Paradox Lost: Part 23
After much struggling and wanting to murder the gang, it's finally done! Here goes the chapter that will lead us to the Fourth Hour!
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Paradox Lost
~*~*~*~*~*~*
Picking up the picnic basket was almost a herculean effort in itself. Penford stood as far from Layton as possible, his thumb rubbing over his pocket-watch in agitation while the Professor paid for the reserved lunch. The older man sighed as he opened his wallet to gather the amount of money, pausing in confusion at the rumpled scrap of newspaper that was stuck inside. He didn't recall saving a newspaper clipping. Pulling it free, he slipped it into the pocket of his cloak for later examination.
"Could I have some cake too?" Hershel asked of his mentor, tugging eagerly on his hand with bright eyes. Penford blinked in surprise, then smirked at his young apprentice.
"Manners, Hershel." he reminded and the boy laughed sheepishly.
"I mean, may I please have some cake as well?" he amended and the young man seemed to consider it before finally pulling himself together and looking over at the eldest in the group.
"Professor, did you have any plans to include dessert with the lunch?" Penford asked and Layton looked momentarily surprised at the fact that his future apprentice spoke civilly to him since leaving the attorney's office, then smiled a bit more warmly.
"Why, the thought hadn't occurred to me, my boy." he replied and looked to his own charges, "Would you care for dessert as well, Luke? Flora?" Young Luke looked excited, throwing his arms up in the air as Flora lifted a finger to her lip in thought.
"Chocolate cake!" the boy exclaimed and Hershel scowled at him.
"I want strawberry shortcake!" he argued.
"They're rather decadent for a simple picnic." Flora commented slowly, a bit uncertain, "The sweetness might be a bit too much for the children."
"Why don't we settle for a few simple tarts? They work well for any situation." Penford commented casually, managing a thin smile at the Professor thanking him for the suggestion.
"We'll take a dozen fruit tarts as well, thank you." Layton told the woman at the counter as she set the basket up for him to take, "Luke, a little assistance with the lunch will be appreciated." The young apprentice trotted up to help carry the picnic basket, paused as he took it into his hands, then gave a happy yelp that caused the Professor to look down at him and the basket. The bakery had taken precaution to remind the staff who reserved the basket lunch, going so far as to burn a replica of the Layton Family Insignia into the lids. Layton blinked at it, then chuckled sheepishly.
"We'll be returning this once our picnic ends, if you don't mind. But I thank you for your consideration in marking the basket for everyone's peace of mind in regards to my reservation." he told the saleswoman, paying for the lunch and a bag of tarts. She simply smiled and chuckled behind her hand, waving her goodbyes as the group headed out to make their way to the park.
An uneasy sort of silence encompassed them once they entered the car and Flora felt confused by the eeriness of it all. It wasn't normal to see Layton and Luke both be so... distant, especially when she knew them both to be rather warm and friendly with one another, a happy student and his kind teacher. Sir Luke was well defended by his aloof and cold nature that pushed everyone away, including herself, which brought her a sharp pain that she didn't quite understand. Even young Hershel seemed to have withdrawn, glaring at his older self every now and then and huffing indignantly. At one point, he even glared at Luke with something very much akin to a young fury in his eyes before folding his arms over his chest and scowling out the window.
This wasn't looking to be the relaxing and peaceful picnic the Professor had hoped for.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The park was small and had several other families already there, along with a troupe rehearsing for an outdoor play. Hershel and Young Luke ran ahead to pick out a spot for the picnic, actually cooperating for once and agreeing upon a nice shady place under a grand tree that had a wonderful view of the park. Luke liked it for being so open and easy to run out into the sunshine once he had his fill of lunch; Hershel liked it for giving him full view of the park and the Laytonmobile, plus having a nice bit of cover should anything go wrong.
Penford carried the basket as Flora walked quietly beside Layton, fingering the handkerchief in her pocket as she worried over the young man's reactions to the insignia she had sewn in. From what she could recall on that horrid day, Sir Luke had gone rather pale at seeing the monogrammed 'L' in the blue cap and looked almost faint when she had explained that it stood for his name. It didn't quite make sense; why would he react so badly to his own name? She puzzled it over while Penford handed the basket to Layton so he could run up to the two young boys by the tree, who decided to call off their truce and set to wrestling on the grass again in their feud over their mentors.
"Why do you keep trying to murder one another?!" the young man sighed in exasperation, pulling his past self off of Hershel as Young Luke managed one last kick to the other boy's back, shoving him back into the earth, "Luke! Stop that! Do you want to break the Professor's back?!"
"He started it!" the blue-clad young apprentice shouted as he was dropped off by Layton. The Professor winced at his younger self's condition and gave Young Luke a stern look that he shied away from guiltily, which only made Layton look rather dispirited.
Between cleaning up a bloodied nose and getting everything set up for the picnic, the Professor and Penford both seemed to dance around whatever was bothering them with idle chatter of trivial things. It was awkward and rather petty, but the elder Luke didn't seem to be forthcoming in what was on his mind and Layton looked as though he was uncertain of where he stood in regards to either one of the two Lukes. Penford finally sighed in exasperation after yet another inquiry in what the weather was like in future London and stood up from the blanket.
"This is getting to be ridiculous." he muttered, pulling out his watch and clicking it open to check again. He frowned deeper and closed it, slipping it back into his pocket, "If no one minds, I'm going to go for a walk to clear my head. Hershel, stay here where it's safe." The young Layton jerked his head up from his puzzle book, eyes wide with alarm.
"But, Sir Luke! You need me with you so I can spot the bad man!" Hershel exclaimed and the young man shot him another glare.
"I can take care of myself, Hershel, I do carry a dagger for that reason. You will stay here and do your work. I won't be going that far away; it's a small park and a short walk." Penford returned sternly and left the group, giving Layton a vaguely disappointed look and shaking his head slightly as he went on his way. Hershel mumbled something under his breath, shoving the book aside as though losing all interest in the puzzles, and the elder Layton felt a chilling familiarity with what he had just witnessed before him.
~*~*~*~*~*
He wore an orange sweater over a pressed white shirt and navy green tie, his satchel at his side as always. He had spent more time than necessary in front of his vanity, smoothing back his hair and scowling at that wretched little lock that refused to stay with the rest, hanging down by his temple and mocking him. There was the temptation to just take a pair of scissors to it, but no. His father would notice somehow and raise hell. Hershel Layton rolled his eyes and snorted, blowing out a puff of air that sent the tendril of hair to swaying and eventually poking his eye.
"Bloody...!" he griped, one hand flying up to rub at his injury as a sharp rapping came at the door, "I'm almost done, wait a blooming minute!" Perfect, perfect; he had to be at his very best today. Since he completed his studies in school, he was going on to be apprenticed to his father for the duration of his classes at the university. He picked out his finest casuals, polished his shoes, and rehearsed his acceptance speech. Well, to be honest, he had the maids pick out his finest casuals, with the occasional snort when he was presented with some article of clothing that didn't agree with him; he had a shoe shine boy brought in to polish his shoes and sat there, watching him so intently that the poor child nearly had a conniption when Hershel brought out his wallet to pay him; and then he rehearsed his speech so many times out of nervousness, he had to stop when he began dry-heaving at the mention of Harold's name.
And his hair decided to make him look like a complete dipstick today.
"I should rip you from my scalp by the roots!" Hershel fumed, shaking a fist at the reflection of his hair in the vanity as the door to his room opened and one of the maids entered. The young man blinked at the mirror, seeing her step in through the reflection, and turned to face her with a pout, "I said I was almost done, Catalina; you don't have to keep babying me." The elderly woman only smiled genially and picked up his top hat, a recent purchase made just for this day.
"You were about to ruin your nice hair." she told him and smoothed back the renegade tendril, slipping the brown silk hat on immediately after to hold it in place, "There. You look very handsome. You will make your papa proud." She clapped her thin hand against his cheek affectionately and Hershel couldn't help but smile back at her. "Hershel, such a good boy you are; very smart, very clever. You will go far in this life. I know this." Catalina confided warmly and bustled off to pick out his jacket, "You will do very well, and you will have many good things come to you! Good careers, good futures, good fortunes...." She pulled a simple brown cloak from his wardrobe and smiled coyly at him as she held it out towards Hershel, "Good woman to be good wife and mother. You will bring children in for me to look after, yes?" The 17-year-old rolled his eyes again, a faint blush coloring his cheeks as he accepted the jacket and slipped it on.
"Catalina, this is a critical time for me. I must focus on my studies and be vigilant in my duties as a proper gentleman. That leaves no time to dally with the fairer sex." he declared primly and the elderly maid lifted an eyebrow, tapping her fingers against her mouth.
"And what will you do if a lady asks you for a bit of play, hmm? What then, Mr. Gentleman Layton?" she asked and Hershel grinned, a wide smile full of mischief as he chuckled, lifting his own hand to his chin in consideration.
"Well, a gentleman never refuses the request of a beautiful lady." he replied and winked as he picked up his satchel, slinging it over his shoulder, "I'd better hurry to the museum. Can't be late for my official apprenticeship!" He dropped a chaste kiss on Catalina's cheek and hurried off, waving back to her as an after-thought.
--
He made it to the museum in the nick of time, spending another few minutes in the lobby straightening his clothes and making sure his hair behaved itself under his hat before heading out to mingle with the crowd. University scholars and professors, students of various backgrounds, prominent officials; the feeling of elitism was heavy in the air and Hershel only just managed to avoid both wincing at the feeling and dipping his slender fingers into someone's waistcoat pocket to filch a few pounds for later. He'd been trying to wash his hands of his Hawk-Eye persona, but it clung stubbornly to him, lending him a strangely wily and graceful air that attracted quite a few eyes in his direction from the lady folk of London -and some from the men folk, disturbingly enough.
Luckily, he held onto his keen sight and ability to detect things and people that didn't quite belong or were up to no good, so Hershel swiftly moved through the crowd, evading the owners of those wandering eyes as he made quick small talk with various officials and scholars while looking for his father. Every man and woman he asked said the same thing to him; Professor Layton was in his office with the Director of the Historical Museum. And Hershel just knew that going near that door meant certain doom. Everyone knew that unspoken rule about him and that office.
Professor Layton was not a very nice gentleman when it came to being walked in on in his office.
But Hershel had spent most of the night working on his presentation thesis and wanted his father to look at it; it was in regards to a ruin he'd found and included evidence of the people's use of puzzles to decide arguments. His mother had read it over already and smiled her usual smile, declaring that the thesis was very original and would certainly bring more attention to the seriousness of puzzle-solving. Confidence bolstered by this, Hershel felt himself ready to bring it to his father's attention. So despite his developed thief's sense warning him fiercely to turn back before it was too late, the young Layton headed straight for Harold's office door, fully intent on knocking like any proper gentleman. He paused when he heard voices from beyond the partially opened door, and without really knowing why, he kept quiet and listened.
"Remarkable! Simply remarkable!" the Director remarked proudly, "Just imagine it! I'll have two Professor Laytons working with us soon enough!" Hershel felt a surge of emotion at that, brightening at the thought himself. How glorious it would be, to have the title of Professor and work alongside his father! That would make him so proud! "So," the Director went on and Hershel listened more eagerly, "How does it feel to be working with your son in only an hour or so, after he is made your apprentice?" There was a rustle of papers from Harold Layton's desk, no doubt from his last minute reviews.
