I feel like this one could be better. I'm most likely going to rewrite it, to be able to hit the words I wanted later, but I needed to figure out my drought of Lucifendi ahaha.
It was really a phenomenon, this whole soulmate thing. For all the science in the world, nobody could really tell why they appeared except for the fact that they did.
If she had the choice, she would rather have prefered her soulmate be made, from her own desires rather than predestined. Sure, by all standards, she could love anyone she wanted to. The words on her wrist weren't meant to be so she could figure out who was her soulmate. It was supposed to be for when it was too late-to damn the human race in such feeling that even she couldn't quite figure out.
It was a painful truth. The soulmate words on her wrist were supposedly meant for her soulmate's last words. It could be mundane. It could be something like, "I'll be down in a minute!" or perhaps "It'll be 7.34, m'am." It could be chilling, moreso like, "Did you lock the door?" or "I think I heard something downstairs." Even the smaller children weren't free, especially if one was a mother and the words on the kid's wrist were something along the lines of, "My mom told me I could go today!" or "Which teacher do you have?" and there was nothing that could be done.
Had the roles been reversed and the soulmates were revolved around the first words someone said, it would probably been considered a cute way to meet someone.
Lucy's words were a little more on the ominous side. For two reasons. One, they were two phrases. Two, they weren't a match between her wrist. The first phrase was on her left, with the other on her right.
Baker, I told that fool to tell you from the start!
You won't leave me, will you my dear Lucy?
It made no sense. What fool? What did they need to say? Who was she leaving?
Better yet, the question remained on: how did they get to that point? Would her soulmate be delivering her death? Would her soulmate be apologizing because they couldn't stop something? Would they be apologizing for leaving her? The words were so vague she couldn't determine what it could be.
It brought more questions than answers. She lived her whole life in fear of someone telling that to her, those words in tandem. It was lucky that nobody ever did. It was typically the other way around or omitting one half of the phrase.
It came to it's head when she was with the Prof. She began to suspect something afoot when she had first met her beloved mentor. In a normal situation, she wouldn't have questioned it-people tend to be unpredictable in their mannerisms when certain things were said. But even this, she couldn't ignore.
"I'm Alfendi Layton. Inspector Layton around here." The man introduced himself, a hand outstretched. She took it with firmness, something her father taught her early on. He smiled, "Please don't feel obligated to stick to formalities when you address me." She thought for a moment.
"Oh well, then. Seeing that you'll be showing me the ropes or whatnot, how about I call you 'Prof'?" The mere word caused him to raise an eyebrow, his breath caught and whatever mask he was attempting to have suddenly ripped from his face at the mere mention of 'Prof.' If she didn't know any better, she'd say that hearing such a way that she planned to address him caused a shift. He was quiet for a full half minute, thoughts spiraling in his mind. His eyes were examining her features, from head to toe in a strange manner that Lucy could even attribute to be creepy. "Err...is that okay?"
"I'm not sure that's entirely appropriate," he said, a mask of professionalism returning to his features. "Certainly my father, who was an actual university professor, would not approve." The response caused her to file what she had witness at the back of her head.
"Well, you did say that there's no need to stick to formalities didn't you? 'Prof' it is then!" Her excitement was draining him, Lucy could tell. Even though he had his demeanor settled, he didn't seem to be much of a people person. At least people in his space-this...messy and certainly unkempt space.
"Hm. Just bear in mind that I haven't yet decided if this will be a permanent position for you or not." Lucy raised an eyebrow at that. He certainly wasn't pulling any punches with her. No matter, she was going to do what she wanted. That certainly was an overreaction on his part.
He never let her see his wrists. Never a single slip up. If his wrists had a chance of showing, he purposefully fixed his movements that it would be absolutely impossible to see unless time moved slowly. Never a single moment did the man remove his coat or his hands from his pockets, if he could avoid it.
It was an understandable notion, as not everyone wanted to divulge in what their soulmate would say to them last. She tried prying it out of him during a late evening of paperwork, a few months after her instatement in the Mystery Room permanently.
"Prof, you never mentioned what the final words of your soulmate are." Lucy said, closing the case file. She was a little faster on the writing, even being quite the chatterbox. The Prof didn't look up.
"There was never reason for it." He said in a calm manner, though the way he used the pen on the paper caused her to raise an eyebrow.
"I beg to differ. This whole case was surrounded by the concept of the audiotape proving that the man was the murderer of his soulmate and our victim through his wrist and hers."
"And that requires me to mention such a fact?" She felt her cheeks turn a slight pink. It was still above her to ask something so personal to her mentor. She scratched the back of her head, her wrist showing clear as day to him. She hardly made an effort to cover it up.
"I dunno. Sorry. The case just made me think." She smiled sheepishly to him.
"Why?" The conversation seemed more interesting than the paperwork to the Prof, as he shut the file with segue.
"It's unfortunate, innit? For someone to have the last words they said to someone be etched into that same someone's wrist if they were soulmates? Like with Mr. Darrick," she referred to the case, "The last words on his wrist were, 'Jojo, why are you doing this to me?' with the nickname that only Mrs. Darrick used for him. It only helped that her last words on her wrist were in similar fashion, 'Mols, I'm sorry.' Like imagine that, huh Prof? A nickname that only your partner used to you, giving indiciation to you early that they were your soulmate."
"What about you?" He asked quietly, pulling at his sleeves under the table during the tale.
"Huh?"
"I've noticed your wrists say two different things but I've never wanted to look deeply in case I looked strange." The Prof explained, "What do they say?"
"Two contradicting things." She said, rolling up her green sleeves, "Take a look." He looked to it, gently taking her wrists under the light of the table. The black words could have even be mistaken for a tattoo, had they were in any other location.
