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It was tough being an archaeology professor.
When Hershel Layton had boarded the train to Folsense with Luke, he hadn’t expected for them to both be tied up in a molding, rusting cellar just less than 24 hours later. The accommodations were unpleasant at best, and sitting on the cement floor for so long was beginning to make his limbs feel numb. To make matters worse, their captor was none other than a vampire.
But that was just par for the course for True English Gentleman Hershel J. Layton.
Luke had already been taken from the cellar to be eaten, but Layton wasn’t pressed about it.
Now, Hershel Layton was a worrying man by nature. If there were a competition for such a thing, the Professor would surely win. So, let me tell you why this situation was so different.
Luke Triton was a clever boy. Layton had no doubt that the young apprentice was well equipped for whatever adventures they would encounter, as he had proven time and time again. However, that in itself would not quell the worries of his apprentice’s wellbeing in the hands of the blood-hungry Anton. Under no circumstances would Layton be able to sit in this cellar when he knew his boy was in such danger. Still, Layton was not worried.
No, the professor wasn’t worried because he knew this Anton wasn’t real at all.
In fact, the entirety of Folsense was an illusion.
You see, it all happened 50 years prior, in the prosperous mines of Folsense. Unbeknownst to the miners, they hit a vein of hallucinogenic gas while digging for gold. The gas made those who breathed it extremely susceptible to mental suggestions of all types.
In truth, neither the Folsense they had seen nor its residents really existed. This was all a creation of their minds.
Luke, he was sure, was perfectly safe. The boy was probably still sleeping in the guest room upstairs. Layton would go check himself, if only he could escape these ropes…Hallucination or not, he sure was stuck in them.
Left alone with his thoughts, Layton’s mind began to drift. A list of responsibilities piled in his head; grading papers, organizing his desk (ha!), and he still needed to write back to Phoenix, too.
Phoenix, for all the man was an antonym to Layton, was someone the Professor couldn’t help but admire. His skills in court were astounding, and his will was stronger than anyone Layton had ever met. And he’d be lying if he said the man wasn’t rather attractive. If only the lawyer would realize his feelings for him…
“H-Hershel?!”
Speak of the devil and he shall appear, or whatever, because when Layton lifted his gaze, before him stood none other than the defense attorney himself.
The attorney was looking worse for wear–his eyes were tired, as if he had just escaped airport customs. He wore a charming gas mask that could only be from whatever the Japanifornia equivalent of Hot Topic is, and his jacket and shirt were ripped to reveal his very real abs beneath.
Phoenix, despite this, was truly a sight for sore eyes. He could only gape at the cellar and the man before him.
“Phoenix,” Hershel greeted.
“What are you doing here?! Why– why are you tied up?” Phoenix sprung into action, ducking to Layton’s side and freeing him from the rope. Of course , Layton thought, intellectual as ever. Under the influence of the gas, it wouldn’t be far-fetched for his thoughts about his crush to accumulate into a hallucination of him. Oh dear, he couldn’t even daydream about the man in peace.
“Ah, it’s a long story.” If Luke were still here, he’d probably be asking why the Professor was even humoring a hallucination. Luke, for all the experience he had gained on their adventures together, still had much to learn.
“A True English Gentleman is always polite to the voices, Luke.”
“What?”
“Sorry, don’t mind me. Just a little good English humor. I could ask the same of you, what are you doing all the way in England? Erm, not that I’m not pleased to see you.”
“Oh, Maya was accused of murder again. You know how it is.” Phoenix answered plainly like it was just a regular occurrence. Which it kind of was at this point, but that was neither here nor there.
Phoenix helped Hershel to his feet. “Okay, um. Let’s get out of here while we can. Speaking of— Where’s Luke?”
—-
“Nick, you have to believe me, I didn’t cause that gas leak!”
The single detention room light painted Maya’s face in an uncanny pallor. Even through the film of the glass, Phoenix could see her eyes blotched in red. A gas leak, of all things his assistant could be accused of, and they only had 3 days before the court date…
Well, just another day for Ace Attorney Phoenix J. Wright.
“Folsense… Hm. I’ve never heard of that city before.” Phoenix scrolled through a wikipedia article of the apparently infamous ghost town, bored. He was growing all too used to this set up. Maya sitting in the detention center was hardly a shock; she was practically a regular here! So forgive him if he skips the dramatics this time around.
“Don’t worry, Maya.” He said, after another quick Google search, “Tickets to the UK are cheap right now. I’ll find evidence to prove your innocence and be back before you can say, ‘hamburger’!”
“Hamburger,” Maya deadpanned. Her face was still red from crying. Ugh, what a party pooper, that Maya. Like that wasn’t obviously a figure of speech.
Phoenix coughed. “Er, how did they even accuse you of this anyways? You’re not even 20. This happened 50 years ago.”