"Son? Good sir, that is preposterous." Hershel heard his father say with a scoff, "I have no son in the field of archaeology."
And it was then that Hershel felt his entire world simply shatter to pieces. He backed away from the door in numb horror, eyes wide and filled with pain. All his efforts, all his work, the nights of toil and days of hardship, and his father... rejected him? Even declared he didn't exist in the same field as himself? Then... what had it all been for? He dropped his thesis, letting it slip from his fingers as a sob escaped him, then turned and fled from the office, running as fast as his legs could carry him. He pushed through the crowd of elites, ignoring their put-off cries. It all meant nothing; he had completely failed to please his father and earn his pride. He'd shed his life as Hawk-Eye for the chance to truly be loved by his father and failed miserably....
~*~*~*~*~*~*
Layton snapped himself out of his thoughts, shaking his head clear of them. Luke had been calling his title for some time now and he'd been too far into his memories to acknowledge him.
"Ah, my apologies, Luke. What were you saying?" he murmured, uncertain as to how to feel about the boy now. Luke blinked up at him, then sighed almost resignedly, shaking his head as he got to his feet.
"It's nothing, Professor. I think I'll go for a walk as well." he replied and managed a smile, "Maybe I can catch up to Sir Penford and ask him a few questions. Perhaps find a hidden puzzle or two." He gave his mentor a hesitant wave, then hurried off to find his older self, leaving Layton behind to sigh as well and look over at his sullen younger self.
"I hope you don't grow up to be as moody as Penford." he remarked dryly and Hershel uttered a short laugh, stripping off his little brown jacket to keep cool, remaining in a white shirt and brown vest.
"Doubt it, Layton." the boy returned and reached for a tart.
--
Luke hurried along, trying to keep the figure in blue ahead of him in sight. He hadn't realized just how quickly he could move until he had to step into the Professor's shoes for once and try keeping up with himself -future self. He probably could have kept better pace had he not kept spotting all the hidden puzzles scattered around himself in the park, little sparks of curiosity that seemed to just jump at his eyes from all over the place. At one point, he stopped and rubbed at his eyes, trying to clear his vision, then yelped as he was bumped into by someone.
"Oh, dreadfully sorry! James, apologize to the boy." a woman remarked sternly to a boy at her side. The boy mumbled an apology to Luke and he watched as he and the woman hurried along to meet with a gentleman nearby. Obviously a family out on a picnic of their own; Luke felt a sharp pang as he watched them leave. He barely remembered his own parents, only knew that he had them at one point but they both died when he was only a year or so old. Luke had no family left and thought of the Professor as a replacement father, a parent to take the place of the ones he'd lost so long ago.
And now it seemed as if things were moving to separate them, and Luke would lose his family all over again. Fighting back a sob, he rushed onward to find Penford. Maybe, just maybe, he could convince his elder self to go back in time a little further, just a little, and save their parents. Then he wouldn't be a burden to the Professor and he would have his family.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"He's quite intelligent, yes. Seems to do quite well in science and math, has a little trouble with history but I'm sure the Professor can see to that." the headmistress remarked to her colleague, gesturing towards the roomful of boys and girls but Luke knew they were talking about him. He shivered slightly at the mention of a 'Professor'; it didn't sound like a pleasant thing. Was he going to be punished for being behind in his history lessons? This orphanage took in children that were of good quality breeding, with potential in arts and sciences, and sent them off to be taken in as apprentices in various institutions. Unless they were found to be sorely lacking, in which case they were sold to the working class as disappointments and failures. Luke always tried to keep up his pace to avoid such a fate. Surely he would be found worthy of an institute of science one day, and perhaps find out what had happened to put him in this lonely life.
Would this 'Professor' be the thing to dash all his hopes?
"The Professor will be expecting him to arrive promptly at two o'clock tomorrow afternoon for a personal confirmation of his skills. What are we to do about the other interested party? They certainly fit with his strengths and he'd do far better with them." the headmistress's companion questioned, his brows furrowed together uncertainly. The woman scoffed, waving her hand flippantly at the mention of another person.
"Absolutely not. They didn't fill out the forms all that properly anyway. Besides, would you want to be the one to say 'no' to the Great Professor?" she retorted, "We'd be ruined by the gossip within an hour! No, no; we're giving him to the Professor and that will be that." Luke frowned slightly; science was his strongest subject. All the children sent into institutions that fitted their strengths did very well, and returned each day to the orphanage with smug grins and puffed chests, always rubbing their exploits into the faces of the younger children, the ones not yet ready for apprenticeship, like Luke had been until his eighth birthday. Why were they going to send him into apprenticeship with someone in his weakest subject?
"'Ey!" one of the other boys called rudely, shoving Luke from behind so he fumbled with his pencil and scrawled over his worksheet, "You think you's gonna be better than us, 'cuz you's getting apprenticed to that Professor? Bull!" Another shove sent him tumbling out of his seat.
"Bugger off! I don't even know who this Professah bloke is!" Luke snapped back, picking himself off the floor and snatching up his paper, "Just leave me alone!" He started walking off to find another secluded spot in which to work, but the other orphans followed, teasing and taunting all the while.
"Doesn't even know who it is that wants to take him in as an apprentice! Already bumbling at the job; I give 'im two days before he gets sent back 'ere and the mistress decides to sell 'im to the workhouse! I don't see why I wasn't picked for the Professor to take as an apprentice; I'm so much better at history than Luke!" they ribbed and Luke blinked back tears, barely able to focus on the puzzle worksheet in his hands.
--
The next day, he picked up his satchel, ignored still more jabs from the other boys, and began making his way to the taxi that would take him to the Professor's office. One of the orphans, on his way to the carriage that would take him to the institution where he studied, called out to Luke for a final stab.
"If you do anything that messes up your chance with Professor Layton, the headmistress will be so embarrassed, she's going to sell you to the factories as a scullery boy! Hope you studied up on your history; he's an archaeologist and the pride of London!" the older boy taunted and entered the carriage in laughter. Luke gripped his satchel tightly as he boarded the taxi, mind already filling with horrors. He couldn't let that happen! He'd just have to be the very best apprentice he could be to this Professor Layton person. Whatever he taught, Luke would learn and he would study until his eyes rebelled!
By the time he was brought to the small building where the Professor had his office, Luke had already steeled himself for the dictator he imagined his new mentor to be. He walked stiffly to the door, stared in confusion at the top hat that decorated the glass, then shook himself off and knocked firmly. It opened after a few moments and Luke stared up for the first time at the man called Professor Layton. Layton blinked back at him, then smiled warmly.
"You must be Luke Penford; come on in, my boy, you're just in time for tea." he invited and Luke wasn't entirely sure what it was about the man that made him suddenly feel relaxed and safe, but he wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. He stepped into the office, glancing around in awe at the piles of paperwork, maps, globes and various old trinkets and stones lining the shelves on the walls and in display cases. It was like stepping into a secret little room in a museum. When Luke was offered a seat on the little sofa, he sat down as carefully as he could while the Professor poured tea for them both. "My name is Hershel Layton; pleased to meet you." the older man remarked, setting the teapot aside. Luke echoed the greeting, still glancing around from time to time out of curiosity. The Professor smiled and gestured around the room. "From what you can see of my office, I am a professor of archaeology and so I will be teaching you how to assist me in my research of the ancient world. You already seem rather interested in the subject, if I may add." he chuckled.
"Ah, yes, sir. I will learn all I can and do my best for you, sir." Luke replied, trying to keep his uncertainty out of his tone, picking up the teacup in both hands and slurping some of the liquid to soothe his dry throat. Layton watched him with a slight downward twitch of his mouth.
"I am also a gentleman, and I believe you may benefit a great deal in learning to be one as well." he added, reaching out to reorient the teacup in Luke's hands, "Like this, my boy, and sip, don't slurp." Luke gulped, hands shaking nervously as he tried to take a sip, still managing to slurp noisily at the tea. The Professor gave him a weak but polite smile. "Well, it does take some getting used to; we'll work on that some more at another time." he relented and reached for a wooden curio sitting on the desk, "Now, Luke, take a look at this and tell me what you make of it." He held it out and Luke set the cup down, rubbing his hands against his shorts before taking the curio and tuning out the soft, exasperated sigh Layton issued at his 'cleaning'.
"It looks like some kind of puzzle, sir." Luke finally said, fingers already working at moving the pieces on it, "I bet I could solve it if I...." He fell silent then, concentrating on undoing the puzzle bit by bit as the Professor watched him with a gentle smile. It took a few minutes and some mistakes, but the boy finally held out the curio with a laugh, "There! I solved it!" Luke grinned even more broadly when Layton clapped his hands in approval.
"Well done, my boy! Puzzles are my passion, you see, and they make the world a mysterious and beautiful place." the man told him, "As my apprentice, I will teach you how to assist me in my archaeological research, how to be a gentleman of utmost quality, and most of all, how to appreciate a good puzzle. You'll learn critical thinking and gain a sharp eye for puzzles." Luke looked up at him excitedly, his earlier nervousness and fears melting away; he could do this, he could learn to be a solver of puzzles as well!
"Yes, sir!" he chirped brightly and Layton chuckled softly, warmly, tipping his top hat back with a wink.
"Call me Professor, my boy. You are my student now, as well as my apprentice." he remarked, "Shall we get started then? This is my working office; the majority of my puzzles are in my home office." He stood and led Luke to the door. "We'll take my car to my home and we'll begin with a few puzzles to see where your mental strengths lie. Perhaps we can fit in a few gentlemanly lessons as well."
"Right away, Professah!" Luke exclaimed eagerly, bounding after him in better spirits.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Luke shook his head clear of the memories, smiling ruefully at them. After that, he began taking more pride in his apprenticeship with the Professor, and loved his puzzle-solving lessons most of all. Science and math didn't matter as much as they used to, and history became more interesting, now that he knew some of those challenging puzzles and riddles dated back thousands of years. The lessons on gentlemanly duty were something he wasn't as enthused about, but if learning them made the Professor that much happier with him and prouder of him, then he would gladly suffer through the rituals of learning etiquette and manners and all that nonsense. He even struggled to pronounce his title properly, 'Professor' instead of 'Professah' as the effort to say the last syllable seemed to make him beam all the more warmly.
But somewhere along the way, Luke must have failed somehow, and thus the Professor was securing his future elsewhere. Maybe in something involving science of one kind or another, since Penford came traveling through time to follow them for some peculiar reason, trying to prevent an event from happening that shouldn't have happened. Luke puzzled over that for a moment. Perhaps Penford was trying to prevent the termination of his apprenticeship? He would try asking. The young man had finally stopped and sat on a bench, fiddling with his pocket-watch again. Sighing in relief, Luke hurried to join him, waving a hand to gain his attention.
"Penford!" he cried, "I want to talk to you!" And his older self looked up at him in surprise, hands clapping the watch shut again.
