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Story Title: A Covered Flame - Part Seven
Rating: T
Genre: Drama
Series: Professor Layton
Pairing(s): Dimitri/Claire, former Layton/Claire
Character(s): Claire Foley, Dimitri Allen, Hershel Layton, Bill Hawks, Inspector Chelmey, etc.
Summary: Dimitri finally reaches the breaking point about being constantly compared to Layton and with his departure Claire receives word from the one man she never expected to see again.
Notes: Well, this is the chapter that makes everything worth it for me. I worked so hard to bring it to this and we’re almost done. Just one more chapter to go.

Time went on and more mysteries were solved.

That was the shorthand version of it. The longer version was that Dimitri continued to receive messages from the ghosts and travelled to different places to perform tasks for them. These tasks were much smaller than the first two adventures Layton had led them on, but nevertheless were beginning to feel extremely taxing. People were beginning to know the faces of ‘Alan and Celeste’. If he had been in his right mind then Dimitri would have been worried that their continued activities might cause them to be traced back to their true identities, but at the moment he was too exhausted to care.

Claire wasn’t about to make things any easier on him, either.

“I talked to Katia the other day,” she started.

“That’s nice,” muttered Dimitri.

“She’s still sure that you could hear the same voices that she could,” Claire went on.

“Well I can’t, as I’ve told you before,” he replied.

“I don’t want to call you a liar-“

“Then don’t.”

Claire sighed, continuing, “But life has gone a little… weird lately. I follow you to all of these strange places because I trust you, but you’ve got to admit that this did all come out of nowhere. It would… make sense if there was someone else giving you advice. I have heard you mumbling to yourself.” That last part was added to stop Dimitri from dismissing her so easily.

“What do you want me to say, that I’m hearing voices?” Dimitri asked her.

She knew that she shouldn’t, she really did, but to get him to talk Claire fell back on the one excuse that Dimitri always listened to:

“Hershel would have told me what was going on.”

This time that was the wrong thing to say.

“Yes, maybe he would have done,” Dimitri snapped, glaring at her, “Because Hershel is this perfect god of a man who no one else could ever compare to!”

“N-no, I just meant-“

“I know what you meant! You do that all the time,” he growled, “I put everything into caring for you! Took in a daughter because you wanted one, travelled to some castle to sort out someone else’s family crisis because you said it would be a good idea. I do everything you tell me to, even though you never bother to see how I feel about these things, because I want you to be happy. But it always, always comes back to Hershel!”

“I love him, what do you expect?” she snapped right back.

He replied, “I expect you to respect me enough to not use him as an excuse to get me to tell you things!”

“Well you aren’t going to tell me what’s going on otherwise!” Claire retorted.

He walked past her, sounding calmer but no less unhinged as he answered, “I want to protect you, Claire. And always have done. That’s why I pulled you away from your house when the police were coming after us and that’s why I’m not telling you what’s going on now.”

“You don’t need to, I can look after myself,” she murmured.

“Yes, maybe I was wrong. Maybe I should just leave you to look after yourself. I’m sure you’ll do a good enough job of it,” Dimitri concluded.

She could hear his footsteps heading away from her.

“You can’t just leave!” she called, trembling, “What about Flora?”

The door shut behind him. For all intents and purposes Flora had been Claire’s decision and was now Claire’s problem. She screamed out in rage, hoping that he heard it, before storming up to her room. Like an angry child, she threw herself onto the bed and sobbed violently into the pillow.

Though she had been out at school during that conversation, upon returning Flora noticed the lack of Dimitri and that Claire seemed to have shut herself away in her room and decided that it would be best to avoid talking to Claire for now. She managed with some difficulty to make herself something to eat then went to her own room to weather the potential coming storm between her adopted parents.

It was hours later before Claire had cried herself into an uneasy sleep. She’d lost all concept of time but didn’t care. All she could think of was how angry she had been at Dimitri, which had eventually dissolved into the fear of how she was going to handle things here without him or even if someone might somehow manage to track her down as being Claire. He had been the one who always worried about that sort of thing… And then those nerves of these worries had eventually sent her off to sleep.

“I need to talk to Claire,” Layton informed Clive.

“But she can’t hear you,” Clive reminded.

“She will be able to now, I’m almost certain of it,” he said, “But… I’d like to do this alone, if that’s all right with you.”

