Here's a bundle of joy. IT'S A GIRL!
There's a bit of cursing in this one. Consider the circumstances, please. Don't go all "SO-AND-SO IS OOC" on me...
Anyway, happy reading.
Kelsey
CHAPTER 44: MAP TO FORGIVENESS
The Professor kept quiet as Laura walked around the dark passageway, stopping during occasional earthly rumbles. They were becoming more and more frequent, and even so, the young woman appeared aimless, and perhaps a bit unstable. She'd murmur things inaudible, then would curse under her breath.
"Screw it all, damn it all," she started again, scratching her head while kicking the wall lightly. "This is ludicrous…"
Risking another outburst, Professor Layton spoke up. "Aren't there any emergency exit routes?"
Laura looked up quickly at him, staring with wide eyes. "Emergency is an understatement." Then she began walking. Layton followed, albeit with a great amount of confusion.
"That doesn't answer my question!" he called from behind. Fumbling over his words, Layton angrily grabbed towards Laura's shoulder to spin her around but then…the hall became silent. A few lights flickered and turned on fully, bathing the gray passage in a yellow glow.
Laura looked around incredulously, a seedling of hope sprouting in her dark mind. "The sirens stopped. The generators are back on. So basically, Edward restarted everything, but now we're trapped down here."
"Isn't there another elevator?"
She turned to face him. "Yes, but we're just going to continue to play tug of war with the power once he sees us coming up again. He's got surveillance, he's got the program in his claws…he'll know. That's why he stopped the power when we were in the lift, I'm sure of it. To keep us caged down here. Now he's just completing the drill's path."
They approached two large steel doors that met in the middle like a zipper. The frame around it was marked in yellow-black alternating diagonals.
"This is the only way that connects to the drill chamber, the very bottom of where we can safely trek. You know, where I showed you and the kids not that long ago. Seems like yesterday," Laura whispered wistfully, recalling the memory. She punched a code on the keypad next to the door and smiled faintly when the doors opened. "Hooray."
The room inside was dim. It looked as if the top portion of the cavern had been formed due to a giant taking an ice cream scoop to the cement. Enormous black spidery cracks sprawled across the ceiling. Several pieces the size of boulders had already fallen to the ground, laying in heaps of powdered rubble
"The pressure already started making this place crumble," Professor Layton noted, holding his hat while looking upward. "We'd better hurry doing whatever it is we're doing…"
"We're going to have to—"
Suddenly they were thrown down as a jolt shook the entire floor. Laura felt her legs buckle as she continued trying to get back to her feet. The Professor wasn't faring any better.
"I hate this!" the girl screamed above the rumbling.
"Something's talking!" Layton bellowed right next to her. Sure enough, a computerized woman issued a warning, her digital voice blaring throughout the chamber, but it was too loud and jumbled to make out.
"Pressure threshold exceeded—make way to—attention all personnel, please—way to exit route—"
The Professor gave up trying to move, instead remaining magnetized to the cement floor. "Where's the exit?!"
More pieces of the ceiling began falling around them. It was by some strange miracle the two weren't pulverized, but one came too close for comfort as Laura tried army-crawling towards the door.
"We need to get out of here…"
The rumbling subsided slowly, the ground becoming stable with only minor vibrations. The girl seized the opportunity and bolted to a wide-mouthed door on the other side of the space. She mooshed the buttons of the keypad.
"Oh God, oh God," she whined. "It's not… Why isn't it working?!"
"Laura, calm down, let's get through the chamber like you originally intended—"
"I didn't intend anything! This isn't supposed to be happening, we'll just be smashed—"
"What's the code?!" he growled, shaking her to attention. She gave it to him and he continuously tried smashing the buttons, hoping and praying he'd nail it. It still wouldn't respond, no matter how many times he tried. "Everything seems to be shutting down!"
Laura raced to an electric box a few feet away, wrenching the door open and revealing a panel and mess of wires.
'This stupid thing,' Laura fumed as she tried rearranging the cables. 'It's shutting down all right! The bloody computer wants us out, but the door is jammed! Of all times…Everything's falling apart!'
"Go find a crowbar or something!" she shouted. "We need to pry the door open!" With a deafening crtch! a large portion of the ceiling split and released a plume of dust, raining down like powdery snow.
"I can't leave you alone with the ceiling like this! What if it—"
"I can manage myself, now stop being sappy and find a bar!"
