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“Lucy, no. Don’t tell him anything.” Lockwood knew he sounded hoarse, and for once he didn’t care. He just needed Lucy to listen to him. She wasn’t going to, even from here he could see the stubborn set to her mouth, and he strained to free his leg, although he’d long ago realized he wasn't getting out of this on his own. She opened her mouth, ignoring him, and he cut her off. “ No–Lucy, trust me. Please. ”
Her mouth snapped shut, and she finally actually looked at him. He could only imagine how he looked right now. He’d been here for–oh, it felt like hours. Might have actually been hours. The man from the library, the one with the golden blade, had helpfully laid a thick chain in a circle around him, just out of reach. It had kept the visitors from getting at him, but Lockwood was well aware he was bait, and there wasn’t a thing he could do about it. His left leg was trapped under a massive iron door that had fallen into the room after a flare had gone off–and it wasn’t just a little trapped. The whole length of his shin was pressed flat against the floor, his knee twisted just enough that trying to pull himself out had made him break out in a cold sweat–not that it had stopped him from trying. But he had nothing to brace himself against, and it’s not as though the man with the golden blade had offered to help. He’d just watched Lockwood struggle, looking almost bored as he stood in his own chain circle, not bothering to answer Lockwood’s breathless attempts to goad him into talking. Lockwood had half expected him to take out a novel and start reading. But the man hadn’t even moved until Lucy appeared, when he’d stepped deliberately into the circle he’d placed around Lockwood and pressed his rapier to the back of Lockwood’s neck.
“I’d really rather not kill children.” The man spoke into the silence left by Lockwood’s begging–fuck, had he really begged? He pressed down with his rapier, and Lockwood tried to muffle the sound he made as it cut into his skin. “But I will if I have to. This doesn’t have to be complicated, Miss Carlyle. I assume you want your boss back in one piece, and I want to know what you’ve found out about the remains of Winkman’s organization. We can both leave here happy.”
“I…we don’t know anything.” Lucy said haltingly. Lockwood wished he could see her face, but his own face was pressed against the floor now as he panted for breath. “We only just found out he had more to his organization, we–wait!”
Lockwood had bitten his lip so hard he tasted blood, but at least he hadn’t done anything as foolish as scream. The man’s boot was on his back now, grinding against his shoulderblades, and the blade twisted against his neck. Calculations flitted at a panicked pace through Lockwood’s mind. If Lucy talked, there was no reason to let them live– either of them. Lockwood could hold his own against the man, but not like this, and the man had clearly had no trouble besting Lucy one-on-one. They had no leverage except for what the man wanted from them. It was shaky leverage at best, but it was all they had. He’d tried to come up with a plan to get them out of this, but all the advantages belonged to the man with the golden blade, and Lockwood knew perfectly well that his compunctions about killing children were at most perfunctory.
“I have it on good authority that you’ve already been to a safehouse of Winkman’s, and took something of value.” The man put more weight on Lockwood’s back and Lockwood choked, unable to help himself. He couldn’t breathe . “I need to know what you know about his other safehouses. Where they are, and what’s in them.”
“That’s…really all you want?” Lucy sounded dubious, and the man laughed.
“Well I’d take the relics you already recovered if you have them, but. You lot draw such beautiful maps, I’d rather like to see what you have on paper.”
“...Fine.”
Lockwood could hear paper crinkling, and suddenly the weight on his back was gone as the man moved towards Lucy. He coughed hard for air, but he didn’t try to object again. Whatever Lucy was doing, he had no choice but to trust her and hope she’d believed his warning. There was nothing else he could do.
“ Now, George! ” Lockwood’s head shot up at Lucy’s yell, and he flinched hard as an explosion rocked the room. The floor under the man with the golden blade was–well, gone . And so was the man in question. Lockwood covered his head, shielding himself as best he could while rubble peppered the area. There was a hand on his shoulder seconds later and Lockwood flinched again, wincing as the door on his leg shifted with the tremors of the explosion. “Lockwood–shit, we need to move.”
“Happy to, if you can get this thing off me.” To say the bravado was forced would be an understatement. Even to his own ears, Lockwood’s voice sounded fragile. “George ok?”
“He’s fine, he triggered it remotely–George, come on!”
Moments later, Lockwood could hear George muttering frantically as he investigated the door. “Oh, this thing is huge.”
“If you two can lift it a little, I think I can pull myself out.” Lockwood took as deep a breath as he could, but it came out shaky. “Or you could just–”
“Don’t.” Snapped Lucy. “Don’t even say it. We’re not leaving you here.”