~*~*~*~*~*
Hershel sighed in irritation as he flicked blades of grass off his shorts. Flora had already gone with the Professor in search of a powder room and he was left to guard the picnic blanket and basket on his own. This whole day had been a crock in his thinking, and he'd give anything to relieve some tension by going off to play with the Gutter Valley Boys. He scanned the park over quickly to double check on the people around him, making sure none of them were that creepy old man or the creepier young bloke, then leaned back against the tree trunk with another sigh. If only Sir Luke would come back, then they could go somewhere else for a while together, just the two of them, like they used to do. Things were so much nicer in the past, and he didn't have to worry about this pudgy old man calling himself Professor Layton mucking things up and making Sir Luke so sad and bitter all the time.
That's why he was there; to help Sir Luke in his mission and keep him from being so bloody grim and depressed about everything! Hershel folded his arms over his chest in a huff, hair messy from being blown about by the wind since he'd set his little top hat down for the time being. What good was being a Layton if he couldn't do the things he loved and help those he cared about? He'd much rather remain as Hawk-Eye and have all the fun he wanted that way. His gaze dropped to his shoes, a small frown crossing his mouth. But if he did that, then he wouldn't have any chance at making his father proud of him. He wanted to be a great archaeologist, too, so his father would beam at him the same way this future version of himself beamed at Young Luke, so full of pride and love.
Why was it so hard to decide on his future? If he stayed as Hawk-Eye, he would be able to hone his skills and be a force to be feared on the streets of London. But he would eventually lose touch with his mother and father, and Professor Layton, Harold Layton, would never be proud of him. Give up Hawk-Eye to follow his father and he'd eventually become this weak old bloke that could be snuck up on at any time. How embarrassing! Hershel rubbed his hair furiously, trying to choose between the two fates before deciding he'd deal with it later. Now was not the time to worry about his own future; he had to look after Sir Luke and make sure he wasn't attacked by those strange men again!
"Penford's apprentice will save the day!" he declared suddenly, thrusting a finger into the air proudly before sitting back against the tree again, a grin on his face. He would do all he could to help Sir Luke; after all, that was the whole reason why he'd run away from home to begin with.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
He had run to his room as soon as he was let down from his mother's arms. From there, Hershel raced to the window and threw aside the curtains, watching in tears as Sir Luke walked down the driveway, past the fountain that nearly gave the boy another conniption, and then to the front gate. Once he reached it, there was a little burst of light and Hershel could see the young man mount the magic scooter that had appeared, then drive off until he was out of sight.
Sobbing bitterly, the boy turned and threw himself onto his bed, feeling a keen sense of loneliness settle over him. It wasn't fair; he only had his mentor for a week and now he was gone, off to save some other boy. What about him?! Didn't he deserve to be saved too? Saved from this dull and tedious existence of trying so hard to be everything that could make his father proud of him? Sir Luke was a different person from Harold Layton; he seemed to be proud of Hershel no matter what he did, always smiling at him when he thought Hershel wasn't looking. And if he solved a puzzle or remembered a gentlemanly lesson, Sir Luke just about shone as bright as the sun with pride. Why couldn't his own father be like that?
And why couldn't he keep his mentor around so that he could feel more fulfilled, knowing that at least one person besides his mother would be so proud of him when he did something he loved to do? Was that other boy more important?
"He-he wants to save the other one... because they really need his help." Hershel sniffled, sitting up and rubbing his eyes dry of tears, "A gentleman helps those around him who are in need. Because, that's what a gentleman does." And if Sir Luke was going away to help someone, then as a young gentleman-in-training Hershel had to help him too. He slid off the bed, then headed for his satchel, dumping its contents out onto the bed. Of that, he repacked his puzzle book, some paper and a pencil, then began stuffing some clothes into the bag. Just for a couple of days, at least; if he needed more, he was confident that Sir Luke could purchase more for him. He paid for so many other things for him already, surely his mentor was just as wealthy as the Layton Family and only traveled far more modestly than most people in his class!
Hershel took another piece of paper and a fresh pencil, then wrote a short note for his parents, so they wouldn't do anything bothersome like call a constable or a truancy officer to fetch him later. He explained what he was going to do, where he was going, and added that everything would be just fine since he would be with Sir Luke the whole trip. The matter would probably be resolved in a few days and they would be coming back together and everything would be fine. Hershel signed his name and headed off to pull the sheets from his bed, twisting and knotting them up until they were formed into a rudimentary rope ladder. He tied one end to his bedpost, opened the window, and threw the rest out until it hung just above the ground. Satisfied with his preparations, Hershel pulled on his coat, fixed his top hat in place, slung on his satchel, then began descending his makeshift ladder. Those lessons on sneaking out were really paying off!
--
He found Sir Luke entering the alley by the Museum of Science and rushed to catch up, huffing as he held his satchel's strap in place and his hat down on his head. He rounded the corner just as his mentor stood in the alley, his back facing the street.
"I'm coming with you!" Hershel shouted as a surprise greeting, lunging at him to give him a hug, excited to be a part of Sir Luke's rescue mission. He was certainly surprised, spinning around and staring at him like he'd seen a specter of the night. Sir Luke cried something about his watch and traveling through time, Hershel couldn't exactly remember because this strange light seemed to pass over them both and then there was this ungodly painful sensation of something that felt like burning. On his skin and in his body, just this awful, awful burning and he screamed, hanging on tight to Sir Luke's jacket and his mentor had grabbed onto him, crying out too, and then it all blurred and that was that.
~*~*~*~*~*~*
Hershel huffed again, watching his supposed older self returning to the picnic spot with Flora at his side. And that was how he wound up dragged into the future on a mission to help Sir Luke's younger self escape some fate. He just couldn't grasp how that snotty little urchin that fawned over this time period's Professor Layton could possibly become the refined gentleman that was Sir Luke. It was just ridiculous and completely unfair! That Luke boy was nowhere near the same level in skill and gentlemanly behavior as Hershel, and yet that Layton bloke seemed to just adore the little runt. Why couldn't his own father be like that?!
"Not fair." he muttered and took another tart. Sir Luke was acting all out of sorts because of him, too. He used to have all kinds of interesting puzzles and stories and lessons to teach him, and ever since they got to this time and started living with this lot, he'd stopped doing any of that. All his attention went straight to the older man. Hershel had to make do with the Flora girl and the younger Luke for companionship, and he wasn't happy with either one. "Layton." he called once the two of them arrived and settled down again, "If you're an archaeologist and everything, does that mean that Father is proud of us? Since you've become everything he wanted you to be, which is everything I quite dislike, he must be as puffed up as a peacock."
The older man stiffened and gave him an impassive expression, all emotion wiped clean from his face. Hershel lifted an eyebrow, whistling at the action. That was impressive; he could tell a hundred lies with a face like that and earn a fortune in games of bluff and trickery.
"That, my dear boy, is something you are not privileged to know of yet." Layton told him firmly and picked up his cup of tea, "Now put your coat back on and do fix your hair a little; you look like a ruffian, sitting like that and with that air of insolence about you."
"How dare you tell me how to act!" Hershel growled back, "Look at you, all pompous and self-important; you act just like my father and I hate it! You went and gave up who you were to become someone we both despise; a bloody wanker!" He jumped at the abrupt clatter of teacup on saucer, but stayed put, scowling at the stern look coming from the elder man. Flora had covered her ears again, staring with wide shocked eyes at him.
"We do not use that kind of language, young man, especially in front of a lady!" Layton lectured firmly, "I refuse to believe that you would disregard the lessons of your mentor in his absence; I know that Luke wouldn't do the same if I were to be indisposed for any reason." Hershel huffed, shrugging his shoulders indifferently.
"Well, we won't ever know that, then, seeing as how you being the great and noble Professor Layton means you'll always be around to coddle your little urchin. Wonder how he'd be if you up and vanished on him one day?" he questioned and the Professor turned away from him, shaking his head.
"I believe in Luke's ability to continue to be a gentleman whether I am there or not. I know he'll do the proper thing and continue his studies, especially now that I've secured his future." he murmured and his hand went to his pocket, "If something should happen to me, and God forbid that to occur, then I am confident that Luke would press forward with honor and nobility. He would look to the future and hold the memories of the past to treasure the present, because that's what a gentleman should do." Hershel listened to his words, then slowly let a smile spread over his face, eyes closing halfway in a smug expression.
"If you're so confident that he'd move forward and not look back, then what's Sir Luke doing in the past, clinging to you like a lost puppy?" he mused aloud and Layton looked puzzled, truly baffled for the first time that day.
"I have no idea, but it must have something to do with how I am securing his future. Why else would he take such an interest in my work and claim to be called Penford?" he wondered. Flora blinked at him and gasped, batting her eyes rapidly before digging around in her pocket for the handkerchief.
"Professor, may it have something to do with this? Sir Penford seemed to go quite pale when I first showed him this and told him I stitched the initial of his name into it." she remarked, holding up the folded cloth for Layton to examine. Hershel perked up in interest, crawling forward to see for himself as the elder man accepted it and opened it to reveal the blue cap and gold lettering. Both of them took on surprised expressions, looking at one another briefly before returning to gaze at the embroidery.
"It's almost like the Layton Insignia, but with Sir Luke's cap instead of the top hat." Hershel remarked in wonder, "Like his version of the Layton Family symbol. Why would he turn pale at the sight of it? He should be honored to carry this as a sign of employment by the Laytons!" The elder man groaned softly, one hand lifting to cover his eyes.
"My word, this confirms my suspicions." he whispered and suddenly pulled his hand away in alarm, "Where is Luke? And Penford?"
"They haven't come back from their walks." Hershel replied, standing up and brushing himself off, "We'd better find them, before those old blokes decide to pop in and cause trouble." They hurriedly collected their things and packed up the picnic basket before setting off at a brisk pace to find the two Lukes.
~*~*~*~*~*
"...so, I'm not even certain that I'll be with the Professor much longer and all I really want is to be with someone who loves me for me, to be in a family again!" Young Luke finished his rambling in a breathless rush, "So, if it's possible, could you go back a little further in time and find out what happened to our parents, and maybe even save them?" Luke closed his eyes with a sigh and shook his head in the negative. "Eh?! But why?!"
"All events are connected, Luke, like the pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. If you alter any of the pieces, the end picture changes and some pieces even become obsolete." Luke explained cautiously, turning the Time-Binder in his hands as the boy beside him pulled his legs up in dejection, "Or better yet, like the tracks laid down for a train to run on. Each event is a switch and Time is the main line of tracks. When you change an event, you switch a track and history is the train that runs on those tracks, so you alter the course of history when you change an event. Understand?"
"But you're changing things around already, aren't you?" Young Luke pointed out, "I don't see why it would matter if you changed a switch further back on the track." The young man pinched the bridge of his nose, wondering how best to describe things without compromising himself.
"All right, Luke, let's go back to the idea of trains and tracks. Time is the track laid down for history, which is the train, and all the switches that control where the train goes are major historical events. All I've done so far is watch the switches flip from my seat in the train. I'm a passenger on that train, just like you and Hershel and Flora and the Professor." he tried again, speaking slowly and surely, "If anything has changed, it's been something I didn't do myself and the train only picks up speed or slows down because of the alteration of the event. The event still happened but our train only reached the switch to the track earlier or later than scheduled. The switch did not flip the other way.
