Chapter Text
“This is my decision.”
And with that, Lucy turned and walked away.
I sighed, knowing that I couldn’t stop her but also hating the fact that she wanted to do this alone ( without you , a voice in my head whispered).
I looked at George and knew a conversation I didn’t want was coming. Preparing myself, I went and sat on the stone steps in front of the building while George began pacing.
“Don’t.” I said, trying to cut George off before he could even start.
“Don’t what? Don’t remind you of what a stupid idea this is? Don’t tell you that your decisions are compromised by your feelings for Lucy?”
Oh so I guess we’re just going to jump right into it then. Brilliant.
“What do you mean? I don’t have feelings for Lucy. She’s my friend, my colleague.”
“Are you lying to me or to yourself, Lockwood? We need to have this conversation.”
“We really don’t.” Please, I silently begged, but I knew it wasn’t going to work. George had been shooting me looks and hints for weeks now and I’ve been avoiding it. Now though, he knew I wouldn’t - couldn’t - run away from where Lucy needed me.
“Well considering that our lives could be on the line, we really do.”
George sighed and came over to stand by me.
“Look, Lockwood, I’m going to say some things and you need to not interrupt. I honestly think you don’t know how you feel about Lucy -”
“I don’t –”
“What did I literally just say? I’m talking and you owe it to all of us to listen to me for once.”
I nodded in assent figuring we should just get this over with. George didn’t know what he was talking about, obviously. Liar. (Great, now I’m arguing with the voice in my head. Very sane, Lockwood.)
“Ok. You have feelings for Lucy. It’s obvious to everyone except you two idiots. And you know what? It’s probably a good thing. Maybe you’ll be safer, more cautious, and calm your death wish if you have someone to love. Someone to live for. Or maybe not. I don’t know. But the fact is, your feelings for Lucy - and your refusal to acknowledge them - has compromised your decision making. And for what? So you two can dance around each other and unconsciously third wheel me? It’s fucking annoying.”
George paused then, shaking his head, like he had forgotten he was talking to me instead of just having this conversation in his head.
“Anyway, everyone sees the way you look at each other. You both forget anyone else is in the room. It’s been that way since the first day she rang and told you off for your test.”
We both smiled at that memory. It was Lucy through and through.
Softer now, he looked at me. “Lockwood, you’re my best friend. You, me, and Lucy are family. I’ve known you for a long time and I want you to be happy. You have been a shell putting on a front for so long that I’m not even sure if you know how to just be yourself. Your parents and Jessica wouldn’t want you closed off like this. Yeah, we’re probably going to die just like they did but you’re acting like we’re all already gone. You deserve to be happy, Lockwood. You deserve love. We all do. What the fuck is the point of all this if we’re just here existing instead of living? Anyway, think about it. Admit to yourself what the rest of us can see. Lucy isn’t just a co-worker to you, and you’re smarter than to really think that.”
And with that, George walked away, leaving me to process everything he said.
Did I love Lucy? Of course I did. She was family to me - just like George.
Ugh stop lying to yourself came that annoying voice in the back of my brain. Of course, I found Lucy attractive. I’m not going to lie to myself and say she isn’t beautiful. And feisty, and fierce, and called me out on my shit in a way that not even George did. She was also kind and compassionate in a field that often left people bitter and jaded.
And sure, did I think that in another life, I could’ve fallen for Lucy? Probably. But we’re here, not there. George is right that we’re going to die sooner rather than later. And I refuse to leave behind someone who would mourn me.
Coward! You already have people who would mourn you. George, Lucy, Flo just to start. Don’t use that lame excuse.
Ok fine, but mourning someone as a friend was different than mourning them as a lover (god what an awkward word). Right?
But then again, I already loved her, didn’t I?
Well fuck. The realization forcibly knocked the wind out of me. I loved Lucy Carlyle.
George shot me a knowing look. “Figured it out, did ya?”
In answer, I just dropped my head into my hands.
Seeing that his words had their intended effect, and knowing me well enough not to push, he turned his attention back to our mission.
“I really am worried about her though. There’s something just not right about her connection with the skull.” George said as he began pacing again.
“Look, hours ago, I thought this was the best thing to ever happen to us. Now it could be the worst.”
Don’t remind me, I thought, but said instead, “I know what you mean.”
“She said, ‘Give us 15 minutes and if we're not back…’ She's talking about it like they're a team! It's still technically mine.”
“It was never yours, technically.” I knew that was besides the point, and so did George.
“How long now?”
Checking my watch, I willed it to be later than I knew it was. “Ten minutes.”
“Look, she's not in charge here. Who knows what that thing could be whispering in her ear? Have you forgotten Annabel Ward?”
I shot George a look: how could I?
“Let me put it this way. We've just sent her alone into a severely haunted house.”
The unspoken end of that sentence: and she’s alone with no one to help her.
“You're right. This is insane.”
And with that, I got up and stormed inside. I could deal with a pissed-off Lucy as long as she was an alive pissed-off Lucy.