WARNING: This is rated K+ for mention and thoughts of suicide.
Hey guys! So I just finished Professor Layton and the Azran Legacy, and was inspired to write a one-shot based off of "Alone Again (Naturally)" by Gilbert O'Sullivan. There aren't any pairings, but two possible options for Professor Layton's wife are hinted upon at the end. (if you've played Layton Brothers, you'll understand. If not it doesn't matter) I won't be touching upon the spiritual part of the song. (concerning that, though, this song truly is the ultimate tragedy. Not only is he miserable and ready to kill himself, but he doesn't even believe in God! That is like… The most tragic part of it all… D: )
Just one word, 'Andrew'. The only word on the tombstone sitting in the graveyard. Just one man, just one woman, standing beside the stone; staring blankly.
"Are you gonna be ok?" He looked at her, she looked at him. "Well?" He looked away, finding it hard to find an answer to her impossible question. She saw a tear fall down his cheek red from previous tears. "I'll take that as a no…" She sighed and looked back at the grave.
"Why are you here, exactly?" She was surprised, but delighted to finally get a word out of him.
"He was an archaeologist, all fellow archaeologists and aspiring archaeologists should go to the funeral and burial when one dies!"
"What I mean is, why are you still here? You didn't know him well…"
"I wanted to make sure you were going to be ok." She said as she looked down to her feet.
"Thank you, Ms. Stone." This caught her by surprise. Finally, her teacher was sounding like himself again! She looked up at him and smiled a broken smile.
"You're welcome, Professor L."
An hour passed silently before Rosetta Stone finally turned to leave.
"I've gotta go, now." She said. "I've gotta finish my paper on the Azran. Do you want to walk with me? I can keep you company until you get home." He shook his head slightly. She sighed; she would never get him to cheer up right now. It would take a little while if ever. "Ok, see you at your next lecture." He nodded.
"See you…"
Professor Layton walked into his home. Turning like a dead man walking to the clock to see what time it was. '4 am...' He thought to himself. 'I was there a long time…' He had to get up at six o'clock, so he found no purpose to go to sleep. He went to the kitchen to boil his own water for tea.
He sat with his lonely tea cup filled with lonely green tea. A dark, empty room surrounding him; a sad, empty heart inside his aching chest. He looked up over his cooling cup to see a picture album atop a chair, a postcard atop that. He placed his cup down beside him and went to go grab the album and postcard before seating himself back down.
'Greetings from San Grio!' Said the postcard with a picture of a lovely, lush, tropical landscape on the front. The back of the postcard had a picture, and a message.
'We're having a great time here in San Grio!' The message stated. 'it's already starting to feel like home to Umid and I! Love you!' The picture showed a beautiful young woman of about twenty-something. Light brown hair, captivating eyes. And a handsome, tan-skinned man of about the same age. The professor sighed and set the postcard beside his teacup. He had only had a couple of years with his beautiful daughter, Flora, before a young boy he had once helped came and won her heart. They were married only a month before they had decided to move half way across the world… That was three years ago.
Looking down at the album, he read the word 'Memories' about ten times before he ever so slowly opened it up. The first thing he saw was an old, tattered picture he had received from an unknown source in the mail. It pictured a family of four; a mother, a father, and two little boys. Rachael… That name always captivated him for some unknown reason, until he learnt of his past… His mother Rachael Bronev. Leon Bronev, his 'father' only biologically. Hershel Bronev; the eldest boy who had his father's eyes. And finally, Theodore Bronev, the little boy who had his mother's eyes.
The flashback came, his parents were kidnapped, his brother taken from him. His brother's name given to him. 'Hershel…' He thought. 'Hershel…'
He set the picture atop the postcard, and looked at the cover page of the album. There was a picture of a ten-year-old Hershel smiling brightly with his adoptive parents. Then there was a picture of a sixteen-year-old Hershel with his two best friends, Randall and Angela. Then, a picture of a twenty-one-year-old Hershel with his two collage buddies, Clark and Brenda, and his love, Claire, all of them sleepy and studying, with their teacher, Andrew, trying to be funny and giving Clark rabbit ears. Another picture was of a thirty-five-year-old Professor Layton with his apprentice and friend Luke being surprised by a surprise selfie of his former assistant, Emmy. And finally, a picture of a thirty-nine-year-old Professor Layton and Luke in tuxedos, standing next to Flora in a wedding gown and Umid in a tuxedo as well. The flashbacks came flooding fast, too fast.
First it was Randall and him going on an adventure, they were fighting robot mummies one moment, the next Randall was telling him he wanted to marry Angela, and then, he fell, with the mask so precious to him at the time, down to what Hershel thought was his death. He saw the grave, the look on Angela's face when she was told the love of her life was gone. He saw himself being scolded by his parents and then leaving… for what seemed like forever. He then saw Randall back, as the masked gentleman. A bittersweet discovery to be sure. After all was right again, Hershel left once more, not to see them again for quite some time. They were never meant to stay best friends for ever.
He then saw Clark and Brenda going to study in another country. He saw Claire giving him a new top hat after he had gotten a new job as a professor of archaeology. He saw her leave to test something out at the lab she worked at, he saw the remains of the lab after the explosion, he saw little Clive. He saw himself at home, trying to figure out what had happened. He saw his eyes opening after getting a cruel beating for it. He saw himself as he realized just what he was… Alone again. He saw her walk into that alleyway to die once again… He shifted thoughts.
He saw Emmy putting an icicle to Luke's neck, and leaving even after repenting. He saw Luke and his parents leaving on a ferry to America. He saw Flora leaving on her honeymoon with new husband.
