Why hello fellow Professor Layton fans. This is my first Fanfiction for the game, and there will be more. This is my favorite video game because I like things that make me think. Anyway, I hope you enjoy. Please comment or favorite, because it is greatly appreciated and I love getting advice.
This takes place before Curious Village, way before Flora or Claire or Paolo.
This is a one-shot.
I haven't played 'Diabolical Box' yet, so if any of my information is incorrect because of that, I apologize. I have played the first and third game, however.
Happy reading!
CRASH!
CRACK!
Luke pulled his covers up closer to his chin. The blue comforter did not live up to it's name- it did not comfort him one bit. As his toes curled, he closed his eyes.
"All I have to do is think of a happy place..." he thought to himself out loud. This was a strategy his father had taught him long ago, when he was not staying with the Professor.
The boy, innocent and young, clenched his fists and suddenly jumped as another crack of thunder rolled in. This one was long and broad, with the wind whipping at the glass of Luke's window. The tall, dark trees that were part ofthe landscaping outside thrashed with the violent wind. Luke cracked open one eye cautiously to peer outside.
He didn't understand his fear with storms. Why did the splatter and sprinkle of rain slamming against the ground scare him? Luke knew that the water and wind could not hurt him. Flashbacks to his days in England with his true family flooded his brain.
That one night, he believed, had traumatized his vision of storms for life. His mother and father were driving, the passenger occupied by his mom and the driver his father. The road was slick, Luke remembered. He stared out of the window as the buildings of Birmingham passed by, dark, ominous clouds hovering overhead. The green trees of spring time were now flipping sideways and leaning to the direction of the wind. He was more fascinated by the weather than scared. Luke remembered hearing the radio play some classical song as his father took a sharp left to get to their street. The car swerved uncontrollably and Luke was thrown from one side of the car to the other. The thunder boomed as well as Luke's fear. He reached for his blue hat that had tilted from the impact as he heard his parents shout in surprise. The little boy closed his eyes and screamed as his father turned the wheel quickly and frantically to regain control. The brake was stomped right before the front end would have hit a tree. Luke sat up once again, and readjusted his seat-belt. He was fine, but to this day, he never knew what caused his father to take such a drastic turn.
Luke, at the remembrance of that time, began to whimper. He wanted to draw the shades of his window, but his legs wouldn't listen to his head. The rhyme or reason that usually surrounded Luke because of his mentor was lost. He was jolted by the thought. Although Luke had his moments with his temper, he had always tried to be a gentleman.
"Well," he thought to himself, "is this gentlemanly behavior?"
His breathing trembled as he opened both eyes, pushing back the tears that had began to form at the memory. He pulled the covers off of his body, the safety of the warmth leaving him. His stripped pajamas suddenly weren't as comfortable as before. Luke threw his legs to the side of the bed and hopped down, sliding his feet into the slippers that he loved. In the corner of his eye, he spotted the old teddy bear his mother had made him so many years ago. He turned, silent and slowly, towards it and gripped the plush bear's arm. He held it close to him as he strode with false bravery to his window. His arms trembled, and Luke couldn't decipher whether or not it was from the cold or fear. He reached out with the arm that didn't hold the teddy, and gripped the curtain that would save him the sight of the outside world.
Suddenly, as he jerked his arm forward, something flew up and hit Luke's window.
"Ah!" Luke scrambled backwards, dropping the bear. His loud exclamation had broken the eerie silence that hovered over his room since he had been tucked him by the Professor. His body crashed on the floor and his eyes almost popped out of his skull. The object had not been large, only unexpected and fast-coming. Luke pushed himself backwards with his legs, his large eyes glued on the glass, hoping nothing more would come.
His scream had echoed in his ears, and he suddenly realized just how loud it was. He stood up, his eyes still locked on the window. The only thing he focused on was that window, his body completely still. His mouth agate, a new worry rushed into his mind.
Had he woken the Professor?
Luke finally closed his lips and gulped. He willed his lungs to fill with air again and turn back towards his bed.
"Perhaps if I just get into my bed an stay very still, the Professor will think nothing happened." Luke concluded in his mind, his thoughts and fears suddenly shifted to the Professor instead of the storm.
He ran to his bed, keeping his feet light so the Professor (who slept downstairs) would not hear his footsteps. Removing his slippers and throwing them somewhere he couldn't predict, he flopped onto his bed. His heartbeat fast, he gripped the blankets once more and furiously unraveled the messy blankets. Tugging the cloth over him, he flipped onto his side and smashed his head against the pillow. He sighed and closed his eyes, suddenly imagining what consequences he may face if he did indeed wake the Professor. Luke knew that there would be no worse punishment than the Professor becoming disappointed in him.
Suddenly, as a flash of lightning seeped through the still-open window, Luke heard his doorknob rattle. He clenched his eyes tighter, hoping that this may convince the Professor that he was indeed innocent. He remained still, his body maybe overly tense for sleeping.
The door opened slowly, the rain splattering against the window. Luke could hear the floor creak as the man leaned into them. Luke still kept his eyes closed and his body motion-less. The Professor stepped slowly into the boy's room, his steps quiet and slow. Luke knew that the Professor was watching him, for what else would he be looking at? The footsteps grew towards the window and Luke could recognize that he was also wearing slippers.
The boy could hear the Professor chuckle lightly. He was confused as to why, but tried to level his breathing to a sleeper's level.
The man then moved his was over to the boy. Luke could feel the Professor's hand on his shoulder, and suddenly felt smaller than he already was.
"Luke," the man sounded as if he was smiling, "if you keep falling like that, you'll break your tailbone."
