This is my first Professor Layton Fanfic, so sorry if it's bad!

I own nothing but the story line (unfortunately)

Clive's POV

My eyes quickly scanned the room. No one else was here except the lady at the waiting room's counter. She kept glancing at me, like she was scared to actually look. I felt terrible, yes, but as if I was only some spectacle. I felt like I was just something for people to look at and say 'hey look, there's the boy who almost destroyed London!' When I meet someone, I don't hear 'Hi' or 'Good morning', I hear 'You're that criminal boy aren't you?' Yes, it does bug me, but it's not like I meet someone new too often in jail.

Layton came walking through the door, along with the judge who had given me my sentence. He smiled at me, but left the judge to explain how everything went. Things had to have gone well. I've been a perfect gentleman, even in jail.

"You are released under special circumstances, Mr. Dove," the judge said, "However, you remain under the supervision of Professor Hershel Layton until further notice, and should you commit any crime, Hershel will be at fault along with you."

I was stunned. Layton was putting a considerable amount of trust in me for someone who tried to kill him. Should I act up again, Layton gets the same sentence I get.

Besides being shocked, I was irritated that the judge had used my adopted name. I hated being called Clive Dove. I always preferred using my real parents' surname, Carter. Constance had allowed me to keep that surname, using Carter for everything that required my full name, including my schooling and visits to the doctor. Until she passed away, I was exactly who I wanted to be, even if I was insane.

I stood and walked silently to Layton's car. Not a word was exchanged. I was certainly grateful he had gotten me out of that jail cell, but hadn't the slightest clue on how to put it into words.

We drove off, the only sound in the vehicle being the purr of the engine. I found it hard to even look in the man's direction. It was an odd sensation I never really felt before, like I was disappointed in myself for letting the Professor down.

"Clive," Layton said, barely more audible than a whisper, "I'm not angry with you."

It was heartrending to hear Layton say that. I never would have thought he was angry, just…

But I really didn't know what I thought.

"I… I know," I managed, my voice wavering, "Professor… Thank you."

I could see his eyes in the rear view mirror, and for the moment that I could see him, and he could see me, we both understood each other. Both of us were still bearing the scars of having lost a loved one, and both were still unsure of exactly how to forget the sadness.

I also realized in that moment, not the two lonely months in jail, that I had nothing left. Nothing besides a lot of cash and Layton. Yes, I realize two months is a very, very short time in jail to be complaining about, but it was hard not to go crazy again.

"I'm sorry," I blurted out, my voice still uneven. The Professor gave me a perplexed look through the mirror but left me to explain.

"I'm sorry I lied to you. I'm sorry I led you along. I'm sorry I kidnapped Flora. I'm sorry that I almost killed you, that I almost killed everyone in London, and most of all, that I forgot that you went through the same thing I went through," I said quickly.

Layton's face was blank, emotionless.

"What's in the past is in the past," he said. I could tell from his voice that he was remembering Claire. Perhaps even recalling the day everything went wrong, the day he saved my life for the first time.

The rest of the ride was silent. I still didn't have the back-bone to look in Layton's direction, so I was thankful that I had sat in the back of the Layton mobile.

Layton's house wasn't large, but it was big enough. Out of the hustle and bustle of the city, Layton's house sat backed by some trees and a midsized pond with a sizable amount of land around it, big enough for a family.

I silently got out of the car and followed Layton into the house. It was a cozy place, with comfortable furniture and tasteful art hanging on the walls. A fine wooden bookshelf lined one wall in the living room, stuffed with books of all colors and sizes. A half wall separated the kitchen from the living room.

Flora sat at a small round table in the kitchen. She ran forward to hug Layton when he walked in, smiling. She was dressed in an orange sundress with boots. She also had on a cooking apron splattered with flour and… egg? Butter? I really couldn't tell.

Then, her eyes found me. She let go of Layton and stared me down. I simply cocked one eyebrow and followed Layton, who was walking down the hall at this point. I don't believe her face could possibly get any redder than it was.

"This will be your room," Layton said. The sign on the door said 'guest room'. I suppose I was a guest.

The room was a calming green with a view of the pond out the window. It looked like the room I had always wanted. There were two beds in the room. I guess after Luke and Flora started to stay here, Layton wanted to make sure he had enough room for guests.

"All of your belongings are already in here," Layton said. He smiled and started to leave, then paused.

"Dinner will be ready in ten minutes." And with that, he walked out the door and closed it. I checked the dresser. Indeed, everything was there, but something was still missing. I removed my backpack and set it on the bed closest to the window. I rummaged through it until I found what I was looking for, an invitation to the upcoming Dove ball. It's held every year in honor of my adoptive mother's grandmother, Delilah Dove. It's an invitation only ball for the wealthiest and most prestigious families or individuals. Constance insisted that I not go while I was younger, as she was much too elderly to take me and she wouldn't stand for me going by myself. But now I'm fifteen, and Constance isn't around anymore.

It was planned for tomorrow night. I figured, what better way to remember Constance? Sure, I didn't exactly love her like my parents, but I was always grateful for having her. Never did I take her for granted, and that, I believe, is why it stunned me so much when she died. I didn't care about the money. I never cared about the money. It was simply a bonus.

Then I spotted something else in my bag that I hadn't really seen in a long time. A brown leather belt with six pokeballs clipped onto it sat at the bottom of my bag. I remembered it distinctly, along with the Pokémon inside.

I zippered my backpack and stuffed it in a drawer. I don't have time for those little kid games anymore. Pokémon was nothing but a dream, and this is the real world now. I thought I had learned that in jail.

I plopped in bed and stared at the ceiling. Five minutes passed before I made my way back into the kitchen.

I sat down at the table along with Layton. Flora practically dropped three plates on the table filled with slop.

"I made it myself!" Flora said proudly. The Professor didn't look too happy about his meal either. I took that as I have to eat this and pretend to enjoy it. As I'm sure the professor would say, a gentleman never acts ungrateful for a meal. Besides, the more Flora likes me, the less of a chance I have of waking up in the pond.

I hope you enjoyed it! :D Clive says to review or he won't tell you any more of his story!