Chapter Text
When Montagu Barnes was called to investigate an incident in a small backwater in the North, he had no idea it would change his life forever. He read the official DEPRAC report on the train in. Several young agents were dead, one was ghostlocked and probably would never wake, and only one from the team had survived. A young Listener who had tried – it seemed – to warn her supervisor that something wasn’t right. She claimed that her supervisor had stood in the doorway of the haunted mill and seen what was happening to the teenagers inside and then had walked away. The supervisor – a Mr. Jacobs who had once been a Fittes agent himself – had claimed in his testimony to the coroner that the girl’s information was lacking and that he didn’t gain access to the mill until there was no more that could possibly have been done for his agents.
Barnes knew better than to let emotion get the better of him. It was hard, unforgiving work to be a DEPRAC officer in charge of making sure agents didn’t get themselves or others killed. Sometimes, he had to remind himself that they were only kids; sometimes, he had to step back and compartmentalize the part of himself that wanted to treat them as “only kids”.
Well, thought Barnes as he watched the scenery flash by the window of the train, I’ll see for myself soon enough whether Ms. Carlyle or Mr. Jacobs is the liar. Either would have motive, certainly. Best not to jump to any conclusions before we get there.
Wade had come with him, of course, but she had fallen asleep against the glass of the window in the seat across from him a half hour ago. He glanced at her fondly, then turned back to gazing out the window, mentally sorting through all the facts he had and which ones he would need to discover when he arrived.
-
Three days after the coroner ruled that the deaths of her teammates were simply “death by misadventure”, DEPRAC finally came to town. Lucy had been ready to jump out of her skin if they didn’t arrive soon. Her mother wanted her to go to Jacobs and beg for his forgiveness. Lucy would rather chew broken glass. But when she was at the train station after sneaking out her bedroom window with all she could carry in the watery light of dawn, she saw that the arriving train opposite the one she was set to board to get to London had passengers getting off. No one ever got off here. She hesitated for a moment, then grabbed her duffel and stumbled after them.
“Excuse me,” she called, out of breath from sprinting the length of the platform, “excuse me! Are you DEPRAC?”
The two turned to look at her. He was tall, with dark skin, dark hair, and dark eyes that seemed to see all the rules she had ever broken in her life. She was shorter than he was, closer to Lucy’s height, and had long red hair and freckles across her pale face and hands. Both carried overnight bags and seemed tired, despite their rigid postures.
“Yes, we are, Miss…” the man trailed off, eyebrows high.
“Carlyle. Lucy Carlyle, I filed the report.”
“And you were, what? Catching the train out of town?” His voice was deep and steady, but not unkind.
“I was just coming to meet you. T-To see if you were here yet.”
He glanced at the duffel she’d dropped at her feet.
“With all of your belongings in tow?”
“Never know what you’ll need, right Inspector…?”
Now it was her turn to cock an eyebrow at him, even as she tried desperately to hide her nerves.
He smirked at her, clearly not buying it but willing to let it go for the moment, “Barnes. Inspector Barnes; this is Sergeant Wade.” He nodded toward his companion, who gave Lucy a single, stoic nod.
“Well, then. Let’s get going. We have accommodations at the Swann Hotel and then we’re off to see this Moorgate Mill for ourselves in the daylight. Care to join us?”
Lucy felt herself go cold and dizzy at the mention of the mill; felt the memories and horrors of recent events begin to pull her in. Barnes watched as the girl – Ms. Carlyle – lost all of the color in her face. She looked like she might faint and in the corner of his eye Barnes saw Wade stiffen, ready to catch the girl if her legs did give out.
Well that’s interesting, he thought, not that a swoon can’t be faked. But the way all the color leeched out of her all of a sudden. She’s either a very good actress or a very traumatized young woman.
“We can find our own way,” Wade told the girl, “why don’t you go on home. We’ll come by to interview you properly later.”
Lucy tried to regain herself. She locked her knees, took a deep breath, squared her shoulders.
“No, no that’s alright. I can show you the way to the hotel at least. There’s a café near there where one of my sisters works; I’ll just wait there until you’re ready for me.”
With that, she picked up her bag and began to lead them out of the train station and towards the hotel. Behind her, Barnes and Wade exchanged a look. They were on the same page, it said, suspicious of why this girl wouldn’t go home. Or was it that she couldn’t go home? They turned to follow her, both determined to see this mess sorted as quickly as possible. Then, they would go back to London, and the affairs of Miss Lucy Carlyle would no longer be their concern.
