Spirits

Chapter Two

Due to the current situation in the Layton household, the first seconds after Professor Layton awoke were, to him, the best few moments of the day. This was because that as the Professor yawned and stretched, he did not think about the grief. In fact, it was almost as if the Professor had forgotten. It was almost as if Flora had never have gotten sick and never have died. Then, as the Professor would sit up and reach for his top hat, he'd glance around and feel the sombre silence that lay upon the house, and he would remember. The few moments would be over and it would be time to carry on with the rest of the day.

The Professor frowned, realising that he had fallen asleep on the sofa. He must have been more tired than he had realised. Sighing loudly, he got up from the sofa and made his way upstairs and dressed into fresher clothes. As he did so, he wondered how much longer this mourning would last. He felt as if he couldn't go on like this much longer. He could remember feeling the same way when Claire died; inconsolable.

After changing into some new clothes, the Professor made his way back downstairs to make a pot of tea. Like last night, as he made his way through to the kitchen, he spied the time on the grandfather clock in the living room. It was half past eight. It wasn't often that the Professor woke up that late. Luke, perhaps, but not himself. On the other hand, the Professor normally would set an alarm to wake him up for work, but an alarm was currently unnecessary as he was of course currently on compassionate leave for the death of his adopted daughter. Additionally, the Professor had gone to sleep much later than he normally would and he had fallen asleep on the living room sofa, indicating that he did indeed to catch up on some sleep.

As he sat back down in the same spot on the sofa where he'd woken up about fifteen minutes ago with a cup of tea, the Professor assumed that Luke was still in bed. After all, now that the kettle had finished whistling as it had boiled, the house was indeed silent. The Professor found the lack of noise rather saddening and so turned on the radio, which wasn't something he normally did. Mind you, the radio hadn't been bought until Flora had moved in. She enjoyed listening to music on the radio in the car, and so had purchased a radio and record player for the house. The only times the radio had ever been playing in the house was when Flora had turned it on.

Professor Layton had merely been trying to distract himself, but he soon realised his mistake. The radio had been tuned in to one of the three radio stations that Flora listened to. It was a network that played current pop tunes. It wasn't particularly the Professor's cup of tea anyway, and so he felt no guilt in turning the dial and tuning into The Classics Station.

He listened along as he sat back with his cup of the tea. The music made him feel rather nostalgic, but he would've been thinking of been thinking back of recent memories eitherway, as there was something that the Professor could not seem to get off his mind. Flora's last words.

'Kerning Drive. Luke's there.'

Layton thought past the painful memory of Flora's pale face breathing out those words. He knew that Flora had gone mad with delusions in her final weeks. She had become sick, had hallucinated, and it had lead to her believing Luke was in danger and that she could save him. She'd dreamt of Luke, clearly. From her words, the Professor assumed that she must have dreamt of Luke at a place named Kerning Drive, but funnily enough, the Professor did not know a place with such a name. He wondered if it was a street name in St Mystere. Yes, that seemed to be the most likely conclusion. It was a simple yet sad situation, and yet, the Professor could not get it off his mind.

He placed his empty cup of tea on the living room table and stood up, shaking his head. He had plenty of other things to think about. One, for example, was that perhaps it was about time to be waking Luke. It was approaching nine o'clock now, according to the Grandfather clock; Clark and Brenda would arrive soon. They'd stayed at a hotel for the past few nights, allowing the Professor and Luke to spend some time just together, in an attempt to try and help the grieving process. They had wondered if Luke and Hershel, the two who were closest to Flora, were alone together and were able to talk about their feelings (this wasn't just a service for Luke, but the Professor, too) without the worry of being overheard by others, would feel reassured and not alone. They did, however, continue to visit, as they were worried about their son and how he was coping with bereavement.

And so, Hershel went upstairs to Luke's room. It had always been Luke's room. Well, it had been since the he became his apprentice, that is. Once, it had been a spare room. A place for junk, old memories that the Professor preferred not think about, and the occasional artifact when his work and home office ran out of space. The Professor had not needed a spare room as he never had any visitors. Then, Luke became his apprentice and frequently stayed over. The junk room, then became Luke's room. Then, Luke left for France, and the room became a spare room. However, it never stopped being Luke's room.

The Professor glanced over at the door to Flora's room. He had yet to go through and clear the room of Flora's things. He was dreading doing so, hence why he hadn't yet completed the task. He wasn't ready. He'd promised himself he'd do it after the funeral. What excuse did he have now? He supposed he'd do it later. Those things worth keeping, he'd keep. Those things not worth keeping, he'd take to a charity shop. It was a simple enough task, but he was hesitant nevertheless.

He sighed and turned back to the door of Luke's room. He knocked.

No answer. Luke really was asleep.

He knocked again. Louder, this time.

Still no answer.

The Professor frowned and decided to open the door, just the tiniest bit, so as not to disturb Luke's privacy. Gently, he pushed down on the door handle and cracked open the door. He peeked through the two-inch gap made by the now ajar door and saw that Luke's bed was empty and unmade. He opened the door further, wondering if a bigger gap would reveal Luke on the other side of the room. But it didn't. The room was empty.

He must already be up and in the bathroom- no. The Professor had begun to turn back downstairs and in doing so, faced the bathroom door. Which was open. And empty. Luke was up and not in the bathroom. The Professor had spent all morning downstairs and Luke had definitely not been there. Besides, the downstairs floor was small and consisted of a bathroom by the doorway (which also had an open door, meaning that Luke couldn't be there either), a living room and a kitchen. Luke had been in neither. That meant that there was only one room left that Luke could be in: Flora's.

