Chapter Three: Goodbyes and Suspicions.
By DeceptiveSoftness [ Softie ]
Bruno's hands were stuffed deep into his pockets as he watched the boxy, orange car drive away from the Village. The car itself wasn't anything especially interesting, though certainly unique, but it was it's precious cargo that held Bruno's attention. He wasn't the only one who was watching the car slowly drive away from the village. He wasn't the only one watching the Professor drive Flora away from the only home she'd ever known. Everyone, from Agnes to Ramon, was standing outside the Village wall staring solemnly at the retreating vehicle.
Whenever he'd thought about this day he'd always assumed it would be a happy occasion. He always imagined his creations laughing and waving and smiling as Flora drove away to her new home, content in the knowledge that her new guardian could keep her happy. Bruno had never thought that he would feel so wretched about watching little Flora leaving the village he'd helped build from scratch forever.
He should have been happy. He should have been waving the dear girl off with a smile instead of the grimace he'd been able to muster up before she'd gotten into the car. It was impossible though, to feel happy right now, as the shadow of that poor boy's death hung over the village like a storm cloud. His creations had become quite attached to the unfortunate lad during his short stay in the village and they were saddened by the news of his death.
It puzzled Bruno more than it upset him. The boy had definitely been alive when he left him in the alcove and yet when he brought the Professor back to that spot Luke was missing and all that was left was a curious trail of blood that led to a small puddle of oil, the type found beneath cars that had been left idle for too long.
Even his jacket was gone and he'd had to scrounge up a spare from the wreckage of the Tower. The boy's body was missing and without any definitive proof of his death Bruno got the feeling that the Professor was going to search high and low until he found out the truth. This wouldn't bother him except it meant that he would end up bringing Flora along with him on any investigations. Bruno had looked after the girl long enough to know that if there was anything she'd inherited from her father it was his stubbornness in the face of the impossible. If she was determined to follow the Professor then nothing the man could say would sway her.
The rest of the villagers stood side-by-side, some crying some smiling sadly, as the car turned around a bend in the road and disappeared from view. They were truly spectacular and the knowledge that he would have his creations as his faithful companions until the day he died lit a small flame of bitter comfort beneath Bruno's ribs. They had all be individually programmed to react differently to nearly every situation so even though they were united in their worry for their young mistress they all showed it in different ways.
Andrea had a comforting arm around a crying Lucy but looked like she was fighting back amused giggles at the distraught look on everyone else's faces. That was the way Andrea was. Kind to those she cared for but sharp and cruel to everyone else. Crouton still had dish cloth clasped in his hands and he was standing next to a quietly upset Flick who was passing a battered looking chess piece from hand to hand. Pauly was expressing his sadness the only way he knew how, by getting angry and he was red faced and glaring sullenly at the spot in the road where the car had disappeared.
They were all wonderful and they were all he had left. Bruno looked down at his hands, rough and calloused from years of hard work, and swallowed audibly. A few of his creations nearest to him glanced over with curious sympathy but for the most part ignored the old man standing a little away from the crowd. The very worst part about all this was that they didn't even know who he was. He couldn't walk into town and start up a conversation with any of them. He was their keeper, their creator, their father and their jailer.
And now with Flora gone he was the only living, breathing creature in a Village of robots. Bruno clenched his hands gently and looked without interest at the grit gathered beneath his nails. He would stay, of course, because if Flora ever needed a place to go it was up to Bruno to ensure that she had a home to return to. He'd promised the Baron he'd take care of his daughter and he wasn't going to stop just because she was no longer in the Village.
She hadn't taken the fortune with her, not that Bruno had ever expected her to, so she would probably return at some point in the future to reclaim it. For now she was content to let the money lie where it was but, when she was older and trying to eke out a living in a world outside of a Village catered to her every need, she would reconsider.
Bruno adjusted his cap, straightened his coat, and melted away from the crowd with a stealth born from years of hiding in the shadows. He had a new workshop to set up, the old one had been mostly destroyed when the Tower collapsed though he had been able to salvage some of his tools the rest would have to be rebuilt from scratch. Bruno flexed his fingers and stretched them above his head with a satisfying crack. He could mope later, right now he had work to do.
