Chapter Text
THE TRUTH COMES OUT: FITTES AND ROTWELL BEHIND THE PROBLEM
Last week, the celebratory opening of the Fittes building in Ealing took a startling turn when Penelope Fittes and benefactor Sir Rupert Gale were attacked in the agency’s industrial furnace centre. Ms. Fittes was pronounced dead at the scene, and Sir Gale was arrested. This came as quite a shock, particularly when the attackers, the members of the Lockwood & Co Psychical Agency, were released without incident. However, it has since been revealed that there was perhaps more to the beloved Penelope Fittes and her family than met the eye.
Although the Fittes family has been lauded for their support in protecting the public against the threat of The Problem, new evidence has come to light suggesting that they may have, in fact, been the ones causing The Problem. A series of ‘portals’ have been uncovered by DEPRAC, led by Inspector Montagu Barnes, in the lower levels of multiple Fittes Agency locations, the most recent of which being located in the newly-opened Ealing complex…
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In the immediate aftermath, Barnes finds himself sitting at Lucy’s bedside.
She’s in the hospital, being treated for the burns she got from falling into the furnace. They cleaned and bandaged the worst of it before Barnes was allowed in, but it still hurts him to see.
It isn’t the first time Lucy has been hurt on the job–their work is often dangerous, and it would be unreasonable to think she would always be safe–but those injuries had all been relatively minor.
This will leave a scar forever, and maybe not just on Lucy’s skin.
She’d fallen asleep after, exhausted from the fight. She’d told him he could go home too, but he had planted himself in the chair by her bed and stayed, watching her breathe.
He’s still doing so, a while later, when there’s a tentative knock on the door, and two young boys poke their heads in.
Lockwood and Karim look about two steps from passing out themselves, but their eyes betray their worry for Lucy. He hadn’t anticipated it–Lucy, for as often as she worked with other agents, never really seemed to connect with them–but they bonded with her during her investigation, and, regardless of his own personal feelings (which are certainly less negative now than they were a month ago), they deserve to know that she’s okay.
Barnes gestures them in, and they stumble into the room, leaning heavily on each other and holding hands tightly, as if they were afraid of what might happen if they were to let go.
That’s surprising too, but maybe not as surprising as the fact that, upon rounding the side of the bed, they both reach for Lucy as well. They can’t hold her hand, since it’s covered in bandages, but George puts a hand on her leg, and Lockwood a hand on her head, gently brushing her hair out of her face.
Lucy, in all the time that Barnes has known her, has never let herself lean on anyone for help. Although she accepted his job offer easily enough that first night, the next year was spent slowly coaxing her like a feral cat, trying to show that he could be trusted.
They got there eventually, certainly, but it took time.
It may be a testament to the healing Lucy has done, but he’s still surprised to see how close she’s become with the boys in only a month.
It makes him a little misty-eyed, something he definitely doesn’t want them to see, so he quietly excuses himself and wanders down the hall in search of a cup of terrible, watery coffee. He takes his time, since Lucy is asleep and, if she wakes, she won’t be alone, but eventually he can’t keep away any longer, needing to check on her and see again that she’s alright.
She is.
He stands outside the room, watching through the open door.
He’s been gone long enough that Lucy has woken up, and she’s speaking quietly to George and Lockwood. In the time since he left, George has moved around the bed so that they can each hold one of Lucy’s hands now that she’s awake, gentle around the bandages, and he wonders again what’s actually happening with the three of them.
Their conversation slows, and Lucy looks up at him, not surprised in the least. She hadn’t shown it, but he’s sure she knew he was there the whole time.
George and Lockwood, on the other hand, jump about three feet in the air and pull back from Lucy immediately, like they’ve been caught doing something they shouldn’t. And Lucy laughs, bright and loud in a way that Barnes has only heard a few times in all the years he’s spent with her, although still marred with hoarseness from the heat and smoke of the furnace.
Before he can say anything, a nurse bustles past him and into the room. “Alright, honey, you’ve been cleared to go home. There are some medications to pick up from the pharmacy, and you’ll have to schedule a follow-up in the next week or so, but tonight you can go home and get some sleep in your own bed. Doesn’t that sound nice?”
Lucy nods, already looking tired again.
The nurse turns to him then, already holding out paperwork for him to sign since Lucy is still underage.
It’s then that he realizes Lucy is in a hospital gown, her party dress having been badly singed in the fire, and he pulls out his keys and tosses them to Lockwood, who fumbles them slightly before getting his grip; a testament to how worn out he is as well.
“My car is parked right outside. There’s a set of clothes in the trunk.” He fixes Lockwood with a hard stare, even though he knows there’s no reason to mistrust him right now–they’re all focused on Lucy. “No funny business.”
Lockwood nods, not afraid, but certainly wary, and darts past him out the door.
Lucy smiles, tired and grateful, but also a little bit reproachful, and Barnes pointedly does not look apologetic in the slightest.