Continuing to shove numbers into the keypad, the Professor didn't budge. "It's not sappy, it's called being loyal!"
"What would you know about loyalty?!" she screamed through the din. "You righteous little prat, swearing yourself to me, then taking off without so much as an apology! That's loyalty? You've got some nerve! Fine, stand there being stupid!"
Fueled by rage (something he had been doing for the entire day), he ran and found a bent piece of a beam that had fallen. It was sharp, but was all he could quickly locate.
"I've got this! Help me open the door!" he demanded, pulling her over.
"I'm doing this… I'm almost—"
More cement peppered the cavern. "Laura, listen to me, if you don't do as I say, we're both dead!"
"Go to hell!"
An echoing blast came from above, but nothing more fell. The room was finally quiet. Layton looked up carefully, waiting for some part to collapse in surprise. When nothing happened, he gave a sigh of relief.
"Laura."
He grabbed her hand and pulled her close, wrapping as much of his arms around her as he could. She stared into his shoulder, stunned.
"What are you doing?! This place is going to cave in any moment, and you're—"
"Before I come close to losing you again… Laura, I've…never been as scared in my entire life as I was a few minutes ago. If I hadn't intervened, that gun…that bullet, you'd be—wait, what are you doing?"
The girl tore from his grip and ran back to the security box, tearing open more of the half-destroyed paneling. "I don't want to hear your stupid lies. I'm done with you now. You helped me, I'm eternally grateful, and I'll see to it you are suitably recompensed for your efforts. You know me, I will make sure it happens. I don't lie. We'll be out of here soon."
The Professor clenched his fists, grinding his teeth. "Laurie, please…we really need to work together here—"
"Oh? You didn't think so all those years ago!" she laughed, twisting the colorful cords together. "You didn't even think so just mere moments ago! Looking for some stupid artifact, please! There's more important things going on here, things bigger than both you and I! Don't start thinking about working together now. You're ten years too late," she snapped, her hands hurriedly running over the mini streams of green, blue, and red wiring. Her eyes blinked rapidly, trying to bat away a deluge of tears. "Almost there…"
"Can you please look past your anger a moment?! I need to tell you something, just listen."
"Not interested. I don't care to listen to you now."
"No, you need to listen!" he wailed, beginning to sob. "Laura, it's absolutely imperative that you listen to me! Before anything else happens." He stood steadfastly in front of the electronics panel, shifting his body left and right as Laura tried going around him to reach the wire sets.
"I don't care! I don't want to die, so let me do this! Just because the noise stopped doesn't mean—" Catching her off guard, the Professor grabbed one of her wrists, holding her still for a moment. The girl attempted to fight it off, but found it futile. "Good Lord, can you please be quick about it?!"
Layton made sure he had her gaze and attention. "I'm sorry! You don't think I'm sorry? I know what I did to you so many years ago was wrong! It was all wrong! The duration of time between then and now: it doesn't make what I did any less disgusting, any less wicked. I was scared, Laurie, scared. It doesn't justify it, but I woke up the morning after we slept together, and I couldn't believe what I'd done. I didn't want you hurt! I'd already gone too far. I didn't want anyone to find out, and…ruin your reputation. There was so much at stake!"
She snorted. "Ruin my reputation? You saved your career. You don't need to dress it up anymore than you already have, making yourself look like the hero, putting me out of harm's way."
"I don't care what it looks like, that's what I actually did! Laura, don't you get it? I loved you. I was thoroughly, completely, one-hundred percent in love with you. I didn't want what we did to last only a night. I wanted to spend every waking moment with you!" His face was miserable, his cheeks and forehead red from contorting his face, trying not to cry. "I was impulsive! I made love to you, and got frightened. But that doesn't imply that it didn't mean anything! As soon as you told me about those girls talking, spreading the news that they saw you go home late from my house, I had the last bit of confirmation I needed. I couldn't keep it going like that! I couldn't be selfish like that."
"'Selfish' is leaving me in the way you did: I don't care what you say. Shut up and let me work before we get killed."
