Work Text:
Norrie wakes up to a warm room, tubes in her hands and face, and a girl she doesn’t recognize holding her hand. The girl is asleep, brown hair streaked with white falling into her face. She’s clearly young–an agent, if the rapier leaning against the chair is anything to go by–but the white sections of hair make her seem otherworldly.
On the other side of the bed, her parents are also asleep in their chairs, holding each other’s hands.
She can’t quite tell what’s going on–the last thing Norrie remembers is going to Wythburn Mill with the team. Something must have happened. Maybe she hit her head or got burned by ectoplasm. It wouldn’t be the first time.
But that doesn’t quite explain the hospital room setup taking over her bedroom. It’s clear that that’s what it is, as she looks around. All the fancy monitors and fluid bags and shit crowded around the bed.
It’s time for some answers.
Norrie shifts, squeezing the girl’s hand. She tries to speak, but all that comes out is a raspy cough.
It does have the intended effect of waking up the girl, at least. She bolts upright in her chair, hand already reaching for her rapier before she even opens her eyes.
Definitely an agent then.
Her eyes lock on Norrie and Norrie gasps.
It’s not just a girl, not just an agent.
It’s Lucy.
And Norrie didn’t even recognize her.
Of course, the gasp sets off another fit of coughs, and Lucy rushes to get her the glass of water resting on the bedside table. Lucy’s soft with her touches, carefully leveraging Norrie up so Lucy can hold the glass to her lips and help her drink.
Once the glass is empty, Lucy sets it back on the table. “You’re awake! How are you feeling?”
Her parents are wide-eyed but silent, watching her like she’ll fade away if they so much as blink.
This time, when she tries to speak, her voice is raspy, but there. “Everything’s…heavy, Luce. Wha’ happened?”
“What– um, what do you remember?” Lucy asks quietly.
“We were going to the mill. Type one.”
Lucy winces. “It wasn’t a type one. It was a Changer. I knew something was wrong, but Jacobs didn’t listen and now they’re all dead. I’m so sorry, Norrie. So sorry. I couldn’t save Paul. Or you.” She takes a deep breath. “You were ghost-locked.”
Norrie doesn’t even know where to start with that. No one wakes up from ghost-lock. Not if it’s gotten to the point where they put you in a hospital bed.
A lot of families pay to keep ghost-locked patients alive, but everyone knows there’s no real hope. Norrie wouldn’t have thought her parents had the money either, not for any length of time. Probably the Veteran Support Fund, she thinks.
“How– When–” Norrie starts.
Her mom reaches over. “Norrie, please slow down. You don’t want to stress yourself out too much right now—we just got you back.”
She can appreciate her mother’s concern, but she needs to know. She keeps her eyes on Lucy, the person she can always count on.
Lucy nods. Her parents try to interrupt, but Lucy gives them a look and they quietly get up.
“We’ll be back to check on you later, sweetheart,” Her father says.
Once they’re gone, Lucy takes a deep breath. “It’s been a little over two years. They finally cleared the mill last week, so we all took time off to see if you would wake up. The Problem’s over, Norrie.”
“ What ?”
It’s over, just like that. And Norrie was asleep through all of it.
Lucy is babbling. “Well, not entirely. We’re still clearing out the last of them. But the worst of it is done. There won’t be large-scale visitations anymore. And anything that does come through shouldn’t pose much of a threat, I don’t think.”
Looking at Lucy now feels a bit like double-vision. She can still see hints of the girl she grew up with, her partner, her best friend, but over it is this new Lucy, and she’s been through a lot, clearly. She seems older, much older than two years should imply, and more sure of herself. The white in her hair is eye-catching and off-putting, but Norrie can’t help being drawn in by it.
Shakily, she lifts a hand to Lucy’s head, brushing at her hair.
Lucy huffs a laugh. “You won’t believe what I did to get that.”
Norrie doesn’t get a chance to ask before there’s a knock at the door. A boy—she wants to say a little older than them, but that’s not quite true anymore, is it? She’s probably older than he is—with the same white streaks in his hair, peers around the doorframe.
“Can I come in?” He asks. “I’ve brought tea and biscuits.”
Lucy nods, gesturing to the end of the bed. “Thanks, Lockwood.”