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Angelina stifled a yawn and placed a thin hand over her mouth as she blinked blearily out at the cluttered desk on front of her. She hated the night shift. It paid better than the day shift, certainly, but she missed getting a good eight hours sleep. The wards were always ghostly quiet this time of night with the occasional beep and whir of machines. The nurse stood from the plastic, fold-out chair and stretched out her hands on front of her, wincing when her knuckles cracked.
There were a few other nurses out and about this time of night but it was doubtful she'd run into them. The hospital was as large as it was understaffed and that was largely due to it's location. Angelina mused that the founder of the town must have had a twisted sense of humour when he named this place Lestchense.
Lestchense, Last Chance, last stop before endless country-side and rolling hills filled to the brim with nothing. Why someone would decided to build a town in the middle of no-where was beyond Angelina. She'd lived in Lestchense all her life. She'd been born in this very Hospital, had gone to school in the building across the town, left for a few years to attend University and then returned to the town to work. It was a quaint place and she liked it well enough but things rarely happened here.
At least until two days ago when Mr Carlton had rushed in with his dying nephew clutched to his chest. Because it was such a small, close-knit town the news that a stranger and his wounded nephew were in the Hospital had spread like wildfire throughout the entire town. The townspeople had done nothing but gossip about the poor man since he'd arrived and Angelina had to stop herself from laughing out loud at some of the more outrageous rumours.
They ranged from a rich, unknown prince who was trying desperately to protect his nephew, who was next in line for the thrown, from evil conspirators within the royal court to a pirate lord who'd chosen to give up a life on the sea to look after his nephew after his beloved sister had died except his past had caught up to him and he was on the run from his swashbuckling rivals. By the time poor Mr Carlton and Alexis finally got out of the hospital they'd either be revered as gods fallen to earth or reviled as crime lords escaping from the law. Angelina smiled to herself at the silliness of the townspeople.
She didn't even realise where her feet had been taking her until she found herself outside Alexis Carlton's room. It wasn't rare to have so few patients that they had a large excess of rooms. Normally that would spell the end to any Hospital but Lestchense had been set up by a wealthy man and even now, decades after his death, his money continued to fund half the important buildings in the town like the Police Station and the small Fire Station.
Angelina let out a small laugh at how her feet had led her to the very boy she'd been thinking about and with a shake of her head she pushed open the door. The room was as homey as things got in a Hospital. Alexis had quickly become something of a mascot for the rest of the nurses and they'd decorated his room with childish little touches they'd either bought or brought from home. A teddy bear sat at the end of the bed, a pile of picture books were stacked on the small bedside desk and a little bowl of sweets was resting on the chair in the corner.
It livened up the room a little but what really made Angelina smile was the sight of Mr Carlton stretched out on the spare bed with the sheets half strewn across the floor and his mouth wide open and snoring softly. He had practically demanded a bed so that he could stay near his nephew and despite her initial misgivings about the man Angelina found herself warming to the dedication he showed to the small boy.
She turned her eyes away from the snoozing man and looked at his nephew. Alexis was deathly pale and purple bruises smudged beneath his eyes. His brown hair was limp against the pillow and the scar on his forehead was red raw and the stitches stood out starkly against the aggravated flesh. Beneath the blanket Angelina knew he was practically covered in bandages. His right arm was in a special cast that was elevated above the bed and his chest looked bulky beneath the sheets from the sheer amount of bandages wrapped around him. Yesterday, before she'd taken the bandage off his head, he'd looked like an Egyptian mummy.
The sight of the unconscious child awoke maternal instincts Angelina didn't know she had and she hummed a soft tune under her breath as she tucked the boy in properly and checked his IV bag. It was okay for now but she'd come back and change it in around an hour. For now they were deliberately keeping him unconscious to give his body time to adjust to the horrific accident he had been through, but it was still sad to see the lad so unresponsive. Mr Carlton seemed to take it especially hard and whenever he received an update about his nephews condition he would scowl and pace and mutter under his breath.