"Laura, I did it because I loved you! I still love you! Nobody, no one can replace you! I'm sorry, you're right, I admit it! If you want, I'll admit it! I fell in love with Claire because I missed you. I couldn't bear to be alone anymore, she filled the void. You called it 'rebound'? It's…disgusting to think about, now that she's gone…I can't apologize…" He covered his mouth and cried harder, unsure where his emotional wounds stung the worst. They all bled the same. "Oh God, Laura, please…please believe me…please forgive me! If this is the end, you have to know. I've…I've done the exact opposite of everything I've stood for… I abandoned you, I used another, I've lived a lie, hiding behind a façade, all this time. The truth…I thought I could outrun, outlive it. But…then you come back into my life. It's not by chance… I should have said all of this years ago, but I didn't know how. I don't think I could have…I didn't want to let you go. I couldn't have you, so I buried you. I pretended you were never there…"
Wires back in hand, Laura paused, turning to face him slowly. "So you cut me out, as if I never existed?" In milliseconds she thought of her parents and Liam, never mentioning him ever again, putting all pictures of the boy away, boxing up his things and donating them. All memories, all abandoned, all forgotten. She shuddered, a slight understanding of the Professor's emotional plight making her hate herself for accusing him.
'I suppose…it is the easier route, trying to forget… It's painful on the other person's end, on my end, and if Liam could know any better, I'm sure he'd be hurt, after what my parents have done to seal away the pain, along with him. But….for the sufferer, it might be the only option to move on…'
Layton wiped his eyes with his sleeve, his injured arm remaining limp. "Yes. I'm sorry. I'm dreadfully sorry. It's unforgivable, I know, but I didn't know what else to do. A part of me didn't want you to forget me, but…I reasoned that if I was doing it to you, it's perfectly plausible you'd do the same of me."
"Yes…I…" More dust and debris fell from the shattered ceiling as the frame threatened to collapse at any moment. It was patchy and dangerously dilapidated, full of jagged holes where plaster and concrete had already fallen. They were contained in a poorly constructed globe, looking up from the center of the earth at the creaking beams that were inaccurate latitudes and meridians. "Chat will have to come later. As for now…" She fumbled with a few more wires and jumped back when blue stars of electricity sparked out at her. With a half-hearted whoop, Laura punched the air. "Got it. Gate's open, let's go." She grabbed Layton's good arm. "I said let's go!"
Not daring to look back, they ran out of the whining gate, the metal door grinding against the dented and damaged track like a giant, robotic jaw, albeit a rusty one. No sooner had they run through and made it to the hallway that the heavy door slammed, shut for good. A large chunk of ceiling must have finally given way on the other side, as echoes and blasts of dust pushed through small vents in the walls, the floor creaking and vibrating with seismic force.
Finally, after holding their breath, waiting for the crashing to stop, the two sighed, relieved.
"Well, that was some stuff worthy of an action film," Laura mumbled, brushing herself off. She'd managed to become a dust magnet, and turned to the Professor, noting the same of him. His coat looked like it was covered in snow, while her lab coat was no longer pristine and bleached. It now resembled the color of rotting teeth.
"I never wanted to be an actor, and most certainly not one of the action genre," Layton said dryly, licking his lips. He could taste salt, the sweat from the entire affair collecting on his face. Dirt and sand must have been mixed in, as he could feel the crunch of granules between his teeth. It sent shivers up and down his spine. They accepted their ruined state, abandoning the cleaning of their clothes and their general discomfort and turning instead to their surroundings.
They were now in a completely different hallway circuit, a system of paths that led to the drill chamber. It connected to a series of elevators, mostly now defunct, and empty shafts originally used to house scaffolding. These shafts surrounded drill, as they were necessary in the elementary stages of the construction of the subterranean headquarters. This occurred over several years, in monthly stages. What was once a center of mechanical prowess, bustling and sparking with energy, engineering ingenuity hitting and surpassing peaks and pinnacles, was now eerily quiet. Unused and unwanted.
It was dark down both ways of the channel; the only light flowed along a low-wattage strip halfway up the domed walls, and even that was flickering, on its last breath. The hall was shaped like a large pipe, cut in half and looming above them as a convex, rounded ceiling. To the right was pure black, but to the left at the far end of the hallway was a low glow of light. Laura knew there was an old service elevator at the end of the path.
"I don't know if this thing is even in decent working order," Laura said with irritation. Her legs had pins and pegs stabbing through the nerves, barely allowing her knees to bend, and she winced with every step. Running from the destroyed chamber was the icing on the cake, as her limbs had passed their limit hours ago. "But then again, if we don't try, I don't see us getting out of here… It's not like there's a staircase to take in case of emergencies," she said with a laugh. "And even if there was, you'd be walking for over half a day to get to the surface. This is our last hope."