"If I were to go back to the time our parents lived, and changed the events to allow them to continue living, then a major switch would be turned another way and the train that is our history would run on another line of tracks, with different passengers. It would be you, your mother, and your father. Do you see what is missing now?" Young Luke gasped, staring up at his elder self.
"Where's the Professor and Flora? Where are you and Hershel?" he blurted out worriedly. Luke shrugged.
"You would never meet." he remarked simply, bluntly, "Because you would have your parents, there would be no reason to have you sent to an orphanage, which is where Professor Layton eventually discovered you and made you his apprentice. And being the son of the Penfords, you would be raised to be a scientist like them; you would have no need of archaeology or puzzles, so you would have no reason to seek out the Professor yourself. So you would not be there if and when the Professor rescued Flora." Luke held the Time-Binder up by its fob, watching it spin slowly and sparkle in the sunlight. "And if you never became the Professor's apprentice, then I would have no reason to come from the future, because my only reason to be here is to observe him, and if I don't travel through time, I would never run into Hershel and have him travel with me." he added, "So many other events lost because I changed one event. Do you see how troublesome time travel can be? And how dangerous it is to alter events that should not be changed?"
Young Luke nodded slowly, still looking saddened by that. Luke hesitated a moment, then reached out and pulled him close for an awkward hug, patting him on the shoulder.
"Change one event, and our whole life is changed drastically. And for the life of me I can't decide whether that change is for the better or worse." the boy murmured, leaning into his elder self for support, "Would it be best to alter the past so I can have my family, or leave them to remain dead so I can have these two years I've spent with the Professor and these few months with Flora in our house? Penford, which would you choose?" Luke looked down at him, then up at the rest of the park, uttering a soft, tired sigh.
"Which would I choose, if I were to alter the course of Time and history?" he echoed, "That question is one that is not easily asked, nor easily answered. But it is one that I had asked myself when I first began preparing for this trip." He closed his eyes, thinking back on his last few days in the future before he took the Time-Binder and made the jump with the help of one of his staff members, the researcher who ultimately betrayed him in some way.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The laboratory was deathly silent and dark when Luke and his assistant hurried inside, resisting the urges to flip on the lights and relying on batter-operated torches to make their way to the Temporal Slipstream Device. It had been several months since the devices were completed, tested, and deemed successes, during which there had been a flurry of activity from the Ministry of Defense in setting everything up to act as though his time travel research was a dead end and to disavow any information that cropped up to claim the Queen knew of Luke's research and helped fund the development of time travel technology. So much work was put into hushing all mouths that knew anything about the Time-Binder, the Slipstream Device, or any of the quantum theories Luke had written out that proved time travel was possible that the world in general began to whole-heartedly believe that the stories of London's young Professor investigating the grand puzzle of Time itself were little more than drunk men's rumors.
After all that, Luke's Quantum Lab 4 became England's version of America's Area 51, a non-existent building housing non-existent technology for leaping through time and mucking with the past and future... which was simply perfect for Luke's plans. He had been given audience with the Queen Herself in regards to his technology, and she had told him that for all intents and purposes, his research and his inventions were fruitless efforts and would be written as complete failures, a mark that would smudge his family name but would be publicly cleared by her will once things had settled down in the Ministry of Defense. He accepted those terms. After that had been made clear and the papers were given word to print the story of his wasted research, the Queen summoned him again and Luke was asked to explain what exactly he meant to do with his technology.
"Alter a single event, so London will have its light returned as bright as ever." he had replied seriously, grimly, "The death of Professor Hershel Layton should not have taken place, and it is my sole mission to go into history and change the outcome of that singular day, thus preventing the loss of one of our most brilliant men."
"Your research claims that all events are connected, Professor." the Queen had murmured quietly, gazing at him from her desk in her study, "The death of your mentor is what drove you to become who you are now. If that should change, what would become of you?"
"I would cease to exist, Your Majesty." Luke returned honestly, still kneeling before her in respect, "Without his death, I would have no reason to create the ability to time travel, and thus I, as the quantum engineer, would have no cause to exist. Quite simply, I will be erased from Time." The Queen tilted her head in consideration.
"We would like to ask you, Professor, if this is truly what you wish to do with your life. Given the choice to have Professor Hershel Layton returned in exchange for your life, and leaving history as it is written to continue working for the benefits of your fellow man in his honor, which would you take?" she asked and Luke closed his eyes with a smile.
"Your Majesty, my choice was made when I decided to invest my skills and efforts in creating my technology. Success would mean a better life for us all, and only my life is paid as the price. Failure would mean I was not skilled nor worthy enough to carry his name, and thus my life is forfeit anyway." he replied and finally looked up at the elderly woman, "I plan to travel tonight, with the aid of an assistant to operate the main device and open the gate through Time." The Queen only gazed down at him, silent for a long moment before she finally gave a subtle nod.
"You have our blessing on your endeavor, and may God have mercy on your soul as you make your journey. You will be tampering with His workings, and only by His Grace will you succeed or fail." she told him quietly, "And as you have told us, either way, your life is forfeit. It shall be written that, on this night, Professor Layton passed away, leaving no trace to be found. The estate will be taken in and divided at our discretion."
"As you wish, Your Majesty. Thank you for your blessing." Luke murmured and left once the Queen dismissed him.
--
Straight after that, Luke made his way into the laboratory with one of the scientists, wrinkling his nose at the smell of smoke that surrounded him. He wasn't fond of the smell, but half his staff smoked to relieve stress that was usually caused by his 'punishments' so he couldn't really complain about it. The older man went to the Slipstream Device and began working its control mechanisms, tapping at the keys to bring it to power and get everything operational. Luke made for platform near it, his hand already reaching into his jacket pocket to grab onto the Time-Binder.
"Program the Binder with the data in the file marked as 'Magnum Opus'." he ordered the scientist, "And tell no one that I have done this. Keep the Device running through the night; you will know the sign when I no longer need it active."
"Yes, Professor!" the man declared, eyes on his work as he tapped at keys. Luke scowled at the title as he brought the pocket-watch out and readied himself for the jump. He disliked being called that; after all, he didn't really deserve the title. But he would let it slide this time. Once Luke stepped into the past, none of this would matter anymore.
He would save the one true Professor Layton, or he would die trying. He had already said his goodbyes to his colleagues and employees, and Nazolyn had cried when he admitted that he couldn't continue his relationship with her. His heart simply wasn't in it and he wouldn't be around much longer anyway.
"Which would I choose?" Luke whispered as he gripped the Time-Binder, watching the soft blue light travel from it and over his body, "Here's my answer...."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"I chose my family. The one I've always known; the Professor and Flora." Luke finally answered casually, "And thus here I am, watching over all of you. Simple, really." Young Luke gave him a puzzled look as Layton, Hershel, and Flora hurried up the path to join them.
"There you are!" the Professor exclaimed in relief, "Good heavens, you two, don't leave me to worry like that, especially with two Don Paolos on the loose!" Hershel darted up and leaped into Luke's arms, laughing brightly.
"I spotted you first, Sir Luke! Do I get a prize?" he asked and grinned broadly when his mentor smiled back at him.
"You get a puzzle, Hershel, how's that?" Luke replied and set the boy down, standing up and giving the Professor a glance to check on his condition, "How about a puzzle involving a cat and a mouse?"
"I'm sorry, Professor; I didn't mean to worry you." Young Luke mumbled as he joined his own mentor. Layton settled his hand on the boy's head, giving him a gentle smile.
"It's all right, Luke. Your safety and well-being was foremost in my mind. I just want to keep you and Flora safe." he remarked and his hand went to his pocket again, a vaguely dark expression flitting across his face too quickly to be caught by his apprentice's eyes. It did not go unnoticed by the elder Luke though. "Safety... hmm.... I believe I shall have some work done to the house tomorrow. To have things tidied up and a little safer for us all; I do believe I've held off on it long enough." Flora and Young Luke blinked at him in surprise and the boy seemed to brighten in understanding.
"Oh, you're going to change the locks too? Like Penford said you would?" he asked eagerly and Layton gave the young man a surprised look as he nodded, "Blimey, he really does know all the things that's going to happen! I bet that's one of those event switch things he was talking about!" He cheered and began making his way to the Laytonmobile, challenging Hershel to a race that the other boy quickly accepted, darting after him in a hurry.
"Event switches?" Layton asked of Luke as they walked back at a more leisurely pace, Flora at the elder man's other side, "Would they have anything to do with the hours of your watch, Penford?" The young man gave him a small smile, slipping the Time-Binder back into his pocket.
"You'll just have to solve that puzzle on your own time, Professor." he remarked cryptically, "I merely observe the events; I have no desire to alter them now." Layton lifted an eyebrow at his words.
"But you do intend to alter them later, correct?" he questioned and Luke waved a hand flippantly at the inquiry.
"Oh, just one little change later on in time, Professor! You probably won't even notice it, you'll be far too busy with certain matters." he answered carelessly, "Now let's head back and return that basket, shall we? Mustn't keep Time held up over trivial pursuits when there are grander things in this world to tend to!"
~*~*~*~*~*~*
"And what made you decide to stalk the boy through Time in the first place?" Don Paolo grumbled, turning the silver dagger over in his hand. The elder Don reclined in his chair, fingering the stained pocket-watch he kept on his person at all times. A broad grin broke out on his face at the question.
"Would you believe a note from an alternate future?" he returned and chuckled at the other man's incredulous stare, "I received a letter one day, simply out of the blue, that explained just how valuable that little apprentice could be to us. All I had to do was bide my time until a certain event came to pass, then steal this little watch for my use. I had all the information I needed from that note to enter a special laboratory, get the watch, and jump through time to begin preparing for the next phase."
"And the next phase would be what exactly?" Don Paolo went on, examining the dagger more closely and wondering how much money each of the stones was worth.
"My past self of this time, your future self, would sabotage certain devices to send the boy into a different time, thus allowing me to set up the events that would help shape the future I desire, including the loss of my Bind Rifle, built for this sole purpose." the elder Don replied and traced his fingertip down the scar on his face, "The future I came from, as explained by the note, should not have existed, as the boy took far too long to develop his technology to be of any use. So I saw no reason not to end his life then and there, though he left me this pleasant little reminder that he existed at one point. As it just so happened, the letter also told me that a certain function of this little gadget would only work if it made contact with his DNA, so...." He gestured towards the watch and Don Paolo grimaced in disgust.
"And who exactly sent you this note, detailing a plan to subjugate a brat to us?" he muttered, pulling his eyes from the rust-colored smears to glare at his elder self, who only shrugged in a carefree manner.
"No blooming idea, and I really don't care. All that matters is gaining control of the boy." Maestro replied and narrowed his eyes, gripping the armrests tightly, "He is the last living Penford, after all." Don Paolo nearly dropped the dagger in shock, eyes widening.
"So... you know his identity as well... and of her...." he breathed almost reverently, "Lenora...." Maestro nodded and the younger Don smiled maliciously, gripping the dagger all the more tightly. "Layton foiled my plan to have the boy and earned my undying wrath, but mark my words, I'll have my revenge! All the treasures he seeks, all that he cares for; it will all belong to me!" he declared hotly, shaking a hand into the air as he laughed maniacally. The elder Don only grinned, steepling his fingertips together.
