Disclaimer: Professor Layton is copyright Level5.

Authors notes: Chapter two/the sequel to, Patchwork.

The man's cape had wound up coming with him to the hospital - only once they'd gotten him checked in and laying in a bed had the nurses seen fit to remove Hershel from the cape, which lay folded on a nearby counter.

It was still a mystery to the professor, why Descole had bothered to try and keep his companion warm, especially since, any other time they met up, they wound up at each others throats.

That Descole had felt endebted was the only thing that made sense. Hershel had pushed the man to safety, so in return, Descole had done the same.

"But why leave your cape?" He mused to himself. The cape was a large part of Descole's ensemble, and unless the man possessed multiples, it didn't make sense to leave it behind. It didn't make sense - like everything else in the puzzle that Descole had recently become.

Descole had stayed behind when on any other occasion, he'd have fled. Had removed him from being pinned under rocks when he would have usually taken the opportunity to finish him off. Had wrapped him in his cape because he'd been shivering, when Hershel had thought Descole didn't care nearly enough about his rival to put in an effort to stop it, or even pay attention to such details.

And barely a day ago, he'd been trying to run him through with an antique sword. What on earth had changed?

Maybe… nothing had changed. Maybe Descole just wanted to finish him off himself. Finally build a plot and puzzle that would stump the supposedly unbeatable 'Professor Layton'. It made sense.

Hershel sighed, wishing he could roll over. He should just get some sleep. Perhaps it was nothing more than pride that had compelled the man to remain behind.

o0o

He had been asleep for only a few hours when he awoke to the sound of his door closing. For a moment, he thought it must have been a nurse - but when he looked over to the door, he couldn't help but feel shocked.

"Descole…?" The man froze - hadn't had time to turn around. "What are you doing here?" Hershel found himself turn tense. He could not walk - could not defend himself. It would be a simple matter for Descole to finish him off.

"Well" The man began "As you said before - this is my cape." And snatched the aforementioned item off the counter, putting it on in a single smooth motion.

"It is." Hershel parroted, watching Descole with narrowed, cautious eyes.

"If you'll excuse me." Descole turned to leave.

"Descole, wait." Surprisingly, Descole did. He paused, turned back around to look at the immobile professor before him. "Tell me honestly. Why did you stay? You could have left at any time." Descole frowned.

"I don't have to explain myself to you." And then he left. Hershel had to admit, part of him - the part that was so obsessed with puzzles - was upset that the man had left without giving him any hints, no clues as to the reasoning behind his desision to stay. The puzzle had gone nowhere, and he was no closer to solving it then before.

o0o

Hershel was surprised to wake up two nights later to Descole standing at the door, sometime around midnight.

"Tell me something." Descole began, as soon as it became apparent that the professor had woken up. "Why did you save me?" Hershel thought for a moment.

"Well… I may not be particularly fond of you, Descole" He began "but it would not be very gentlemanly of me to let those I do not like, die." Descole let out a displeased sounding noise.

"That's not the right answer." He said. "That is the answer you want to give me now that we're both free." He took a few steps closer. "I want to know your precise thoughts - what was running through your mind at that moment you saw those stones falling towards me." A few more steps - he was right next to the bed now. "What made you move forwards, into the danger, rather then away from it?" Hershel tensed at his tone - demanding, but very curious.

He didn't understand why Hershel had acted the way he had.

How ironic.

"I…" Hershel started. Unable to find the words. "I honestly… do not know." He just… had. He had, all at once, been determined to not let the man get hurt. Had originally attributed it towards being gentlemanly, but when he thought on it - Descole wouldn't have been killed. The roles would just have been reversed.

"It seems we are at an impasse, then." Descole said. Hershel raised an eyebrow.

"We are?" The masked man nodded.

"Niether of us knows why the other acted in the manner they did." Hershel stared at the ceiling for a few moments.

"I suppose…" He began "that I… did not want you hurt." He narrowed his eyes, continuing to stare at the ceiling. "The rocks began to fall, and I did not want you hurt." Descole was silent, and Hershel didn't bother to look back towards him. The noise of the door opening, then closing, told him all he needed to know.

