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Lucy had to come to terms with death and her own mortality at a young age. As soon as her Talent became apparent, she knew that there was a strong possibility that she would become a statistic.
A name on a plaque. An engraving on a headstone. Another casualty in the war against ghosts.
Making it to London and joining Lockwood and Co. gave her newfound reasons to keep going, to keep her name off of those plaques. And if she could help it, the names of her fellow agents and dear friends. Even when Lockwood had seemed determined to thwart her best efforts, they all managed to keep surviving.
She had made it to eighteen years old, which was a miracle in itself. Many of her fellow agents didn’t even make it close to that milestone age, their stories cut way too short. The anniversary of the mill incident was a somber day every year, reminding her of everything she had lost.
It was easier to mourn the friends who were truly gone, the ones that were buried back in her hometown. There was a finality to their fates that didn’t extend to Norrie White.
No matter the time or distance, thinking of Norrie always brought on an ache deep in her chest. She had been her best friend, the first person to show her what love and care looked like.
Her first kiss. Her first love.
It was because of Norrie that Lucy knew what she was feeling when she started falling for Lockwood. At the time of the mill incident, Lucy and Norrie had only just started to explore what they truly meant to each other. But the flutters she felt when he looked at her and the pull she had to be near to him were the same.
As the years went on and she made it through several birthdays while at Lockwood and Co., Lucy realized that she had been secretly holding onto the possibility of Norrie waking up. She knew that Norrie wasn’t living, not really. But she was alive, she was breathing. There was always a tiny bit of hope that she might return.
That they would collapse again in fits of laughter. That Norrie would paint her nails and talk about all the things they would do together as hotshot agents. That this dream of theirs that she was living out would become a shared reality.
There was guilt, of course there was. That Lucy was living, breathing, finding joy in small moments with her found family. She had confided in Lockwood on that first anniversary, telling him about her budding relationship with Norrie that had been cut short.
It had taken time for them to open up to each other, to lay bare their losses and trauma for the other to see. Each glimpse into Lockwood’s past was a gift, a vulnerability that he only showed to Lucy. She did the same in return, the full story of what happened at the mill and its aftermath pouring out of her.
He was there when the call came, Norrie’s mother gruffly informing her of her daughter’s passing. There would be a private burial, family only. Lockwood had trembled with barely-contained rage when Lucy had explained after hanging up.
“You are her family,” he insisted, rubbing soothing circles into her back as the sobs came.
So when an unexpected package addressed to Lucy was delivered to Portland Row, she went in search of Lockwood for support while opening it. There was no return address, but she recognized the postmarks that meant it had come from her hometown up north.
A mystery package from back home was probably not going to be pleasant for Lucy, even without the strong psychical energy she could feel through the cardboard. She found both Lockwood and George in the library, each engrossed in their reading.
Lockwood raised his eyes as she entered, automatically noticing the concerned look on her face.
“Hey, Luce,” he called, beckoning her closer. “What’s that?”
“You can feel it, right?” she asked with a sigh, sitting down on the couch. “Even through the packaging.”
Lucy stared down at the box in her lap, as if she’d be able to see through it. She didn’t even realize that her hands were shaking until Lockwood joined her on the sofa, gently taking the package from her.
“No return address,” he observed. “Who’s sending you sources through the post?”
That caught George’s attention, his gaze leaving his book to glance at the box.
“You think it’s a source?” Lucy whispered. “Oh, no.”
A heavy feeling settled in her gut, and she suddenly knew what she’d see even before she opened it.
“Norrie,” came the broken whisper as she pried it open, taking out a silver jewelry box.
A shiver ran through her, and she knew without a doubt that Norrie’s source was contained within it.
“Be careful,” George warned, standing up to join them. “If that’s a source-”
“It’s not the box itself,” she said quietly. “It’s inside.”
Lucy set the jewelry box gingerly on the coffee table, hands twisting the sleeves of her jumper nervously. She didn’t miss the worried look Lockwood exchanged with George.
“I can take it to the furnaces,” George offered tentatively.
“No!” Lucy shouted, snatching it back up. “It’s all I have left of her, you can’t.”
“It’s alright, we won’t make any drastic decisions just yet,” Lockwood interjected. “Right, George?”