“I was going to suggest you call DEPRAC.” Lockwood said. “I’ll admit–I’m feeling a little out of my depth here.” His pride would survive the admission, but it still stung a little to say out loud. “If you two can’t lift it, I don’t know what else we can do. And–assuming that man survived the fall, he’ll be back. And I’m afraid I won’t be much help.”
Lucy swore. “You and your self-sacrificial–”
“I’m not trying to be.” Lockwood turned his head so he could see her. It twisted his neck at an awkward angle, she was standing so close to him. “Really, I’m not. I wasn’t trying to–protect the information or anything–I was just pretty sure if he got what he wanted from us he’d shoot us. Both of us. He doesn’t exactly pull punches, Luce. I didn’t go seeking him out or anything, he found me .” And Lockwood hadn’t been ready for it. He hadn’t wanted to run into a haunted building on his own without a kit past curfew. But the man had disarmed him before he’d even realized he was under attack. The fact that it was a trap was obvious. But the thing about traps is there typically aren’t any good ways out of them.
“Well…maybe we should try lifting the door first, anyway?” George pointed out. “Here, Lucy, you grab that bit, and I’ll–”
“On three, ready?” Lucy’s voice sounded a little firmer, and Lockwood took another shaky breath as they began their countdown. On three, he dragged himself forward, but it was slow progress. He was terrified he wouldn’t make it before they’d have to put the door back down–it had hurt enough when they’d lifted it that his vision had gone dark around the edges, but at least he was making progress. His foot nearly caught in the narrow bit that had been crushing his calf the whole time, but he squeezed it through and scrambled the rest of the way out before flopping on his back, gasping for breath as Lucy and George let the door lower back into place.
“ Christ , Lockwood.” Lucy’s voice was closer now, she must be kneeling next to him. And when had he closed his eyes?
“Not–my idea of a good time.” He managed between shuddering breaths. “Can we go home now?”
Lucy’s hand found his and she gave it a gentle squeeze. “Yeah. We can go home.”
“If we can figure out how to get you down all those stairs.” George put in skeptically. Lockwood heard an impact as though Lucy had smacked him. “Hey!”
Between the two of them, they got him upright. He didn’t help much–his left leg wouldn’t take any weight at all, and he’d nearly crumpled back to the floor when he tried. Just as George had predicted, the stairs were difficult, and they were only about halfway down them when Lucy stopped abruptly, cocking her head slightly.
“Something’s coming.” She said urgently, and glanced at George.
“We can’t fight it off like this.”
Lockwood knew he wouldn’t be of any help at all. The best he could manage was to open his eyes and try to stop shivering for a moment. He didn’t need a meter to tell him the temperature was dropping fast. “That’s probably the visitor I saw when I first came in. Type two. No idea where its source is, but there was a death glow at the end of the hallway upstairs.”
“Do we run?” George asked.
“Guess we have to.”
Lockwood braced himself as his friends broke into an uneven run down the stairs. There was no avoiding jostling his leg, and he blacked out for what he thought was only a minute. When he came to, they were in the back of a cab, and he was propped sideways against Lucy, his injured leg stretched out across George’s lap. Disoriented, he tried to sit up, but Lucy wrapped an arm around his chest to keep him still.
“It’s alright. We’re going home.” Lucy’s voice was quiet, and he could feel her breath in his hair. He exhaled shakily and let her pull him back against her.
“Yeah, and tomorrow we’re taking you to the hospital, because your leg does not look good.”
“Thanks for that, George.” Lockwood murmured. With the imminent danger past, he was finding it harder and harder to focus. He needed sleep. “How did you two find me, anyway?”
George shared a look with Lucy. “He, uh.”
“He sent us a note.” Lucy filled in. There was a pause. “And your rapier.”
“...Fuck.”
“Yeah.”
“We should…figure out how to protect the house better. Since he knows where we live.” Lockwood could tell he sounded vague. “Change the locks.”
“We could get a big dog.” George suggested.
Lucy snorted. “It’s cozy enough with the three of us as it is.” She hugged Lockwood a little closer. “Go back to sleep, Lockwood. We’ll get you home safe.”
“Don’t let George buy a doberman while I’m sleeping.” Lockwood mumbled, eyes already starting to close. “We don’t have the budget for dog food.”
The last thing he felt was Lucy’s laughter as a warm vibration against his back as he let himself fall asleep.