Maya perked up at that, all too eager to gossip about her situation. “Oh, I’m not supposed to tell you, since my good buddy Earl back there could get in huge trouble if anyone finds out he leaked it to me…” She paused for dramatic effect, “But
apparently
‘I’m a spirit medium who’s actually a 50 year old woman channeling a 17 year old girl as a disguise!”
What.
“What?”
“Right?! And– and– get this. They say that since I’m so old I’m really good at it and can keep it up for a long time, and this ‘17 year old girl spirit’ is in on the crime and willing to keep up the ruse.”
Phoenix opened his mouth to respond, but found himself lost for words. So instead he swallowed, and nodded, and turned to leave.
“If I want to get to Folsense in time, I need to get to the airport now.” He offered, so Maya wasn’t left in the dark.
“Don’t crash!”
“Wish me luck,”
He was gonna need it.
—-
The flight to London was uneventful, if a little lonely. It was all too similar to the first time he’d visited the country, on that exchange with Maya. Now, he was on his own, with only hours to find proof for Maya’s innocence…. Phoenix wished he could have called Hershel to tell him he was coming, but he was already cutting it too close to the trial date with this investigation. Too much was riding on his investigation to worry about his… relationship troubles.
By some grace of god, Phoenix had even convinced Edgeworth into playing Maya’s defense attorney, in case things went awry and he couldn’t get back in time. Though, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t miss the weight of his flashy attorney badge on his collar. There went all of his proof of authority… Oh well. Sometimes great sacrifices were needed in the name of justice.
Phoenix stepped off the platform to see a group of unfamiliar detectives standing around the entrance of the town.
Well, mostly unfamiliar.
“Hey, Gumshoe!” Phoenix called out, feelings of misbelief and urgency showing through his voice. What the hell was Gumshoe doing all the way over here? Well, Phoenix wasn’t complaining; at least it was a familiar face.
“Oi! Who’s fackin’ up me name?” The Gumshoe looking man turned around and revealed that he was definitely not Gumshoe. He looked almost exactly the same though- like if Gumshoe had a mustache, a British accent, and an eyepatch. And was extremely pissed off. “I’ve told you lot a million times, it’s Shoegum!”
Phoenix stared in abject horror. “I-I’m sorry sir, I mistook you for someone else I know.”
“And who might ye’ be?” The man said, sounding less and less British and more and more like a Pirates of the Caribbean LARPer by the minute.
“I’m Phoenix J. Wright, a defense attorney from Los Angeles here to investigate a case.” If only he had his badge to show off. Would that even apply here?
“You American attorneys, always investigating… Barging in, not taking no for an answer…” Shoegum shook his head, exhaling a rolling sigh that sounded like the weight of the world rested on his shoulders in that very moment. “Right then, if you’re goin’ in, you’ll need this.”
Phoenix stared skeptically at the mask that had been handed to him.
“People start hallucinating in there, mine fumes and all. Don’t get too touchy with any evidence.”
“Yes, of course.” Phoenix said, eager to put on the gas mask and escape conversation with this man. “Thanks for your help, then.”
Phoenix could have sworn he heard Shoegum mutter something about Those American Attorney Weasels , but before he had half the mind to be offended, the sights of Folsense were before him. Phoenix said a prayer and stepped into town.
He would prove Maya innocent, or succumb to the gas trying.
—-
For once in his life, Layton wasn’t sure what to do.
If he was hallucinating such a vivid image of his crush, surely the effects of the gas were beginning to get to him. On the other hand…
Since this was a hallucination, it was the perfect opportunity to practice his love confession to Phoenix. What other chance would he get to do it in person without risking anything at all?
“Wait, wait. Take a step back for a second, Hershel. What makes you think I'm a hallucination?”
Oh, did he say that aloud? The gas must have been affecting him more than he thought.
“You see, it all happened 50 years prior, in the prosperous mines of Folsense. Unbeknownst to the miners, they hit a vein of hallucinogenic gas while digging for gold. The gas made those who breathed it extremely susceptible to mental suggestions of all types.”
“In truth, neither the Folsense we see before us nor its residents really exist. This is all a creation of our minds. Or, er. My mind, since I seem to have created you as well.”
“On that note… Well, I suppose it’s best to be right out with it. I need to tell you something important. I’m in love with you, Phoenix Wright. Hm, no, that’s not quite right… Phoenix Wright, I’m in love with you. No, maybe the first one is better. I don’t want to appear curt, either…”
—--
Holy shit. Professor Hershel Layton was zonked out of his brains.
Phoenix stood, speechless, at the sight before him. Hershel, oblivious to his shock, only continued his ramblings.
“Wait– wait, Hershel, stop!” Phoenix shouted, abruptly coming to his senses, “This isn’t right. The gas is clearly getting to you…” He wasn’t sure what compelled him, but before he knew it he was caressing Layton’s hands in his own.“We need to get you and Luke out of here first. W-We’ll talk about this later.”