-
It turned out the affairs of Miss Lucy Carlyle would continue to be their concern for the foreseeable future. After seeing the mill, reading through all the reports about it for the past six decades, and interviewing nearly every person in the small town, Barnes was too tired to compartmentalize. He was furious. The system had clearly failed Ms. Carlyle, and what adults hadn’t actively shunned and blamed her for the loss of her team had passively stood by and allowed it to happen. Talking to Jacobs had been easy enough. The man’s hands shook all during the interview and his breath smelled of spirits. It wouldn’t have surprised Barnes to learn he’d been drinking that night at the mill, too, but no sample had been taken from him at the time. Watching him, seeing all his little tells and listening to Jacobs lie, obfuscate, and straight out blame Lucy Carlyle had made Barnes feel sick with disgust.
Not only should this man have never been left in charge of agents, he thought to himself, but the coroner who made the determination was clearly not interested in gathering all the facts. She decided the cause was death by misadventure and only looked at the evidence that supported that.
It was barely past two when Barnes and Wade made their way to the little café Lucy had mentioned. They had decided to grab a quick – very late – lunch and then interview Ms. Carlyle. When they got to the café, however, the plan changed very fast. Standing over the girl was a short, stout woman. She and the girl were arguing; Barnes and Wade could see that in their posture before they even made it through the glass door of the little shop. As they opened the door, they heard what the two were saying clearly for the first time.
“-you stupid girl! Why I let you sabotage the best source of income our family had is beyond me. Especially since you failed to even get us enough to take him to court for damages, couldn’t even do that right, could you?”
“You mean you only supported me against Jacobs because you thought there’d be a pay out? That you’d get some kind of settlement money? God, you’re horrible! Do you even have a heart, or is it just a roll of pound notes-?”
As the bell on the door finished its chime, they watched the woman raise her hand high and bring it across Ms. Carlyle’s face. Part of the blow was blocked by the young woman’s arms coming up defensively, but the force was still enough to turn her head and leave a red mark spreading across her cheek. Barnes and Wade were at her side in an instant. Wade subdued the woman they presumed was Ms. Carlyle’s mother while Barnes snapped at the girl behind the counter to bring him some ice in a clean cloth. She jumped about a foot in the air when he turned his attention on her but moved quickly for some ice. She had similar features to the other two women in the café; she must’ve been the sister Ms. Carlyle had mentioned earlier.
The girl was still sitting at her table, tea long forgotten by her elbow. One hand cradled her red cheek while the other swiped furiously at the tears she could neither hide nor contain. She wouldn’t look at him.
“Hey,” he said softly, going to one knee to match her height and tilting his head to catch her gaze, “hey, it’s alright now.”
He reached out and gently pried her hand away from her cheek to see the mark left behind. From the fading bruising around it, he guessed this wasn’t the first time in the last few days something like this had happened. He and Wade had likely missed it initially because of her makeup and the poor lighting of the train station but there was no hiding it now. Red hot fury filled Barnes and he took a long breath, mentally dousing the embers of wrath with cool, calm logic.
The girl from the counter scurried back with the ice and handed it to Barnes, talking all the while.
“I’m so sorry, Lucy,” she said quickly but also very quietly, as though afraid her mother would hear her and hurt her next, “I should’ve done something, I know, but I just- I just froze! I-”
“It’s fine, Mary,” Lucy Carlyle didn’t quite make eye contact with her sister as she smiled tightly at her, “I know how it is. It’s fine.”
But it wasn’t fine, Barnes thought, and from Wade’s posture as she dealt with the mother, she felt the same. It was one thing to have to send agents to fight and die against ghosts; it was quite another to abuse a traumatized kid.
Nothing about this is fine.
-
Barnes left it to Wade to escort Mrs. Carlyle home and to file their report with the local DEPRAC branch. He escorted Lucy Carlyle to the Swann hotel and got her a room across the landing from Wade. The girl at the front desk pretended Ms. Carlyle was invisible; Barnes may have brusquer with her than was necessary. Ms. Carlyle didn’t say anything on the way to the hotel, nor did she speak on the way to her room. She seemed zoned out, following behind Barnes with wide, glazed eyes. Barnes couldn’t say he understood what she was feeling, but he did feel protective of the girl who was brave enough to file a DEPRAC report knowing she would face abuse from her whole town, including her only living parent. And from what he had learned that afternoon, she had six older sisters who had done nothing to help, support, or protect her. No wonder she had been set to run this morning.
