AN: Hello, my lovelies!

So, if you're here, this means you must have read my fic Visions. This, Spirits, is indeed the sequel for Visions and if you have not read Visions than I highly suggest you go and do so, cause otherwise this fic isn't exactly going to make much sense.

I hope you enjoy this story! :)

Disclaimer: Just as it was for Visions, this is a piece of fanwork and I do not claim ownership for Professor Layton, any games, storylines, plots or characters mentioned in this fic are not owned by me, but Level-5.


Spirits

Chapter One

Professor Layton was not unfamiliar with death. His best friend had died (no matter whether he came back or not, for many years the Professor believed him to be dead) when he was seventeen. His girlfriend had died just over ten years ago. And now, his daughter had died.

He felt empty as he sat at his desk in his home study. His top hat sat in front of him and he stared at it as if he didn't feel deserving of wearing such a chivalrous accessory. He'd let many down and it seemed that he never learnt. He'd let go of Randall, he didn't save from her Claire and now, he'd let a third person slip away. So much for third time lucky.

Sadly, he sighed and stood up. He was a logical and intelligent man and he knew really that he was not to blame. Radiation had killed its founder and would kill whoever came into contact with it. There had been no hope the day Flora was born in St Mystere, just as there had been no hope for her Mother and Father. It was devastating that Flora had died and the Professor couldn't think of a single thing that he would not do to change her perilous fate, but there was no such thing he- could do. He had been forced accept that fact twice with Claire's death. He wasn't going to let himself fall into any false hope again.

As the Professor made his way out of his home study and downstairs to make a pot of tea, he noted the darkness outside and saw that the time on the grandfather clock in the living room read half past eleven as he made his way through into the kitchen.

"Professor?"

The Professor, who was just about to walk through the kitchen doorway, jumped at the sound of the voice. He turned to see Luke sitting down on the sofa and was rather surprised. The Professor had been so deep in his own thoughts that he appeared to be lacking the observational trait that he normally carried and not noticed the teenage boy sitting there.

"Luke?" The Professor said. "What are you doing down here?"

"I-I couldn't sleep, Professor," Luke, who had gone up to bed two hours ago, replied.

"Hmm," The Professor nodded, before walking over and sitting beside his apprentice. "Would you like to talk about it?"

"It's just... It's hard to believe," Luke stuttered. "I just can't believe she's gone, Professor."

A week had passed since Flora's death and the Professor and Luke were still grief-stricken. Today had been her funeral and it had been the first funeral that Luke Triton had ever attended. He'd found the service unnerving and this of course made the day even more harder than it already was. The Professor and Luke's parents had both explained to him what the day would consist of, but Luke still found himself to be frustrated and upset.

What made it worse was that Flora's funeral had a rather big turn out. Normally, this would be considered a very good thing and family and close friends would feel more content knowing that their deceased was loved by many, but in this case Luke had felt that none of the people who attended knew Flora at all. Dean Delmona, of Gressenheller University had turned up, as had Rosa the cleaner, and several of the other Professors at the University who had met Flora when she came to meet the Professor at his office. The Head Mistress and another teacher at Flora's school had also attended, as had two students from Flora's class at school, whose names the Professor could vaguely remember Flora mention meeting up with on a couple of Saturday afternoons, but Luke had never heard of them- he thought he could remember them introducing themselves as Joanna and Tilly.

In addition, no one at the funeral seemed to be as upset as Luke did. Who were these people who dared to say that they would miss Flora and her "kindness, warmth and happiness" when they didn't shed a single tear? Luke's parents had told him the day before the funeral that today was the best day to cry over what had happened to Flora. And so he had. He'd noticed his Mother shed a tear and dab at her eyes at the handkerchief as she was buried, but that was it. The Professor hadn't cried, but Luke could understand that, because he knew that the Professor would never make a scene. However, Luke definitely had seen the sadness in his eyes and had known that the Professor had cried many times in the privacy of his own home. All the others who came to the funeral, he didn't believe were really sad; or at the very least, weren't as sad as they should have been.

The Professor understood this and it reminded him of the loss of his own best friend. The Professor was not always able to relate or understand Luke, however this time he could and he was very glad of that fact. He sat down beside him on the sofa.

"I know, Luke," the Professor said in a soft tone. "I find it hard to believe, too."

"I don't understand it, Professor," Luke shook his head as a few tears fell down his cheeks. The lump in his throat made his voice wobble. "H-how can she be here one day and not the next?"

It wasn't that Luke didn't understand death. He was a smart boy and older than his height made him appear to be. He understood the science. He understood how the brain stopped working. He understood how the heart stopped beating. He understood how all the organs stopped and the body stopped functioning. He understood how a person stopped hearing, seeing, feeling and thinking. What he didn't understand was how it had happened to Flora.

The Professor sighed, taking a moment to consider how to approach this.

"I feel the same way, Luke," The Professor began to say exactly what he wished someone had told him. "It feels rather unfair, doesn't it? It feels like someone's trying to punish you. I can promise you, though Luke, that that's not the case. You do know that, don't you?"

Luke let out a snivel, before he gave one nod of his head.

"Good," The Professor smiled. "Now, I know it's... Hard at the moment. It's hard to miss someone. It's especially hard to miss someone when you know that they're not coming back. And I'm sorry about how harsh death is Luke, because you truly don't deserve to have to deal with it. Flora didn't deserve what happened to her, either, and that can make it a bit harder for us to come to terms with it, but we will. We'll never forget her, of course. We'll think of her everyday. It's our job to honour Flora's memory. After all, we knew her best, didn't we?"

"Yes, Professor..." Luke said before rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands to dry the tears.

Noting the dark circles under Luke's eyes, the Professor could saw that Luke was tired. It was late after all and the Professor wouldn't have been surprised if he were to hear that Luke hadn't been sleeping well recently. Grief could do a lot to a person and he knew that all too well.

"Now, it's late," The Professor noted. "Why don't you go to bed? We can talk more in the morning. Some sleep will do you good."

"M'kay, Professor," Luke mumbled; his tiredness even clear in his voice. The young boy stood up and made his way to the bottom of the staircase, ready to go upstairs, to bed. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight, my boy," the Professor bidded. "Oh, and Luke."

"Yes, Professor?" Luke said, turning by the doorway in between the living room and downstairs hallway.

"This will all get better with time. That, I can promise you," The Professor told him with a small smile.

Luke, for the first time in a week, smiled back.

"Thanks, Professor."

With that, Luke went upstairs to bed and the night moved along swiftly. The Professor did what he'd gone downstairs to do in the first place and made a pot of tea. He hadn't even finished drinking the cup when he fell asleep. He, too, needed rest. And so, the Professor of archaeology slept deeply, with his top hat still on his head and his tea going cold beside him, completely unaware of the sound of someone creeping in through the window on the floor above.


AN: And that is the first chapter of Spirits complete! I hope you guys are enjoying it so far and are looking forward to more- let me know if you are in the review section, and if you're not, then still feel free to let me know! :)

Nikki~