He wondered if the man would return.

o0o

An entire week later, Descole finally made another nighttime appearance. It had been disorienting, waking up to see Descole, sitting in a chair next to the bed. Watching him.

The man's cape was once again draped over him.

"…Was I shivering?" He couldn't help himself. Descole chuckled.

"If you must know" He said "I wanted to know… what you would…" He slowly trailed off. Hershel looked at him curiously.

"Wanted to know what?" Silence. For the longest time, silence.

"I wanted to know what you would look like if you wore a cape. Or any fancy clothes, actually." He smirked. "Really, Layton, do you ever wear anything formal?" Was Descole mocking him…? Hershel found himself returning the smirk.

"I have, in fact." Descole let out a laugh of disbelief.

"Really?" The bedridden professor nodded.

"In Monte D'or. I vividly recall attending a dance with Luke and Emmy. I wore a white tuxedo, with matching hat." It had taken the two hours to convince him to part with the hat Claire had given him - even if only for that small amount of time.

"You know, Descole…" Hershel started. "You never did tell me why you stayed. The entrance was not blocked." For some reason, part of him regretted bringing the question up. They had been laughing. Acting like friends.

For once, they had not been enemies. And each time Hershel brought the query up - Descole would leave.

Descole's reaction had not changed.

o0o

Descole was gone for less time than he had before. Four days later, Hershel awoke to the man's midnight presense again. He was leaning against a wall, not far from the door.

"…Do you know why I leave each time you ask me why I stayed behind, in the cave?" His voice was light, and he sounded as though he was deep in thought. Hershel nodded.

"I'm worried that I am somehow offending you." He said. "that my curiosity angers you." Descole shook his head.

"I leave, because I can't answer you." Hershel blinked.

"You… can't?" The man shook his head.

"It bothers me to the point of rage." He said, grimacing. "You managed to come up with an answer in a few moments. I, however, still can't think of a response after nearly two weeks." Descole clenched his hands into fists, getting visibly angry.

"Don't let it bother you so much, Descole. You-" But Descole cut him off.

"And then there's you!" Though angry, Descole seemed aware enough of his being in a hospital to remain quiet. "Who are you?!" Hershel froze. In an instant, was terrified that Descole had lost his memory entirely. But then he continued, and Hershel let out the silent breath he'd been holding. "What is it about you that makes me come back here, Layton? We're enemies. Every other time we've met, we've been behind swords."

"…Does it have to be something complex, Descole?" Hershel found himself saying. "What if it's something simple? Something you don't see?"

"Something… simple?" Descole repeated. Hershel nodded, and for a brief moment, he though that the masked man would finally come up with an answer - the realization on his face said he'd finally discovered something.

But then it shifted to horror. Descole looked horrified, and tore out of the room without so much as a sound.

Hershel was certain this time that Descole would not return.

o0o

The weeks passed, and eventually Hershel settled with the fact that perhaps Descole was gone for good. He wasn't certain what it was that Descole had realized that had made him so upset, but he hoped it hadn't been his fault.

'Bedridden' turned to physical therapy, and soon after that Hershel had put Descole out of his mind altogether. It wouldn't do to worry about a man that he'd likely never see again.

For some reason, though, that idea - that he'd never see Descole again - made him distinctly upset.

o0o

It had appeared in his room the day he'd been cleared for release from the hospital - a small, inconspicuous package. Hershell had initially assumed it to be a gift from one of the several people that had visited him over his long visit to the hospital - but according to the nurses, nobody had dropped off such a package.

The nurses had been justifiably nervous about it - but Hershel knew at once who it was from.

After all, there was one visitor that the nurses had never seen.

"Descole, what on earth are you thinking…?" He muttered, smiling as he gently opened the box up. "What did you reali - Oh." There was a rose.

Sitting atop the large, thick fabric that took up most of the box, was a rose. And a note.

'I still want to see you wear one'.

Hershel laughed.

Descole had given him a cape.

And he had a sneaking suspision he knew what the rose was supposed to signify.