Once all the paperwork is signed and Lockwood has returned with Lucy’s spare clothes, the nurse helps her out of bed and into her clothes while they wait outside. Then Barnes helps her out to the car, with the boys trailing a few steps behind.
They hover a few feet back as Barnes gets Lucy situated in the passenger seat, and he sighs when he realizes they don’t have any way of getting home.
“Come on, then. In the car.” He says. “I’m not going to leave you to freeze.”
Having been given permission, they practically rush the car, with George automatically going to the left and Lockwood to the right.
He drives them home, and drops them off at Portland Row. They both look like they want to stay and make sure that Lucy is alright, but he doesn’t have enough space in his house for all of them and Lucy needs to rest. Barnes already knows it won’t last long–he has no doubt that one of the first things Lucy will do when she wakes up is ask to see Lockwood and George–but they’ve all had a long day, and they’ll all do better in their own beds.
With Marissa and Gale out of the picture, Barnes doesn’t think anyone else is coming after them, but he sets a car outside the house just in case.
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Lucy wakes up around midday, feeling much better but still looking worse for wear.
She’ll be hurting for a while, with the damage from the fire.
She wanders downstairs, but Barnes isn’t home. There’s a note on the fridge–he’s got work to do, cleaning up the mess that she and the boys made (although he doesn’t phrase it like that), and he’ll be out in Ealing all day. He’s left food in the fridge for her, but Lucy doesn’t quite feel like eating. They’ll have dinner together tonight; she can eat then.
With Barnes gone, and her injuries being what they are, she doesn’t have much energy. She makes herself a cup of tea, and then heads back to bed, although she grabs the phone from the hall table on her way.
Back in bed, Lucy sips her tea, watching the street from the window absentmindedly. When she’s drained the cup, she finds herself yawning, and tucks back under the covers.
An hour later, she wakes up again when the sun falls far enough in the sky to come through her window. Barnes isn’t home yet, so she sits up and fumbles with the phone, clumsily punching in the number for Portland Row.
It almost rings out, and for a moment she thinks she’ll have to leave a message, but a breathless voice picks up just before it does.
“Hello?”
Even just hearing Lockwood’s voice has her body relaxing.
“Hey, Lockwood.”
“Lucy! How are you? Wait, hold on, let me get George.” He says quickly, yelling out George’s name up the stairs. Even through the muffled sound of the phone, Lucy can hear George tumbling down the stairs and Lockwood telling him that she’s on the phone.
Lockwood puts the phone on speaker so they can both talk, and George immediately starts talking a mile a minute, asking how she is, since they didn’t get much time with her the night before.
“I’m alright,” she says softly. “Slept most of the day. Barnes is out doing clean-up. How is it there?”
George snorts. “Lockwood is a terrible patient. Gale gave him a nasty bump on the head, and he got a minor concussion out of it. He’s been a nightmare all day.”
Lockwood gasps, mock-scandalized. “I have not!”
“Don’t listen to him. You haven’t been the one dealing with him.”
Knowing what she does of Lockwood, Lucy can guess that George’s assessment is accurate.
She laughs a little, saying, “So you’re surviving alright without me, then?”
“Not in the slightest,” Lockwood responds. “Barnes said our sanction was officially lifted, so we can really get back to work now, but we really need a third person, preferably a Listener. I’ve been trying to get George to help me write an ad for the paper, but he’s been busy messing about with the skull again.”
The way Lockwood says it, it’s not quite an offer, but it feels a little forced-casual for him. It’s not something she’s really thought about, at least not consciously, but she’d be lying if she said she wouldn’t miss working with the boys. They might still see each other on cases, but it wouldn’t be the same.
She trusts them, more than she ever thought she could, and the idea of going back to being an agent suddenly isn’t as abhorrent as it was when she first started working for Barnes.
She doesn’t say any of that though. “Well, good luck with that. I’m probably going to fall asleep again soon, but maybe I could come over tomorrow? The day after? We’ll have to write up the case report on this whole business anyway.”
It’s just an excuse to see them, not that she really needs one, but it feels safer that way.
“Of course,” Lockwood says. And then, soft and sincere, “You’re always welcome here.”
She nods, even though they can’t see her. “Alright. Tomorrow, then.”
“Sleep well, Luce,” Lockwood says.
They hang up the phone, and she curls back under the covers again, still pondering the idea of working at Lockwood & Co. even as she falls asleep.
When she wakes again, the sun is setting, and the front door is just shutting behind Barnes. He hasn’t called out, likely because he’s trying not to wake her if she’s sleeping, but she’s always been a light sleeper.
“I’m up!” She calls out, and the footsteps in the hall change direction, coming towards her instead of going for the kitchen.
Barnes appears in the doorway, looking tired but otherwise fine. “How are you feeling?”
“Fine,” Lucy replies. “Slept most of the day. What’s for dinner?”