George nodded, putting his hands up and stepping away from the box. Lucy breathed out a sigh of relief. She carefully opened the box, confirming her suspicions. It wasn’t dark yet, but the energy was strong enough to make her snap it shut again.
“Lucy,” Lockwood said gently, “what’s inside?”
“A bracelet,” she said hoarsely. “She saved up to get it for me, for my birthday. It was - she was the first person to give me something new as a present.”
Her eyes were trained on the floor, grateful that she didn’t have to explain her parents’ shortcomings. They already knew, and could fill in the blanks easily enough.
“It was the kind that you’re meant to add charms to, but we couldn’t afford them,” Lucy continued. “So we made them. And then it represented both of us, so we took turns wearing it. Norrie was…she was wearing it, at the mill, and when I visited her, it was still on her. I’m guessing she still had it on when she…”
Lockwood sucked in a sharp breath, reaching for her hand. She took it, latching onto it like an anchor. In front of them, George ran his hand through his already unruly curls, glancing between the box and Lucy.
“But who would send an active source in the mail?” he asked in that blunt way of his.
Lucy gave him a brittle smile, shaking her head.
“I have a few guesses, but it doesn’t matter,” she said softly. “I know this was probably sent to harm me, but maybe it’s a chance for me to say goodbye.”
“To say…oh no, definitely not,” George said sharply. “Lockwood, tell her she can’t.”
“It’s Lucy’s decision,” he answered. “But, Luce - you need to know that seeing someone you loved as a ghost, it’s not…it won’t really be Norrie.”
Lucy heard the unspoken words loud and clear. Lockwood had shared with them that after his parents were killed, they had become his first ghosts. He had been so young, the experience forever changing him.
“Not to mention dangerous,” George added. “Do I need to remind you both about Annabelle Ward?”
Biting her lip in thought, Lucy stared at the jewelry box as if it would tell her the answer. Her knee bounced erratically until Lockwood placed a comforting hand on it. That touch grounded her, and she took a deep breath before speaking.
“I want to say goodbye,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady. “I know it’s risky, but I’ll stand in an iron circle and you both can be nearby in case something goes wrong."
George opened his mouth to protest but Lucy cut him off.
“Before you say anything else about disposing of the source, George, I promise it will go straight to the furnaces after. I just…this is my only chance. I have to try.”
Resigned, George nodded and then left to heat up dinner, since it wouldn’t be dark for a few hours. Once they were alone, Lockwood turned to her, brows knit with concern.
“Whatever happens tonight, I’m going to be right there, okay?” he said softly, his hand moving from her knee to cup her cheek.
Lucy nodded and leaned into his touch, swallowing thickly. He always was there for her, and she was thankful that he was trusting her with this.
Dinner was a quiet affair. Lucy was lost in thought, flipping between memories of Norrie and worries about what she might see that night.
True to their word, George and Lockwood set up an iron circle for her in the library. Lockwood stood with her inside it, rapier at the ready. George took up his position outside the door, wanting to give Lucy privacy but be close in case they needed help.
Lucy took a steady breath before stepping out of the circle, opening the jewelry box and carefully picking up the bracelet. It was cold to the touch, but the weight of it was familiar in her hand. She set it down gently on the floor before stepping back into the circle.
And they waited. Lockwood stood a few paces behind her, his presence giving her courage to draw on as an apparition slowly appeared before them.
Her breath caught on a gasp as she beheld Norrie, standing before her looking like she had before she was ghost locked. Lucy reminded herself that this wasn’t really Norrie, that the figure before her couldn’t hold her hand or even speak with her.
As Lucy watched the ghost, she was glad that it hadn’t reflected the changes Norrie had gone through while lying in bed in her locked state. The sunken eyes and skin, hair grown haggard and limp.
She had visited only once, and Norrie had started trembling so badly that her mother had forbidden Lucy from coming back, though she agreed to still play her tapes. Over the years that followed, Lucy had clung to the thought that Norrie had been aware of her presence that day. And maybe she heard the tapes and knew just how much Lucy loved her.
But this Norrie, despite the ghostly pallor, reflected her friend much more closely than the one stuck in bed. It was almost like she could reach out and touch her, but Lucy held her hands clenched firmly at her sides, knowing she couldn’t.
