Chapter Text
It was too fucking quiet in the house. Unnaturally quiet - like Lucy wasn’t in there at all. She was though. She wouldn’t have left without us.
George and I walked around the house quietly, trying to listen for her - listen for anything.
“Do you hear anything?” George asked. I shook my head no.
“How do we know which way she went?”
“We don’t.”
George then opened a door and birds came flying out, scaring the shit out of both of us.
Ghosts? No big deal. Birds? Fucking horrifying.
If Lucy heard it, she didn’t make any noise to acknowledge us. Something about that set my teeth on edge.
We continued walking around for what felt like an hour, though I’m sure it was only minutes, when something broke the silence. Something loud. It sounded like a huge gust of wind followed by a bang.
“Lucy?”
“Let’s go!” And I took off in a run in the direction we heard the bang. I instinctively put my hand on the hilt of the rapier ready for a fight. I didn’t know what we were up against but instinctively, I knew Lucy was in trouble.
I should’ve never let her go into this fucking house by herself. But there would be time to berate myself later. Now, we needed to rescue Lucy.
We ran through the labyrinthian house looking for any sign of Lucy or what could’ve made the crash. Where WAS she?
“Lucy! Where are you?” I yelled.
George, on my heels echoed me: “Lucy, answer us!”
A few seconds later, I heard it. It was the most beautiful sound I’d ever heard in my life: a very muffled “George!” coming from… somewhere.
She was alive, but panicking. Lucy didn’t panic.
Fuck fuck fuck
Pounding, followed by “Lockwood, please! Lockwood! George!” and then I heard a noise that made my blood run cold - ghost screams.
No no no!
“Lucy!” I screamed. She was here, in this room, somewhere. I could almost feel her.
Then I saw it and knew where she was. There was a trapdoor that had recently had most of the dust displaced.
“George, it’s some kind of trapdoor,” I said, trying to keep calm. I knew I needed to keep calm for Lucy’s sake.
I ran over, knelt next to it, and began trying to pull it up, knowing somewhere in the back of my mind that if she couldn’t get it opened from banging on her side then I wouldn’t be able to pry it open from mine. But at that moment, with only an inch separating us, logic had flown out the window.
I vaguely registered George behind me saying not to force it but I could barely hear him over the blood rushing in my ears and the sound of Lucy’s panic.
“Lucy, we’re here. We’re coming.” Please hang on. Please don’t leave me.
“You knew!” What? Who was Lucy talking to? Knew what?
Fuck this. I stood up and began kicking the door open. All my brain could process was Lucy, Lucy, Lucy.
Behind me, George yelled, “Lockwood! Lockwood I think this is it.”
That was enough to snap me out of it. I could still hear Lucy yelling but some rational part of my brain knew that if George had found the switch, we’d get her out quicker.
“You try that one.” I’m not sure which one of us got it, but I heard it click open and immediately bolted for the door.
“Lucy, we’re coming!”
And then she was there, ghosts hot on her heels as George and I pulled her out of it.
I burned the ghosts to make sure they’d never come near Lucy again and we all ran out of there.
We were safe.
Well, not safe, but we were out and I’d never been so grateful to be outside, at night, in London.
Once we were outside and leaning against the wall, I couldn’t stop looking at her.
“What the hell happened back there?”
“He was a monster,” Lucy replied, panting.
That wasn’t really what I was asking, but now wasn’t the time to push. Lucy looked small in a way I’d never seen before. Her breathing was shaky and I could tell she wasn’t ok.
It was at that moment it occurred to me just how fucking close I came to losing her. I couldn’t lose her. I instinctively knew I wouldn’t survive if anything happened to her.
I needed to know she was alive. Before I knew it, I was switching my torch to my other hand.
“Hey,” I said gently as I ran my hand down Lucy’s arm and grabbed her hand, squeezing it. I’d never been a touchy person - at least not since my family died. It seemed too close, too intimate, too… loving and I’m not really sure if I was comforting her or myself, but I truly didn’t care. I just needed to feel her warm and alive in my hand.
“Hey it’s ok, we’ve got you now.” I’ve got you now.
She wasn’t pulling away from me but I know she noticed my hand because she was squeezing me back just as tightly. I honestly didn’t know what I’d do if she shrugged me off or moved to get away.
I’d let her, of course, but I didn’t know if my heart could take it after the last hour of roller coaster emotions.
George shot me a look. He looked uncomfortable, like he wasn’t sure if he should be there or not. I was grateful for his silence though.
“You’re safe now, ok? You’re with us.” With me.
“That’s the last time you go and do a job on your own.” Don’t you understand how much you scared me? “I don’t care what the skull says. We’re your team. Not him.”
George, ever pragmatic but honestly looking like he hated to intrude, asked the reasonable question: “Did you find anything?”
“Yeah.” Of course she did. That’s my girl.
WAIT my girl? Oh no. Oh no oh no oh no this is bad. But I tucked that thought away for much, MUCH later.
“You’re incredible.” George said and we all let out a chuckle.
He had no idea.
And if we held hands the entire way back to 35 Portland Row, well, it was merely for comfort... of course.