"Okay," he said softly. He still couldn't shake the feeling of loss that was taking over his mind. No one had died yet, but a foreboding fog started to cloud his thinking. He was starting to understand why Laura was starting to lose her focus.
Beginning to walk down the dimly lit hallway, Laura ushered him to follow. "Come this way, I think I remember an emergency worker's lift down near the control room. Perhaps that's still working. After all, it's for emergencies, and this is one. It runs off the power grid, in case that fails. So Edward can't do anything about it!"
Navigating the halls was like navigating a sewer, minus the smells and the streams (and perhaps rats; Laura had never seen a rat down this far into the planet, but she thought she'd heard scurries and scraping of little claws on occasion). The sealed walls glistened from the mellow light as it followed them as they walked, the little glowing line never shining further than they walked.
Their movement triggered the pulsating string. The sensor-lighting was implemented to save energy, as the tubular walking circuit was extensive, equating with expensive. It was practical, as the drill needed all the energy that they could spare. And, a certain obsessive-compulsive engineer was bothered by the electric bill.
They ambled slowly in awkward silence, footfalls echoing like sighing ghosts for some time before Professor Layton hissed, sucking in air thickly as he grasped his right bicep.
"Thing's killing me. That bullet really left quite a…well, a path." He clutched at his torn sleeve where dried blood had glued pieces together.
"Oh yes, about that. If you'll let me, I'll clean it up for you. You're just lucky it didn't get lodged in there."
Shaking his head furiously, almost losing his hat, Layton stepped back. "I think I can just endure, it seems to have somehow…cauterized itself, I—"
"Are you seriously not going to trust me?" She looked at him plainly, as if bored. Always bored. She hardly ever looked angry with people; she merely looked tired of them. "When have I steered you wrong? When have I been misleading? I got us this far, didn't I?"
Looking from his arm to the girl, glaring behind listless eyes, he sighed. "Alright. But…what do you plan on doing?"
They found a stack of empty crates and overturned one, a makeshift chair. Laura sat the Professor down, forcing him to remove his coat and shirt, even after several objections.
"If I have things in the way, it's not going to work," she tried to reason with him. "If you go to get surgery, do you go in suited up like you're going to a dinner party?! No, you get a gown."
"But I…"
Laura rolled her eyes and pulled a small tote from her lab coat pocket. "I thought men weren't supposed to care about baring their chests. Anyway, I found a bunch of fun things back in Edward's office. A sewing kit, a lighter, a set of keys… The kit's most likely to sew on bratty buttons when they fall off before a meeting or something. The rest of the stuff, who knows. I just wanted it."
"You are…something else…" Layton scoffed, giving her a queer glance.
She removed a needle and carefully prepped it with the lighter. Holding the point in the flame, Layton eyed her warily.
"And it's not that I care about 'baring my chest'… It's just…well…I've gained a little weight since 10 years ago. It's not very flattering, but I suppose I have no one to blame other than myself. I really should be—" He yelled out as she jabbed the needle into his arm, near the bullet's entry. The noise boomed around the walls, the Professor's voice trailing down the hall for several seconds before rebounding back again as a dying echo. "A warning would be nice! I really hope being a doctor is not in your future!"
"Just shut your annoying mouth and let me be for a moment! Hold on, let me grab something…"
Luckily, first-aid boxes were required at intervals throughout the entire underground, complete with many tools and supplies in case of emergency. An accident this far beneath the earth would almost always prove to be fatal, considering there was no paramedic help that could arrive quickly enough. Now, Laura was thankful for the kits and medical paraphernalia she had at her disposal.
She gave the Professor a piercing look, in case he was trying to shy away from her improvised surgeon center, but he wasn't even paying any attention to what she was doing anymore. He was muttering something about the direction they were going instead.
"If we entered through the northern entrance, and descended straight down into the main chamber, then we should be just about at the—BLOODY HELL!"
Laura hid a grimace as the needle punctured and reemerged through his skin, quickly zigzagging through muscle and raw skin as the girl found it appropriate. She pulled the moist thread taut, pulling the separated flaps together. Her fingers were slippery from the blood, the needle coated in a shiny red. She tried not to slip; it was dangerously wet, and one wrong move could mean her finger sewn into the sinew.
