Disclaimer: Professor Layton is copyright Level5.

Authors notes: My first attempt at writing RanLay.

I don't think it turned out very good at all.

Young!Hershel and Young!Randall.


He didn't know why he'd agreed to meet Randall in the grassy field outside the boy's house. Didn't know how his friend had managed to convince him that sneaking out of his house at well past midnight to meet secretly, out of the sight of others, was a good idea. He was wandering through the market now, and it was eerie just how empty and quiet it was. While certainly, Stansbury wasn't the biggest town you could find, it was always filed with people. Hershel had become accustomed to seeing crowds of some form, always milling about buying things. Now; now it was dark, and silent, and empty, and altogether wholly unnerving.

There was no life at all here, at night.

"Randall…" He muttered, slowly shaking his head. He'd always found it difficult to say no to the boy's enthusiasm. And how enthusiastic Randall had been - if not a litttle shy about the topic, for once.

Randall had been getting oddly… physical, lately. And not the kind of physical that resulted in cuts and bruises, either. Not that Randall wasn't physical to start with, but he'd been hugging Hershel a lot more, recently. There had been less headlocks, and hair-ruffling, and more found himself actually enjoying them, but didn't understand the change. And since Randall tended to clam up when Hershel brought it up, he'd stopped bothering to try and pry it out of him.

Then, a noise. Hershel froze. The market was supposed to be empty - nobody in Stansbury was awake at this hour. At least, they weren't supposed to be, at any rate.

"Hello?" He asked the supposed-to-be-empty market. For amoment, there was nothing, and Hershel continued walking - albeit with a much faster pace. He'd almost made it out of the market when a response came.

"Ah, I thought it was you." A male voice that he didn't recognize. Hershel whipped around to see a light-haired man standing a few feet away from him. He had two black-suited men with him, one on either side. He didn't recognise any of these men, and that they were out this late and apparently recognised HIM, was worrisome.

"Who are you?" He asked, tensing. He had to fight the urge to run; these people that recognised him could be dangerous, and something inside him was saying that running, would be a very bad choice indeed.

"…No, you wouldn't remember, would you?" The man said after a moment. "You were still rather young the last time we met, after all." Slowly, the man that had still not introduced himself began to walk forwards - making Hershel tense even more. Every few steps that the man and his two friends took, Hershel took one backwards. Something about this man… he did not like it. This man was not safe.

"W-what do you want?" He stammered. Light-haired man grinned.

"Just your help in answering some questions." He said, smirking. Light-hair then turned to the two men following him, snapping his fingers and gesturing to Hershel.

Hershel's eyes widened, and he immediately followed his instinct to run - not that he got far. Almost at once, the two black-suited men grabbed him, holding him too tightly for him to have a chance at escape. But still he thrashed as best he could; fighting them even harder as a cloth was pressed to his mouth. They were using chloroform on him…!

As his grip on consciousness waned, he steadily stopped resisting, his vision slowly fading as he stared at the light-haired man. Eventually, his eyes fluttered shut, and his weak attempts at escape stopped altogether.

The nameless man grinned, then gently took the now-unconscious boy from his two accomplices, holding Hershel in his arms.

"Follow me." The two men did as they were told, following their boss as they walked to where they'd been staying for the past few days now. They didn't notice the red-haired boy that had been watching the encounter, slowly tailing behind them.

o0o

He had been looking forward to this meeting with Hershel ever since school had let out earlier that day - or rather, ealier the previous day. Randall had been noticing his affection for the boy steadily growing stronger, and as he became comfortable with it, he gained the desire, and confidence, to finally tell Hershel. When Hershel had agreed to meet him, Randall had been extatic. He hoped Hershel reacted well.

As time passed, Randall became impatient. This was taking too long. The market was empty this time of night, right? Meeting up with Hershel halfway couldn't hurt. Besides, it would save his friend from having to walk even further.

Walking through the market at night was strange - very quiet. Though, he could hear voices up ahead, so evidently it wasn't completely empty. The voice sounded like it belonged to an older, man, and…
Randall's eyes widened as he caught sight of the scene occuring further into the market, and before he could be seen, he dodged into an alleyway and out of sight. Hershel was talking to somebody that Randall didn't recognise, and man wearing a blue jacket, black glasses - which made no sense, at night - and had light-colored hair. He had two black-suited goons, too.