"That is quite contradicting. Your soulmate calls you both by your last name and by your first. They are two very contradicting sounds as well." The Prof said, using the pad of his index finger to brush across the words. "The one who calls you by your last name is more brash while the other is softer, even going as far as to call you their dear Lucy. Not to mention the leaving you thing."
"I suppose. I never thought of it that way." Lucy pursed her lips, looking at the Prof intently. He was thinking. More so than he really needed to. "Now it's only fair for you to show me yours, Prof." Lucy added, taking her wrists away from the table. He shook his head.
"Now that, my dear, remains a mystery."
The mystery didn't stay for long.
More months trailed. Forbodium came around. The Prof was exonerated and everything was fine, she learned to deal with his raging personalities, both Al and Fendi. Until it wasn't. The reconstruction machine chose to broke at the perfect time-when they were attempting to catch a much more dangerous killer that was still on the loose. One that did not fear brandishing a gun and shooting those in their way.
It turned on its head when they lead a police hunt for the man, who was named Benny Factore, who was quite literally the benefactor of every previous victim's organization-something that Lucy noticed fairly quickly for once, which lead to realizing intent very quickly. They followed in a car for the chase, which eventually stopped at London Bridge.
Lucy had been trained with a gun and knew how to use it well enough for field work. She didn't know if the Prof could-well, it was possible that Al did-but it was the least of her worries.
"Mr. Factor! There's no way out of this!" She called, holding out the pistol that the Commissioner recommended her to have, considering their change of scenery, "Put your hands up!" Officers surrounded him on both ends, all aiming a weapon towards him.
"Congratulations, Miss Baker! You've caught me. Does it feel good to finally catch the bad guy? Probably why you went into this field of work, I take it." Benny laughed, "Yeah, I killed those women. What about it? They didn't use my money in the right way. Of course, I had to rid of them. Find the absolute pure small organization that will. Surely, you must understand." He himself held his own pistol.
"There is such a thing as just pulling yourself out of the business." The Prof-Fendi-said, brandishing nothing in his hands save for his words. "Give up, Mr. Factor. You will be creating more problems than solutions if you continue this."
"Not when you love their bodies, Inspector Layton, not when you love their bodies. They'd easily force my hand with a little wiggle of their hips and a night in bed." His gun was purposefully aimed at Lucy. "I'm surprised he hasn't even bed you, Miss Baker. You've a body to rival them in some aspects."
"Shut it!" Al came forth, the color shifting in the daylight. His hands somehow came across a gun, "Before I make you."
"Au contraire, Inspector Layton, au contraire. I'm quite the sharpshooter. Had some practice afterall." In a split second, the world seemed to be able to change without warning. Benny fired a shot to her lower half. Two officers shot at him, accurately downing him in bullet holes. Lucy slipped down into the concrete with a thud.
"Lucy!" The Prof jumped across the car, coming to her aid. She could hear officers calling for an ambulance, but she knew it was highly unlikely that she was going to make the trip and the wait of London paramedics.
"Hi, Prof." She groaned slightly as he lifted her head on his lap.
"Lucy, don't move. Help is on the way." Fendi was taking control, making sure that the bleeding was being staunched by his lab coat. Lucy shook her head, scoffing.
"We probably shoulda let someone else handle the murder, ey, Prof? We aren't great for this stuff." She coughed, smiling despite the obvious pain she was going through. "Reconstruction is better."
"Lucy, shh..." Even as calmness was an attempt on Fendi's side, it didn't prevent Al from emerging from the depths in anger, the frustration in his facial features, something she rarely sawin him nowadays.
"Don't get upset. Things like this happen." She said, the sirens coming close. It was still possible for her to get help, she knew that. But she had to treat it like it was her last. His eyes only widened at her words. "I need to tell you something."
"Baker, I told that fool to tell you from the start!" Al was trembling of anger, rolling in waves. Lucy's eyes widened slightly, her hand grasping onto his sweater with her wrist up, the words that he just uttered clear as day. It wasn't possible.
"Why did you say that...?" He pushed his sweater sleeves off, revealing the words he had coveted for so long:
Why did you say that?
I'll never leave you, Prof.
Like her, two different phrases were etched into his creamy skin.
She racked her brain quickly, realizing why. Two different personalities. This whole soulmate business counted both Al and Fendi as two different entities. They were both her soulmate, combined to create a whole of a man. Because it didn't count them as one, there was no surprise that there was two phrases. Even for him, because she spoke to both of them separately, there were two for him as well.
The words tumbled out of her lips before she could help it, even after seeing it clear as day. "Prof, why didn't you tell me? We talked about this."
He didn't say anything. The paramedics took her out of his grasp and he sat inside the ambulance, forgoing the coat on the pavement and held her hand.
"I... I couldn't tell you. I'm sorry. I didn't want to face the truth of you leaving me one day." Fendi murmured, "Al told me so many times to just say it. I couldn't. I couldn't entertain the concept."
"But all the time we wasted to get to this point." Fendi's expression was unreadable.
"It doesn't matter. You're going to be better. This soulmate thing isn't real, you're going to survive no matter what I say or what you say or whatever damn nonsense! There's nothing that will prevent you from staying." The paramedics were looking between them now, knowing what denial that the Prof was going through. "You won't leave me, will you my dear Lucy?"
It was already sealed by those words alone. His own eyes widened when he asked the question with segue. He probably didn't even think of it. Her mouth spoke before her mind could stop her.
"I'll never leave you, Prof."
But with most things, it was already too late for her. Too late for what they could have been.
She was gone.