“Very well, good luck, Mr. Layton,” Clive said, backing out of the room.

Once the boy was gone, Layton made his way over to the bed where Claire lay, clutching at the blankets in her sleep. He wasn’t as sure about this as he would have liked to have been, but gave it a try. Leaning forward, he whispered into her dreams.

“Claire…? It’s me, Hershel…”

“Hershel…?” Claire mouthed, drawing him into her dream, “Oh Hershel… I’m so glad… so glad you came…”

“Yes, we have a lot to discuss,” he agreed, unsure how he was managing to keep his business-head on while walking towards the dream-like figure of the lady he’d been unable to talk to for all this time.

“I’ve missed you…” she said, but did not run over to hug him.

He chuckled slightly, “But I’ve been here all this time.”

“You have…?”

“Yes, I’ve been the one telling Dimitri where to go and what to do,” he confessed.

“I knew it…! I knew he was hiding something from me,” she muttered, but then a second thought hit her, “But then… why did you talk to him but not to me?”

“Trust me, I did try,” Layton promised her, “But there are only certain people who I’ve been able to talk to and before now you weren’t among them.”

“Then why now?” Claire pressed.

“I have a theory,” Layton informed, “Over looking at the sorts of people I have been able to talk to I believe that those who can contact ghosts can do so because of distress they feel with their lives and those who are at peace with their existence have no need to hear voices from those who don’t belong to that world. It sounds vague, I know, but the people who have heard me thus far are Dimitri, Bruno and Katia. In Bruno’s case he lived with the constant worry of being a human who has to solely care for a young girl amongst a village of robots. And with Katia she was obviously very worried about the broken state of her family. To test this, I tried talking to her again sometime after she had been reunited with her grandfather but found that I couldn’t, because she is happy with her life now.”

Trying to take all of this in, Claire replied, “But then… I should have been able to hear you. Because I live with the constant distress of not having you with me anymore…”

Layton looked at her, eyes shining with a sort of sadness that she’d never seen from him before.

“But you aren’t, Claire. You are comfortable with your life…” he whispered.

“How could you say that? If you’ve been watching all this time then you know that I pine for you everyday!” she gasped.

“I know that you do,” he agreed, “But… it is only on the surface. I hate to say this, I really do, but under it all you felt comfortable with your life. Perhaps… it wouldn’t have been exactly what you wanted, but you were cared for and had a home. It took Dimitri leaving to distress you enough for me to be able to talk to you…”

Claire wiped a tear from her eye; she did not want to be hearing this from him.

“But I love you…” she whispered.

“I know,” Layton assured her, “You don’t have to stop loving me to be happy without me…”

“I don’t want to be without you!” she shouted, “I want you to be back here with me and my daughter and Di- …and… and…”

“Dimitri,” Layton finished, “Don’t doubt that I would if I could. However, I’m dead, Claire. There is no way I can ever come back to the world of the living. What I want, is to know that you are safe and loved.”

“No one loves me like you do…” whimpered Claire.

“Somehow I rather think the man who’s done everything for you since the moment I left would disagree,” Layton debated.

“That’s different, I don’t love Dimitri,” she replied.

“Do you not?”

There was a moment in which Layton looked at Claire and she stared back across at him. His expression was sad, but controlled. Claire on the other hand, when forced to bluntly confront her feelings, found that she couldn’t keep her emotions in check so easily.

She ran over to him, burying her head into his chest and wailing loudly.

“I do, Hershel…! I do love him… But now he’s gone and you’re gone… and I’m all alone,” she cried.

Putting his arms around her, Layton soothed, “It’s not too late, there’s still time to set everything right…”

Pulling away, Claire looked up at him, wiping her tears and saying, “Tell me what I have to do.”

“Are you sure?” he checked.

“You’ve had Dimitri running around after you all this time and now it’s my turn. So tell me how I can fix all of this,” Claire confirmed.

He nodded, replying, “That’s very noble of you. And I feel it’s only fair to let you know that… when this is over you will probably never see me again.”

“Seeing you even this once is more than I deserved,” Claire answered, reaching out to stroke his face.

“You’ve always been a very understanding woman, Claire, and I… sorry, we, are lucky that you are,” Layton said, “Now you must listen carefully. I need you to go back to the sight of the explosion. There is evidence there that should clear both of your names.”