He grins, bright and boyish, and Lucy’s face flushes red. It was a grin that would make any girl swoon, but combined with the white in his hair only made him appear more than a little unsettling. Not for the first time, Norrie wonders what caused it. “Everyone else is still downstairs. Mr. and Mrs. White are telling all the best stories about you, Luce. And you, Miss White.” He adds, turning to Norrie with a wink.
He sets the tray down next to Lucy. “Well, I’ll leave you to it. Good to see you awake, Miss White.” And then he’s gone, closing the door softly behind himself.
Lucy’s face is still red.
“Who was that ?” Norrie asks teasingly, looking Lucy up and down.
“He’s my…partner. Well, one of my partners. And also technically my boss.”
Norrie almost can’t believe it. “What in the hell have you been up to, Luce?”
“It’s a long story.”
She huffs a laugh. “I can’t exactly go anywhere, can I? Don’t think my legs would work even if I tried.”
Lucy sighs. “Alright then. Budge up.”
She shoves at Norrie until there’s space for them to cuddle up together on the tiny twin bed. It feels like just yesterday that this was a regular occurrence–the two of them, and sometimes Paul, all curled up together talking about everything and nothing. And it was yesterday, for her, but for Lucy? It’s clearly been a lifetime.
It takes Lucy a few minutes to gather her thoughts. Norrie is perfectly content to wait, idly toying with Lucy’s fingers while she does.
Before she starts, Lucy pours a cup of tea for herself and grabs a biscuit for each of them.
“After…everything, I couldn’t stay here. Jacobs didn’t even get in trouble, and Mum wanted me to apologize and just go back to work like everything was normal. Like my best friends– like my family hadn’t just…died.” She takes a rather aggressive bite out of her biscuit. “So I ran away. I took the first train to London. I figured, if I couldn’t have you with me, I’d at least do what you always wanted. Fittes and Rotwell wouldn’t give me the time of day. I still didn’t have my grade four, or parent permission. I tried everywhere.
“The very last agency was a tiny one. Just two boys, Lockwood and George, not even a supervisor. But they didn’t care about my qualifications–they took me on. We all live there together, at the house. It used to belong to Lockwood’s parents, but he got it after they died.
“George and I didn’t like each other much at first, but we figured ourselves out. He’s our researcher, and he’s genius at it. We’d never get anywhere without him—honestly, we’d probably be dead twenty times over.”
Norrie gives a wry smile. “I’m glad you’re not.”
“I am too.”
Lucy crunches on her biscuit. “Anyway, we did a bunch of cases, almost died a thousand times, found out I could talk to ghosts because we had a Type Three in the basement that George stole from Fittes, destroyed a window to the Other Side, destroyed a portal to the Other Side, made a portal to the Other Side, discovered that Penelope Fittes was actually Marissa Fittes possessing her granddaughter’s body and that she kept her own dead body in a closet, and that she and Rotwell caused the Problem by locking up the gates on the Other Side that allow spirits to move on so that she could absorb their energy and make herself immortal. It was all kinds of fucked up, Norrie. She was one twisted woman.”
Norrie blinks. “I’m sorry, what ?”
“Everything we promised each other came true–Lockwood & Co is the most famous agency in London, and we’re the most famous agents. We’re not on the cover of every single magazine, but it feels pretty fucking close sometimes. And Marissa Fittes really did beg us to join her agency, but that was before we knew she was Marissa and not Penelope. She tried to kill us after we figured that out, so the job offer was pretty null at that point.”
Norrie is pretty sure her jaw is on the floor. “So your hair…”
“It’s from the Other Side. We’ve all got it, but Lockwood and I have it worse because we went through twice.”
They sit in silence for a while.
“I’m really glad you’re awake, Norrie,” Lucy whispers, face tucked against Norrie’s neck. “I missed you so much.”
—
When Norrie wakes up the second time, Lucy is snoring against her shoulder. In the chairs next to the bed, two boys are talking quietly. One of them is Lockwood, but the other is unfamiliar. He keeps adjusting his glasses, like he wants to clean them but isn’t sure why he needs to. Finally, Lockwood grasps his hand and twines their fingers together and it dawns on Norrie that this must be Lucy’s other partner.
