Summary: Clive had been in prison for a few years, alone and left to his own devices. However, he gets an unexpected surprise on a quiet, rainy day.
Contains high levels of fluff and lots of crying and sad-happy stuff.
Clive said silently in his prison cell. The cell was quiet, the only sounds being the clicking from a sliding puzzle in his lap and the slicing noises of the pocket knife he was twirling in his hand. He had been doing this sort of thing for years. He'd wake up, grab his pocket knife, get himself ready for the day, and then solve all the puzzles the officers gave him the night prior. At around 4:30 each day, inspector Grosky would come in and check each of Clive's answers and make sure they were right. If they weren't, he would have to try again the next day. It kept him occupied, and it kept his wits sharp. He got better at solving harder puzzles, and faster too.
Today felt different, however. Clive looked up at the small clock on the wall. 4:45, past the usual time. He stopped twirling the knife in his hands, catching the blade awkwardly between his fingers, making a small cut by accident. He stared at the clock for a few moments before silently going back to the puzzle, the silence of the room becoming tense. He was in a slight panic, as this sort of thing didn't happen often. Usually Grosky would be here by now, unless he was dealing with a delinquent prisoner. Clive hastily finished the puzzle, sliding the key in one corner into the keyhole in the other corner, unlocking something underneath the sliding puzzle. He opened it up, revealing a note inside. He grabbed the note, carefully opening it up and reading it to himself.
Clive,
If you are reading this, it is most likely past 4:30. Do not worry about me, I am perfectly fine. I'm preparing a surprise for you. It's not anything bad, I assure you. Wait until 5:30, and I'll take you to see it. In the meantime, you can solve this puzzle. The answer hints at your surprise.
What wears a top hat, has 6 letters in their name, and has traveled with you through London during a special adventure?
Good luck with this one!
-Grosky
Clive studied the puzzle carefully, reading it over a few times before thinking about the answer. He tapped the handle of the knife to his chin, pondering the puzzle.
"Dimitri? No, that has more than 6 letters. Luke? No, not enough letters, and he didn't wear a top hat. Hmmm..." He began to twirl the knife out of instinct. A few minutes passed, and then it hit him. "Layton! That's the answer!" He excitedly cried out the answer, clicking the knife closed in his hands and placing it into his pocket. He cleaned up his cell and then lied in wait.
"-ive... Clive... CLIVE!"
Clive snapped awake, letting out a startled yelp as he sat up. He looked around in a panic, his hand resting on the pocket with the knife in it. A hand waved in front of his face, directing his attention to the person standing beside him. Grosky was kneeled beside him, a worried look on his face. "You ok? I was worried when you wouldn't wake up." Clive shakily glanced around the room, calming down a bit when he realized he hadn't gone anywhere.
"Wh... What happened...?" He pulled his knees up to his chest, hugging them as he glanced around the room.
"Well, I came to get you so you could see the surprise, but when I came in, you were unconscious on the floor. I panicked, mainly because I saw blood near you. I thought you were hurt badly, but turns out, you just cut your hand on your pocket knife." Clive looked down at his hand, noticing the surprisingly large cut on his hand. It wasn't deep, but it was painful.
"At the time, I didn't see the cut, so I thought you were hurt badly, so I tried to wake you up." Clive looked down at his hand, then back at Grosky.
"I'm sorry. I must've still had the knife in my hand. I haven't gotten much sleep lately, so I guess I passed out while I was waiting. I apologise for scaring you." Grosky laughed, putting a hand on his shoulder. "You don't have to apologise. It was an accident. Now then, get up. It's about time you saw this surprise."
Clive quickly pushed himself to his feet, grabbing the set of puzzles he had and pushed them into the bag he had. He silently tossed the bag over his shoulder, then bumped into Grosky, snapping out of his momentary trance. "What's the matter? Are we not going to go?" Grosky shook his head, pulling out a set of handcuffs.