Whatever was happening, it didn't look good. Especially by how tense Hershel looked. Randall couldn't hear what they were saying though.

"Just run, Hershel…" He muttered. Why wasn't he running? There were many houses around here, if he was in trouble, a yell would attract practically half the town to his position!

It took everything Randall had not to charge in screaming when Hershel turned to run, and was grabbed by the two men wearing black suits. Through the darkness and dimly lit streets, Randall could see them press a small clothe to Hesrhel's face, covering his mouth and nose.

Chloroform. Hershel was being kidnapped.

"Don't worry, Hersh." Randall said, slowly following them as they began to walk from the market, unconscious Hershel in tow. "Nobodies kidnapping you while I'm around." He only hoped that they didn't catch him.

o0o

He woke slowly. There was a fuzz coating his mind that made thoughts come sluggishly, and for a few moments, he didn't remember what had happened - or where he was. He just sat, not understanding why his room looked so drasticly different from what he remembered.

"You're awake." Hershel heard somebody say. Slowly, he looked up from the floor, blinking at the black-suit man before him, not responding.

And then the man slapped him, causing the fog to instantly lift as Hershel cried out in pain. Now he remembered - he'd been kidnapped. He had been on his way to meet Randall, and a man with light-colored hair had stopped him, drugging him with chloroform and obviously taking him someplace. He had said… that he wanted questions answered. But what kind of questions could he posibly have the answers to?

"W-where… am I?" He asked, fighting off the last remanents of the chloroform. The man, who was NOT Light-hair, chuckled.

"Can't tell you that, kid." He said. "What if you try to escape?" Hershel tensed. He didn't like this situation, not at all.

"You know, if you just wanted to ask me questions, you could've just asked me. I would've cooperated." Hershel said roughly, not thinking. The man let out a laugh, then reacted.

Hershel jerked in the chair he was tied to as the man punched him, and couldn't help but cry out in pain again. Vaguely, he felt something moving in his mouth, and spat.
A tooth. The sight of it made him shiver - this man wasn't playing. He had to watch what he said, couldn't just say things and expect no harm.

"Now…" The man began. Hershel looked up at him, silent. "do you know about the Norwell wall?" Hershel stared for a moment before responding.

"Y-yes… it's through a forest northeast from… from the marketplace. Nobody knows what it is." Randall had been researching it lately. Had forced him to help, getting him copying notes from books and not telling him why he needed them.

"What else?" The man said. Hershel stared at him.

"Nothing. It's just an ancient wall." Another punch. The gut this time. Hershel curled into himself as best he could, coughing roughly as he tried to get the air back into his lungs.

"You've been seen doing an awfull lot of research about Norwell, and the ruins said to be there. You know SOMETHING. Boss wants to know, too." Again, Hershel spoke before he thought about the consequences.

"Can't he just do research himself?" He hadn't been trying to sound defiant; honestly wanted to know - why couldn't their boss just do research, himself?

This earned him more pain, and after a while, the man repeated his question. Hershel panicked for a moment - these men had obviously seen him when he was copying things down for Randall, pulling facts and references and translated languages out of old archeology books when Randall couldn't do it himself. They thought that he was researching Norwell, that he knew things about the wall there. How could he tell them what he didn't know?
Hershel thought hard. What was that… thing that Randall had been talking about, last week…? He had been grounded at the time, and gotten Hershel to copy page after page, from book after book…

"The Azran!" He cried out as the memory came back.

"Now we're getting somewhere!" The man exclaimed. "The wall is Azran?" Hershel shrugged, tensing as he prepared for more pain - the man wouldn't like his response.

"I - I don't know." He said. "I h-heard something called 'Azran' in one of m-my books!" He couldn't help but stammer. The man sighed, and Hershel hut his eyes tight. Waited for the man's next string of abuse.

o0o

He had lost track of how long he'd been there. Of how many questions the man had asked and how many cuts and bruises he now had. Somewhere along the way, he'd started fading in and out of consciousness, and that had only gotten him beaten more.

Eventually he'd run out of energy to even speak - not that speaking would make this predicament any better. Nothing he said pleased this man, not even when he promised that he'd said all he knew. Which wasn't much. Randall was the one who'd known how everything was connected. Hershel just copyed down information every once in a while.
So, he'd fallen silent, not bothering to listen to the man's questions and only reacting when he got hit for lack of response.

