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January 2015
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the synchronicity highway [userpic]
Mystery Room fanfiction

A 1sentence fill I did:

A Lifetime Ago
Fandom: Layton Brothers: The Mystery Room
Contains: Justin/Alfendi, Hilda/Alfendi, angst, drama.
Warnings: mild sexual content, mild gore, some violence, Mystery Room spoilers.
Summary: Fifty moments in the lives of Alfendi, Justin and Hilda.


Al cursed loudly as his legs were knocked out from beneath him, bullets whizzing dangerously close above, while Justin breathed a sigh of relief that the suspect's aim was not nearly as good as his own.


The pickles she filched from the sandwich made a wet smacking noise as they hit the bottom of the wastebin and the sound warmed her heart a little while she listened to Alfendi grouse about how late lunch was today.


The photo Hilda had of herself and Al looked like it was taken a lifetime ago with the two of them looking painfully young at twenty-five and hopelessly unaware of the upcoming violent upheaval both of their lives would endure.


"Goodbye, Justin."


"You're not Alfendi Layton."


Those gentle golden colored eyes full of peace made her want to scream until her throat tore itself apart.


In her entire career, no confession had shaken her as much as the one that she heard when Alfendi Layton finally opened his eyes.


Al spat out endless accusations about how this was all his useless partner's fault between dry heaves over the toilet while Justin tuned him out mostly, rubbed soothing circles into his bony back, and hoped that he'd feel better soon.


God damn Justin and his infernally freakish ability to stay up late with him, devour an incredible amount of his pizza, smoke like a chimney and still have the nerve to get up early and ask him to work out together because apparently wheezing a little after running up four flights of stairs meant that he was the one with a desperate and immediate need to get into shape.


When he met the scowling redhead for the first time, he didn't expect that he himself would become the cause of so much misery in the young man's life.


Hilda kissed his mouth hard, biting down, and felt a warm shock at seeing the hot light in his yellow eyes.


She held Al's unmoving hand tightly in a brightly lit hospital room and told herself that things would be okay.


"I don't understand, Hilda. I'm Al."


"Please wake up."


He groaned a little at the feel of Justin's strong hands tightly gripping his hips, marveled at the surprisingly enjoyable sense of vulnerability it gave him, and then threatened a very specific violent homicide if he ever stopped what he was doing.


Hilda's and Al's bickering across the room brought a tight smile to his lips as he reminded himself again that duty sometimes required terrible sacrifice.


The dying rays of sunset lit up Al's messy hair like a sort of deranged bloodthirsty angel, Justin absentmindedly observed as he watched his partner verbally berate another suspect until they were close to tears.


He found it a bit odd that the more he complained about Justin and Hilda, the more his father was convinced, and very pleased judging from his warm tones, that they made him happy.


Justin's cigarettes and Hilda's perfume tended to mix together into a most flagrant violation of the senses so it caught him by surprise when he started associating the scent with something that reminded him of being home.


In retrospect, telling Al that he really was a lot cuter when he didn't talk was probably not the best idea he had ever come up with.


He pressed his fingers into Justin's face until the skin broke and his fingertips slid into the bloody punctures and then woke up and wondered why he would ever dream of hurting his old partner.


She angrily kissed him once, mid-rant, and was more than a little pleased to see him sputter into silence and flush a very fetching shade of red.


The jolt of fear and protectiveness he felt, when he saw Keelan's monster holding a pistol to Al's head, didn't surprise him as much as he thought it would.


It was unfortunate but the reality of it was that Al's life was worth less than the bloodsoaked affair he had committed himself to.


Al smiled sweetly at him, newspapers rustling from the white coat hanging off his narrow shoulders, and Justin told himself that this was for the best.


"I'm sorry, Al."


She buried her heart deep in the dark under work and duty and hoped that time would eventually let her look at what remained of it again.


Alfendi decided that while Justin was a meaty sort of simpleton that was utterly hopeless at matching his own impressive intellect, he was reliable and loyal, and all things considered, he was fortunate to have a man like him as his partner.


He was awake and safe and alive and all she felt was grief.


He dreamt of bone thin fingers squeezing his throat and golden eyes full of rage, pain, and betrayal.


It was honestly a little terrifying that the book had worked so well, although not exactly in the way he had expected.


Justin looked into his calm eyes and imagined that Al was still somewhere in there because his partner was more of the type to go down kicking and screaming, and then get up again to threaten your mortality with a sneer, than anyone who would ever just roll over and die so easily.


Her Alfendi was never so passive, never so placid and never so horribly passionless that it made her skin crawl to be around him.


Al drunkenly slurred out a surprisingly bawdy song while he held her tightly and swayed to the sound of the radio and Justin's snores.


Justin instinctively shoved his arm out to stop Al from slamming into the steering wheel, at the sudden brake, and then grinned as his partner immediately stuck his head out of the car window to start yelling.


Standing next to Justin, at Forbodium Castle, he pressed fingertips into his viciously pounding head and learned about all the lies that resided in his mind.


She held the smoothly ticking heirloom in her hands and thought about late nights, red hair, and laughter and a part of her life when she thought she had all the time in the world to live, love, and be happy.


The thought of upending the entire tea kettle on his narcissistic, self-serving, stubborn head had crossed her mind more than a few times in the last hour.


"You're not me! You're not me! You're not me!"


"What did you do to me, Justin?"


They were exhausted, covered in sand and more than a little white paint, so Justin just closed his eyes as Al tiredly leaned against him while muttering darkly about the Met not properly covering suit cleaning costs.


While Alfendi Layton had a number of very positive characteristics and attributes, she lamented that "egotistical maniac" was usually at the top of her list when asked to describe him.


The first time he saw Al's empty eyes it made him feel something he never wanted to ever again.


Al's eyes rolled back in his head while his mouth made the sweetest involuntary noises he had ever heard so Justin braced his hand on the wall and moved his hips again.


The smell of Hilda's perfume reminded him of white flowers and rain and there was an odd sort of contrast between the peacefulness of that and the woman in front of him angrily listing all of his so-called faults.


No matter what she had lost, no matter what she could never get back, she refused to give up because that would mean that she would have nothing left, and that wasn't something Hilda Pertinax was prepared to deal with.


"You killed her to save me."


Rain quickly mixed with the blood pouring out of his partner's chest and the sight made him sick as the full gravity of what he could and couldn't do weighed down on him.


Something hot and burning coiled lazily in his belly as he thought of Justin's murderous hands awash with crimson life, stained with something that could never really ever be washed off, and he bared his teeth in a smile because it wasn't an entirely unpleasant feeling.


"Hilda. Justin. Thank you for always taking such good care of my son. Alfendi is strong. He always has been. He'll pull through, you'll see."