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A shrill ringing woke Lockwood from his doze in the library. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep, just to close his eyes for a moment. After returning home from his solo case, he had made himself some tea and settled in his favorite armchair to wait for George and Lucy.
He had expected to be the first back at Portland Row. His case was much simpler, and the others were working closely with a team from Fittes and DEPRAC agents on theirs. Even if the case had been resolved quickly, which was unlikely, they would be stuck dealing with reporting and other bureaucratic nonsense before being allowed to go home.
Glancing at his watch, Lockwood was alarmed to find he had slept for several hours. Almost tripping over his feet in his rush to get to the phone, he finally answered with a breathless, automatic “Anthony Lockwood of Lockwood and Co.”
At first all he heard on the other end of the phone were the screeches of sirens, which did nothing to calm the panic skittering through his veins. Something was wrong, he knew it even before Barnes spoke.
“Lockwood, I need you to get down here as quickly as possible. Do you have the address?”
He had so many questions, but answered that he did and would leave right away. The call disconnected before Lockwood could get any information that would ease his mind in the meantime.
So he found himself calling a night cab, one of the more expensive but reliable private companies. George would give him a hard time about it if everything turned out to be fine, but it was a risk he had to take. He had to know if they were okay.
The cab ride was torturous, Lockwood’s fingers digging into his thighs through his trousers. It was all he could do to keep from opening the partition and demanding that the driver go faster.
Didn’t he understand that Lockwood’s family could be in danger?
That thought brought him up short. His family. He hadn’t had one, not a living one anyway, for long enough that he never considered the possibility of that changing. But it had, as his carefully guarded heart opened up to first George and then Lucy.
Did they know how much they meant to him? Had he ever told them? He didn’t know, and the thought had bile crawling up his throat. If they were hurt, or worse…
No. He couldn’t think that way. Barnes had been cryptic and short with him but that was nothing new. Lockwood would be there soon, and he would find them both laughing at his overreaction.
Either way, Lockwood resolved that he would tell them. George had to know that he was the best friend Lockwood could have ever asked for, the brother that never had.
And Lucy…
It was more complicated with Lucy, to be sure. She was also his dearest friend, but she was so much more than that. God, he just needed the chance to tell her.
The cab had barely pulled up before Lockwood was out of the car, moving towards the gathered DEPRAC agents and medics. He blew right past the yellow caution tape, eyes moving frantically over the clusters of people.
The case had involved an old, underground bunker that led to a tunnel. George had been the one to recreate maps of the place, which is why he had been needed onsite. They had determined that Lucy’s Talents would be the most useful, but Lockwood cursed himself now.
He should have insisted, should have never sent them into the field without him.
A hand on his elbow had him almost jumping out of his skin. Whipping around, Lockwood came face to face with George, looking a little rumpled and dusty but otherwise fine.
“Oh, thank god,” Lockwood whispered, pulling him into an uncharacteristic hug.
For once, George didn’t resist the physical contact. After a moment he pulled back and Lockwood cleared his throat. His eyes were still wildly searching the crowd, needing to know whether or not Lucy was okay as well.
“Everything was going fine until a portion of the tunnel caved in,” George explained, leading him forward.
Towards what, Lockwood had no idea. He tried to focus on George’s words but one thought drowned everything else out.
Lucy, Lucy, Lucy.
“George, you can fill me in later,” he interrupted. “Where is Lucy?”
Lockwood tried to hide the panic from his voice but knew he failed. They had reached one of the groups of medics huddled around a stretcher. He couldn’t see the person’s face, just some short, auburn hair and a blue leather jacket.
Lucy’s jacket.
Lucy, on a stretcher, unmoving. He choked, grasping George’s arm tightly. It was happening again, he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think.
He couldn’t lose her.
“Hey, it’s okay,” George looked at him apologetically. “I’m sorry, I’m a little shaken up. That’s not Lucy, I’m taking you to her now.”