He lifts up a plastic takeout bag that she hadn’t noticed before. “Grabbed curry from that place you like near the office on my way home. Hope you’re hungry.”
She nods, already stumbling out of bed.
The bandages on her hands make eating hard, but they make it work. The medication she’s on dulls the pain enough that the injuries are less of a problem than the cumbersome wrappings, which she’s grateful for, but Lucy already knows it’ll be bad when she gets downgraded to over-the-counter painkillers.
“How was it today?” She asks Barnes, fork halfway to her mouth.
“A madhouse, as expected. The death of the most prominent figure in the country, bar possibly the Prime Minister, has everyone acting like the world is ending. It’s not going to be better when Rotwell gets arrested.”
“You’re arresting Rotwell? What for?”
“Him and possibly every other agency head and Problem-related CEO. Well, we only know Rotwell for sure was involved in Fittes’ iron circle project, but it stands to reason that everyone else involved would benefit from The Problem continuing. There’s a lot of investigating to be done right now.” Barnes explains.
She nods. It makes sense that this would be a much wider conspiracy, even if she and the boys had been mostly focused on Fittes.
“Speaking of,” He says, “Do I need to find myself another investigator?”
“What?”
“I mean, if you’re coming back once you’re all healed up, then that’s great, but I thought maybe, with the way those boys were fussing over you…” He trails off.
She’s not quite sure what to say.
“Look, Lucy, I just want you to be safe and happy. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. God knows Lockwood and Karim haven’t always been my favorite people, but they’ve done alright the last couple weeks. If they make you happy, then that’s all I need to know.”
It’s a bit of a non-sequitur, but the words come out without her really meaning to. “I wasn’t…I wasn’t ready then. To trust people again.”
“I know. But you’ve had time. You still do, if that’s what you need. Just think about it–do you think maybe you’re ready now?” Barnes asks.
Truthfully, Lucy has thought about it a lot over the course of the case. Lockwood & Co aren’t like Jacobs’ or any other agency out there. She’d thought Lockwood was being overly cocky when she’d met him, but he was right. Lockwood & Co is the best. They’re different.
Lucy had wondered for a long time how she could ever trust an agency supervisor, a team, or, honestly, herself, again after what happened with her team. With Lockwood and George, though, it was easy. They had proved time and time again as they worked together that they would listen to her, trust her instincts, trust her not to lead them astray.
They believed her.
“Maybe I am,” She says. “But what do I do?”
Even as she says it, she thinks back to Lockwood’s words earlier; You’re always welcome here .
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It’s a few weeks later when Lucy finds herself standing outside Portland Row, hands no longer bandaged and slowly returning to normal. She’s been around a few times since the case ended, but most of her time has been spent healing or doing what she can to assist Barnes with the fallout of Marissa’s death.
This time is different though.
She’s standing at the top of the steps, rapier at her side and kit bag in hand, only a little bit nervous.
She knocks on the door, listening for the steps coming down the hall as someone comes to answer it.
George is the one who opens it. “Lucy! Didn’t know you were coming by today.”
“Hey, George,” She says, as casually as she can manage when her heart feels like it’s going to beat out of her chest. “I heard you might be looking for a Listener.”
George’s jaw drops. “Wait. Really? What about Barnes? And DEPRAC?”
Lucy shrugs. “I needed something different, when I came to London. But working with you and Lockwood, I remembered what I liked about being an agent. Besides, someone has to keep you two out of trouble, right?”
He smiles, opening the door wider so she can join him inside. “Come on in then. Lockwood’s in an interview right now, but she won’t last long. Hasn’t got your constitution.”
He’s proven right a moment later, as a young blonde girl runs screaming from the sitting room, slamming the front door behind her.
“Told you,” George says quietly as they walk towards the sitting room.
He raps on the doorframe as they enter, catching Lockwood’s attention. “We’ve got one more interview.”
“What? Who? I thought that was the last one.” Lockwood replies, turning around.
When he sees Lucy, he looks just as shocked as George did. “Lucy? George, I thought you said we had an interview.”
George just nods his head at Lucy. “We do.”
Lockwood looks even more shocked at that, if it’s even possible, but then he shakes it off. “You’re hired.”
“What?” Now it’s Lucy’s turn to be shocked. “Just like that? Not going to make me do whatever had that poor girl run screaming?”
Lockwood laughs. “You’ve already done it. All I did was show her the skull and she lost her head. Lucy, I told you, we want you here. If you’re serious, then so are we.”
She nods. “I want this. I want to be here with you, both of you.”
Lockwood smiles, and in the periphery she can see George smiling as well. “Good. We want you here too.”
Grabbing a file folder off the mantel, Lockwood gestures toward the kitchen. “Come on, we were just about to make tea. Got a new case to look at.”
“As long as it isn’t as exciting as the last one,” Lucy replies, reaching out for Lockwood and George and finding them already reaching back.