After applying a final antibacterial salve, she wrapped the wound with an old, thick bandage, praying it wasn't going to infect the area anymore than she already had with her crude means of doctor-play."That'll do for now. I'm sure the doctors will scoff, but it's better than your circulatory system dancing all over the place. Cauterized, yeah, that was what happened." She rolled her eyes. "I'm surprised you didn't pass out! There's blood all over your arm!"
"Charming," he muttered, flexing his arm and wincing. "Well, I still must say, I'm impressed. I don't think I could have done that to anybody."
"If I have to do something, I'll do it. I won't back out." She tossed her materials back into her pocket, feeling eyes on her back. She turned around. "What?"
"Oh, it's just…well, it's admittedly not the best moment, but…even down here, in the midst of chaos and darkness, you shine. It's a very attractive energy you give off."
Laura started off down the tunnel, trying to hide her red face in the shadow. "I…don't know what you mean."
"You keep a level head, you know when you're right. That's admirable. And, well, I can't say that I don't find it very enjoyable to be around." He smiled, rubbing his arm subconsciously.
"Uh huh. If that's what you say…"
It felt like hours, but was only ten strained minutes. Laura started grumbling to herself; the echoes and the occasional tinkling of pipes was starting to make her go mad.
"You know, we probably won't be making it out of here, and yet, you still haven't really cleared yourself." She looked over at his somewhat startled expression. It was a bad habit, making people squirm. "What, you didn't realize our oxygen levels down here are already dangerously low as is? Not to mention, this place is going to blow at any second. The gas build up? We smelled smoke and sulfur back up top, and with Edward pushing the drill more. It's either suffocate, get blown up, or squashed. Or maybe all three, if we're super lucky."
"What do you mean by 'cleared yourself'?"
"I meant what I meant. Never mind. The time?"
Layton checked his pocket watch, favoring his arm, still puzzling over her cryptic lingo. "It's been…fifteen minutes since we left that chamber, with the broken gate. I suppose we are on borrowed time."
"Well, it'll be time that we won't be returning, borrowed or not." She grinned, mostly to herself, but she allowed Layton a glance. "Well?"
"Well, what?"
"You're just going to clam up in your last moments?"
The Professor thought briefly, then sighed in anguish. "I was so worried about us, I had forgotten about the children until just now."
So had Laura. Luke and Flora. Where were they now…? She'd been forced to construct a delicate plan of action within minutes, chased and almost murdered, saved in the nick of time, and led through a compulsory review of ten years' emotional build-up. The boy and girl were furthest from her mind, yet now were all she hoped for. Seeing them again would mean being on the surface, safer than in the confines of the disrupted earth.
"I did too. I suppose when you're fighting for your life, everything else fades away. Makes you feel small, doesn't it? And not in a humble way. Just…gutless, pathetic." Her eyes pooled with tears. "I don't…suppose there's anything they could do now, at this point. I'm sure Edward's already up on top, prancing about, enjoying his fresh air. Stupid, rich prat. I should have known. I really should have."
"You did. That's why we're here." He smiled over at her, affection welling up inside him, despite the circumstances. "Because of you, the world isn't swimming under kilometers of ocean at the moment. It could have been worse. A lot worse."
"It's not completely over," she reminded him, laughing bitterly. "Edward still holds the keys. That drill is still running. Let's hope the Queen can swim."
"But you had the sense to disable the other drills," he added, still attempting to compliment her; it was all he could do to manage some positivity. "That move kept the earth safe, at large."
She wouldn't have it. The nagging truth still ate at her. Now, in the silence, louder than ever: she'd built a death machine. She created an apocalypse, single-handedly. With her own talents, the agency of suffering. Her life was epitomized in one small fact, that she allowed people to die, and now she would too.
"You don't understand, Hershel," she whimpered, unable to restrain her tears. Her body began to shake as they walked. "Any way you look at it. It is what it is. I should have wondered, questioned. He never had an outlined plan, Leopold, I mean, Edward. There was never a direct purpose. It was suspicious from the beginning but the only words I heard… 'Hurting your reputation.' I was completely blinded. All I wanted to do…"
In a quick spin and a whoosh, Layton stopped her in her tracks, putting both hands on her shoulders, disregarding the pain in his limb. "Laura, you've said enough. I know you would never have intended—"
"I wanted you ruined!" she wailed. The hallway echoed her cries, the wretched howls mimicking a haunting; weeping souls lost in the void. "I..I didn't want you reveling in any glory, any accomplishments! I wanted you shamed. I didn't care if my name was known, fame never mattered, but as long as someone usurped you, like Leopold, Edward…even Edward, I wanted you moved down a peg." She covered her face, her fingers stabbing into her eyes, trying to damper the flow of tears. "I didn't care how, I just wanted it. I wanted you to feel even a fraction of my hurt, it was killing me... If I couldn't have you, I didn't want anyone to. That included sharing in your archaeological discoveries… Oh Hershel, I'm awful, I should have just died in that room back there, crushed by the stupid, stupid ceiling!"