“But - her jacket-” Lockwood gasped out, unable to tear his eyes away.
“She lent it to Sophie, one of the Fittes girls. We’ll explain everything, I promise.”
As they veered past the stretcher, he finally saw Lucy, sitting on a folding chair and talking to Barnes. She looked like she was fine, but he had to be sure.
“Luce,” he gasped out, closing the distance between them with his long strides.
Ignoring Barnes for the moment, he crouched down in front of her. She was just as dusty as George if not more so, and she coughed a bit before she could speak.
Barnes took one look at Lockwood and sigh apologetically.
“When I called you, we hadn’t been able to get them out yet,” the inspector explained. “Mr. Karim was able to find an alternate exit just after I hung up, and I knew you’d already be on your way here.”
Lockwood was only half listening, his hands brushing Lucy’s hair out of her face, checking her for injuries.
“I’m alright,” she whispered, voice hoarse. “I’m more worried about Sophie than anything.”
And of course her own physical well-being wasn’t her priority. He opened his mouth to tell her that the other girl would be fine, but he actually had no idea. She hadn’t looked fine. George sighed and shook his head.
“She’s with the medics now, they’re going to bring her to hospital,” he said gently. “Now that Lockwood’s here, will you let them check you over?”
“She hasn’t been checked?” Lockwood snapped, looking at Barnes.
“Easy, she refused to leave Miss Harper’s side until they got her stabilized.”
His tone was meant to be reassuring, but Lucy was looking paler the more Lockwood watched her. She was also trembling now, whether from the shock or adrenaline or worse, he didn’t know.
“We almost didn’t - there was another visitor down there that we hadn’t expected and she - she jumped in front of me,” Lucy gasped out, her breathing becoming irregular.
Lockwood rubbed his hands up and down her arms, trying to soothe her. To his horror, as his fingers brushed the fabric of her jumper he felt a sticky wetness. Leaning back, he confirmed that his fingertips were stained a dark red.
“It’s not mine,” Lucy said, shaking her head. “I didn’t get hurt, Sophie did. It’s not my blood,
But now he could see that her jumper was soaked through the right side, blending in with the dark fabric until he looked closer.
“Luce,” he whispered, terrified.
“That’s a lot of blood,” George observed in the matter of fact way of his, but Lockwood detected the fear under the surface. “Medic! We need a medic here.”
His shout was ragged but loud enough that a few of the medical personnel who had been focused on Sophie ran over.
“I told you, it’s not mine,” she insisted, but her voice was growing weaker.
Just as the medics arrived next to them, her eyes closed and she slumped forward. Lockwood caught her instantly, easing her down to the ground. Her head lay in his lap as she was examined. He didn’t notice Barnes’ frown as he broke away from them.
Heart pounding so loudly it almost drowned everything else out, he smoothed her sweat-slicked hair back from her face. A medic cut away the fabric of her jumper that was sticking to the wound, and all he could think was he would get her as many new blue jumpers as she wanted.
She just had to make it through.
Though she was still unconscious, her body jerked as they tried to stop the bleeding. He murmured in her ear that he was there, that she was going to be okay, but he wasn’t sure if he believed it.
Meanwhile, George was grilling the medics and DEPRAC agents, trying to figure out what had happened.
“How in the world did she get stabbed down there? Sophie was ghost touched, her injury makes sense.”
“Mr. Karim, we’re still reviewing the night’s events-”
“Don’t give me that bullshit!” he spat, and Lockwood vaguely registered that he’d never heard George sound so angry. “Lucy is gravely injured, something that your team failed to realize when they rescued her. Who knows how much blood she’s lost?”
“I’ll take it from here,” came Barnes’ voice as he joined them again. “Lockwood, join me and Mr. Karim for a moment.”
Lockwood shook his head violently at the idea of leaving Lucy’s side, but the medics were ready to transfer her. They assured him that she was stable for now, as they got her hooked up to oxygen and who knew what else.
He stood up reluctantly, eyes fixed on Lucy even as Barnes began to speak.