The two talked for a while longer, but now it was strictly about business. There were no sweet nothings or tales of what might have been, just the detailed instructions of what needed to be done. It was vital everything went according to Layton’s plans and happened quickly or it might all fall apart.

Once they were finished, Layton awkwardly commented, “You’re going to wake up soon.”

“I know,” Claire answered, “Before I do though, there’s something that has been bothering me. You’re not wearing your hat, Hershel. And I did buy it especially for you.”

“About that,” Layton chuckled, “I was rather hoping you could pick it up for me.”

“Of course,” she said.

Claire reached out to hug him. They held onto one another until the dawn of consciousness began to drag her away. It felt… like a friendly hug. But more than anything, if felt conclusive and right.

It was time for her to move on and fix her life.

Getting out of bed and cleaning herself up, Claire went to fetch her daughter. They had a busy day ahead of themselves, after all.

Far away, in London, Prime Minister Bill Hawks was about to receive some information that could very well be the highlight of his career.

“What is it, Inspector?” Bill growled, hoping that whatever reason Chelmey had for disturbing his peace was worth it.

“You’re not going to believe this,” Chelmey muttered, “But there’s a… well, this guy has handed himself over to us. Says his name is Dimitri Allen. Says that name should mean something to you.”

“Dimitri!” Bill launched out of his chair, gasping, “Are you absolutely sure it’s him?”

“That’s what he’s told me,” Chelmey answered.

“You should be able to tell, man,” spat Bill, “New officers are always shown pictures of him and his accomplice upon entering the force.”

“I’m hardly a new officer, Prime Minister,” Chelmey replied, a little offended.

Tugging on Chelmey’s coat, Barton whispered, “B-but I am, sir. A-and I knew that I recognised the face of that guy and his friend from somewhere.”

“Stop babbling and lead me to him,” Bill snapped.

“Of course, sir,” Chelmey replied.

They took Bill to the cell that Dimitri was being contained in. There was a sense of unease between him and Barton. They wouldn’t go as far as to say they knew this man very well, as up until today they had thought his name was Alan Staghngun, but he had helped them with several cases by this point. It felt very wrong that he was being presented to their own Prime Minister as a criminal.

“Well, look what the cat dragged in,” Bill laughed, “And I really do mean dragged. The years have not been kind to you, Dimitri.”

“I could well say the same about you…” Dimitri murmured, though his heart was not in it. He stared up at his former colleague through blank eyes.

“Hah! I am the Prime Minister! The ruler of fair England! And what are you now?” grumbled Bill.

“…Through with this game. I’m ready to give myself up, Bill. There’s nothing to fight for anymore…” Dimitri answered.

“As happy that I am about you finally confessing to your crimes, part of me wonders why you’d do it after so long. I certainly wasn’t anywhere near finding whatever hole you were hiding in,” Bill commented.

“…Claire is gone,” Dimitri said, “There’s no point in me keeping this up without someone to protect.”

“Dead? Is that what you mean to say? Very well then, I’ll have you put on trial for all those horrible crimes you committed later today and I expect that you don’t have any ideas about lying to defend yourself, do you?” threatened Bill.

There was no answer from Dimitri, but Chelmey did cut in, “It’s unusual to give a suspect a trial so soon after finding him.”

“Do not question my orders!” Bill roared, “I want that man brought before a judge before the day is through.”

“Very well, Prime Minister!” Chelmey replied, saluting as Bill walked out. The two officers then made to follow him.

Before leaving, Barton whispered into the cell, “I’m sorry to hear about what happened to Celeste, she seemed like a nice person…”

And then they were gone, leaving Dimitri alone in his cell until the proceedings began. He knew that he wouldn’t have to wait long, Bill would want to get this done before there was any risk of the lies he’d woven being undone by someone who had been there during the incident. Imagine that, little Bill with his gruff manner and impatience who had murdered many had now gone on to become the most important man in the country. The world was a funny place like that.

None of that mattered, however. What mattered to Dimitri was that he went on trial and was arrested for what had happened, making sure there was no doubt in anyone’s mind that Claire was dead. Even if they did doubt him, they couldn’t prove that what he was saying wasn’t true. If the last thing he could do to help Claire was free her from the chains that tied her to that incident then that would be what he would do.