Lockwood hadn’t said anything, and she knew that he could see Norrie just as clearly as she could. Probably even better, given his superior Sight. She tried to push down the emotion in her throat at the thought that this was the only way they would ever meet.
Two of the most important people in her life, who had shown her that she was deserving of love.
Norrie seemed to be watching them just as intently, ghostly eyes flicking between the two of them. Suddenly she walked forward, or as close to walking as she could in her state. Hovering just outside of the iron barrier, Norrie peered up at Lockwood, as if she was studying him.
“You’re right, he is handsome,” a voice said that sounded suspiciously like Norrie’s had.
It took Lucy a moment to register what she had heard, staring at Norrie in shock as she came back to face her.
“I - you - what?” she said dumbly.
Maybe she had just heard a death loop, that would make sense. Anything would make more sense than…
“Come on, Lucy. You’re smarter than this,” Norrie quipped.
And, yep, that was Norrie alright.
“You’re really - it’s really you,” Lucy whispered.
She felt Lockwood step closer to her, his hand pulling her further back into the circle.
“Luce, is she…” he trailed off as Norrie once again focused her gaze on him.
“You can tell him I’m staring at him to see if he’s worthy of you,” Norrie announced.
“Yeah, she’s talking to me,” Lucy said instead of passing on the message.
“So this is the famous Anthony Lockwood,” Norrie said with a smirk. “I suppose he’ll do, he’s protective of you and definitely not bad to look at.”
“You don’t - didn’t - even like boys!” Lucy protested, for a moment forgetting that she was talking to a ghost.
“Yeah, but you do. Especially this one.”
Even though she knew that Lockwood couldn’t hear Norrie’s side of the conversation, Lucy still felt her cheeks redden.
“Wait - you knew his name. Does that mean that you heard my tapes?”
Lockwood’s eyes widened at that. They glanced at each other, knowing that George would be furious with them if they didn’t give him this opportunity. Lucy nodded, and Lockwood called for him to come in.
“Everything’s fine,” Lockwood said quickly as George joined them in the circle. “We just knew you’d want to see this.”
As it was, George’s Talents had never been the strongest, and he could only just See the form of Norrie hovering above them. Lucy took his arm and brought him closer.
“She’s a Type Three, George. And she heard my tapes while she was ghost locked,” Lucy said, watching George’s face as he processed that information. “George Karim, this is Norrie White. Norrie, this is George.”
“The researcher! Still doing experiments on that Skull?” Norrie asked pointedly. “You won’t be doing anything like that with me.”
Lucy repeated her words, causing George to blanch and Lockwood to let out a short laugh.
“Oh, no, of course not,” George stammered nervously. “But, Lucy - this can’t change anything.”
“Not now, George,” Lucy hissed, but Norrie shook her head.
“He’s right. He can ask me his questions, and then I want to say a proper goodbye to you, Lucy,” Norrie said softly. “But after that, I need you to let me go.”
Lucy’s mouth opened and closed but words wouldn’t come out. She felt Lockwood grip her hand, even though he couldn’t hear what Norrie had said, and she squeezed back.
That had been the plan all along, to destroy the source. But that was before Lucy knew that she could really talk to Norrie. Could she really just throw the bracelet into the furnaces, knowing that?
Norrie must have guessed what Lucy was thinking because she shook her head emphatically.
“No, Lucy. I spent too much time in between life and death,” she explained. “I don’t know exactly what waits for me on the Other Side but I don’t want to linger here, not like this.”
Lucy’s cheeks were wet with tears that she hadn’t realized she’d shed.
“What’s she saying, Lucy?” George asked, trying to keep the curiosity out of his voice but she knew better.
“She wants us to destroy the bracelet after we say goodbye,” Lucy explained, tears stalling for the moment. “She - she’s ready to pass through.”
Norrie smiled at her, and it looked so much like the Norrie she had known that her chest ached with it. She smiled back, and didn’t notice that George had left the circle until she heard the door click shut.
“Wait, didn’t he want to ask her questions?” Lucy turned to Lockwood in confusion.
He shook his head, giving her a gentle smile.
“No, he wanted to respect your last moments together. And so do I.” Lockwood gave her hand one last squeeze before letting go and stepping out of the circle. “I’ll be just outside the door.”