“I’m still figuring out the details, and I will get to the bottom of this. But it looks like we were fed some bad information, which is why we didn’t know about the extra room, the faulty ceiling, or the extra ghost.” He spoke quickly, knowing they would want to get back to Lucy as soon as possible. “The room that Miss Carlyle and Miss Harper fell into due to the collapse was filled with antique weaponry. We think that she literally fell onto one of the swords, but didn’t notice as she was trying to save Miss Harper from the Visitor.”
George nodded solemnly, and Lockwood was glad that he was able to take in the information. He wanted to understand what had happened as well, but he couldn’t focus on anything until he knew Lucy was out of danger. His hands were shaking uncontrollably, and Barnes flashed him a look filled with pity.
He didn’t want pity. He wanted Lucy, safe and warm and breathing in his arms.
Unable to wait any longer, Lockwood pushed past them to where Lucy was being loaded into the back of an ambulance.
“We’ve called ahead so they know to expect her,” one of the medics was saying, but he couldn’t respond.
Not when Lucy looked so small and helpless, lying immobile on the gurney. Without a second thought, he began to climb in after her, only to be stopped a moment later.
“Sir, you can’t ride in here with her. You are welcome to follow behind us in a cab.”
“Let him ride with her, Davis,” Barnes said as he appeared behind them. “Trust me, it’s easier than trying to stop him.”
Lockwood breathed a sigh of relief and ducked inside, taking a seat and covering one of Lucy’s hands with both of his own. He met George’s eyes, seeing how worried he was, too.
“I’ll take you, Karim,” Barnes offered. “We’ll be right behind you.”
Later, Lockwood couldn’t recall the ambulance ride. He knew that he held Lucy’s hand the entire time, eyes never leaving her face. Even obscured by the oxygen mask, she was still so beautiful.
Had he ever told her how beautiful she was? He would do anything to get that chance.
Things came back into focus when they arrived at the hospital and he couldn’t follow her past the main doors. Thankfully George and Barnes arrived just in time to steer him into the waiting room, the receptionist giving them a grateful look.
Lockwood refused to sit down, instead pacing back and forth, trying not to look at his bloodstained hands. At Lucy’s blood on his hands.
Barnes and George filled out the paperwork, with Lockwood signing as her de facto next of kin. He managed to keep his hand steady enough to sign his name before resuming his pacing.
He didn’t know how much time had passed before a nurse came out and called him over. With an encouraging nod from George he approached her, watching her eyes widen at his appearance. Confused, he looked down at himself to find that his dress shirt was splattered with blood.
Lucy’s words flashed in his mind - it’s not mine.
“Miss Carlyle is in stable condition,” the nurse finally said. “She needed a blood transfusion, but no organs were damaged so she didn’t need surgery as we had initially thought. We’ve stitched up her side and given her some pretty strong pain medicine, so she’ll be resting for a while.”
Lockwood nodded automatically, throat working as he tried to respond. He was relieved to hear she was okay, but he wouldn’t truly be able to believe it until he saw her with his own eyes.
“That’s - that’s good to hear,” he finally said. “Can I - when can I see her?”
His voice was so hopeful that the tired nurse’s eyes softened.
“Give her a few hours to rest, love. Why don’t you clean up in the meantime?” she suggested.
“If I clean myself up, can I sit with her while she sleeps?” he tried.
The nurse sighed, looking over his shoulder at Barnes. He came forward, and Lockwood repeated his request. He saw her eye Barnes’ DEPRAC badge and the rapier still on Lockwood’s hip.
“Alright. But don’t disturb her. She has to rest.”
Sometimes being an agent had its perks, he thought with a shrug. They walked back over to George and Lockwood filled them both in. He looked back down at himself, unsure of what to do about his stained shirt.
“I’ve got something in the car you can change into, I’ll be right back,” Barnes offered helpfully.
Lockwood finally sank into a chair next to George, resting his head in his hands.
