En-Route to Layton Brothers

Summary: Is everyone in Layton's family line suppose to be 'gentlemanly' perfect? Al doesn't know that when he arrived to his father's home for the first time

Genre: Family

Character: Alfendi L. & Hershel L.

I was supposed to continue my pokemon story and came up with this instead…after playing Layton Brothers: Mystery Room.

Al is probably the most complicated at the same time hilarious character I've ever seen. This opening is a little angst? I guess…

One more thing. We don't know who the professor married to make Al born. We could scratch out Claire –though I really like Layton and Claire- since she died after Unwound Future. I scratch out Emmy by my own initiative since she is…well, spoiler. So Al's mother remains anon!

Read and Enjoy

PROLOGUE

It was raining.

There are not that many things to do when it is raining. For one certain individual though, it is the perfect time to muster up in his files and books with a teacup full with warm tea. One Hershel Layton is perhaps the only human in London who is not cuddling inside the warm bed and prayed for the storm to pass.

The sound of thunders signified that simple fact. It was no drizzle but the storm that the whole city is facing. The amount of water pouring already proved that no one sane would brave this kind of weather.

So it would be plainly bizarre to hear hasty knocks on his front door.

The knocks were swift, yet so fleeting that if he spoke at that moment, it would go unheard. Marking his page, he got up from his chair, stepping toward the door. After a few years, he stopped sleeping inside his office and moved to a small house just a few blocks down from the university. Living in one small house was clearly ease his house work. Especially with Rosa offering him her help to clean the room. He's thankful for the woman's help since he has almost no time to do so.

Turning the lock on his door, he pushed the knob and pulled it open. The harsh, cold wind greeted the professor with slabs of water to his face. Wiping his eyes, he barely heard soft cries in front of him. He looked down, keeping one hand on his top hat and other hand above his eyes to see. And there is a boy standing there, looking up at him with determined, but glossy eyes. As if he wanted to cry but his pride got in the way. The boy was thoroughly soaked and his eyes are puffy red. He just stayed there, staring at him, silently begged for shelter.

Without thinking, he pulled the boy in and shoved the door to a close. Dripping water, the boy just stood there, motionless, waiting for the other to make move first. So he kneeled beside him and smiled, "Hello, young one, do you need my help?" he said. The boy looked down, his eyes darted between the floor and his feet. "Do you want some warm tea? I'll put honey and milk so it won't be bitter" he cheerily added. The boy nodded slowly.

He ushered the boy to his sofa, ignoring the fact that he could drench the couch. Making his way to the kettle on his stove, he opened the cabinet. He should put some honey or milk to sweeten his tea whenever Luke came so he must've some. Retrieving a small bottle of milk and half-filled honey jar, he turned the stove on. The boy stayed silent while the tea came to a boil and milk and honey added considerably into the brown liquid, changing it to a slight light brown.

"Here you go…" he offered the boy a mug of the liquid. The boy silently received it, mumbling muted thanks and guzzled it down. He coughed almost immediately and his face turned red. Taking the mug out, he gave him the bottle of milk he had been holding –the leftover from the bottle of milk- that the boy took and downed with a massive gulp.

"Now, just drink it slowly, enjoy the warmth scent and sip. Don't gulp, but sip it gently" he gave him the mug again and the boy did just that, easily finishing the tea within seconds. He took the time observing the boy before him. The boy has burgundy hair, not entirely red not entirely purple, a lovely mixture of both. His eyes were puffy, but between the red streaks, he noticed the color of the bright sun in the orbs. His nose sticks out the most perhaps and he meant it in literal way.

Hesitantly, the boy pulled a letter out of his pocket. It's a bit damp, but not broken enough for the ink to fade away. He accepted the letter and began unfolding it. The boy just watched him from the side, fiddling with his thumb nervously.

Dear Hershel,

Once you read this letter, then I presume you already met him. Don't make assumption first, Hershel, I know you're tempted to solve the puzzle that is the boy immediately. But patience is a virtue, dear and a gentleman knows when to have patience. First thing that I should clear up is that I never regret on leaving you on that day. You've become a great man. If there is a regret that I shall suffer from is the fact that I mustn't be by your side when you achieve all of that. I had to leave you because of the work that you're dealing with and the work that had yet to come for you. You have bright future, and even brighter if I didn't stay.

Choosing that path was hurting me more than anything, Hershel, you should know. I know it hurt you too. But I also know you're a strong man and will be able to walk the path of life even without me nor the little life inside me. You probably was stressed that I unlocked a Super Hint for you, I should have let you tap somewhere in this letter for it, but I did not wish to make this more complex than it was supposed to be. I simply left you because I want you to chase your dream. And you succeeded didn't you? Congratulation to the great professor of the Academy!

The boy carries your name. Everyone in the resident loves that boy. His appearance never reminds me of you at all, Hershel, but his brilliant intelligence kept me from missing you fully. He fancies all the puzzles just like you. I've run out of puzzle for him to solve and he began searching for his own daily portion of thinking. And he was only five for goodness sake. They said that he is one extraordinary kid. I might agree to that for he had one extraordinary dad.

You might ask me why the boy is there with you. Let's just simplified the reason and says that life goes on Hershel and so do I. I…move on…by the time you're reading this letter, I must've used my one way ticket to oblivion. This is my last wish Hershel, something that I can't accomplish by my own strength. Please take care of him. Please take care of Alfendi Layton.

Yours Truly

He was trembling when the letter finished. His eyes were glossy and if he blinked, he knew tears would flow from the corner of his eyes. The boy sat there, waiting for the adult to comprehend the whole letter. He realized that there's too much news that suddenly being shoved to the man and it took times for him to process it to his mind. Playing with a few strands of his red hair, he unconsciously hummed. The other blinked at him, a single tear rolled on his cheek.

He shouldn't be like this. Crying over the dead is normal. But to show weakness in front of a child who looked up to you as his guardian? That is a very big no in his dictionary. He wiped his eyes and placed both his hands to the boy's shoulder, causing him to stare at his beady eyes.

"Welcome home, Al…"

…

It was supposed to be a one-shot, but I put prologue in the front so...it'll have another chapter

Urgh, if I put it that way…it sounded like I didn't like writing it at all did I? But I do like writing it and honestly, I've been longing to write one fic about Layton and there we have it! Just hope I have the will to continue it till the very end!

Till the next chapter, my friend…

nb: I suspect it will be a long time before I can post another update for this...