"And quite soon, the Layton line will bow to my command as well." he purred darkly.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
------------
Paradox Lost
~*~*~*~*~*~*
Picking up the picnic basket was almost a herculean effort in itself. Penford stood as far from Layton as possible, his thumb rubbing over his pocket-watch in agitation while the Professor paid for the reserved lunch. The older man sighed as he opened his wallet to gather the amount of money, pausing in confusion at the rumpled scrap of newspaper that was stuck inside. He didn't recall saving a newspaper clipping. Pulling it free, he slipped it into the pocket of his cloak for later examination.
"Could I have some cake too?" Hershel asked of his mentor, tugging eagerly on his hand with bright eyes. Penford blinked in surprise, then smirked at his young apprentice.
"Manners, Hershel." he reminded and the boy laughed sheepishly.
"I mean, may I please have some cake as well?" he amended and the young man seemed to consider it before finally pulling himself together and looking over at the eldest in the group.
"Professor, did you have any plans to include dessert with the lunch?" Penford asked and Layton looked momentarily surprised at the fact that his future apprentice spoke civilly to him since leaving the attorney's office, then smiled a bit more warmly.
"Why, the thought hadn't occurred to me, my boy." he replied and looked to his own charges, "Would you care for dessert as well, Luke? Flora?" Young Luke looked excited, throwing his arms up in the air as Flora lifted a finger to her lip in thought.
"Chocolate cake!" the boy exclaimed and Hershel scowled at him.
"I want strawberry shortcake!" he argued.
"They're rather decadent for a simple picnic." Flora commented slowly, a bit uncertain, "The sweetness might be a bit too much for the children."
"Why don't we settle for a few simple tarts? They work well for any situation." Penford commented casually, managing a thin smile at the Professor thanking him for the suggestion.
"We'll take a dozen fruit tarts as well, thank you." Layton told the woman at the counter as she set the basket up for him to take, "Luke, a little assistance with the lunch will be appreciated." The young apprentice trotted up to help carry the picnic basket, paused as he took it into his hands, then gave a happy yelp that caused the Professor to look down at him and the basket. The bakery had taken precaution to remind the staff who reserved the basket lunch, going so far as to burn a replica of the Layton Family Insignia into the lids. Layton blinked at it, then chuckled sheepishly.
"We'll be returning this once our picnic ends, if you don't mind. But I thank you for your consideration in marking the basket for everyone's peace of mind in regards to my reservation." he told the saleswoman, paying for the lunch and a bag of tarts. She simply smiled and chuckled behind her hand, waving her goodbyes as the group headed out to make their way to the park.
An uneasy sort of silence encompassed them once they entered the car and Flora felt confused by the eeriness of it all. It wasn't normal to see Layton and Luke both be so... distant, especially when she knew them both to be rather warm and friendly with one another, a happy student and his kind teacher. Sir Luke was well defended by his aloof and cold nature that pushed everyone away, including herself, which brought her a sharp pain that she didn't quite understand. Even young Hershel seemed to have withdrawn, glaring at his older self every now and then and huffing indignantly. At one point, he even glared at Luke with something very much akin to a young fury in his eyes before folding his arms over his chest and scowling out the window.
This wasn't looking to be the relaxing and peaceful picnic the Professor had hoped for.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The park was small and had several other families already there, along with a troupe rehearsing for an outdoor play. Hershel and Young Luke ran ahead to pick out a spot for the picnic, actually cooperating for once and agreeing upon a nice shady place under a grand tree that had a wonderful view of the park. Luke liked it for being so open and easy to run out into the sunshine once he had his fill of lunch; Hershel liked it for giving him full view of the park and the Laytonmobile, plus having a nice bit of cover should anything go wrong.
Penford carried the basket as Flora walked quietly beside Layton, fingering the handkerchief in her pocket as she worried over the young man's reactions to the insignia she had sewn in. From what she could recall on that horrid day, Sir Luke had gone rather pale at seeing the monogrammed 'L' in the blue cap and looked almost faint when she had explained that it stood for his name. It didn't quite make sense; why would he react so badly to his own name? She puzzled it over while Penford handed the basket to Layton so he could run up to the two young boys by the tree, who decided to call off their truce and set to wrestling on the grass again in their feud over their mentors.
"Why do you keep trying to murder one another?!" the young man sighed in exasperation, pulling his past self off of Hershel as Young Luke managed one last kick to the other boy's back, shoving him back into the earth, "Luke! Stop that! Do you want to break the Professor's back?!"
"He started it!" the blue-clad young apprentice shouted as he was dropped off by Layton. The Professor winced at his younger self's condition and gave Young Luke a stern look that he shied away from guiltily, which only made Layton look rather dispirited.
Between cleaning up a bloodied nose and getting everything set up for the picnic, the Professor and Penford both seemed to dance around whatever was bothering them with idle chatter of trivial things. It was awkward and rather petty, but the elder Luke didn't seem to be forthcoming in what was on his mind and Layton looked as though he was uncertain of where he stood in regards to either one of the two Lukes. Penford finally sighed in exasperation after yet another inquiry in what the weather was like in future London and stood up from the blanket.
"This is getting to be ridiculous." he muttered, pulling out his watch and clicking it open to check again. He frowned deeper and closed it, slipping it back into his pocket, "If no one minds, I'm going to go for a walk to clear my head. Hershel, stay here where it's safe." The young Layton jerked his head up from his puzzle book, eyes wide with alarm.
"But, Sir Luke! You need me with you so I can spot the bad man!" Hershel exclaimed and the young man shot him another glare.
"I can take care of myself, Hershel, I do carry a dagger for that reason. You will stay here and do your work. I won't be going that far away; it's a small park and a short walk." Penford returned sternly and left the group, giving Layton a vaguely disappointed look and shaking his head slightly as he went on his way. Hershel mumbled something under his breath, shoving the book aside as though losing all interest in the puzzles, and the elder Layton felt a chilling familiarity with what he had just witnessed before him.
~*~*~*~*~*
He wore an orange sweater over a pressed white shirt and navy green tie, his satchel at his side as always. He had spent more time than necessary in front of his vanity, smoothing back his hair and scowling at that wretched little lock that refused to stay with the rest, hanging down by his temple and mocking him. There was the temptation to just take a pair of scissors to it, but no. His father would notice somehow and raise hell. Hershel Layton rolled his eyes and snorted, blowing out a puff of air that sent the tendril of hair to swaying and eventually poking his eye.
"Bloody...!" he griped, one hand flying up to rub at his injury as a sharp rapping came at the door, "I'm almost done, wait a blooming minute!" Perfect, perfect; he had to be at his very best today. Since he completed his studies in school, he was going on to be apprenticed to his father for the duration of his classes at the university. He picked out his finest casuals, polished his shoes, and rehearsed his acceptance speech. Well, to be honest, he had the maids pick out his finest casuals, with the occasional snort when he was presented with some article of clothing that didn't agree with him; he had a shoe shine boy brought in to polish his shoes and sat there, watching him so intently that the poor child nearly had a conniption when Hershel brought out his wallet to pay him; and then he rehearsed his speech so many times out of nervousness, he had to stop when he began dry-heaving at the mention of Harold's name.
And his hair decided to make him look like a complete dipstick today.
"I should rip you from my scalp by the roots!" Hershel fumed, shaking a fist at the reflection of his hair in the vanity as the door to his room opened and one of the maids entered. The young man blinked at the mirror, seeing her step in through the reflection, and turned to face her with a pout, "I said I was almost done, Catalina; you don't have to keep babying me." The elderly woman only smiled genially and picked up his top hat, a recent purchase made just for this day.
"You were about to ruin your nice hair." she told him and smoothed back the renegade tendril, slipping the brown silk hat on immediately after to hold it in place, "There. You look very handsome. You will make your papa proud." She clapped her thin hand against his cheek affectionately and Hershel couldn't help but smile back at her. "Hershel, such a good boy you are; very smart, very clever. You will go far in this life. I know this." Catalina confided warmly and bustled off to pick out his jacket, "You will do very well, and you will have many good things come to you! Good careers, good futures, good fortunes...." She pulled a simple brown cloak from his wardrobe and smiled coyly at him as she held it out towards Hershel, "Good woman to be good wife and mother. You will bring children in for me to look after, yes?" The 17-year-old rolled his eyes again, a faint blush coloring his cheeks as he accepted the jacket and slipped it on.
"Catalina, this is a critical time for me. I must focus on my studies and be vigilant in my duties as a proper gentleman. That leaves no time to dally with the fairer sex." he declared primly and the elderly maid lifted an eyebrow, tapping her fingers against her mouth.
"And what will you do if a lady asks you for a bit of play, hmm? What then, Mr. Gentleman Layton?" she asked and Hershel grinned, a wide smile full of mischief as he chuckled, lifting his own hand to his chin in consideration.
"Well, a gentleman never refuses the request of a beautiful lady." he replied and winked as he picked up his satchel, slinging it over his shoulder, "I'd better hurry to the museum. Can't be late for my official apprenticeship!" He dropped a chaste kiss on Catalina's cheek and hurried off, waving back to her as an after-thought.
--
He made it to the museum in the nick of time, spending another few minutes in the lobby straightening his clothes and making sure his hair behaved itself under his hat before heading out to mingle with the crowd. University scholars and professors, students of various backgrounds, prominent officials; the feeling of elitism was heavy in the air and Hershel only just managed to avoid both wincing at the feeling and dipping his slender fingers into someone's waistcoat pocket to filch a few pounds for later. He'd been trying to wash his hands of his Hawk-Eye persona, but it clung stubbornly to him, lending him a strangely wily and graceful air that attracted quite a few eyes in his direction from the lady folk of London -and some from the men folk, disturbingly enough.
Luckily, he held onto his keen sight and ability to detect things and people that didn't quite belong or were up to no good, so Hershel swiftly moved through the crowd, evading the owners of those wandering eyes as he made quick small talk with various officials and scholars while looking for his father. Every man and woman he asked said the same thing to him; Professor Layton was in his office with the Director of the Historical Museum. And Hershel just knew that going near that door meant certain doom. Everyone knew that unspoken rule about him and that office.
Professor Layton was not a very nice gentleman when it came to being walked in on in his office.
But Hershel had spent most of the night working on his presentation thesis and wanted his father to look at it; it was in regards to a ruin he'd found and included evidence of the people's use of puzzles to decide arguments. His mother had read it over already and smiled her usual smile, declaring that the thesis was very original and would certainly bring more attention to the seriousness of puzzle-solving. Confidence bolstered by this, Hershel felt himself ready to bring it to his father's attention. So despite his developed thief's sense warning him fiercely to turn back before it was too late, the young Layton headed straight for Harold's office door, fully intent on knocking like any proper gentleman. He paused when he heard voices from beyond the partially opened door, and without really knowing why, he kept quiet and listened.
"Remarkable! Simply remarkable!" the Director remarked proudly, "Just imagine it! I'll have two Professor Laytons working with us soon enough!" Hershel felt a surge of emotion at that, brightening at the thought himself. How glorious it would be, to have the title of Professor and work alongside his father! That would make him so proud! "So," the Director went on and Hershel listened more eagerly, "How does it feel to be working with your son in only an hour or so, after he is made your apprentice?" There was a rustle of papers from Harold Layton's desk, no doubt from his last minute reviews.