“But…” Hershel stared down at their entwined hands, “You’re just a creation of my mind.”
“Objection! I’m not a hallucination, I’m real!”
—-
But if this Phoenix wasn’t a hallucination…
“Oh, oh dear me.” Said Layton, who just now processed the fact that he had incidentally confessed to his real and not hallucinative crush.
Said crush was staring into his eyes fiercely, and Layton couldn’t help the feeling he had ruined everything they had built in that moment.
“Please excuse me, Ph— erm, Mr. Wright. How terribly unprofessional of me. I would never presume—”
Soft lips met the Professor’s own before he could finish his frantic apologies. Layton leaned into the kiss, eyes fluttering shut.
Too soon, they pulled apart. The events of the past several hours reeled in Layton’s mind, and then it dawned on him.
“But if you’re not a hallucination, then Anton…”
Layton and Phoenix pulled apart, slow sinking terror morphing their expressions.
“We need to find Luke.”
—-
“Care to join my crawfish boil? Authentic from Louisiana!” Anton chimed, gayly.
The castle kitchen was…. Worse for wear. Between crumbling bricks and such, Phoenix wasn’t sure how the building was still standing. Luke, in true perilous Triton fashion, was dramatically dangling over a boiling pot of water.
“Professah HELP!” The boy in question pleaded.
“Luke is not a crawfish!” Layton said firmly. A True Gentleman defended his pseudo-adopted son from being boiled Louisiana style.
“Righto. Let’s settle this with our blades.”
“Very well-” Hershel began to shift to a dueling stance, but Phoenix placed a hand in front of him.
“No, Hershel, let me. You’re in no shape to fight right now.”
They locked gazes–immovable force versus unstoppable object type beat–until Layton sighed.
“...Very well. I will put my trust in you once more. Please, take my sword.” He passed that flimsy fucking fencing sword off to Phoenix.
The fight was insane. Phoenix had virtually no experience in swordsmanship, but it made him completely unpredictable and Anton had no idea what the hell Phoenix was doing. The old man never stood a chance.
“Well, that’s over with…” Phoenix helped Luke safely down to the ground. The boy was alarmingly unbothered about nearly being boiled alive, but eh. British people, right?
“I will always come back.” Anton rose from his collapsed state, striking fast and true. He fell moments later, but the damage had been done.
“Oh.” Phoenix said, watching the blood stain the abdomen of his ripped suit. His knees collapsed beneath him.
“Phoenix!” Layton said, dropping to his side immediately.
“Professah! Mr. Wright is dying.”
“He’s going to be just fine, my boy–” Layton’s hands dropped to cover the wound. Phoenix met his gaze. He wished he could wipe the concern from his face in that moment–really, it was just a small stab wound, he didn’t need to worry for him. “Just– just keep looking at me, Phoenix.”
Phoenix had so much he needed to say to Hershel. Assurances, mostly—of his well being, their relationship…. But the more he lay there on the kitchen floor of Herzen Castle, the more his thoughts began to dim.
“Hershel, I…” His vision swam, and then all he knew was black.
—-
Phoenix imagined death so much it felt more like a memory. He just didn’t expect it to be in Layton’s arms. The last thing he remembered was looking up at his love, regretting all the time they had lost by not confessing their true feelings sooner. At least they could have that one, final moment together.
At least, he thought it was one final moment until he woke up in a hospital room. Now this has happened twice. Thinking he was dead and gone, only to wake up in a hospital room. Hopefully near death experiences wouldn’t be a common thing for him like Maya’s murder accusations were for her.
“Phoenix!” Layton gasped. “You’re awake!” He noticed the professor was holding his hand, likely while he was still unconscious. aww
“Hershel, what happened..? I-I thought-”
“The… timing was nothing short of miraculous. See, a group of detectives investigating the mines just so happened to enter the castle just after you fainted. They saw to it that Anton was arrested and called an ambulance.” His voice wavered, “You… we’re lucky you’re alive.”
“So then… all that, in the castle. About your confession…” The unspoken question did not fall deaf on Layton’s ears.
“Yes, it was all true. I still mean all of it, if you’ll have me–”
“Of course Hershel, I love you too.”
First kisses were overrated, in Phoenix’s opinion. And when his lips met Layton’s for the second time, it only confirmed his belief. Maybe, just like this—Phoenix could hope—things would only get better from here on out.
Maybe, they could step into this better tomorrow together.
—-
Later that evening, Phoenix’s phone began ringing. Edgeworth, the temporary defense attorney, was calling. He had nearly forgotten about Maya’s whole ordeal back in the States.
“Hey man, how’s it going? I’ll be heading back soon. So much has happened here-”
“Maya has been sentenced to three life sentences without possibility of parole.”