"I forgot to mention; since you're still a prisoner here, I can't let you roam around, even with supervision, without a restraint. I'll be lenient this time and only put handcuffs on you, alright?" Clive hastily nodded, holding out his bruised wrists so they could be handcuffed. He looked around at the area outside the cell. He rarely got out, so it was a sight to be seen for him. As he fell into another daze, he could hear an oddly loud jingling noise, like chains being shaken violently. He snapped back when Grosky grabbed his shoulder and gave him a light shove to signal they were moving.
Clive looked down at his wrists, staring at the handcuffs. They were different. Instead of being tight and sharp against his wrists, they were loose and easy to move around. He could get the cuffs themselves up to his hand before they got stuck, and unusual thing for sure. He also took note of the unusually long chain. He could move his arms outward and got them to about halfway to being parallel with his shoulders before the chain halted his progress. He wrapped it around his arm and unwound it several times, taking note of its length.
"7 times around. That's way more than normal. I can barely even get the normal chain around my wrist once!" Clive wondered to himself. It was odd, but a nice change of pace to say the least.
The two rounded a corner, revealing a brightly lit hallway with a small staircase that lead up into a large room. Grosky ushered Clive through the hallway and up the stairs, taking him to the large room. "This is the lobby..." Clive looked around, glancing at every possible thing. He hadn't seen a normal looking room in years, the closest thing being an interrogation room, but hat was nothing compared to the beauty of the lobby. Grosky gave him a light tap on the shoulder to snap him back to reality.
"You really need to quit with the spacing out. Pay attention more. You can look at all this again later, okay?" Clive nodded hastily. Grosky took him by the shoulder and walked him through a long hallway, stopping at a door with a small golden plate that read Transition Room. Clive glanced at it, then back at Grosky, who was examining a set of files left in the basket on the front of the door. He patiently tapped the chains of his cuffs, counting each link quietly, trying to occupy himself with something while he waited.
After a few minutes, Grosky knocked on the door and ushered Clive inside, handed him the files, and turned to leave. He leaned in and put a hand up by his mouth, covering it from view. "Wait here until they speak to you. Give them the files I gave you, and follow any directions otherwise." He turned and then left the room, silently shutting the door behind him. Clive looked around, glancing at every possible object with childlike curiosity. After looking at everything, he opened up the files and read through them. He didn't understand a thing, mainly because almost the whole thing was written by Grosky, and Grosky doesn't have the most legible handwriting.
"Transfer to Gressenheller? I finished school years ago! And what's thing thing about custody? 'Clive Dove, Transfer to custody.' Ok, I get that part, but WHO am I going to be in the custody of? Clearly they don't see me fit to live on my own yet." He wondered silently. He fiddled with the handcuffs, pushing them against his wrists in an attempt to get them off. The rattling of the chain must've been loud enough to get the attention of the man at the desk, because he was called over seconds later.
"Clive, I didn't know you came in. Please, have a seat." He pointed to a seat next to a girl in outfit, her hair pulled back slightly at the bottom. He hastily darted over and sat down, quietly waiting for the person to speak. He tucked his hands into their preferred position, sitting with his legs crossed. The girl turned and looked at him, a nervous look on her face. Clive gave her a small smile, then looked back and stared at his hands, waiting patiently. The man at the desk cleared his throat.
"As you may know, this is the man you are going to take into custody, yes?" The girl nodded.
"Yes. He's going to be coming back with me to where he'll be staying."
"And you live with someone, I presume?"
"Yes, a professor at Gressenheller University, as well as his apprentice."
"Alright. Write your name down here please." The girl clicked the pen once and wrote her name down in cursive, then set the pen down and leaned back in her chair.
"Emmy Altava..." Clive whispered the name to himself, taking note of it.
"Clive, may I please see the files?" The man held his hand out, patiently waiting, Clive handed him the files, then began to nervously mess with his handcuffs. "Thank you, Clive. Now then, can you sign your name here for me?" He pointed to a small line at the bottom of a paper. Clive took the pen and silently wrote his name down in a messy cursive. He then set the pen down and nervously glanced at Emmy. The man cleared his throat. "Alright. Thank you Emmy. You may take him." Emmy nodded, motioning for Clive to follow her as she exited the room. He got up and quickly ran after her. She led him outside, and had to stop when he stopped to look at everything.