"Son? Good sir, that is preposterous." Hershel heard his father say with a scoff, "I have no son in the field of archaeology."
And it was then that Hershel felt his entire world simply shatter to pieces. He backed away from the door in numb horror, eyes wide and filled with pain. All his efforts, all his work, the nights of toil and days of hardship, and his father... rejected him? Even declared he didn't exist in the same field as himself? Then... what had it all been for? He dropped his thesis, letting it slip from his fingers as a sob escaped him, then turned and fled from the office, running as fast as his legs could carry him. He pushed through the crowd of elites, ignoring their put-off cries. It all meant nothing; he had completely failed to please his father and earn his pride. He'd shed his life as Hawk-Eye for the chance to truly be loved by his father and failed miserably....
~*~*~*~*~*~*
Layton snapped himself out of his thoughts, shaking his head clear of them. Luke had been calling his title for some time now and he'd been too far into his memories to acknowledge him.
"Ah, my apologies, Luke. What were you saying?" he murmured, uncertain as to how to feel about the boy now. Luke blinked up at him, then sighed almost resignedly, shaking his head as he got to his feet.
"It's nothing, Professor. I think I'll go for a walk as well." he replied and managed a smile, "Maybe I can catch up to Sir Penford and ask him a few questions. Perhaps find a hidden puzzle or two." He gave his mentor a hesitant wave, then hurried off to find his older self, leaving Layton behind to sigh as well and look over at his sullen younger self.
"I hope you don't grow up to be as moody as Penford." he remarked dryly and Hershel uttered a short laugh, stripping off his little brown jacket to keep cool, remaining in a white shirt and brown vest.
"Doubt it, Layton." the boy returned and reached for a tart.
--
Luke hurried along, trying to keep the figure in blue ahead of him in sight. He hadn't realized just how quickly he could move until he had to step into the Professor's shoes for once and try keeping up with himself -future self. He probably could have kept better pace had he not kept spotting all the hidden puzzles scattered around himself in the park, little sparks of curiosity that seemed to just jump at his eyes from all over the place. At one point, he stopped and rubbed at his eyes, trying to clear his vision, then yelped as he was bumped into by someone.
"Oh, dreadfully sorry! James, apologize to the boy." a woman remarked sternly to a boy at her side. The boy mumbled an apology to Luke and he watched as he and the woman hurried along to meet with a gentleman nearby. Obviously a family out on a picnic of their own; Luke felt a sharp pang as he watched them leave. He barely remembered his own parents, only knew that he had them at one point but they both died when he was only a year or so old. Luke had no family left and thought of the Professor as a replacement father, a parent to take the place of the ones he'd lost so long ago.
And now it seemed as if things were moving to separate them, and Luke would lose his family all over again. Fighting back a sob, he rushed onward to find Penford. Maybe, just maybe, he could convince his elder self to go back in time a little further, just a little, and save their parents. Then he wouldn't be a burden to the Professor and he would have his family.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"He's quite intelligent, yes. Seems to do quite well in science and math, has a little trouble with history but I'm sure the Professor can see to that." the headmistress remarked to her colleague, gesturing towards the roomful of boys and girls but Luke knew they were talking about him. He shivered slightly at the mention of a 'Professor'; it didn't sound like a pleasant thing. Was he going to be punished for being behind in his history lessons? This orphanage took in children that were of good quality breeding, with potential in arts and sciences, and sent them off to be taken in as apprentices in various institutions. Unless they were found to be sorely lacking, in which case they were sold to the working class as disappointments and failures. Luke always tried to keep up his pace to avoid such a fate. Surely he would be found worthy of an institute of science one day, and perhaps find out what had happened to put him in this lonely life.
Would this 'Professor' be the thing to dash all his hopes?
"The Professor will be expecting him to arrive promptly at two o'clock tomorrow afternoon for a personal confirmation of his skills. What are we to do about the other interested party? They certainly fit with his strengths and he'd do far better with them." the headmistress's companion questioned, his brows furrowed together uncertainly. The woman scoffed, waving her hand flippantly at the mention of another person.
"Absolutely not. They didn't fill out the forms all that properly anyway. Besides, would you want to be the one to say 'no' to the Great Professor?" she retorted, "We'd be ruined by the gossip within an hour! No, no; we're giving him to the Professor and that will be that." Luke frowned slightly; science was his strongest subject. All the children sent into institutions that fitted their strengths did very well, and returned each day to the orphanage with smug grins and puffed chests, always rubbing their exploits into the faces of the younger children, the ones not yet ready for apprenticeship, like Luke had been until his eighth birthday. Why were they going to send him into apprenticeship with someone in his weakest subject?
"'Ey!" one of the other boys called rudely, shoving Luke from behind so he fumbled with his pencil and scrawled over his worksheet, "You think you's gonna be better than us, 'cuz you's getting apprenticed to that Professor? Bull!" Another shove sent him tumbling out of his seat.
"Bugger off! I don't even know who this Professah bloke is!" Luke snapped back, picking himself off the floor and snatching up his paper, "Just leave me alone!" He started walking off to find another secluded spot in which to work, but the other orphans followed, teasing and taunting all the while.
"Doesn't even know who it is that wants to take him in as an apprentice! Already bumbling at the job; I give 'im two days before he gets sent back 'ere and the mistress decides to sell 'im to the workhouse! I don't see why I wasn't picked for the Professor to take as an apprentice; I'm so much better at history than Luke!" they ribbed and Luke blinked back tears, barely able to focus on the puzzle worksheet in his hands.
--
The next day, he picked up his satchel, ignored still more jabs from the other boys, and began making his way to the taxi that would take him to the Professor's office. One of the orphans, on his way to the carriage that would take him to the institution where he studied, called out to Luke for a final stab.
"If you do anything that messes up your chance with Professor Layton, the headmistress will be so embarrassed, she's going to sell you to the factories as a scullery boy! Hope you studied up on your history; he's an archaeologist and the pride of London!" the older boy taunted and entered the carriage in laughter. Luke gripped his satchel tightly as he boarded the taxi, mind already filling with horrors. He couldn't let that happen! He'd just have to be the very best apprentice he could be to this Professor Layton person. Whatever he taught, Luke would learn and he would study until his eyes rebelled!
By the time he was brought to the small building where the Professor had his office, Luke had already steeled himself for the dictator he imagined his new mentor to be. He walked stiffly to the door, stared in confusion at the top hat that decorated the glass, then shook himself off and knocked firmly. It opened after a few moments and Luke stared up for the first time at the man called Professor Layton. Layton blinked back at him, then smiled warmly.
"You must be Luke Penford; come on in, my boy, you're just in time for tea." he invited and Luke wasn't entirely sure what it was about the man that made him suddenly feel relaxed and safe, but he wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. He stepped into the office, glancing around in awe at the piles of paperwork, maps, globes and various old trinkets and stones lining the shelves on the walls and in display cases. It was like stepping into a secret little room in a museum. When Luke was offered a seat on the little sofa, he sat down as carefully as he could while the Professor poured tea for them both. "My name is Hershel Layton; pleased to meet you." the older man remarked, setting the teapot aside. Luke echoed the greeting, still glancing around from time to time out of curiosity. The Professor smiled and gestured around the room. "From what you can see of my office, I am a professor of archaeology and so I will be teaching you how to assist me in my research of the ancient world. You already seem rather interested in the subject, if I may add." he chuckled.
"Ah, yes, sir. I will learn all I can and do my best for you, sir." Luke replied, trying to keep his uncertainty out of his tone, picking up the teacup in both hands and slurping some of the liquid to soothe his dry throat. Layton watched him with a slight downward twitch of his mouth.
"I am also a gentleman, and I believe you may benefit a great deal in learning to be one as well." he added, reaching out to reorient the teacup in Luke's hands, "Like this, my boy, and sip, don't slurp." Luke gulped, hands shaking nervously as he tried to take a sip, still managing to slurp noisily at the tea. The Professor gave him a weak but polite smile. "Well, it does take some getting used to; we'll work on that some more at another time." he relented and reached for a wooden curio sitting on the desk, "Now, Luke, take a look at this and tell me what you make of it." He held it out and Luke set the cup down, rubbing his hands against his shorts before taking the curio and tuning out the soft, exasperated sigh Layton issued at his 'cleaning'.
"It looks like some kind of puzzle, sir." Luke finally said, fingers already working at moving the pieces on it, "I bet I could solve it if I...." He fell silent then, concentrating on undoing the puzzle bit by bit as the Professor watched him with a gentle smile. It took a few minutes and some mistakes, but the boy finally held out the curio with a laugh, "There! I solved it!" Luke grinned even more broadly when Layton clapped his hands in approval.
"Well done, my boy! Puzzles are my passion, you see, and they make the world a mysterious and beautiful place." the man told him, "As my apprentice, I will teach you how to assist me in my archaeological research, how to be a gentleman of utmost quality, and most of all, how to appreciate a good puzzle. You'll learn critical thinking and gain a sharp eye for puzzles." Luke looked up at him excitedly, his earlier nervousness and fears melting away; he could do this, he could learn to be a solver of puzzles as well!
"Yes, sir!" he chirped brightly and Layton chuckled softly, warmly, tipping his top hat back with a wink.
"Call me Professor, my boy. You are my student now, as well as my apprentice." he remarked, "Shall we get started then? This is my working office; the majority of my puzzles are in my home office." He stood and led Luke to the door. "We'll take my car to my home and we'll begin with a few puzzles to see where your mental strengths lie. Perhaps we can fit in a few gentlemanly lessons as well."
"Right away, Professah!" Luke exclaimed eagerly, bounding after him in better spirits.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Luke shook his head clear of the memories, smiling ruefully at them. After that, he began taking more pride in his apprenticeship with the Professor, and loved his puzzle-solving lessons most of all. Science and math didn't matter as much as they used to, and history became more interesting, now that he knew some of those challenging puzzles and riddles dated back thousands of years. The lessons on gentlemanly duty were something he wasn't as enthused about, but if learning them made the Professor that much happier with him and prouder of him, then he would gladly suffer through the rituals of learning etiquette and manners and all that nonsense. He even struggled to pronounce his title properly, 'Professor' instead of 'Professah' as the effort to say the last syllable seemed to make him beam all the more warmly.
But somewhere along the way, Luke must have failed somehow, and thus the Professor was securing his future elsewhere. Maybe in something involving science of one kind or another, since Penford came traveling through time to follow them for some peculiar reason, trying to prevent an event from happening that shouldn't have happened. Luke puzzled over that for a moment. Perhaps Penford was trying to prevent the termination of his apprenticeship? He would try asking. The young man had finally stopped and sat on a bench, fiddling with his pocket-watch again. Sighing in relief, Luke hurried to join him, waving a hand to gain his attention.
"Penford!" he cried, "I want to talk to you!" And his older self looked up at him in surprise, hands clapping the watch shut again.
