Chapter Text
I'm so glad you made time to see me
How's life? Tell me, how's your family?
I haven't seen them in a while
I knew deep down that I could’ve sung back to my soulmate at any time, but to be honest, I wouldn’t have known who I was singing for: them, or Lockwood. The time apart from him had only made my feelings towards him even muddier. It only became clearer as I began to sing that this one was directed towards Lockwood. I hoped my soulmate wouldn’t mind. After all, he had been singing to another person all this time, too.
You've been good, busier than ever
We small talk, work and the weather
Your guard is up and I know why
Because the last time you saw me
Is still burned in the back of your mind
You gave me roses and I left them there to die
The last time I had seen Lockwood, he had refused to speak to me when I got back from our disastrous cafe trip, and dinner that night was an awkward affair. It was a stark difference from how he had acted at the cafe in the beginning, making me promises we both knew he couldn’t keep. “I could fire Holly,” he tried at first, and I just shook my head. “I’ll make you an equal partner in the agency,” Lockwood said later, more desperately. “ Lockwood & Carlyle has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?”
I repeated myself for what felt like the millionth time. “No, Lockwood, I can’t. It’s for your own good.” At this point, I was trying not to cry, and I couldn’t see Lockwood that well as he finally got up in a huff and walked out the door, his coat billowing behind him. He didn’t make eye contact with me once after that, and while I had hoped to make a more… diplomatic exit from the agency, I found myself slipping out of the townhouse well past curfew so as to not run into him, or worse, George. Where Lockwood had been silent at dinner, George had made his thoughts known to us all, and he only stopped yelling at me once it became clear that I wouldn’t respond.
So this is me swallowin' my pride
Standin' in front of you sayin' I'm sorry for that night
And I go back to December all the time
It turns out freedom ain't nothin' but missin' you
I always imagined what I’d say to Lockwood if/when I ever saw him again. I knew, realistically, that we’d run into each other at some point; London might be big, but we still ran in the same circles. Would I apologise right away, or would Lockwood cut me off and say something first? Would he apologise? Did he even have anything to apologise for?
When I left the agency, I told myself that I would finally be able to make my own decisions for once. I’d be able to decide what cases I’d go on instead of Lockwood or Holly scheduling them for me. I’d be able to break the damned biscuit rule. I enjoyed these new freedoms at first, especially because I had never lived alone, but now I was just feeling lonely.
These days, I haven't been sleepin'
Stayin' up playin' back myself leavin'
When your birthday passed and I didn't call
Lockwood’s birthday had been a couple weeks ago. Unlike Christmas, Lockwood wasn’t too keen on celebrating his birthday, which George had warned me about one night while Lockwood was out on a case alone. I had gotten him a garishly pink tie as a joke for his last birthday, and he unsurprisingly didn’t wear it as much as his Christmas one. Still, a part of me felt guilty for not acknowledging this birthday.
And then the cold came, the dark days
When fear crept into my mind
You gave me all your love and all I gave you was goodbye
The fear of losing Lockwood was still there, even though I was the one who left in the first place. He had tried so hard to get me to stay, even with his frankly stupid and unrealistic suggestions, and I still left like the stubborn little girl I was.
So this is me swallowin' my pride
Standin' in front of you sayin' I'm sorry for that night
And I go back to December all the time
It turns out freedom ain't nothin' but missin' you
Wishin' I'd realized what I had when you were mine
How I wished I could go back to that horrid afternoon in the cafe and tell my past self to just listen to Lockwood, to not let him leave me there like that. If Lockwood would have stayed and kept trying…well, he was known for his charm. I would’ve eventually broken down and agreed to stay, at least at 35 Portland Row if not with the agency, too.
And how you held me in your arms that September night
The first time you ever saw me cry
Lockwood saw me cry once, when I got a strongly-worded letter from my mum after I registered with Lockwood & Co. She wasn’t mad that I had left, but rather that she was no longer entitled to my paycheck as I had registered independently. That letter was one of the reasons why I ended up returning to London earlier than planned when I went up to visit my sisters. Mum had expected me to cough up half of whatever I had made with Lockwood & Co, and I told her to get fucked.
I mean, it wasn’t like I was getting a regular paycheck from Lockwood, and when he did pay me, it was usually in cash, but Mum was nothing if not unreasonable.
I'd go back in time and change it, but I can't
So if the chain is on your door, I understand
I really would go back in time and do everything over if I could. I’d go to Lockwood & Co as soon as I arrived in London, I would’ve inquired more into that damned skull jar, and I would have never let Lockwood risk his life for me as often as he did.
And I probably never would have left in the first place.
But this is me swallowin' my pride
Standin' in front of you sayin' I'm sorry for that night
I'd go back to December, turn around and change my own mind
I go back to December all the time
The song ended and I collapsed into tears. It had been ages since I had sung anything, and the emotions hit me like a freight train. I really, really missed Lockwood. And I had really, really missed singing to my soulmate.
Skull was making weird faces at me again, but I ignored him, knowing that I’d only get a headache if I moved the lever now. He’d just have to sit there and act as my demented night light until I worked up the patience to hear his grating voice in my consciousness.
My tears eventually ran out, and I got up to make myself some tea and eat one of the leftover crab rangoon. The sun had fully set by now, and the only illumination outside was from the ghost-lamps on every street corner. I didn’t have any cases tonight, so I resigned myself to a quiet night in.
I had just started to get into some cheap romance paperback I had picked up for two quid at a charity shop when I heard a knock on my door. Frowning, I made my way over. I wasn’t expecting anyone, and curfew had already started. Who was here?
I opened the door, and there was Lockwood, a bit out of breath after climbing three flights of stairs, but wearing a dopey grin and the tie I had gotten him last Christmas. “Luce!” he said, his eyes bright, “you figured it out! Not a very festive choice, but hey, I understand.”
I frowned. “Figured out what? What the hell are you doing here, Lockwood? How’d you even get my address?”
His face fell. It only occurred to me then that maybe, just maybe, we had been singing to each other all along.