"Cmon. I gotta get you to your new home. Lets get a move on." Clive nodded, following her to a small yellow scooter. She got on, strapping a yellow helmet to her head. "Get on and hold onto me. We need to get there quickly. It's almost sunset." Clive got on and grabbed onto her, tossing the chain over and around in hopes that he could use that as support in case he fell off. She revved the motor a few times before flooring it and speeding off towards Gressenheller.
Emmy came to a screeching halt in front of Gressenheller University. Clive had the most frightened look on his face. He had never seen such a reckless driver before. He lifted the chain off of her and got off, fixing his hair so it looked a bit more manageable. She put the scooter in park, put up the kickstand, and took off her helmet, placing it on the handle. She took him by the hand and dragged him inside, walking over to a door in the corner. She knocked twice, then opened it.
"Hey! I'm back, and I brought Clive!" Clive stared in awe at the messiness of the office he was standing in. Stone artefacts were strewn about the room, books were piled up on the floor, and tools used in archeology were everywhere. Clive looked around, fascinated with everything. Emmy walked over to a man wearing a red shirt and tapped on his shoulder.
"Professor, Clive's here." The man turned to look at her, then smiled, standing up and putting on a top hat and coat. "Thank you, Emmy." The man walked over to Clive, putting a hand on his shoulder. Clive almost broke down right then and there. Standing right in front of him was Professor Hershel Layton; the one person that still trusted him, even after he had tried to destroy London. Layton smiled softly. "Clive, it's good to see you again." Clive could feel his face getting hot, tears beginning to stream down his face. Layton unclipped the handcuffs from Clive's hands and set them on the table next to him. "Welcome home, Clive."
He couldn't hold it in any longer. He pulled Layton into a hug, bursting into tears. He buried his face in his coat, staining it with salty tears. Layton gently hugged him back, patting his back in an attempt to comfort him. Clive's wails filled the room, mixed in with apologies and sniffles. Emmy sighed, wrapping him in a hug from the other side. Every now and again, a few words escaped him, apologies, thank you's, and complete gibberish. It took him forever to finally calm down. He looked like a hot mess; his eyes were bright red, he had rubbed his nose raw, his hair was a complete mess, and his face looked like a tomato. He was too tired to care. Who knew crying was so exhausting?
Emmy let go and left Clive and Layton by themselves for the time being. Layton went to let go so Clive could look at him, but Clive didn't let go. Layton sighed, patiently waiting. "Clive, I know you're happy to see me again, but I'd appreciate if you let go." He gave him a gentle push, only getting a small whimper out of Clive. "Clive. Let go of me please." His voice was stern, yet still sounded gentle. Clive slowly and reluctantly let go of him, hanging his head, resting it on Layton's chest. Layton ushered Clive over to the couch and sat him down. He sat there, slowly drifting into sleep. Layton went back to his desk and continued his work on the artefacts he was examining.
After a few minutes, he heard a muffled thump. He turned around, only to see Clive's head wasn't peaking out over the couch anymore. He got up and peeked over, making sure he was still there. Sure enough, he was fast asleep, curled up in a little ball on his side. "That thump must've been him falling over." Layton smiled, taking off his coat and laying it over Clive's sleeping body. Clive grabbed at it, pulling it over his head, leaving only his hair peeking out over the top. Layton walked back to his desk, sitting back down and picking up the tools he had. A loud knock broke the silence. Emmy opened the door, peeking in before she fully entered. She noticed the bundle on the couch covered by the professors coat, covered her mouth, the quietly entered the room, making sure to close the door as quietly as she could to make up for her loud entrance. She crept over to the bundle and pulled the coat back a bit, revealing Clive, fast asleep. Layton turned to look at her. "He's sleeping. Leave him be." She nodded, tiptoeing over to him.