“Thank you,” Lucy whispered.
“They really trust you,” Norrie said once they were alone. “Leaving you alone with a Type Three.”
She tried to sound threatening but it dissolved into a giggle, and Lucy laughed with her.
“I know you’d never hurt me,” she said, turning serious again. “Even though-”
Lucy’s voice broke off, a sob escaping her. Norrie frowned, drifting closer to the chains.
“Even though what?” she pressed.
“Even though it’s my fault,” Lucy gasped out, tears falling again in earnest. “You, Paul, everyone we lost that day. I could have done more, should have been able to just fucking do something, anything.”
Her shoulders shook, the grief she had tried for so long to tamp down bubbling up. Norrie shook her head emphatically, reaching her hand out before catching herself and drawing it back.
“No, Lucy,” Norrie said firmly. “None of it was your fault. If anyone’s to blame it’s Jacobs, but the whole damn system is really at fault.”
Lucy nodded, logically she knew that Jacobs’ neglect had led to the tragedy that had claimed her teammates’ lives. But she had spent the years since telling herself that if she had just been better , she might have been able to save them. To save Norrie.
“I couldn’t save you,” she choked out. “You saved me after I joined the agency, I was so lost and scared and you - you were everything to me. And I still couldn’t save you.”
“Maybe this is one last way that I can help you,” Norrie said softly, with so much emotion on her face that it was easy to forget she was a ghost. “I never once blamed you, love. And I know you worried about leaving me behind when you came here, but I was so, so proud of you for going.”
Lucy just Listened as she spoke, soaking in her words, voice, and palpable affection. Maybe it was a trick of her mind, letting her Hear Norrie’s voice as it had been, not distorted like the Skull’s. Either way, she clung to it, to the sound she had thought she’d never hear again in this life.
“This isn’t how I once imagined us both in London together,” Norrie continued with a sigh. “I never got the chance to come here and be a hot-shot London agent. But you did.”
“I never wanted to be a hot-shot anything,” Lucy mumbled, earning a laugh from Norrie.
And if hearing Norrie’s voice was a comfort, hearing her laugh was a balm to Lucy’s soul. She wanted to bottle that sound, so that she could listen and remember that once there had been a girl named Norrie who Lucy could make laugh.
“With your Talent you were never going to hide in the shadows for very long, even if you wanted to. I always knew you were special, Lucy,” Norrie said fondly. “And not just because of how Talented you are. Here, maybe I can show you. Close your eyes.”
Lucy wanted to argue that she couldn’t, not when their time together would be over so quickly. It wasn’t Norrie in front of her, not really, but this was the closest she’d ever get to seeing her living and breathing again. But she also couldn’t bring herself to say no, to deny her any last requests.
So she closed her eyes, and Norrie drifted even closer, speaking softly as if into Lucy’s ear. With her words, Norrie conjured up images of her favorite moments with Lucy. From the first time they saw each other to their first successful case together. The first time they fell asleep together, curled around each other on top of the covers.
The first time Norrie admitted her feelings went beyond that of friendship, as she was painting Lucy’s nails and realized that she didn’t want to let go of her hand. Lucy hadn’t wanted to let go, either, and that day marked the start of their budding relationship.
They couldn’t be “out,” as Norrie had called it, not with the likelihood of gossip getting back to Lucy’s mother. No, the moments they stole together were just for them, no one else knowing about them until Lucy told Lockwood years later.
“And then walking back from the pub, you kept looking at me and then blushing when I caught you,” Norrie continued. “When we got back to my room I asked you what was wrong, and you shook your head and kissed me.”
It had been pretty close to perfect, as first kisses went. Lucy pressed her hand to her lips at the memory, imagining it was Norrie’s lips against hers once more. Opening her eyes, she saw Norrie mirroring the motion before moving her hand to the place where her heart would have been.
Lucy’s own heart ached, but it wasn’t all sadness. It was bittersweet, remembering their all too short time together. What they’d shared had been beautiful, and she couldn’t help wondering what might have been if they had been given more time.
“You’ll always be here,” Lucy said, tapping the skin above her own heart. “You’ve always been such a big part of my heart, and that won’t change.”
Norrie nodded, offering her a sad smile. Lucy felt that their time was drawing to a close, but she wanted to hold on tightly, just for a little while longer.
