Layton Drownout 2020

Five Times Hershel Layton Had Dolly Mix By Himself (And One Time He Shared It)

Summary: It's a rare treat when Professor Hershel Layton gets to enjoy his favourite sweets, and when he does, he remembers that moment for the rest of his life.

Hershel interlaced his fingers between his thighs, swinging his legs around under the chair and unable to even think about reaching the floor.

"You don't have to be afraid, darling!" His mother stroked his hair. "It'll only be a couple of jabs and then we can go back home."

The five-year-old whined quietly to himself.

"I don't know," he squeaked. "Why can't we go home now?"

"I'm sorry, Hershel," said Mum. "I know you're scared, but I promise it won't take long at all! And the doctor will give you a lollipop for being such a brave little boy!"

Hershel's eyes wandered downward with another whine. There were toys and cardboard picture books sitting in a heap in the corner of the waiting room, stacked around a big pink and blue plastic doll house, but he didn't want to go anywhere near them. He didn't even want to be here, in this strange-smelling room full of people he didn't know.

"Can't we do this tomorrow?" he pleaded. "I want to go home! I don't want a lollipop!"

Mum rubbed his back. It wasn't much, but it helped him feel just a little bit better.

"Then how about this?" she said. "After we're finished here, we can stop at the sweet shop on the way home and I'll let you choose whatever you like."

The mere mention of 'sweet shop' made Hershel's jaw drop in wonder.

"Anything?!" he gasped.

"Anything you like," said Mum, "and maybe we can pick out something for Dad too, as a surprise!"

Hershel swung his little legs again.

It was true that he didn't like the idea of a man he didn't know sticking a needle into his body, but if it meant he could get whatever sweets he wanted...

...and Mum had said it wouldn't take long...

"...okay," he said softly. "I think we should get pear drops for Dad. Those are his favourites."

"You know us both so well already!" Mum laughed.

And then his name was called, and he hopped off the chair as his mother stood up and took his hand.

She led him into a white and blue room that smelled even stranger than the waiting room, and he didn't recognise the man in the white coat and wool jumper at all, but he gave Hershel a kind smile and ruffled his hair. Hershel sat in Mum's lap and screwed his eyes shut as the first needle came out, holding one of her hands as she pulled up his trouser leg.

The jab was sudden and painful. Hershel squeaked in pain and fear.

Then another jab. He knew it was only a needle, but it felt like a knife.

And then he felt something sticky being stuck to his leg and heard Mum calling him a brave, clever little boy. It was over. Thank goodness.

His leg was sore when he tried to rest his weight on it, but as he'd already said, he refused a lollipop. Lollipops like those always made his tongue feel strange.

He held onto Mum's hand as tight as he could as she led him out of the office and back into the waiting room, and then he had to stand and wait as she did something with the receptionist.

He hated having to wait. His leg still hurt. He wanted to go home.

...but if they went home, they couldn't stop at the sweet shop...