“She’s going to be okay,” George reassured him with a slightly awkward pat on the arm.
“I know, I’ll just - I’ll feel better when I see her.”
Barnes returned and handed Lockwood a shirt from last year’s DEPRAC charity football tournament. He mumbled his thanks and headed to the bathroom, grateful that it was a single stall.
As he clicked the lock closed he exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. Plodding over to the sink, he turned the water as hot as it would go. Trying not to notice the soapy water turning pink and then deep red, he scrubbed until his hands were raw. Until he couldn’t see Lucy’s blood on them anymore.
He turned the water to cold and splashed some on his face before unbuttoning his shirt. Deciding it probably wasn’t salvageable, even with George’s expert stain removal skills, he tossed it into the bin. Shrugging on the shirt Barnes had given him, he exited the bathroom and went straight for the receptionist.
Once Lockwood reached Lucy’s room, he entered as quietly as possible. And even though he knew that she was just sleeping, his heart broke all over again.
It was hard to see her hooked up to all of the tubes and monitors, her face drawn and pale. The beeping of the heart monitor annoyed him at first, until he realized that it was telling him that Lucy’s heart was alive and beating. Then it calmed him, as did watching the rise and fall of the blanket with each breath.
Lockwood moved a chair as close to the bed as possible, reaching for her hand that wasn’t hooked up to the I.V.
Her hand was cold, as it usually was. He held it between both of his hands, rubbing gently to warm it up. Leaning forward, he pressed his lips to the back of her hand in a gentle kiss. He let his lips linger against her soft skin, breathing in the scent of her lavender moisturizer that he could just barely detect underneath the hospital antiseptic smell.
As he pulled back, Lockwood’s gaze caught on the hospital bracelet around her wrist. For some reason seeing her name written there was the final straw for him, and he broke down.
Lockwood couldn’t remember the last time he had cried in front of anyone. After experiencing so much loss and facing countless horrors day after day, he didn’t cry much at all anymore. At some point he figured he was just wrung out.
But now his tears fell in earnest, shoulders shaking. He decided not to fight it, holding fast to her hand as he sobbed.
“God, Luce,” he rasped as he caught his breath. “I really thought I was going to lose you. I don’t think I’ve ever been so scared in my entire life.”
He gave a humorless chuckle at that.
“But you’re okay. You’re going to wake up, and we’ll take you home to Portland Row. I’ll make you tea and toast and tell you how much I love you, over and over. I’m not letting another day go by without you knowing what you mean to me.”
Lockwood ran his free hand through his hair, watching her sweet face as she slept.
“You’re everything to me, Lucy. I didn’t think it was possible to love another person this much. I didn’t think I’d ever have that, but then you walked into my house and my life and I never want you to leave.”
He kissed her hand again. Her eyelids fluttered and he worried that he had woken her up, but she settled a moment later.
Hours passed, but Lockwood didn’t sleep. He couldn’t, not until Lucy was back in her bed at home. Nurses came and went as she slept, checking her vital signs. They didn’t make him step out, although he would have given her privacy if needed.
One nurse silently handed him a blanket like the one over Lucy, and he wrapped it around his shoulders gratefully. A little while later, George managed to sneak in, handing him a paper cup filled with weak tea.
“Figured you could use it,” George said quietly. “Barnes left, but I’ll be right in the waiting room. You’ll let me know when she’s awake?”
“Of course. They’ll kick me out, anyway.”
He tried to hide it, but George was visibly worried about Lucy, too. Lockwood still needed to get the full story of what exactly had happened on the case that night, but it could wait. George watched Lucy for a few minutes before taking his leave, and Lockwood resumed his vigil.
It wasn’t long after George left that Lockwood felt her hand move under his own. He thought he had imagined it at first, but then she squeezed his hand lightly.
“Lockwood?” Her voice was rough, but it was the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard.
His eyes met hers, tired and pained but so full of life.
“I’m here, Luce. I’m here.”