When the light-haired man entered the room, he didn't even care.
Until he spoke.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Light-hair screeched. He heard the man storm over, and only bothered to look at him when Light-hair gripped his chin, forcing him to look the man in the eye. For a moment, the man just stared at him. Then he spoke.

"Tell me your name." For a few moments, Hershel was tempted to not say anything - everything else he'd said generally got him beaten. Doubtless that this, too, would result the same way. The man made a concerned noise when no reply was made, then spoke again. "All I'm asking for is your name. Simple question."

"…H-hersh…shel…" He said slowly, and with a worrying amount of effort. A quick, irritated sigh, and Light-hair let the boy's head go. Hershel continued to stare at the floor as the man spoke to black-suit.

"I asked you to question him, NOT beat him into submission!" The sound of somebody getting hit made Hershel flinch, even though he wasn't the target. "He can barely even say his own name, and you expected him to be able to hold a conversation?!" Light-hair sighed again. "My office. Now." He heard someone leaving. Probably black-suit; the man's boss did not sound impressed. Eventually, Hershel heard Light-hair leave, as well.

He was alone. Maybe now, he could rest.

o0o

After what felt like barely a few seconds, Hershel heard the sound of the door opening again. Probably Light-hair. The man was probably going to ask more questions - if he was lucky, he'd not get beaten this time. The man didn't seem to want him to get hurt. As the person came up close to him, Hershel didn't bother looking at him - continued staring blankly at the floor. For a few moments, silence. Then, the prson spoke.

"Hersh…?" Hershel half-gasped, half coughed. It was… Randall? What was Randall doing here? Had they taken him too? "Hersh, are you okay? Are you injured?"

"Yes. To hurt." He managed to say. Yes he was hurt. He'd just been beaten, wouldn't be surprised if he was coated in bruises, or even possessed a few broken bones.

"Where?" Randall asked. Hershel coughed again.

"Ev-everywhere." He couldn't think of a part of him that WASN'T in pain. The thought of going home and sleeping for a week felt extraordinarily tempting. Thinking of sleep, in turn, made him tired, and he closed his eyes. Then he was shaken.

"No!" Randall cried, about as loud as he could without risking drawing attention to himself. "You've gotta keep awake, alright Hershel? I mean, I don't think you're hurt that bad, but what if you've got a concussion?" Hershel thought for a moment. If he had a concussion… sleeping would be a very bad idea indeed.

"Sorry." He said, trying to smile.

"Come on." Randall said, grinning back in relief. "Let's get you out of these ropes…" The boy said, as he began to slowly work the knots out of the bindings. "Do you have any idea why they did this?" He shook his head.

"Norwell." He said. "They thought I k-knew about the Wall." Randall paused, glancing up at his friend.

"So this is my fault…" Hershel's eyes widened, and he shook his head, despite how much it hurt.

"No! It's not your fault, Randall." He said, smiling at the boy. "You didn't" He paused, coughing. "You didn't intend for this. Not your fault." Randall smiled softly at his friend, turning back to the ropes and continuing his work at unknotting them.

"…There!" Randall said, after a while. The bindings fell limp to the floor, and despite how much it hurt, Hershel couldn't help but stretch his arms. Then groan as he was hit by a wave of pain from his many bruises. Randall darted around the chair, obviously wanting to help his friend but not knowing where to start.

"Hersh, are you okay?" Then, Randall's eyes hardened, and he spoke again. "Here, let me help." He took a step closer to the injured boy."I'll carry you."

"…You'll what?" Hershel said, glancing up confusedly at Randall once he didn't hurt so much. But Randall didn't respond, and Hershel wasn't given a choice - within moments, Hershel was draped over Randall's back, and the boy was walking slowly out the door, back the way he'd evidently came.

"How did you… find me?" Hershel whispered curiously. "Did they t-take you too?" Randall laughed quietly.

"No - I got impatient and decided to meet you in the market. Then I saw them kidnapping you, and followed them." He paused for a moment, likely trying to recall the directions he'd gone earlier. "Nobody kidnaps MY Hershel while I'm around." The injured boy blinked, surprised at what Randall had said.