"He's looks too cute like that!" She tried to keep her voice down as best she could. Layton nodded, patting the seat next to him. "While we wait for him to wake up, why don't you help me solve this puzzle?" Emmy nodded, sitting down and looking at it. "Sure thing, Professor!"
"Clive! Clive wake up!"
Clive rolled over, pulling the coat over his eyes with a groan.
"5 more minutes..."
He was shaken by someone for what felt like the 5th time.
"Wake up!!!! Cmon!"
"Luke, let him sleep."
"Professor, he's awake!
"Luke, the professor told you to let Clive sleep."
"He was going to wake up sooner or later..."
Clive groaned loudly, curling up even tighter.
"Be quiet... I'm trying to sleep..."
He was met with a small child flopping on top of him.
"Come oooooonnnn!!! Get up!!"
He gave a defeated groan before pushing the child off of him. He pulled the coat off of himself and set it aside, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He was met with a very happy Luke Triton standing in front of him when he opened his eyes.
"Morning, Clive!" He jumped onto him, hugging him tightly. Clive was surprised by the sudden hug attack, but hugged Luke anyways. He hadn't seen the kid since he was sent off to Scotland Yard, and it was odd to see him hugging a criminal. When he finally let go, Luke excitedly sat down next to him.
"Professor told me you were going to stay here with us! He told me you were changed and super nice, and I'm super excited!" He bounced a bit on the seat. Layton set down a cup of tea for himself, Luke, Emmy, and Clive, then sat down next to Luke.
"I'm glad to see you awake Clive. You were out for quite a while." Luke pointed to the clock, smiling happily.
"You were asleep all night! Professor told me you didn't even move while you were asleep!" Clive looked stunned. He stared at Layton, a bit panicked.
"W-were you here all night?!" Layton chuckled, setting his tea down.
"Of course! I had some work to do and papers to grade, so I had to stay and finish them. I also couldn't leave you here alone. I was told you had frequent nightmares and insomnia while you were at the Yard, so I opted to stay here while you slept in case you woke up and needed some company." Clive looked all embarrassed, covering his face with his hands.
"Professor, you really didn't have to..." Layton smiled, taking another sip of his tea.
"Clive, I need you to be comfortable while you're here. This isn't another prison. Although you won't be living here in my office, I still want you to be comfortable. This is an odd change for you, and I want to help you get used to it." Clive smiled sheepishly, his cheeks still red from embarrassment.
"Professor, really, you don't have to do that... I'll be just fine." He picked up his tea and sipped it quickly, putting down just as fast as he picked it up, rubbing his hand. Luke frantically began trying to see Clive's injured hand.
"Are you ok? Did the teacup burn you?" Clive shook his head, looking at the cut that was now a bright red, and very painful.
"I cut my hand earlier today on accident. I must've forgotten and used my right instead of my left to grab the cup." Luke breathed a sigh of relief.
"I thought you were really hurt! Don't scare me like that!" He pouted, crossing his arms and scooting away from Clive. Clive just sighed and pulled Luke into a hug.
"Cmon, I didn't mean to scare you. Don't be so pouty. It's very ungentlemanly." He made sure to change his tone to sound fancy and perfect, which made him sound like a 12 year old with a cracking voice. Luke couldn't help but laugh. He scooted back towards Clive, hugging him back. Layton smiled, his heart warmed by the sight of Luke and Clive hugging. It wasn't every day they got to befriend a former criminal turned good. He cleared his throat, getting the two boys attention.
"Why don't we celebrate this occasion by going out to eat? Where do you two want to go?" Both Clive and Luke looked at each other excitedly, then they shouted in unison, "THE ICE CREAM PARLOR!!" Layton laughed, getting up and heading for the door.
"I suppose I'll let it slide, just this once. Now then, let's hurry so we can get a table. I heard it has been exceptionally busy lately." Luke and Clive raced to the door, running outside and shouting to each other as they began to run in the direction of the parlor. Layton dashed after them, a grand smile on his face. He watched as Clive did a twirl or two in between strides, a doofy grin on his face. He had never been happier.