“Listening to your tapes, it was comforting to know that you had people here looking out for you. You have a family here, Lucy. You’ve made a home for yourself, and I’m so proud of you for that.” Norrie paused, meeting Lucy’s eyes before continuing. “You were the love of my life, you know that?”
The tears kept falling and Lucy tasted salt as she sniffed, trying to hold herself together.
“You’re mine, too.”
“No, Lucy. I wasn’t, but he’s standing just outside that door.” Norrie tilted her head towards the library door to emphasize her words.
Lucy found that she couldn’t argue with that. It hurt, to acknowledge that she had been able to move on with her life while Norrie had remained stuck. But Norrie didn’t seem resentful about it, just resigned.
“But I was your first love, and that’s special, too,” Norrie said after a moment. “We didn’t have nearly enough time together. But you have time now, and a chance at a full life. You just need to take it.”
That had Lucy staring at her for a moment, not understanding. She was living her life fully, wasn’t she?
“I’m talking about Anthony,” Norrie said with an eye roll. “He’s right there, and you’re still holding yourself at arms’ length.
“You’re on a first name basis with Lockwood now?” Lucy tried to tease but it fell flat.
“No, but you should be,” Norrie responded pointedly. “It’s obvious that he’s just as in love with you as you are with him. I thought maybe you’d have gotten together by now.”
So did Lucy. She sighed, glancing at the door and then back at Norrie. It had been years now of back and forth with Lockwood, of thinking they’d reached the point of letting each other in fully. Something held her back from taking that step forward, and of course Norrie saw it.
“If you won’t do it for yourself, do it for me?” Norrie pleaded. “I know it’s hard for you to take things for yourself, to accept that you deserve good things. I had half a mind to stay and haunt your sorry excuse of a mother for making you feel so unworthy.”
Lucy snorted at the mental image that produced. Norrie had been the first person that Lucy had truly confided in about her home life. While her own family hadn’t been perfect, she had been appalled at the extent of the abuse in the Carlyle household. She became fiercely protective of Lucy, something that she had in common with Lockwood.
Lucy tried to answer her but couldn’t, her throat felt too tight. There was just too much, she felt too many things at once. Love and grief and regret and pain for Norrie, love and worry for Lockwood and a hopeful apprehension for what she could have with him.
“Promise me that you won’t waste your time together?” Norrie asked as Lucy struggled to find her words. “You never know how long you’ll have, so you might as well start now.”
“I promise,” came Lucy’s whisper, finally. “I’ve just been scared.”
Norrie came as close as she could, holding her hands down, palms up. Lucy mirrored her, at a safe distance, but near enough that she could almost feel the weight of Norrie’s hands on her own.
“You’ve faced some pretty scary things, Lucy Carlyle,” Norrie said with a soft smile. “I think you can handle letting yourself be loved by Anthony Lockwood.”
Lucy nodded, a hiccup escaping her from crying so much.
“Oh, one more thing. Please don’t name one of your children after me,” Norrie added drily. “You know I’ve always hated my name.”
“I like your name,” Lucy said wistfully.
She didn’t correct Norrie and tell her that she still didn’t want children. Somehow Norrie could tell that things had shifted and the thought of having kids one day didn’t scare Lucy like it once would have.
“I suppose Noreen would be okay,” she conceded, referring to the long-dead great-grandmother she had been named after. “But only as a middle name.”
“Deal,” Lucy said, wishing they could shake on it like they used to.
They stood in silence for a few moments, neither wanting their time together to end. But it had to, and Lucy wanted to respect Norrie’s wishes at not being kept in between worlds. Norrie caught Lucy’s eye and nodded, glancing at the bracelet on the floor.
“There should be something else in the box, and I don’t think it’s connected to me.” She nodded at the box and Lucy bent forward to pick it up, retrieving a single stud earring.
It was a small black stone, from a set that Norrie had split with her, one for each of them. Lucy made sure that it had no psychic energy before reaching up and putting it in her ear.
“Beautiful.” Norrie smiled longingly at her. “I love you, Lucy. Never forget that.”
“I love you, too,” Lucy whispered. “I always will.”