Lockwood glances at the bed and does a double take when he sees Norrie’s eyes open. “Hello, Miss White,” He whispers, careful not to disturb Lucy.
The other boy startles. Unhelpfully, he says, “You’re awake.”
“How long was I asleep?” She asks.
“Not long, it’s only been a couple of hours since I brought the tea up.” Lockwood shakes his head. “I’m glad Lucy’s finally able to rest. She hasn’t slept well since we got the news that they were sending a team to the mill.”
Norrie looks down at Lucy, still not used to the white in her hair shared by the boys.
“I’m sorry, I know we haven’t really been introduced. I’m Anthony Lockwood, and this is George Karim.”
She nods. “Norrie. It’s…you work with Lucy, right?”
“We’re her partners, yes,” Lockwood says. “I…I hope that’s alright with you.” He sounds younger, all of a sudden. Unsure and painfully insecure.
She knows why he’s asking. “She told you?”
“Not at first,” George cuts in. His face is unreadable. “But eventually, yes. Lucy wouldn’t do anything with us until she’d told us about you and Paul. She loved Paul— loves you. It still tears her up that she couldn’t save you and your team.”
Norrie can’t help it—she starts crying. Lockwood jolts forward as if to comfort her, but pulls back. George doesn’t move.
The sound of her crying has the unfortunate side effect of waking Lucy, who, like before, jolts awake, reaching for a weapon that isn’t there. Out of the corner of her eye, Norrie can see twin frowns on the boys’ faces.
“Are you– Norrie– what’s–” Lucy can’t seem to settle on a question.
“I’m alright, Luce. Everything’s alright,” Norrie says, brushing Lucy’s hair out of her face.
George reaches across Lockwood to take Lucy’s pinkie finger. “We didn’t mean to wake you. Everything’s alright, Luce, you can go back to sleep.”
She finally calms, turning back to Norrie only to immediately work herself up again. “Oh, you’re crying! What’s happened?”
Norrie smiles weakly. “Nothing happened, Lucy. I just love you. And I’m sorry I wasn’t there for everything. I’m sorry you had to keep our promise on your own. I’m glad you found people who love you the way you deserve. You deserve everything, Lucy. You always have.”
Lucy freezes. “I never stopped loving you,” she whispers.
“I know.”
“I didn’t– I didn’t know– I didn’t think ,” Lucy sobs.
“I know, I know. It’s okay , Lucy. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I should have waited.”
Norrie shakes her head. “You couldn’t have known. The Problem has been our whole lives. People get ghost-locked every day and never wake up. You couldn’t have known what would happen.”
In their chairs, George and Lockwood are holding each other’s hands so tightly they’ve turned white.
“It’s okay, Lucy. We’re okay.”
Lucy sniffles. “You promise?”
“I promise.”
She nods, clearly worn out.
“You can go back to sleep now, Luce,” Lockwood says. “We’ll take care of Miss White.”
They’re quiet for a long time, all three of them listening intently as Lucy’s breath evens out.
When she starts snuffling, they all relax, a sure sign that she’s deeply asleep. Lockwood releases George’s hand, flexing his own to restore the blood flow. George, for his part, barely blinks.
“Thanks for that, Lockwood,” he grumbles under his breath.
Lockwood huffs a laugh. “If I recall, your fingers weren’t any looser.”
Norrie has to blink back tears.
“Promise me you’ll treat her right,” She blurts out. “She’s everything to me. You have to take care of her.”
Lockwood leans forward, eyes trained on her. “We’re not taking Lucy away from you, Miss White.” He pauses for a long moment. Norrie almost isn’t sure he’s going to continue speaking, but there’s a look in his eyes that makes her wait. “We recently redecorated, and there now happens to be a spare bedroom in our house. It’s yours, should you ever want it.”
Norrie can’t believe what she’s hearing.
“Things can’t ever be what they were, but we have all the time in the world to build something new.”
“You mean–”
“Lucy isn’t a possession, or something that needs to be taken care of. She can handle herself just fine.” George says. “She’ll make her own decisions about what she wants. But you’re welcome in our home.”
Norrie wipes her eyes with the back of her hand. “ Thank you .”
—
The third time Norrie wakes up, Lucy’s weight is gone from the bed. When she turns to look at the chairs, she finds them empty of George and Lockwood, instead replaced by a very pretty stranger.
