the room. "How do you know so much about me?"

Joshua's voice was gravely mocking. "You just told me yourself with that reply, didn't you?" He saw the anger surging in the eyes of his prison-mate. "Just kidding. It's called eavesdropping. They, the police, didn't tell me directly. While I was being led to this cell, I heard Chelmey talking with other officers about your situation. That was before he met up with you. Surprising how an instant in the hallway could tell me so much, huh?"

"You know so much about me, I should at least have the right to see your face!" Clive stormed over to the other bed and brought his arm out. He grabbed the cuff of Joshua's shirt and forcefully brought him out into the light.

"Well, you see my face. What now? You would've seen it tomorrow morning anyways." Joshua shrugged, irritating Clive even more.

As Inspector Chelmey had said, Joshua was about Clive's age, probably older. He had dark brown hair that slightly flew out to give it a 'fluffy' kind of look. He was the same height as Clive too, but was skinnier. Prison food is generally nutritious, so he probably just has a good metabolism. Besides the facial features, nothing really stood Joshua out from any other male adolescent.

Clive gritted his teeth. There was really nothing he could say. Whoever this Joshua was, he had wits. He had beaten Clive in a game before he even knew there was one. He let go of Joshua's shirt and avoided eye contact to avoid admitting this quick defeat. I must keep my guard up. He's not the type of person I expected to have met here. Why couldn't I have just had a cell to myself?

"You're a pretty good actor, I must say. You had everyone fooled for the longest time. Even Layton! To be able to do that without any slip ups! Until the end of the show of course." Joshua began clapping as if he were part of an audience, but stopped shortly after. "You must really know this gentleman business. I would've failed and have had Layton see right through me on day one if I were given the same assignment."

"I can see that." Clive began walking back to his bed once again, and noticed his old clothes at the gate were gone. Barton must have come already. But he couldn't help but feel a bit lonesome. Those clothes were the last thing that he had from the outside while he was still free. Now Clive, as soon as I reach that bed I'm going to sleep and shun that ever-talking Joshua out of my mind.

"I know you're not a true gentleman, though, no matter how well you can act."

He's just playing with you. Whatever this guy did to get in here, he must've gotten away with it for a long time.

"I can see it in your eyes, you know."

Only a couple more steps. The cell, only a few meters wide, seemed to take forever to walk across. Or rather – Clive's legs were slowing down. Don't you dare betray me, body.

"No matter how much you enjoyed spending time with Layton, you can never be like him."

A quick breath was drawn from his lips. His eyes stared point blank at the bed.

"You promised Layton that you will atone for your crimes. But I can tell you still seek revenge."

By now, his legs stopped moving completely.

"I can help you get that revenge. That is, if you help me too."

Something regained life in the heart of Clive's body. Ten years ago, it was born. And for ten years, it was feeding and grew stronger. Only a couple hours ago, it had been destroyed. No, not destroyed. Merely... covered up. And now it was being re-excavated like an archaeologist finding a solution to a puzzle.

A/N: This is my first Professor Layton story – and actually my first story in a long time involving characters not of my own creation.