Angelina wished she could console him but she'd learnt very early on to never give people a false sense of hope as it just made things a thousand times more difficult if something did go wrong. All she could do was assure him that Alexis was stable for the moment and that he would just have to give him some time to recover. It was a miracle that the boy was even alive but Angelina knew that he would pull through just fine. Despite his frail appearance she had a feeling that he was a real fighter inside and that he'd work with all his might to return to full health. It would just be a matter of time.
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Don Paolo cracked open an eye to make sure that nosy nurse had left before opening the other and sitting upright on the bed, wincing as the cheep sheets rustled and crackled beneath him. The thin, Hospital issue mattress was comfy enough but he couldn't get to sleep. He kept odd hours and rarely had a full nights sleep even when he wasn't hiding away from the law in plain sight with a kidnapped, comatose child. The dark shadows smudged beneath his eyes were a bit more prominent than usual and the fuse of his temper was swiftly fraying with every day that passed.
He had intended to get the boy treated and then fade quickly into the darkness with no-one the wiser. But it appeared that he'd underestimated just how severe the boy's injuries where. A broken arm was no trouble once it was in a sling and even his ribs would be fine if he was careful but Don Paolo hadn't counted on the head injury. It would be tantamount to murder if he spirited the boy away when he was in this state. Anything dealing with the brain was tricky business and it was better for now to keep him in the Hospital where he would receive all the help he needed.
Of course, if the police came here then he'd have no quarrel with taking the boy away, consequences be damned. Right now it cost him nothing but time to ensure that the boy-Alexis regained his health but he couldn't very well get his revenge from behind the bars of a jail cell. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood silently, narrowing his eyes that the prone form of the child on the bed opposite.
There was no telling when, or even if, Alexis would wake up. For now the nurse had told him that they were keeping him unconscious using drugs to give his body a chance to heal itself but they would be taking him off those in a day or two and after that it was up to Alexis to wake himself up.
Don Paolo groaned and rubbed tiredly at his temples and scowled when his fingers met smooth plastic rather than warm flesh.
He'd managed to slip away for a few hours after he'd first checked the boy in to fix the material of his mask. It was less itchy but wearing it for any length of time was annoying, especially since it had given him a small, though incredibly irritating, rash along his cheeks and neck before he'd fixed it. Even though the new mask was better it still aggravated the rash and made wearing it insufferable.
Don Paolo stifled the urge to slip his fingers beneath the mask and scratch at the abused skin. The nurse could come back any minute and the last thing he needed was her stumbling into the room to see him with his hand shoved underneath what appeared to be his face. He padded across the room and gazed down at the boy.
If he was honest, which he rarely was even to himself, he could admit that the lad looked like a corpse and if it wasn't for the slight rise and fall of the blankets over his chest then he could easily have mistaken him for a dead child. His skin was waxy and he was unnaturally still. It was just plain strange to see such an annoying, loud, obnoxious and lively brat lying there looking like a sickly porcelain doll.
He ran a hand down his face and glanced out the window. It was still dark out and thanks to his disguise as a concerned young relative he couldn't exactly leave the Hospital without a word. Don Paolo shot the unconscious child a half-hearted glare and then opened the door of the room and stepped out into the corridor. He really needed to take a walk, clear his head and plan out the next part of his dastardly scheme. If one of the nurses caught him he'd be able to tell them the honest truth for once. He couldn't get to sleep so he was stretching his legs and thinking about his 'nephew'.
For all his talk about making the boy his apprentice he didn't quite know what that actually entailed. For the most part the boy seemed to be Layton's lapdog. He carried his bag, kept him company, solved puzzles for him, and praised him non-stop. While the idea of a lapdog who lavished flattery on him at every turn was appealing it wasn't exactly what Don Paolo wanted. The boy seemed bright enough when he was awake and not speaking so it was possible he could learn the intricate art of disguise. Nearly all of Don Paolo's plans would go much smoother if he had another person to count on.