Layton waited. She cried pitifully, small dejected moans wracking her frame. Her face stayed covered the entire time. But he waited. After a minute, she wiped her eyes and stopped, as much as she could; she still sniffed audibly to keep the snot inside her nostrils. Her eyes met his, and she felt calmer somehow. There was no anger. Through the dried tears, she saw forgiveness. In the web of the circuit, the dank tunnels that led to nothing, their map to nowhere. There it was. Mercy. Amnesty. Absolution.
"Do you really think I'd be mad with you?" he asked softly, running fingers through her matted hair. His eyes were lazy, lids like half moons, but he stared straight through her. Normally, she'd have looked away, but it might have been the last time she could get lost in them, such was the thought of her subconscious. She even enjoyed—for once, completely—his trademark smile. "Surprised, perhaps, yes, I'm still surprised; it's not really your character. But angry? Good Heavens, no. It's not an excuse, by any means, but I'd say, after what I did to you… Even then, we're still not quite even."
"What…what do you mean? I tried hurting you. Purposefully."
"I mean that I should be the one apologizing to you. But even that…" He growled deeply, a guttural sort of angry noise. Then he laughed, the happiest sound to dance in the halls. "Why does 'sorry' seem to be the hardest word?"
"I know harder ones." With a flash of a grin, she started walking again, breaking from his grip. She didn't want him to embrace her; she sensed it, and knew it would trigger more sobs. "Come on, we're almost to the end."
The silence. Again, it was almost complete, if it weren't for the footsteps bouncing about the hall. It was these that reminded the two that they weren't deaf. Laura cleared her throat.
"Can I tell you something?" She waited for the Professor to turn his head towards her, giving her the signal that she had his attention. "I normally wouldn't admit this to anyone, anyone, not even you. But given the circumstances, it won't really matter if anyone knows. It dies here. Literally."
"How do you know we're dying?"
"I just…" She paused.
"What is it, Laurie?"
As if preparing to give a speech, the girl inhaled deeply, shuddering as she released. Her words were warbled, full of pain, but candid all the same. "I never really felt complete, when growing up, especially after Liam died. No one cared about what I really enjoyed, I just…stuck to my hobbies, alone. All I had to do was excel in school, and everyone would leave me alone. But that started changing in college, as I didn't care if I failed, as…you saw in your class." Layton chuckled, to Laura's relief. She needed the levity. Her heart was already brittle. "But…when I met you, there was some sort of…well, when we became friends, I found myself wanting to…" A slow laugh escaped her lips, and she shook her head. "This is so stupid, I'm sorry."
"No, no. Continue. I want to hear this." He looked at her intently from the side, hanging on her every word. "I'm interested in this side of you. Go on."
It was too buttery, too rich. Her gut wrenched, the sure response to all of his soft words. His style of speaking was almost an accent all its own, foreign, even though she'd lived in London all her life. No one spoke so smooth. But that was a confession she'd take to the grave.
'You and your stupid voice and your stupid smile, oh I wish we'd die already…'
With a grumpy snarl, she ended with a short giggle. "Okay, I admit it. I wanted to impress you. I was…quite enamored with you. Ever since you gave me attention, and you actually talked to me kindly, and gave a damn about…well, about me. I never had…a friend…oh, it was a match made in hell, see where it got us?!"
The hall changed. They entered a section of the tunnel that had more punctuated lighting, single bulbs hanging from short chains at intervals. The intermittent light left hourglass-shaped patches of shadow between each splash of illumination, and they passed through these while blinking, their eyes adjusting slowly. Suddenly, Laura shivered, rivulets of tears cutting streams down her face. The trails shone in the lantern's bright light. Layton looked over, startled at the abrupt change.