He saw his father, his face in cold death. He remembered how he cried, never wishing to hide the tears. At sixty-five-years-old, his mother just couldn't understand why the only man she had ever loved had been taken. Leaving her to start with a heart so badly broken. Despite encouragement from him, no words were ever spoken again between the two. He saw her when she passed away, he'd cried and cried all day. Then his teacher died and here he was again, alone again, naturally.
He closed the book as quickly and as hard as he possibly could. Breathing deeply and trying with all his might not the cry his eyes out. He held his eyes shut so tightly they hurt. Hugging himself with this album that held so many dear memories, he thought for a moment or two before setting it down and going to get a piece of paper and a pen.
He scribbled down a note before falling asleep where he sat. Never to be seen for another week.
She went quickly over to his home. She had never been there before, but all the students had his address for emergency purposes. This, as Rosetta knew, was one of them. She knocked lightly on the door, hoping for an answer.
Nothing.
She knocked harder.
Nothing.
"Professor! It's me, Rosetta! I baked you some brownies!" She called out. Nothing once more. "Professor, I know you're in there! You're lights are still on! Look, I know I may seem overbearing, but I'm just trying to help! That's all I've ever wanted to do was help! When I first met you, you were so sad. Dean Delmona said your assistant had left. I wanted to help you feel better! Please, let me in!" She looked down to see the key card to the professor's room, sitting of the ground, with a note saying "Go ahead, come in." attached to it. Rosetta picked it up, and, ripping off the note, she opened the door and walked inside.
"It's just like his office." She said to herself as she observed the books and papers scattered about all over the place.
"Please, Professor! Where are you?" Nothing. She sighed as she went over to observe the little table beside one of his chairs. On top of it was an cold, untouched cup of tea, a postcard of San Grio, a picture of a little family, an album, and a note with the words 'To Anyone' on the front. She took the note and turned it around to read.
"'To anyone?'" She asked herself. She read the note with heavier and heavier a heart as it went on.
"In a little while from now, if I'm not feeling any less sour, I promise myself to treat myself and visit a nearby tower. And climbing to the top, will throw myself off, in an effort to make it clear to whoever what it's like when you're shattered.
To think that only yesterday I was cheerful, bright and gay. Looking forward to who wouldn't do the role I was about to play. But as if to knock me down, reality came around. And without so much as a mere touch cut me into little pieces. In my hour of need I truly am indeed alone again, naturally.
It seems to me that there are more hearts broken in the world that can't be mended, left unattended. What do we do?
Looking back over the years, and whatever else that appears: I remember I cried when my father died, never wishing to hide the tears. And at sixty-five years old, my mother couldn't understand why the only man she had ever loved had been taken. Leaving her to start with a heart so badly broken. Despite encouragement from me, no words were ever spoken. And when she passed away, I cried and cried all day. Alone again, naturally."
Rosetta gasped, looking at a map atop the chair to see the tower he had marked on it so that someone may find him… eventually. And, without a second thought, she ran. His door stayed open, but she didn't even notice. She ran like never before, with hope in her heart that he had left that note just now, not a long time ago. She finally came upon the place he had marked, to see him, standing on the top, staring at the ground.
"Professor!" She cried out to him. He looked at her solemnly.
"Why are you here?" He asked her.
"I was kind of hoping to get you to reconsider!"
"What's the point? Everyone I've ever loved is gone."
"Randall, Angela, Clark, Brenda, Luke and Flora are still here."
"I haven't heard from Randall, Angela, Clark, Brenda or Luke. And Flora… She's not planning on coming back, I know it."
"Don't be like that, Professor! There are still people here, in London, who love you."
"My parents are dead! Andrew, dead! Claire, DEAD! Everyone else… GONE!" He said, almost disregarding what Rosetta said.
"They may come back! Give it a day, a week! Either one of them will come back or other people who love you will come into your life!"
"So that they can leave me?"
"Randall and Angela came back after leaving."
"I haven't heard from them in years, they've moved on."
"Clark and Brenda came back."
"They haven't written either."
"You're parents came back into your life after you left!"
"THEY'RE DEAD! Don't you understand? If I love again, my heart can only be broken once more."
"Who knows, maybe you'll be the one dying on them!"
He didn't answer to that.
"The world will never be the same without you, Professor!"
"Well it'll have to lose me someday anyways!"
"Well we don't want to lose you this early, Professor! We can't live without you, no one in Gressenheller, no one in London, we'd all be in a terrible state if you left us now! We can't live without you… I CAN'T LIVE WITHOUT YOU!" And at that, she broke down in an endless flood of tears. Layton couldn't stand to see a girl cry. The gentle touch of a man's hand met Rosetta's shoulder. She looked up to see Professor Layton, safe on the ground beside her.
"Did you walk all the way over here?" She nodded. "Come on, let's get you home. You're probably tired." Without a word, she let him help her up and hold her trembling body in an upright position, her arm around his shoulder for support, as he took her home.
A week later, the professor had still not gone to a single lecture, but took an at home vacation to help recover. One day, he heard a knock on his door. The first knock on his door he had heard since Luke knocked on it when he and his family came for Flora's wedding. He opened it to see Rosetta, smiling ear to ear, behind a young woman. Long, brown hair dazed the line between fantasy and reality. Those crystal eyes piecing into his memory like a knife to butter.
"I heard from Rosetta here that you could use an assistant again?" She stated softly in her familiar British acccent. He couldn't answer, but simply smiled and nodded. "Good! I've already spoken with Dean Delmona, and he's already hired me!" She giggled. "In the process, Rosetta and I met this cute student named Alfendi, and we both agreed that, if we had sons, we would definitely name them that!"
The professor smiled that night as he rested his head on his pillow peacefully for the first time in over two weeks. Four words rung through his mind time and time again as he closed his eyes to sleep:
I'm whole again, finally