Luke falsely opens his eyes. He pretends to wake up from his slumber, rubbing his eye with his small fist. "Oh, good evening, Professor... what's the matter?"
Luke turned on his back now, to look at the Professor. He could see that, despite his pajamas and sleep-distorted hair, he wore his top-hat. The icon that defined who he was wherever he went. However, Luke didn't need a hint to know who he was. He had gotten on one knee to be eye-level with the boy. He was scared that his facade wouldn't fool the intelligent man.
He discovered, with surprise, that the Professor chuckled once again. "Well, I wanted to see if you were alright. From the sound of that shout and boom, it certainly is a cause for concern."
Luke faked a look of surprise and confusion. "What scream? What boom?"
The Professor raised his eyebrows. "Oh? You didn't hear it?"
Luke shook his head, feeling his hair friz against the pillow.
"Well," he shook his head understandingly, "I must have been mistaken. I'm sorry for waking you, my boy."
Luke smiled. "It's alright, Professor. Sleep well."
The Professor ran his hand over the boy's hair and stood once more. Luke turned over once more to be stopped by the Professor.
"You have one error to your plan, Luke," the man turned him over onto his back.
"What plan?" Luke tried on his innocent, little boy face.
"Luke, sit up." Professor sat on the edge of the bed as Luke scurried to lean his back against the headboard.
The man held up the home-made teddy bear that Luke kept close to him.
Luke excitedly gripped the soft bear to his chest once more. He then remembered that he had dropped the bear in the process of falling.
"You never let that thing leave your side at night. You'd never leave it on the floor like that," the Professor proved his point.
"Alright, Professor," Luke's voice lowered and he gave up his act, "you caught me. I was scared of the storm, so I tried to go close the window... but something hit the window and scared me..."
The Professor looked understandingly at the boy that had been cracked. "I know."
"You know?"
"Yes."
"How?"
"I heard you."
"Heard me what?
"Walking around. And your slippers are askew, which is unlike you."
"That rhymed, Professor." Luke giggled and was relieved that the Professor had not given him the 'voice'. Worse then yelling was the voice of disappointment that only guardians can deliver.
The man also chuckled at this coincidence. "But true."
"Well, Professor, I'm just scared of storms..." Luke returned to seriousness.
"I was told this by your father. I know, which is why I stayed up tonight."
"You did?"
"I just wish that I had came up faster. I don't like to hear that you had gotten shocked even more so."
Luke looked down at the blanket. Why was the Professor not angry with him?
"Are you alright?" Layton inquired.
Luke nodded. "Just a little frightened. But, I have to admit, Professor, I was more afraid of your reaction to my behavior than of the storm."
Layton pinched his eyebrows together and tilted his head. "What do you mean?"
"Well, it's not very gentlemanly to be afraid," Luke shuffled his body to get more comfortable, "especially of something as harmless as a storm."
Layton looked at the boy with a certain look, one that described his curiosity. "Where did you hear that? Everyone is afraid of something. I haven't been doing a correct job if I told you that."
Luke hadn't known where he got the idea. No one had told him anything, but he remembered witnessing something that gave him the idea.
"You never look scared, Professor. Every time a problem arises, you always solve it calm, cool and collected."
The Professor smiled and chuckled shortly. "Luke, my boy, if you ever knew what was going through my mind during some of those problems, your opinion of my 'calm, cool and collected' stature would change."
Luke made eye contact with the Professor even though it was dark in the room. "You are afraid?"
Layton nodded. He smiled, not realizing just how naive the boy was. He certainly had much to learn.
Luke had never actually considered this. He was sure that the Professor had a heart of stone underneath the softness. "Of what?"
"Depends on the situation. Usually, it's narrowed down to the people with me and their safety."
Luke tilted his head.
"Like you, Luke. Your father trusts me with your life and health. If I don't follow through with that, I'll lose you one way or another."
Luke smiled. "Aw, Professor. I think you do a really swell job of taking care of me."
The Professor grinned. "That's all I ever worry about. That and some things in my past. But Luke, everyone is afraid of their past. There's always something that someone regrets or wants to forget."
Luke remembered the flashback to the car ride that caused him to be afraid of storms. He wasn't alone? Luke had always envisioned the Professor as having a very gifted childhood with little worries. Then again, he was far older than he. How could he ever have problems?
"I don't mean to be rude or imposing," Luke leaned in towards Layton, "but what happened in your past that has bothered you so?"
Layton's eyes glazed. "That's another day or night, Luke. I'll share my stories."
Luke smiled. Layton had trusted him as much he did vice versa. Otherwise, he would not have offered to share his past with him.
"The only ungentlemanly thing you did Luke," Professor began to stand once more, "was lie to me."
Luke couldn't remember a time where he had lied to the Professor like he had tonight. "I'm sorry Professor... I really am."
The Professor nudged the boy down and Luke snuggled once more into his bed. Layton ran his hand across the boy's hair once more and stepped towards the window.
"Oh, look, the rain has stopped..." Layton said cheerfully. Luke smiled. No more thunder. Maybe he would finally be able to get some sleep.
The Professor grabbed the curtain and pulled them over the window anyway. The room was suddenly pitch black, now that the moon's illumination was cut off.
"Good night, Luke." Professor opened the door and looked back at the boy.
"Sleep well, Professor." He smiled and closed his eyes as the door closed, creating the silence that Luke had heard before the ordeal.
But this time, the silence was not eerie. It was welcome, warm and complete, perfect for sleeping.
Thank you for reading! It was long for a one-shot, I know, but it was just whipped up when I was feeling a bit bored. I would really appreciate it if you commented or favorite, although I won't beg. Again, thank you very much.