Norrie disappeared before they could actually say goodbye, but that didn’t surprise Lucy. They had both always hated goodbyes, preferring to stick to see you later. But now there truly would be no later, not for them.
“Goodbye, Norrie.”
With a sigh, Lucy put the bracelet back in the box and snapped it shut. The ghostly energy in the room dissipated, and Lucy fell to her knees with a dull thud. She didn’t feel the pain from the impact, her body doubling over with the force of her sobs.
Lockwood burst back into the room, dropping to the floor beside Lucy immediately.
“Lucy, darling, are you hurt?” His hands ran over her arms and back, checking for signs of ghost touch.
She shook her head, lifting her face so he could see the sorrow there. If she was thinking more clearly she would have picked up on his term of endearment.
“Oh, Luce,” he whispered, gathering her into his arms.
Lucy resisted for just a moment before giving in and melting into him, letting him enfold her fully in his embrace. Her fingers gripped his dress shirt tightly, probably wrinkling the fine material. Lockwood just held her tighter, rocking her gently as she cried.
She didn’t know how much time had passed until George cracked open the door. Still holding her tightly, Lockwood conversed with him in hushed tones.
“Luce, do you want George to take the bracelet to the furnaces?” he asked, tucking her hair behind her ear.
“I can go,” she tried to insist, but her voice came out rough from crying.
“Let me do it, Lucy. It’s raining out anyway. This way you can stay inside with Lockwood, warm and dry.” George nodded at the window, where she could in fact see rain lashing against the glass.
She felt gratitude well up in her for George, who hated going out at night if he didn’t have to, especially alone. He would probably rather be at his desk with his research materials, but he was offering to do this for her.
“Okay. Thank you, George.”
“Of course,” George said with a small smile.
He hesitated for a moment before crouching down, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek. It was a rare display of affection for George, and she saw his face turning red as he made his hasty exit.
“Tea?” Lockwood asked, helping her stand up when she nodded.
They made their way to the kitchen, Lucy sitting down while Lockwood put the kettle on. He got out the tin of biscuits, pulling out two and handing them to her. She looked at him with a frown but he shook his head, smiling.
“George told me that you should have as many biscuits as you want, tonight.”
They had their tea and biscuits quietly, Lockwood watching her closely. She had a habit of fiddling with the necklace he had given her, and now her hand moved between the gem at her throat and the stud in her ear. It filled her with warmth to have something from both of her loves that she could keep close to her always.
Lockwood followed her hand with his eyes and asked softly about the earring.
“It was Norrie’s. I couldn’t keep the bracelet, but this way I have a little piece of her with me.” Lucy touched her necklace again before reaching for his hand. “Like I have a piece of you, close to my heart.”
She whispered the last part, and he leaned forward to hear her better. Her eyes took in his face, so full of love that she wondered how she had ever doubted it.
You could have all of me, his eyes said as he cupped her cheek in his hand once more. Lucy let out a little gasp as his fingers gently brushed down the tear tracks and over her lips before cradling her jaw. He searched her face, and she knew he was making sure he hadn’t overstepped. Her hand shot up to press against his, keeping it in place.
“I promised Norrie that I would live my life fully, for both of us. I didn’t get enough time with her, and I don’t want to waste any more time that I could have with you.”
It was so easy, so simple to close the small distance between them and press her lips to his. It felt so right to grip the hair at the back of his neck as he kissed her back. It was everything, and she wanted more, but not tonight.
She was bone-tired, emotionally exhausted and wrung out. But this was a start, one moment in a series of many for them that had come before and would come after. There was more to be said, and she wouldn’t wait too long. Her promise to Norrie would be fulfilled, just after she had gotten some sleep.
Lockwood pulled back, looking dazed with a soft smile on his lips. Lucy wanted to see that look on him every day, she decided. He saw how tired she was and gently guided her upstairs, pausing before the steps that led to the attic. Looking up at him, Lucy took a deep breath, interlacing their fingers.
“You could come up, if you wanted,” she said shyly. “I just - I would really love for you to hold me tonight.”
Lockwood smiled and pulled her close.
“Of course, Luce. I’ll hold you every night, if you let me.”
As they got settled in her bed, her head resting on his chest, Lucy wished that she could tell Norrie that she was taking her advice. With a start she realized that she still could, in a way, and resolved to record a tape in the morning.