~*~*~*~*~*
Hershel sighed in irritation as he flicked blades of grass off his shorts. Flora had already gone with the Professor in search of a powder room and he was left to guard the picnic blanket and basket on his own. This whole day had been a crock in his thinking, and he'd give anything to relieve some tension by going off to play with the Gutter Valley Boys. He scanned the park over quickly to double check on the people around him, making sure none of them were that creepy old man or the creepier young bloke, then leaned back against the tree trunk with another sigh. If only Sir Luke would come back, then they could go somewhere else for a while together, just the two of them, like they used to do. Things were so much nicer in the past, and he didn't have to worry about this pudgy old man calling himself Professor Layton mucking things up and making Sir Luke so sad and bitter all the time.
That's why he was there; to help Sir Luke in his mission and keep him from being so bloody grim and depressed about everything! Hershel folded his arms over his chest in a huff, hair messy from being blown about by the wind since he'd set his little top hat down for the time being. What good was being a Layton if he couldn't do the things he loved and help those he cared about? He'd much rather remain as Hawk-Eye and have all the fun he wanted that way. His gaze dropped to his shoes, a small frown crossing his mouth. But if he did that, then he wouldn't have any chance at making his father proud of him. He wanted to be a great archaeologist, too, so his father would beam at him the same way this future version of himself beamed at Young Luke, so full of pride and love.
Why was it so hard to decide on his future? If he stayed as Hawk-Eye, he would be able to hone his skills and be a force to be feared on the streets of London. But he would eventually lose touch with his mother and father, and Professor Layton, Harold Layton, would never be proud of him. Give up Hawk-Eye to follow his father and he'd eventually become this weak old bloke that could be snuck up on at any time. How embarrassing! Hershel rubbed his hair furiously, trying to choose between the two fates before deciding he'd deal with it later. Now was not the time to worry about his own future; he had to look after Sir Luke and make sure he wasn't attacked by those strange men again!
"Penford's apprentice will save the day!" he declared suddenly, thrusting a finger into the air proudly before sitting back against the tree again, a grin on his face. He would do all he could to help Sir Luke; after all, that was the whole reason why he'd run away from home to begin with.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
He had run to his room as soon as he was let down from his mother's arms. From there, Hershel raced to the window and threw aside the curtains, watching in tears as Sir Luke walked down the driveway, past the fountain that nearly gave the boy another conniption, and then to the front gate. Once he reached it, there was a little burst of light and Hershel could see the young man mount the magic scooter that had appeared, then drive off until he was out of sight.
Sobbing bitterly, the boy turned and threw himself onto his bed, feeling a keen sense of loneliness settle over him. It wasn't fair; he only had his mentor for a week and now he was gone, off to save some other boy. What about him?! Didn't he deserve to be saved too? Saved from this dull and tedious existence of trying so hard to be everything that could make his father proud of him? Sir Luke was a different person from Harold Layton; he seemed to be proud of Hershel no matter what he did, always smiling at him when he thought Hershel wasn't looking. And if he solved a puzzle or remembered a gentlemanly lesson, Sir Luke just about shone as bright as the sun with pride. Why couldn't his own father be like that?
And why couldn't he keep his mentor around so that he could feel more fulfilled, knowing that at least one person besides his mother would be so proud of him when he did something he loved to do? Was that other boy more important?
"He-he wants to save the other one... because they really need his help." Hershel sniffled, sitting up and rubbing his eyes dry of tears, "A gentleman helps those around him who are in need. Because, that's what a gentleman does." And if Sir Luke was going away to help someone, then as a young gentleman-in-training Hershel had to help him too. He slid off the bed, then headed for his satchel, dumping its contents out onto the bed. Of that, he repacked his puzzle book, some paper and a pencil, then began stuffing some clothes into the bag. Just for a couple of days, at least; if he needed more, he was confident that Sir Luke could purchase more for him. He paid for so many other things for him already, surely his mentor was just as wealthy as the Layton Family and only traveled far more modestly than most people in his class!
Hershel took another piece of paper and a fresh pencil, then wrote a short note for his parents, so they wouldn't do anything bothersome like call a constable or a truancy officer to fetch him later. He explained what he was going to do, where he was going, and added that everything would be just fine since he would be with Sir Luke the whole trip. The matter would probably be resolved in a few days and they would be coming back together and everything would be fine. Hershel signed his name and headed off to pull the sheets from his bed, twisting and knotting them up until they were formed into a rudimentary rope ladder. He tied one end to his bedpost, opened the window, and threw the rest out until it hung just above the ground. Satisfied with his preparations, Hershel pulled on his coat, fixed his top hat in place, slung on his satchel, then began descending his makeshift ladder. Those lessons on sneaking out were really paying off!
--
He found Sir Luke entering the alley by the Museum of Science and rushed to catch up, huffing as he held his satchel's strap in place and his hat down on his head. He rounded the corner just as his mentor stood in the alley, his back facing the street.
"I'm coming with you!" Hershel shouted as a surprise greeting, lunging at him to give him a hug, excited to be a part of Sir Luke's rescue mission. He was certainly surprised, spinning around and staring at him like he'd seen a specter of the night. Sir Luke cried something about his watch and traveling through time, Hershel couldn't exactly remember because this strange light seemed to pass over them both and then there was this ungodly painful sensation of something that felt like burning. On his skin and in his body, just this awful, awful burning and he screamed, hanging on tight to Sir Luke's jacket and his mentor had grabbed onto him, crying out too, and then it all blurred and that was that.
~*~*~*~*~*~*
Hershel huffed again, watching his supposed older self returning to the picnic spot with Flora at his side. And that was how he wound up dragged into the future on a mission to help Sir Luke's younger self escape some fate. He just couldn't grasp how that snotty little urchin that fawned over this time period's Professor Layton could possibly become the refined gentleman that was Sir Luke. It was just ridiculous and completely unfair! That Luke boy was nowhere near the same level in skill and gentlemanly behavior as Hershel, and yet that Layton bloke seemed to just adore the little runt. Why couldn't his own father be like that?!
"Not fair." he muttered and took another tart. Sir Luke was acting all out of sorts because of him, too. He used to have all kinds of interesting puzzles and stories and lessons to teach him, and ever since they got to this time and started living with this lot, he'd stopped doing any of that. All his attention went straight to the older man. Hershel had to make do with the Flora girl and the younger Luke for companionship, and he wasn't happy with either one. "Layton." he called once the two of them arrived and settled down again, "If you're an archaeologist and everything, does that mean that Father is proud of us? Since you've become everything he wanted you to be, which is everything I quite dislike, he must be as puffed up as a peacock."
The older man stiffened and gave him an impassive expression, all emotion wiped clean from his face. Hershel lifted an eyebrow, whistling at the action. That was impressive; he could tell a hundred lies with a face like that and earn a fortune in games of bluff and trickery.
"That, my dear boy, is something you are not privileged to know of yet." Layton told him firmly and picked up his cup of tea, "Now put your coat back on and do fix your hair a little; you look like a ruffian, sitting like that and with that air of insolence about you."
"How dare you tell me how to act!" Hershel growled back, "Look at you, all pompous and self-important; you act just like my father and I hate it! You went and gave up who you were to become someone we both despise; a bloody wanker!" He jumped at the abrupt clatter of teacup on saucer, but stayed put, scowling at the stern look coming from the elder man. Flora had covered her ears again, staring with wide shocked eyes at him.
"We do not use that kind of language, young man, especially in front of a lady!" Layton lectured firmly, "I refuse to believe that you would disregard the lessons of your mentor in his absence; I know that Luke wouldn't do the same if I were to be indisposed for any reason." Hershel huffed, shrugging his shoulders indifferently.
"Well, we won't ever know that, then, seeing as how you being the great and noble Professor Layton means you'll always be around to coddle your little urchin. Wonder how he'd be if you up and vanished on him one day?" he questioned and the Professor turned away from him, shaking his head.
"I believe in Luke's ability to continue to be a gentleman whether I am there or not. I know he'll do the proper thing and continue his studies, especially now that I've secured his future." he murmured and his hand went to his pocket, "If something should happen to me, and God forbid that to occur, then I am confident that Luke would press forward with honor and nobility. He would look to the future and hold the memories of the past to treasure the present, because that's what a gentleman should do." Hershel listened to his words, then slowly let a smile spread over his face, eyes closing halfway in a smug expression.
"If you're so confident that he'd move forward and not look back, then what's Sir Luke doing in the past, clinging to you like a lost puppy?" he mused aloud and Layton looked puzzled, truly baffled for the first time that day.
"I have no idea, but it must have something to do with how I am securing his future. Why else would he take such an interest in my work and claim to be called Penford?" he wondered. Flora blinked at him and gasped, batting her eyes rapidly before digging around in her pocket for the handkerchief.
"Professor, may it have something to do with this? Sir Penford seemed to go quite pale when I first showed him this and told him I stitched the initial of his name into it." she remarked, holding up the folded cloth for Layton to examine. Hershel perked up in interest, crawling forward to see for himself as the elder man accepted it and opened it to reveal the blue cap and gold lettering. Both of them took on surprised expressions, looking at one another briefly before returning to gaze at the embroidery.
"It's almost like the Layton Insignia, but with Sir Luke's cap instead of the top hat." Hershel remarked in wonder, "Like his version of the Layton Family symbol. Why would he turn pale at the sight of it? He should be honored to carry this as a sign of employment by the Laytons!" The elder man groaned softly, one hand lifting to cover his eyes.
"My word, this confirms my suspicions." he whispered and suddenly pulled his hand away in alarm, "Where is Luke? And Penford?"
"They haven't come back from their walks." Hershel replied, standing up and brushing himself off, "We'd better find them, before those old blokes decide to pop in and cause trouble." They hurriedly collected their things and packed up the picnic basket before setting off at a brisk pace to find the two Lukes.
~*~*~*~*~*
"...so, I'm not even certain that I'll be with the Professor much longer and all I really want is to be with someone who loves me for me, to be in a family again!" Young Luke finished his rambling in a breathless rush, "So, if it's possible, could you go back a little further in time and find out what happened to our parents, and maybe even save them?" Luke closed his eyes with a sigh and shook his head in the negative. "Eh?! But why?!"
"All events are connected, Luke, like the pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. If you alter any of the pieces, the end picture changes and some pieces even become obsolete." Luke explained cautiously, turning the Time-Binder in his hands as the boy beside him pulled his legs up in dejection, "Or better yet, like the tracks laid down for a train to run on. Each event is a switch and Time is the main line of tracks. When you change an event, you switch a track and history is the train that runs on those tracks, so you alter the course of history when you change an event. Understand?"
"But you're changing things around already, aren't you?" Young Luke pointed out, "I don't see why it would matter if you changed a switch further back on the track." The young man pinched the bridge of his nose, wondering how best to describe things without compromising himself.
"All right, Luke, let's go back to the idea of trains and tracks. Time is the track laid down for history, which is the train, and all the switches that control where the train goes are major historical events. All I've done so far is watch the switches flip from my seat in the train. I'm a passenger on that train, just like you and Hershel and Flora and the Professor." he tried again, speaking slowly and surely, "If anything has changed, it's been something I didn't do myself and the train only picks up speed or slows down because of the alteration of the event. The event still happened but our train only reached the switch to the track earlier or later than scheduled. The switch did not flip the other way.