"Yours…?" Hershel repeated. He glanced at Randall's face as best he could, waiting for an answer. "Randall… what you wanted to tell me…?"

"…That can wait, Hersh." Randall said, after a few minutes silence. "you just relax, I'll have us out of here soon." Then he laughed. "They don't have any guards at all, it was easy, getting in here." He turned his head to glance at Hershel for a moment. "I'm sorry it took so long to break you out." He said, returning his gaze to the hallway they were in. "I had to wait for that goon to leave; didn't think I could win a fight with him." He narrowed his eyes slightly, frowning. "I'm sorry."

Hershel let his head rest on Randall's shoulder, sighing tiredly. He knew why he was sleepy; it had already been after midnight when he'd left to go meet Randall, the lack of sleep was catching up with him.

"It's all right. I understand." He let out a short laugh. I probably wouldn't have been able to fight him, either." Silence for a few moments, as Randall slowly climbed a stairwell. "Next time…" Hershel began. "c-can we meet" He coughed again "during the day?" Randall laughed.

"Fine."

o0o

As Randall had said, the building contained no guards - though they'd had to pause a few times, wait for a black-suit to move on to wherever he was going.

"Are you sure you know where we are…?" Hershel asked, as they rounded another corner. Randall nodded.

"Of course!" He paused at a door. "This should be it." Hershel stared at his friend incredulously.

"It 'should be'…? You just said…!" Randall waved him off, and carefully opened the door.

Stansbury's outskirts.

"We're…still in Stansbury?" Hershel said. Randall nodded.

"Just outside of it, yeah." Hershel was silent for a moment.

"You know, we're going to have to explain everything…" He said. When Hershel was discovered with all these bruises, they wouldn't have any choice. People would ask questions, ones that they wouldn't be able to just dismiss with simply saying that they'd been play-fighting.

"Not everything." Randall replied. "We can leave out why I wanted to meet you, right?" Hershel sighed.

"Randall, about that… when you said 'my Hershel', did you mean…" His friend had made it sound… as though they were in a relationship. Hershel's eyes widened, and he blushed. "Randall, you-!" He stammered. "H-how long… have you…?" Randall looked away as he walked.

"… A while now." He let out a half-hearted laugh. "If you'll believe me, I was too scared to tell you."

"You were… scared? Of what?"

"Your reaction, mostly." Randall said, as they neared the still-quiet town. "I was scared you'd hate me." Hershel let himself relax.

"Randall, I don't hate you. You've been my best friend, ever since I moved here."

"So, how do you feel? About… you know?" Hershel was silent for a while, thinking. How DID he feel? Randall had just admitted to liking him as more than just a friend. But he, himself, had never had the thought cross hBut he, himself, had never had the thought cross his mind. He was certainly fond of Randall, would trust the boy with his life, even.

But did he LIKE him?

Well, it was time to experiment. In a quick movement - doing it before he could think about it - Hershel gave his friend a quick peck on the cheek. He could feel Randall tense, the boy obviously not having expected this.

"Hershel-!" Randall exclaimed, sounding surprised. Hershel remained silent, still thinking.

"Do you… want to try to…?" He trailed off. "I mean, I think… I think I'm willing to… try it out." He saw Randall grin, and couldn't help smiling himself.

"We can go slow, if you're not comfortable with it." Hershel was quiet for a moment.

"How are we gonna explain this to your parents?" Hershel said. "They hate me." Randall laughed.

"Well, they're gonna have to deal with it. Now come on. We have to get you home."

o0o0o0o

He had been aware of the red-haired boy 'breaking in' to save Hershel. Had known that if he left Hershel alone, the redhead would sneak in, get his friend, and leave. Initially he didn't like the boy being there, but then he'd relaxed.

Why not just let Hershel go? The boy didn't know anything. And by now, even though he had begun to suspect that it was the redhead that knew about the wall, and not Hershel, he would have to leave. Stansbury was a small town. People would begin to get suspiscious about the boy's wounds, and he doubted that the pair would keep it secret.

He would have to return later, and be less… sneaky, about it. Perhaps pretending to be a researcher? An archeologist that wanted to know about the Wall? Yes. That would work.

He would be seeing Hershel, and this little town called Stansbury, again, soon enough.