The girl looks a little older than Lucy did, probably closer to Norrie’s own age, and is perfectly put together, except for an anxious tapping of her fingers against the arm of the chair.
She doesn’t startle when she looks up and finds Norrie awake, just nods politely.
“Hello, Miss White. I’m Holly Munro, one of Lucy’s colleagues. She’s downstairs eating right now, but I can go tell her you’re awake again, if you’d like.”
Norrie’s mouth is once again too dry to speak, so she shakes her head. Lucy’s been at her bedside almost the entire time since she first woke up; she deserves a bit of a break.
“Let me get you some water, then. And maybe a bit of soup? They still have you on the fluids, but the nurses said you should start getting used to real food again.”
Holly is gone before Norrie can do anything.
She returns a few minutes later carrying a tray. No one else is with her, which is surprising until Norrie remembers she’d—in far fewer words—asked Holly to let Lucy eat.
“Can I help you sit up?” Holly asks.
Norrie nods, and deceptively strong arms help her to prop herself up against the pillows. She nods her thanks and Holly hands her the glass of water, keeping loose fingers on the bottom to prevent Norrie from spilling as she drinks.
“Thank you,” Norrie says when she’s finished.
Holly smiles. “Of course. Would you like some soup?”
She’s about to agree when Lucy comes flying into the room. “I can help her, Holly!”
“Oh! Lucy! I didn’t mean for you to rush through eating, I can help if you need another minute.”
An odd expression crosses Lucy’s face. “Thanks, Holly. I’ve got it.”
Holly nods, passing over the tray, and she leaves the room. Norrie would have liked to get to know her better, but she supposes there will be time for that later.
“How many colleagues do you have, Luce? I thought it was just Lockwood and George?”
Lucy laughs. “No, it started out just the three of us, but we hired Holly about a year after I joined the agency. It was just getting to be too much work and we were doing jobs on our own almost every night. Holly mostly does administrative work for us, but she also joined us on cases when we needed another person and, well, she’s a bit of a jack-of-all-trades, I suppose.
“You haven’t met Quill or Flo yet. Quill is downstairs; he used to work at Fittes, but that fell apart so we took him on. It’s a bit of a long story. Flo is the only relic-woman out there, but she’s alright. Not like other relic-hunters. She’s helped us out plenty of times.”
“You’ll have to explain everything in detail at some point,” Norrie says. “I can’t even imagine half of what you’ve done.”
“A lot of it is in the tapes. I don’t know if your parents played them, or if you could hear anything while you were ghost-locked, but I recorded everything for you.”
Lucy reaches down, pulling a shoebox out from under the bed. It’s full of cassette tapes with little doodles on them. One of the ones on top has little stick-figure drawings of Lucy, George, Lockwood, and herself.
“Here, you can listen to these whenever you like. Some of it was restricted information, so I couldn’t share everything, but these will give you a decent picture. I can tell you the rest later.”
Norrie runs her fingers across the tapes. “You did this for me?”
“Of course. I couldn’t very well send you letters, could I?”
She laughs, and Lucy laughs with her, and everything falls right back into place. It’s going to be alright–she can see that now.
—
Three months later, Norrie takes the train to London. Her parents don’t like it, but Lucy has been her home for a long time, and she’s tired of being apart.
Her recovery is coming along well, and she’s got a physical therapist and a doctor waiting for her in London, courtesy of DEPRAC. She’s been returning the favor, sending Lucy tapes every week, but there isn’t much to talk about in their little town.
She’s ready to come home.
Three months later, Norrie, with Lucy’s help, walks up the stairs to 35 Portland Row.
It’s a beautiful house, especially now with the lavender blooming in the front. There’s a fresh coat of paint on the outside, and new shutters on the windows. It looks alive.
Inside, it’s not just Lockwood and George waiting. Quill Kipps, Holly Munro, and Flo Bones all sit around the kitchen table. There’s a veritable feast sitting on top of the brand-new thinking cloth.
The house is warm, surrounded by new friends and newer family. Holly kisses her cheek while she holds Lucy’s hand.
Three months later, at the kitchen table, Lucy says, “Welcome home, Norrie.”
It’s not what it was, or what it could have been. It’s something new.