"I don't know why it's coming out this way, but I'm grateful," she whimpered, her voice catching between fleeting shots of laughter. "For everything. I might as well tell you now. Thank you for everything, Professor… Hershel. I wish it could have worked out differently. After we, well, after that night, I couldn't stop thinking about you. Ever. Nothing made it better. Even trying to hate you. That anger, that emptiness, do you even know…"
The Professor felt his mind freeze, her emotions were so frightening. She never addressed him with such passion. It was almost eerie. The tears broke in his own eyes. Of course he knew that emptiness. The hollow feeling in his gut, tearing through viscera, eating his sanity, was always present, waiting to haunt. He'd tried to kill it, bury it, cover it up. But it was not a fantasy: it wasn't so easy to forget. The images, the feelings, the smells and the tastes of everything they'd ever done, shared, experienced. It all reappeared in dreams, it floated into his thoughts when alone in his study. Silence was his enemy. All of it was as close as boredom was, so he worked all the more, all the harder to keep it at bay. But the time before sleep is rest, and during rest…
For ten long years. Even then, you never forget, he knew.
"Laura, what are you—"
"Hershel, tell me…" Her voice was broken, the saddest, most miserable thing he'd ever heard. Was she pleading, begging? It was too pitiful to listen to, but he was forced by her pathetic gaze to heed her words. "Tell me…is it murderer or martyr, to kill a part of yourself, to let another part live?"
He looked at her in confusion. Puzzles, now? Really? "What…what do you mean?"
She smiled. Amidst that agony, she grinned.
"You know I hate this stuff. But a part of me wants to give in to it. Either way I give in to, I lose."
"So you have to 'murder' the unemotional part of yourself, to let the more expressive part out…so essentially, you're a martyr… Am I getting your meaning?"
"Oh good Lord, this is cliché, and you're making it so much worse, Hershel."
"Well, I—I didn't say it! You did!"
"It's your fault, really! I hate myself." She grabbed him by his grubby shirt collar and pulled him down to her level, placing her lips against his firmly. She didn't notice the salt and the sweat. Her mind was fighting itself, and she was thankful his eyes were closed. Otherwise, she'd abandon her confession, too self-conscious. "Mostly, I just hate you. I'm so stupid, I'll never speak to you again!"
Layton's eyes opened slowly, his lips slightly parted. Secretly, he cursed the short connection time. "That little antic of yours just might say otherwise. That might have been the most…stirring expression of self that you've ever shown me, honestly…"
"Well…I—you're just a pushover, aren't you! Men really are all silly creatures! All mesmerized and bowled over with a stupid kiss! Honestly!"
"Well, I…can't quite help it…I just…"
"Let's just keep going, now I'm all embarrassed and I—"
Something exploded, the ear-splitting vibrations rushing along the hallway from behind, like a lion bellowing before the chase. The structure rang and rattled as a gust of air forced itself down the channel right at them, a breath of foreshadowing: the place was imploding in on itself.
Laura's lab coat whipped about her, and Layton had to hold down his hat as dust and air hurried past them like a storm on the rise.
"Hurry," Laura hissed through barred teeth.
"Aren't we going to stop the drill? What's the plan?"
"I'll explain when we get there."
They continued to the end of the hall, where the only working elevator was located. An emergency chute, it was always in guaranteed working order. The only exception might be the circumstantial fact that the place was self-destructing. A single light bulb hung from the lift's ceiling, swaying helplessly, and the shadows danced around the elevator with every pendulum swing. There was no solid door, only a metal accordion, a chain link lattice that locked when shut, much like elevators of old. The thin door would shut, prompting the lift to go in the only direction that it had: up.
And Layton meant to turn around, meant to extend his hand out, meant to grab Laura's. He had every intention of doing so. But he was met with the wind being knocked from his lungs, and he felt the stitching in his shoulder burst as he collided with the back wall of the rickety winch. The lift shook from the force as he fell to the floor, the plated metal cold against his sweaty hands. He might have felt the pain peeling through his arm if it wasn't for the shock of seeing the door cut between him and Laura. It slammed shut with a deafening, metallic, slicing sound as the lock pin slid into place. It was almost comical, the absurdity of staring through the steel lattice, the girl and long hallway beyond cut into little diamonds.
The lift shook, pulleys readying for the ascent. And the force of realization was almost a precursor to heart failure, it took hold of him so strongly. She had slammed herself into him on purpose, sending him full-force into the contraption without her. And with one fell swoop, silenced the matter with a throw of the door.