When they stood before her door, she spoke for the first time since her fight with her mother, “why are you doing this?”
Barnes looked down at her. Her head was bowed, gazed fixed firmly on the floor.
“Because it’s what right, Ms. Carlyle. The adults here, they’re corrupt, selfish. They failed you and then they blamed you for it. That’s not alright. But you were brave enough to reach out to DEPRAC; I owe you a duty, to find out what really happened and set things to right as much as is in my power. I can’t bring back your friends. But I can make sure Jacobs is shut down. I can protect you going forward.”
She looked up at him then.
“What happens when you move on the next case and I’m still here, Inspector? What then?”
“We’ll sort that out tomorrow, Ms. Carlyle. For now, you’re under the protection of DEPRAC as a witness in an ongoing investigation. Wade is already filing the paperwork to ensure that your mother can’t interfere with your testimony. Get some rest; Wade is the door across from you, if you need anything.”
She nodded at him solemnly and turned to go into her room. The door shut with a quiet click and Barnes strode back down the hallway and out of the hotel, ready to file some paperwork.
-
“Are you sure about this, Sir? It’s not exactly regular.”
“Nothing about this situation is regular, Wade. What would you have me do? We can’t fast track her Grade 4 and she’s too young to set off on her own, legally.”
“But taking legal custody of her, Sir? Isn’t that a bit far? It’s not as though you can do that for every agent you meet who’s failed by the system.”
Barnes sighed and leaned his head back against the wall. He and Wade were sitting in the tiny DEPRAC branch office, waiting for the paperwork he had submitted to be approved and filed.
“I know that, Wade. But this girl, I don’t know what it is about her but I feel like I need to protect her. Too few people have done so. Don’t you feel that when you look at her?”
Wade stared at him stonily.
“Of course I do, Sir. But you can’t save every agent who comes along. It’ll drive you mad if you try.”
Barnes closed his eyes and let out a sigh.
“I know that, Wade. I can’t help all of them. But this is something that I can do, that feels like the right thing. Will you back me?”
He opened his eyes to meet her steady gaze.
“Always, Sir.”
When they got the forms back, there was only one more thing they needed: Mrs. Carlyle’s permission for Inspector Montagu Barnes to formally adopt her daughter as his own. The next morning saw it done easily and with little fuss.
“Good riddance to the little beast,” the woman had spat when she handed the signed forms back to Wade, “she’s your problem now.”
Neither Wade nor Barnes had dignified that with a response. They left in cold silence and went to the little café by the hotel to grab breakfast for themselves and Ms. Carlyle. Barnes went to collect the girl from the hotel while Wade went to the station to get the three of them tickets back to London. Barnes was more than a little nervous for how to approach the subject of Ms. Carlyle’s adoption. After all, he’d never adopted a fifteen year old girl before, had he? What if she cried? What if she was angry? What if, after all that, she had no reaction at all and simply shut down the way she had the night before?
Nevertheless, Barnes had never skirted confrontation before and he wasn’t about to start now. Certainly not with Wade sitting diagonal from him, staring holes in his head.
“Miss Carlyle,” he began, but was interrupted.
“Lucy, please. Miss Carlyle is…a lot. Just Lucy is fine. Please.”
She was staring at him with big brown eyes from her seat across from him. He nodded and began again.
“Lucy, when we get to London you’ll be interviewed by a colleague of ours: Inspector Addams. She’ll take your deposition about what happened with Jacobs and the whole lot.”
“Not you?” Her voice was smaller than he’d yet heard it.
“Not me, and not Wade. We’re not on the case anymore.”
Lucy practically exploded out of her seat.
“But why? You went through all the trouble of coming to see the situation for yourselves but you’re not going to see it through?!”
“We can’t,” Wade cut in, her deep voice as steady and calm as ever, “we’re emotionally invested now, and so any report we make could be called into question.”
This made Lucy pause. She sat back in her seat and cocked her head to one side.
“Emotionally invested?”
“Yes,” Barnes picked up the opening Wade had given him, “because I’ve done something I’m afraid you might not like, Ms. Car- Lucy.”
Her face got that stony, guarded look again.
“What’s that then?”
“I’ve legally adopted you.”