He didn’t try to check if Layton’s ghost was around as he was dragged from the cell to be put on stand. Because he wanted to help Claire through his own means for once, not the instructions of someone else.

In contrast to the dim cell, the courtroom was bright and noisy. Somehow Bill seemed to have gathered quite an audience in such a short space of time. The explosion might have been hushed over, but Bill never could stop people whispering between the cracks. So many wanted to know the truth of what had happened on that day.

“We are gathered here for the trial of Mr. Dimitri Allen,” started a stern-looking old judge, “How do you plead?”

“Guilty,” Dimitri answered.

“But he can’t be,” called one of the lawyers, whom Dimitri assumed had been assigned to him by the court. The man had spiky black hair and an honest face. Dimitri pitied him. “I’m sorry, your honour, but none of this adds up.”

“If you feel there are holes in this story then, by all means, share them with us,” the Judge replied.

The attorney gave it his best effort, Dimitri handed that to him. There were so many faults with Bill’s accusations on account of it all being fabricated, but the Prime Minister had been provided with years to come up with answers to these flaws and managed to cut the lawyer off at every angle. Not helping was the fact that Dimitri wanted to be convicted and was therefore not cooperating with the defence at all.

“That’s everything,” the lawyer sighed, after a while, “This still all seems very wrong to me but I don’t have anything left to present, your honour.”

“Well then, if that is truly all I am left with no choice but to declare the defendant-“

“Hold it!” called a voice from the door.

Everyone turned to see a red-haired woman, clutching a very beaten top hat and being followed by a young girl, standing there.

The judge started, “Madam, who do you think-“

“This just keeps getting better and better,” Bill cut him off, “Claire Foley! She doesn’t look very dead to me, Dimitri!”

Dimitri looked over at her from the stand, eyes wide in pure horror.

“Claire! Why did you come here? I did all of this so that you’d have a chance!” he cried out.

“I know that,” Claire said, smiling, “And I thank you for that. But I think these people want to know the truth about what happened back then.” She held forward the hat she’d been carrying.

“Looks like it’s just a hat that’s seen better days to me,” commented the judge.

But Bill knew what it was, roaring, “It is nothing! Remove it and this woman from this court!”

“I’m afraid we can’t do that, sir,” said Inspector Chelmey, who had walked in after Claire, “Because like it or not she’s a suspect and is therefore involved in this trial. The evidence she’s brought with her has been… revealing to say the least.”

“Let’s hear what the woman has to say then,” the judge said, much to Bill’s dismay.

Taking a stand, Claire began, “I’d like to thank Inspector Chelmey for being present with me throughout this little investigation. Without him and his men I’d have never been able to get the evidence I needed to bring you all what you need to hear.” She could see Chelmey trying not to meet Bill’s accusing eyes before she went on. “This top hat was found at the laboratory where the explosion took place. A lab that has been cut off from everyone except the police since that incident. And I can tell you that it belonged to one of the victims, Hershel Layton, because I gave it to him as a present on the day of the explosion.”

There was some noise from the audience, as Chelmey confirmed, “We had it tested before we came. There were traces of hairs on it that matched those of Layton’s.”

“What does it matter?” Bill argued, “No one doubts that Layton was there during the explosion.”

“What matters is what else we found on that hat,” Chelmey replied, “Because your story has always been that Dimitri and Claire forced both Layton and yourself to take part in your experiment, but that the two of them fled from the crime scene, leaving you there in your injured state to take the blame. But when we checked this hat over we only found evidence of yours and Layton’s DNA on it, not Dimitri or Claire’s.”

“They just didn’t touch the hat!” countered Bill.

“We had thought of that, it’s true,” agreed Chelmey, “So we had Claire here testify about her location at the time of the explosion.”

“I told him that I’d been visiting a friend, namely Dimitri, when it happened,” Claire continued, “And that was when we came across an unexpected piece of evidence. I’d made a call to Hershel’s house that night trying to find him after the explosion. With some difficulty and cooperation from the phone service, the Inspector managed to trace back that call all these years later to confirm my location. Why would I have been calling him if I knew where he was? How could I have gotten out so quickly if I was there?”