"L-LAURA! WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?" He grabbed the metal accordion, shaking the gridded door with every fiber of his being. It thrashed and clanged. He was like a caged bird, dying for freedom, but there was none to be had. "Open the door! FIND A WAY TO OPEN THE DOOR!"
Laura stood smiling, her eyes calm but sad, already missing everything. She was already gone. She looked at him blankly, through all those empty holes in the door.
"I think it's 'murderer'."
"Wha…WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT? Stop this insanity and open this God-damned door!" He continued by pounding on it, slamming himself into it. It bulged at the threads, but the woven metal held where the pins were wrought. His eyes shone like a wild animal, cornered and caught. "Why would you close it?! Why the bloody fuck would you close it?!"
And she laughed.
"The side of you I've never seen. Fear. I'm interested."
"This isn't funny, it's—" The elevator lurched, the pulleys spinning and whirring excitedly. The thing rose. Slowly, but it rose. "LAURA! It's suicide! This wasn't the plan!"
Her face was blank, but underneath, determination burned. The Professor would have found it attractive, that poise, that stubbornness…but given the circumstances...
"It was my plan the entire time. I have to stop it, Hershel. I'm the only person who knows how. But it only takes one person. The mainframe… I can shut it all down permanently. No more games. Edward loses."
"You could have let me go with you!" he shouted, rage seething from every pore. Sweat lined his brow, seeping into his hair. "Are you stupid?! You stupid girl! You stupid, stupid, idiot girl, you can barely walk, now open the damned door!"
"I didn't want you following me to the grave. You have too much to do. You need to be there for Luke and Flora. And I'm…well, I'm paying my debts."
Another blast rocked the foundations, and another gust of air shot through the tunnel, this time, colder. Laura felt her skin prickle, bumps raising along her arms and legs. The end. It was on her.
And it scared her. She knew what she had to do, but running to the void, to one's death? It was easier said than done. But if anyone had the audacity to stare death in the face and appear disinterested, it was her. If she wasn't crushed to death, the boredom of the whole thing would probably silence her permanently anyway.
Her mind was sound for the time being, and she had to take advantage of that.
Panicking, the Professor had lost all sanity. The door wouldn't budge. The lift was rising. His head was almost out of view, the elevator passing the ceiling of the tunnel. His face was contorted in fury and despair and his eyes were manic, a deer in the headlights. Turning to the side, angry fists slammed into the button panel, trying to find some secret combination to halt the thing. It only bruised his knuckles.
'Why's there a panel in here anyway?! It has no purpose!'
He bawled, and it almost made Laura regretful, guilt taunting her conscience. It was a strange sight, the proud yet modest Professor Hershel Layton, brought to his knees, riddled with grief, clawing at the shaky door with desperation without promise of fruition. The ultimate puzzle, and he couldn't solve it. It was probably the last she'd see of him, and it was killing her, knowing that. Maybe he could study her bones later, after the rubble was cleared up, she thought.
'I think I'm going mad…' she mused. 'I need to get going…'
"Laurie, why are you doing this?!" he screamed, his voice dying in the din of the lift and the explosions. It didn't matter, he was going hoarse anyway. His throat was dry, tongue cleaving to the roof of his mouth. "You c-c-an't go! I…won't…let…you!" His fingers wrapped around the lattice again, the thin metal cutting beneath his knuckles. Red liquid trickled into the door joints, smearing the silver surface. "Not a second time! Laurie, I love you, this can't happen! Not again!"
"Yes, a second time, again. But, this time, it's my doing."
"No, no, no, no, no." He shook his head violently, trying everything in his power to stop the lift. "No, no, NO." He pushed himself into the wall, hoping to warp the lift's shape, grind it against the shaft. It was his last attempt at a break. "Laurie, reprogram it! Do something! There's got to be another way!"
"Hershel, you are my best friend, and I'm truly sorry." She took a step back, a wavering smile plastered across quivering lips. She wiped her eyes, and cleared her throat. "You were my dream, one I didn't realize I had until it was too late. I'd awoken, and it was just too late. I suppose now is a better time than any. I never really told you, and it doesn't really matter, but…
"I love you!"
The elevator screeched upward, Layton pressed to the floor of the thing, trying to shout sense in the last window of sight before pulling out of view. As soon as it cleared the ceiling, Laura turned on her heels and darted backward into the darkness, the Professor belting out one last blood-curdling scream, hope gone, his mind blank, and the permanence of his loss engraving itself indelibly into his memory.
Oops. Review please.