"If I were to go back to the time our parents lived, and changed the events to allow them to continue living, then a major switch would be turned another way and the train that is our history would run on another line of tracks, with different passengers. It would be you, your mother, and your father. Do you see what is missing now?" Young Luke gasped, staring up at his elder self.
"Where's the Professor and Flora? Where are you and Hershel?" he blurted out worriedly. Luke shrugged.
"You would never meet." he remarked simply, bluntly, "Because you would have your parents, there would be no reason to have you sent to an orphanage, which is where Professor Layton eventually discovered you and made you his apprentice. And being the son of the Penfords, you would be raised to be a scientist like them; you would have no need of archaeology or puzzles, so you would have no reason to seek out the Professor yourself. So you would not be there if and when the Professor rescued Flora." Luke held the Time-Binder up by its fob, watching it spin slowly and sparkle in the sunlight. "And if you never became the Professor's apprentice, then I would have no reason to come from the future, because my only reason to be here is to observe him, and if I don't travel through time, I would never run into Hershel and have him travel with me." he added, "So many other events lost because I changed one event. Do you see how troublesome time travel can be? And how dangerous it is to alter events that should not be changed?"
Young Luke nodded slowly, still looking saddened by that. Luke hesitated a moment, then reached out and pulled him close for an awkward hug, patting him on the shoulder.
"Change one event, and our whole life is changed drastically. And for the life of me I can't decide whether that change is for the better or worse." the boy murmured, leaning into his elder self for support, "Would it be best to alter the past so I can have my family, or leave them to remain dead so I can have these two years I've spent with the Professor and these few months with Flora in our house? Penford, which would you choose?" Luke looked down at him, then up at the rest of the park, uttering a soft, tired sigh.
"Which would I choose, if I were to alter the course of Time and history?" he echoed, "That question is one that is not easily asked, nor easily answered. But it is one that I had asked myself when I first began preparing for this trip." He closed his eyes, thinking back on his last few days in the future before he took the Time-Binder and made the jump with the help of one of his staff members, the researcher who ultimately betrayed him in some way.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The laboratory was deathly silent and dark when Luke and his assistant hurried inside, resisting the urges to flip on the lights and relying on batter-operated torches to make their way to the Temporal Slipstream Device. It had been several months since the devices were completed, tested, and deemed successes, during which there had been a flurry of activity from the Ministry of Defense in setting everything up to act as though his time travel research was a dead end and to disavow any information that cropped up to claim the Queen knew of Luke's research and helped fund the development of time travel technology. So much work was put into hushing all mouths that knew anything about the Time-Binder, the Slipstream Device, or any of the quantum theories Luke had written out that proved time travel was possible that the world in general began to whole-heartedly believe that the stories of London's young Professor investigating the grand puzzle of Time itself were little more than drunk men's rumors.
After all that, Luke's Quantum Lab 4 became England's version of America's Area 51, a non-existent building housing non-existent technology for leaping through time and mucking with the past and future... which was simply perfect for Luke's plans. He had been given audience with the Queen Herself in regards to his technology, and she had told him that for all intents and purposes, his research and his inventions were fruitless efforts and would be written as complete failures, a mark that would smudge his family name but would be publicly cleared by her will once things had settled down in the Ministry of Defense. He accepted those terms. After that had been made clear and the papers were given word to print the story of his wasted research, the Queen summoned him again and Luke was asked to explain what exactly he meant to do with his technology.
"Alter a single event, so London will have its light returned as bright as ever." he had replied seriously, grimly, "The death of Professor Hershel Layton should not have taken place, and it is my sole mission to go into history and change the outcome of that singular day, thus preventing the loss of one of our most brilliant men."
"Your research claims that all events are connected, Professor." the Queen had murmured quietly, gazing at him from her desk in her study, "The death of your mentor is what drove you to become who you are now. If that should change, what would become of you?"
"I would cease to exist, Your Majesty." Luke returned honestly, still kneeling before her in respect, "Without his death, I would have no reason to create the ability to time travel, and thus I, as the quantum engineer, would have no cause to exist. Quite simply, I will be erased from Time." The Queen tilted her head in consideration.
"We would like to ask you, Professor, if this is truly what you wish to do with your life. Given the choice to have Professor Hershel Layton returned in exchange for your life, and leaving history as it is written to continue working for the benefits of your fellow man in his honor, which would you take?" she asked and Luke closed his eyes with a smile.
"Your Majesty, my choice was made when I decided to invest my skills and efforts in creating my technology. Success would mean a better life for us all, and only my life is paid as the price. Failure would mean I was not skilled nor worthy enough to carry his name, and thus my life is forfeit anyway." he replied and finally looked up at the elderly woman, "I plan to travel tonight, with the aid of an assistant to operate the main device and open the gate through Time." The Queen only gazed down at him, silent for a long moment before she finally gave a subtle nod.
"You have our blessing on your endeavor, and may God have mercy on your soul as you make your journey. You will be tampering with His workings, and only by His Grace will you succeed or fail." she told him quietly, "And as you have told us, either way, your life is forfeit. It shall be written that, on this night, Professor Layton passed away, leaving no trace to be found. The estate will be taken in and divided at our discretion."
"As you wish, Your Majesty. Thank you for your blessing." Luke murmured and left once the Queen dismissed him.
--
Straight after that, Luke made his way into the laboratory with one of the scientists, wrinkling his nose at the smell of smoke that surrounded him. He wasn't fond of the smell, but half his staff smoked to relieve stress that was usually caused by his 'punishments' so he couldn't really complain about it. The older man went to the Slipstream Device and began working its control mechanisms, tapping at the keys to bring it to power and get everything operational. Luke made for platform near it, his hand already reaching into his jacket pocket to grab onto the Time-Binder.
"Program the Binder with the data in the file marked as 'Magnum Opus'." he ordered the scientist, "And tell no one that I have done this. Keep the Device running through the night; you will know the sign when I no longer need it active."
"Yes, Professor!" the man declared, eyes on his work as he tapped at keys. Luke scowled at the title as he brought the pocket-watch out and readied himself for the jump. He disliked being called that; after all, he didn't really deserve the title. But he would let it slide this time. Once Luke stepped into the past, none of this would matter anymore.
He would save the one true Professor Layton, or he would die trying. He had already said his goodbyes to his colleagues and employees, and Nazolyn had cried when he admitted that he couldn't continue his relationship with her. His heart simply wasn't in it and he wouldn't be around much longer anyway.
"Which would I choose?" Luke whispered as he gripped the Time-Binder, watching the soft blue light travel from it and over his body, "Here's my answer...."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"I chose my family. The one I've always known; the Professor and Flora." Luke finally answered casually, "And thus here I am, watching over all of you. Simple, really." Young Luke gave him a puzzled look as Layton, Hershel, and Flora hurried up the path to join them.
"There you are!" the Professor exclaimed in relief, "Good heavens, you two, don't leave me to worry like that, especially with two Don Paolos on the loose!" Hershel darted up and leaped into Luke's arms, laughing brightly.
"I spotted you first, Sir Luke! Do I get a prize?" he asked and grinned broadly when his mentor smiled back at him.
"You get a puzzle, Hershel, how's that?" Luke replied and set the boy down, standing up and giving the Professor a glance to check on his condition, "How about a puzzle involving a cat and a mouse?"
"I'm sorry, Professor; I didn't mean to worry you." Young Luke mumbled as he joined his own mentor. Layton settled his hand on the boy's head, giving him a gentle smile.
"It's all right, Luke. Your safety and well-being was foremost in my mind. I just want to keep you and Flora safe." he remarked and his hand went to his pocket again, a vaguely dark expression flitting across his face too quickly to be caught by his apprentice's eyes. It did not go unnoticed by the elder Luke though. "Safety... hmm.... I believe I shall have some work done to the house tomorrow. To have things tidied up and a little safer for us all; I do believe I've held off on it long enough." Flora and Young Luke blinked at him in surprise and the boy seemed to brighten in understanding.
"Oh, you're going to change the locks too? Like Penford said you would?" he asked eagerly and Layton gave the young man a surprised look as he nodded, "Blimey, he really does know all the things that's going to happen! I bet that's one of those event switch things he was talking about!" He cheered and began making his way to the Laytonmobile, challenging Hershel to a race that the other boy quickly accepted, darting after him in a hurry.
"Event switches?" Layton asked of Luke as they walked back at a more leisurely pace, Flora at the elder man's other side, "Would they have anything to do with the hours of your watch, Penford?" The young man gave him a small smile, slipping the Time-Binder back into his pocket.
"You'll just have to solve that puzzle on your own time, Professor." he remarked cryptically, "I merely observe the events; I have no desire to alter them now." Layton lifted an eyebrow at his words.
"But you do intend to alter them later, correct?" he questioned and Luke waved a hand flippantly at the inquiry.
"Oh, just one little change later on in time, Professor! You probably won't even notice it, you'll be far too busy with certain matters." he answered carelessly, "Now let's head back and return that basket, shall we? Mustn't keep Time held up over trivial pursuits when there are grander things in this world to tend to!"
~*~*~*~*~*~*
"And what made you decide to stalk the boy through Time in the first place?" Don Paolo grumbled, turning the silver dagger over in his hand. The elder Don reclined in his chair, fingering the stained pocket-watch he kept on his person at all times. A broad grin broke out on his face at the question.
"Would you believe a note from an alternate future?" he returned and chuckled at the other man's incredulous stare, "I received a letter one day, simply out of the blue, that explained just how valuable that little apprentice could be to us. All I had to do was bide my time until a certain event came to pass, then steal this little watch for my use. I had all the information I needed from that note to enter a special laboratory, get the watch, and jump through time to begin preparing for the next phase."
"And the next phase would be what exactly?" Don Paolo went on, examining the dagger more closely and wondering how much money each of the stones was worth.
"My past self of this time, your future self, would sabotage certain devices to send the boy into a different time, thus allowing me to set up the events that would help shape the future I desire, including the loss of my Bind Rifle, built for this sole purpose." the elder Don replied and traced his fingertip down the scar on his face, "The future I came from, as explained by the note, should not have existed, as the boy took far too long to develop his technology to be of any use. So I saw no reason not to end his life then and there, though he left me this pleasant little reminder that he existed at one point. As it just so happened, the letter also told me that a certain function of this little gadget would only work if it made contact with his DNA, so...." He gestured towards the watch and Don Paolo grimaced in disgust.
"And who exactly sent you this note, detailing a plan to subjugate a brat to us?" he muttered, pulling his eyes from the rust-colored smears to glare at his elder self, who only shrugged in a carefree manner.
"No blooming idea, and I really don't care. All that matters is gaining control of the boy." Maestro replied and narrowed his eyes, gripping the armrests tightly, "He is the last living Penford, after all." Don Paolo nearly dropped the dagger in shock, eyes widening.
"So... you know his identity as well... and of her...." he breathed almost reverently, "Lenora...." Maestro nodded and the younger Don smiled maliciously, gripping the dagger all the more tightly. "Layton foiled my plan to have the boy and earned my undying wrath, but mark my words, I'll have my revenge! All the treasures he seeks, all that he cares for; it will all belong to me!" he declared hotly, shaking a hand into the air as he laughed maniacally. The elder Don only grinned, steepling his fingertips together.
"And quite soon, the Layton line will bow to my command as well." he purred darkly.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*