“You… you… wanted to make an alibi…” Bill stammered, but his argument was weak, “…You wanted to hide what you did…”

“Hershel was my boyfriend! I had no need or want to ever harm him!” Claire shouted, “The only one who’s been making up stories here is you, Bill! You are hiding what you did all those years ago when you tricked an innocent man into getting into an unstable machine that you thought would lead you to fame and fortunate!”

“No! Nooooo! You can’t!” Bill screamed, and then he pointed a finger at the judge, “Erased it from the record! Erase everything she’s said from the record! I’ll pay you any amount of money, just arrest that woman!”

“I’m afraid we do not accept bribes here, Prime Minister,” the judge answered, “Her testimony, combined with your reaction, are conclusive enough evidence for me make my decision. There are still many holes that need to be answered during your court proceeding at a later date, but for now I can safely find the defendant, Dimitri Allen, not guilty!”

There was a cheer from those who knew them, from Flora, Chelmey and Barton, as well as from people like Katia and Lady Dahlia who had come to watch. It was a small cheer compared to the mass confusion from the rest of the court, but for all it mattered it might have been the loudest cheer in the world.

Claire ran over to where Dimitri was standing, looking lost, at the stand.

“You’re free! We did it, we cleared our names!” she cried, hugging him tightly.

“H-how did you…?” he stuttered, not knowing if it was appropriate to hug her back or not.

She looked up at him, quietly confirming, “Hershel told me. He told me everything about what happened and what you’ve done and… and why you kept it from me. I’m sorry, I really am.”

“You have no reason to be sorry,” he whispered, “You didn’t-“

“If you’re going to dare say it then I’ll cut you off right now,” Claire scolded, “You did not kill Hershel. The man who did is being taken away to be put on trial like he deserves. And I’m… sorry that you’ve lived with the pain of me accusing you for all these years…”

“It was… no problem,” Dimitri lied.

“It was though. You did everything for me even though I could only compare you to Hershel and… and I want you back,” she said, tears creeping into the corners of her eyes, “…I never realised until you were gone just how much I need you to be there. Please come back…”

“Of course I’ll come back,” he soothed, only just noticing now that he was crying himself, “Flora is like a daughter to me and you’re… well, you’re…”

He was no good with this. Not like Hershel. Hershel always knew exactly the right thing to say to a girl. But maybe… she liked being able to take control of Dimitri’s bumbling uncertainty. And Claire promised herself that would be the last comparison between the two of them that she’d make.

Reaching up, Claire kissed him deeply. She could tell he was nervous, even with her eyes shut, but that soon melted into how natural this seemed to feel. All the years of being awkward and not knowing how to act around each other disappeared in one single moment, when both of them realised what it was that they wanted. This felt right.

They pulled away, holding each other and trying to ignore the whistle from someone in the audience.

“Well it’s about time,” Chelmey commented.

“B-but, wh-what about… Um, y-you already have a boyfriend…” Dimitri stammered.

“My boyfriend past away ten years ago and I know that he wants me to be happy,” Claire answered, “Being with you makes me happy. Be realistic, Dimitri, we live together and raise a child together. If you’d be willing to… to try, I’d like to go the full distance and b-be your… well, your girlfriend.”

There was no need to answer that. He knew that he would devote every moment of his life to making her happy, that she was the only one who he’d ever loved and he wanted, so much, to be with her.

“There could be no greater honour, nor anything that I want more,” he whispered, watching her giggle at how dorky that sounded.

This time, it was Dimitri who leaned in to kiss her.

And the crowd, even those who had no idea about any of this, cheered and whistled loudly for them. An audience loves a happy ending, after all.

Only Flora, amidst the noise, looked around to wonder where that top hat had gone. She was sure that Claire had put it down on the stand, but now it was no where to be seen. Oh well, she reasoned to herself, it probably wasn’t very important anyway.

The hat returned from its battered, dead state to looking as new as it had done on the day he’d received it once it was held in Layton’s hand. It had past on, served its purpose and now belonged to the spiritual world like he did. Could a hat die? For once, Layton didn’t care about the answer, he just wanted his hat.

“It suits you,” Clive said, looking up at him.

“Thank you,” said Layton, adjusting it on his head, “Now come along, Clive, we still have much to do.”

And leaving them with his blessings, Hershel Layton disappeared from the lives of Dimitri and Claire for good. Even if he wanted to, he could not have said goodbye and he knew that. For neither of them were distressed anymore.

…They had both found true happiness.