Back in St Mystere was a perfect example. If he had of had an apprentice back then he could have simply ordered him to take the robot out of the Village in the spare flying machine and then Don Paolo would have had a brilliant specimen to tinker with. If he had of been able to get that robot out of that blasted Village then he could have unravelled it's secrets in mere days and got to work building his own army of robotic minions.
But he'd been alone and he had lost his stolen robot but he had managed to gain something infinitely more valuable, Layton's apprentice himself. Though what had started out as a twisted form of revenge was actually beginning to take shape and turn into something useful. He had never even considered getting an apprentice. It wasn't that he didn't want one or couldn't find one but it had genuinely never occurred to him, before now that is.
It would be easy to recruit the boy with tales of how his precious Professor had abandoned him in favour of the fair lady Flora. It would be beyond simple to twist Layton's saintly image into something worth hating to the boy. He was a child and with enough proof children believe everything. And as long as the boy hated Layton and he himself hated Layton they would be united. The enemy of my enemy is my friend and all that jazz.
Don Paolo chuckled evilly to himself and barely managed to stop from rubbing his hands together like a stereotypical cartoon villain. He would trick the boy, train him and then unleash him and all his misguided hatred onto the man he once hero worshipped.
[-]
Angelina stared wide eyed at the retreating back of Mr Carlton and shuddered lightly as he let out a small, evil laugh that echoed faintly in the dark of the corridor. There was something not right with that man. She was sure that there were a hundred logical reasons for him to awake during the middle of the night and pacing the Hospital corridors like a mad man but she couldn't think of any right now.
The dark chuckled sent small shivers of fear down her spine and she gripped her elbows tightly as she leaned back against the wall and thanked God that he hadn't seen her. She was concealed in the shadows of a nearby alcove. Behind her rested a portrait of the Hospitals founder and his pale, painted eyes stared past her to gaze disapprovingly at Mr Carlton as he turned a corner and went out of sight.
Angelina knew in her mind that he probably couldn't sleep because he was worried about his nephew. She knew in her mind that he was probably laughing out of desperation, or genuine humour over something funny he thought of. She knew in her mind that he was probably a perfectly normal man and that she had no reason to be afraid of him.
But her heart beat like the wings of a startled bird and her every instinct sang warnings to stay away from the man with the terrifying laugh. Her palms were slick with sweat and nervous butterflies kicked up a storm in her stomach. Angelina pushed off the wall with a shaking hand and then half ran, half flew back to her office.
Whatever her mind told her Angelina knew that there was something very, very wrong with Mr Carlton. Her hands tightened around the plastic arms of her chair and she stared at the chipping plaster on the ceiling. Whatever it was she was determined to find out. She couldn't in good conscience leave little Alexis with a man as strange was Mr Carlton. She would get to the bottom of this even if it killed her.
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A/N: Hehehe, I know that not a lot happens in this chapter but to be honest there isn't a lot that can happen at this point so I'm just focusing on developing the characters. Luke/Alexis will probably wake up in the next chapter but that means that I'm going to have to write that in a small series of time skips to make it half-way believable.
Another reason for this chapter not being as action-y as I would like is because I am completely, utterly and irrevocably terrified of writing Layton. Every time I start to write out his POV my hands get shaky, my palms get sweaty, I get all shivery and then I need to go get a calming cup of tea before I can even think about finishing off the chapter.
Initially I had a small snippet in his POV after Bruno's at the start of the chapter but I just couldn't write it. I will have to get around to writing him eventually but I am quite terrified of screwing up his character so I'll probably put it off for a few chapters yet.
On another, completely unrelated, point I've recently finished Professor Layton and the Unwound Future and let me just say that I hope Bill Hawks is kidnapped and tortured to within an inch of his life and then thrown to a pack of man eating horses. Anyone else feel they same? Feel free to PM and discuss.
Thanks a bunch for reading this and I hope you enjoyed it.
If you liked it then please review and even if you didn't like it please review anyway and tell me why you thought it sucked. =P
-Softie.