A/N When Professor Layton appeared at Luke's door, his world changed and it sparked an everlasting relationship.
Luke never had a father. He didn't know why, but he just grew up and never asked. He would sit in his plastic blue tree house, and he would dream. He would wonder, he would paint a picture in his head of his father, what he might be like, and he wished upon stars every night that this image would be true, that his father would suddenly walk through the door, sweeping him up in his arms. He never did though.
His mother was young when she had Luke and wasn't really quite sure what to do with him. He'd be better off with a family that were more experienced, more loving, but Luke just thought it was normal to be neglected. He never knew any different. His mother was one of *those* types, a somewhat provocative party animal – forgetting Luke to go parade, prowl the poor alleys of gloomy London.
Within the small amount of years Luke had been alive, he had learnt to blend in. Wearing his raggy, blue pajamas in his plastic blue tree house. If you haven't guessed, Luke loved blue, as he knew it wouldn't let him down. His only true childhood friend (even though inanimate) was blue. Blue the bear. Even though this stuffed bear was filthy and raggy, he would comfort him, as Luke knew that Blue wouldn't leave him as everyone else had.
As usual 'his mum' would slur the same words. Luke had gotten tired of this melancholy routine. She would say 'Be back soon, hun, tea's out on the side.' Then she would leave, coming back at 4-6am.
This time – she never did though.