The Professor was reluctant to open the door to Flora's bedroom, but he did so. It would make sense for Luke to be there whilst grieving, he supposed. He was expecting to see Luke sitting on Flora's bed, or perhaps at her desk, deep in thought. Or perhaps, he'd even be asleep on Flora's bed, having gone in in the middle of the night, wanting to feel closer to Flora. But when the Professor opened the door, he did not see Luke. Only an empty room, which filled him with a deep sadness.

His eyes studied the seemingly lonely room. Flora's bed hadn't been made from where she last slept in it, just over a month ago. She'd been too sick to do so and the Professor was too busy worrying over her to do it for her. He stepped into the room and over to the window to open the curtain. He thought that perhaps it would help improve the lifeless atmosphere in the room.

After doing so, the Professor turned and stood with his hands against the window sill. It had always been a simple room, as despite her wealthy childhood, Flora had not at all been a materialistic person. White walls; linen sheets; a desk for school work; a small bookcase. Flora hadn't needed anything else. The Professor looked towards her desk, noting how tidy and organised it was in comparison to his in his office. Books were stacked and all folders were put back into their place against the wall. It made the white envelope sitting by itself, in the middle of the desk, rather obvious to spot.

Curiously, the Professor picked up the envelope and he was surprised to see that the addressee was himself.

Professor H. Layton

He was about to open the letter when there was a knock at the door. Brenda and Clark had arrived.

Putting the letter into his blazer pocket, the Professor made his way downstairs and opened the door.

"Morning, Hershel," Clark greeted as the Professor opened the door and gestured for the Triton's to enter.

"Morning, Clark. Brenda," The Professor replied and nodded at Brenda, greeting her also.

"Good morning. How's Luke?" Brenda replied. She was a Mother and Luke would always be her first priority.

"He's-" The Professor began, before he remembered that he had yet to see Luke that morning. He paused fo a second as he wondered what to say. He was rather guilt-ridden that he had forgotten about his search for his apprentice, even if it was brief and good reason for it. The Professor wasn't exactly sure where Luke was, however he was certain that Luke was not in the house. He must have gone for a walk... Oh. The Professor had just looked down as he quickly collected the information of Luke's whereabouts all together in his head and in doing so, had seen Luke's buckled, black shoes down by the front door.

"Hershel?" Clark frowned and said loudly to try and catch his friend's attention. The Professor had paused and was staring down at the floor, his expression slowly changing into one of confusion.

"Sorry," The Professor quickly apologised and looked back up at the couple. "I was just thinking that I hadn't seen Luke this morning and he's not upstairs. I thought that maybe he'd gone for a walk to clear his head, like he's done in the past. But... His shoes are here. He must be in the garden."

"Oh, I'll go and see him," Brenda offered immediately and then made her way towards the house's back door before either gentlemen could stop her.

"Mother's concern," Clark explained as Brenda hurried towards the garden. "She's worried about how he's coping with mourning. One minute she's worried she's giving him too much space and the next she insists that she's not giving him enough. This isn't a position we've been in before with Luke and-"

"It's all right, Clark," The Professor nodded. "It's perfectly understandable. Grief is never a good thing to go through for anyone. The first loss a person suffers, though, is not worse than the rest, but is a new and horrible experience."

The Professor could remember Randall. At least Luke did not feel that he was to blame for Flora's passing. Even so, the Professor could imagine that even without the guilt, his grief over Randall's passing would still have been unbearable and he would still have been inconsolable.

"Indeed," Clark nodded solemnly and placed his hands in his trouser pockets. "How are you coping with Flora's... Passing?"

In Layton's experience, no one could ever muster the word 'death'.

"I-" The Professor thought for a second before replying. "I'm taking each day as it comes."

"He's not there!" Brenda came bursting into the hallway back from the garden. She'd ran and had caught herself on the doorway to stop herself from running into the two men. She was out of breath. She was worried, concerned and scared. The Professor quickly picked up on that.

"What?" The Professor frowned. There was nowhere else he could be, if he was not upstairs or in the garden.

"I'll check upstairs again," Brenda said, before running up the stairs.

The Professor turned to Clark and wasn't sure if he imagined seeing his friend roll his eyes or not. The image reminded him of when Luke was born and how worried Brenda always was. She wouldn't even leave him alone when he was asleep, out of fear of him stopping breathing. Clark had found this to be mad and had complained about it to Hershel. At the time, it had made Hershel glad that Claire had no immediate plans of parenthood, but now, he was regretting never taking up the chance when he could have. Especially more so now that Flora, his final chance of a family, had slipped through his fingers.

Clark and the Professor could hear Brenda calling for Luke on the next floor. In a matter of seconds it seemed, Brenda was hurrying back down the stairs.

"He's not there either!" Brenda exclaimed in a panic. "I checked all the rooms. Yours, Luke's, Flora's and the bathroom. Where could he be?"

The Professor was speechless. He was thinking back to Flora's death. He was thinking back to what she said in the hospital. He was thinking about what he said when he turned down her idea about what was plaguing her. He was slowly putting the puzzle pieces together of a mystery that he had never expected to come across.


AN: And that was chapter two, which came after a very long wait which I apologise for massively! I went off to see my dad and his family for a couple of weeks and there was a leak so me and my brothers had to move into a hotel where we had to pay for internet, which we couldn't do. I couldn't write ready for an upload either as I find it super difficult to write when others are around. (I think I've mentioned that before).

I'm moving into my new apartment on Thursday and am hoping to update all my fics before then, however I'm making sure I get all my stuff ready and packed, which will take up a lot of time. Hopefully I'll be able to update more frequently over the course of the year this time round though!

By the way, thank you so much for the 8 reviews last chapter, guys! Made me very happy and some more reviews for this chapter would make me very happy indeed!

Nikki~