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Where do you go with your broken heart in tow?
What do you do with the leftover you?
And how do you know when to let go?
Where does the good go?
“Ready, Luce?” Lockwood asked, hand at his rapier.
She nodded and stepped forward, taking a deep breath to steady herself. The case was a nasty one, involving the deaths of two women in the very room she was about to step into.
The temperature had dropped and Lockwood had seen the two death glows. Lucy was fully expecting to be hit with psychical energy as she entered the room. To Hear the sounds of both women’s deaths, to Feel their sorrow and terror.
Instead she just got…nothing.
Frowning, Lucy made her way around the room, fingertips grazing over surfaces. There was nothing, no glimpses at the lives that had ended there. No screams, no warnings.
Lockwood’s footsteps sounded behind her as he joined her in the room, and she heard the swish of his rapier. She guessed that the ghosts had joined them, even though she couldn’t sense them.
“Got anything, Lucy?” he called, moving quickly around the room.
Trying to fight the panic threatening to take over, she uses her regular sight to glance around the room. It looked like it had been an office, which struck her as odd. Crimes of passion were usually committed in the bedroom, maybe the kitchen. But an office?
Feeling desperate, she marched over to the desk and yanked open the drawers, looking for anything that could be a source. She felt a slight tingle in her fingertips as they brushed over and envelope. Taking it out and gingerly peering inside, she saw that it contained divorce papers.
Hoping she was right, Lucy pulled a silver net from her pocket and draped it over the envelope.
“That’s one, good job!” Lockwood shouted.
Great. One down, one to go.
That must have been the first wife’s, she thought. Now she just needed to find the mistress turned second wife’s source. Then they could go home, and she would figure out whatever the hell was happening to her.
Lucy wasn’t stupid. She knew that she wasn’t getting younger. That they were working on borrowed time, her and Lockwood. Lasting into their twenties with their Talents.
But all of their friends that had lost their Talents had always described it as a gradual thing, a fading. Not waking up one day and finding it completely gone.
Shaking her head, Lucy continued her search. In her haste she knocked over a cup of pens, scattering them all over the floor. Cursing under her breath, she glanced at the mess around her, catching a glint amongst the pens.
She crouched down, finding a vintage letter opener. It didn’t give off much energy when she held it, but Lucy decided to try anyway. As soon as she had it encased in silver, she heard Lockwood’s exhale of relief.
“Fantastic,” he panted, reaching a hand down to help her up.
He searched her face, frowning in concern.
“You alright, Luce?”
“Yeah. Just ready to go home,” she mumbled.
Thankfully he didn’t question her further, and after a quick trip to the furnaces they were in a night cab on the way to Portland Row. Lucy spent the cab ride looking out the window, feeling Lockwood’s eyes on her.
She was grateful that he didn’t push her, that he knew her well enough to give her space. Well, metaphorical space, as they were still pressed together in the backseat with their fingers entwined.
George was still awake when they arrived back home. He put the kettle on and waited expectantly to hear about the case. Lucy collapsed heavily into a kitchen chair and gestured for Lockwood to explain.
She stared intently into her tea as he spoke, praising her for finding the sources. Glancing at George, she considered why this was so hard for her to admit. He’d all but lost his Talents and had taken a step back from active cases. But it suited him, focusing on research.
Lucy didn’t know who she was without her Talent, it had been such a big part of her for so long.
Once the tea was finished they headed to bed, and for the first time in ages Lucy considered going up to her old attic bedroom. The chance to curl up in a ball in private had its appeal, but she couldn’t do that to Lockwood. It would just make him worry.
So she went through the motions and got ready for bed, climbing into bed beside Lockwood. He reached for her and she moved closer to him, allowing him to wrap her in his arms. She had always felt the safest like this, and she let it calm her.
Lucy looked up at him, and he smiled, leaning down to kiss her. It was a sleepy, soft kiss, as she could tell how tired Lockwood was. She was exhausted too, but worried that her mind would keep her awake.
Sure enough, Lucy lay staring at the ceiling long after Lockwood had fallen asleep. She should have felt tired, but instead she just felt restless. And she needed to know for sure, if it was really gone.
As quietly as she could, she slipped out of bed and crept out of their bedroom. Her first thought was to make another cup of tea, but she bypassed the kettle and made her way into the basement.
It took her a moment fiddling with the lock on their storage area to get it open. She flicked on the overhead light, blinking in the sudden brightness. Her eyes moved over the shelves, filled with contained sources and other objects that they had collected in their work over the years.
Lucy picked up the watch that had been presented to her as part of her interview, years ago. Back then its sinister energy been instantly clear, but now it felt the same as holding the watch Lockwood wore every day.
“Fuck,” she whispered, even though no one could hear her all the way down there.
With a sigh she moved on to the next object, making her way along the shelf, not registering the tears that had started to fall.
Lockwood startled awake, not even remembering the nightmare that left his heart pounding. He reached for Lucy next to him, wanting to pull her close again, but his hands felt nothing besides the rumpled blankets.
With a frown he opened his eyes, taking in the empty space next to him. Glancing at the clock, he saw that it had only been a few hours since they had gone to bed. Thinking she might just be in the bathroom, he decided to wait a few minutes.
When she didn’t come in he pushed himself up, walking quietly past George’s room and down the stairs. He expected to find her in the kitchen over a late night cup of tea, a habit they both had when they couldn’t sleep. But she wasn’t there, so he checked the library next.
Coming up empty, he came back to the kitchen and noticed a light coming from the basement. What in the world was she doing down there in the middle of the night?
Lockwood half expected to find her in their training area, running through rapier drills. It wasn’t the worst way to burn off excess energy, although he could think of a few better ways. Frowning when he didn’t see her there or at her desk, he noticed that the door to the storage room was open.
He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t Lucy crumpled on the floor, surrounded by odds and ends from the shelves. She looked up and his heart sank, seeing the tears running down her face.
Lockwood crouched down, brushing his hand down her cheek.
“What’s wrong, love?” he asked quietly. “Are you hurt?”
Lucy shook her head, looking at the objects around her with wide eyes as if seeing them for the first time. She moved to gather them, which was probably the best course of action. None of them were active, but it was best not to risk it.
He helped her pick everything up, put each one back in silver and back on the shelf. George would have a conniption tomorrow at seeing everything out of place, but that was the least of Lockwood’s worries at that moment.
Turning back to her, he gathered her in his arms, resting his chin on top of her head.
“Now,” he murmured, rubbing her back soothingly. “Tell me what’s going on.”
He felt her take a shuddering breath before she spoke.
“It’s gone,” she whispered into his neck. “It’s all gone. I can’t Hear them, can’t Feel them anymore.”
Understanding washed over him and he held her tighter against him.
“Was that - tonight, something seemed wrong on the case,” he said slowly. “But you found the sources.”
“That was sheer luck,” she admitted. “I’m sorry I didn’t say anything, it just came out of nowhere.”
Lockwood processed the information, wondering if they might have caught it sooner had they been taking more frequent cases. As it was, it had been a week since Lucy had been on an active job.
“You could have gotten seriously hurt,” he said, feeling his jaw clench. “I wish you had said something. You know you don’t have to hide anything from me.”
“I knew it was coming, I just don’t know what to do now that it has.” She pulled back and settled against his chest with a sigh. “I can find another job, so I’ll still pull my weight around here. And I can help you find another Listener.”
“Hey, look at me,” he said softly, turning her so she faced him. “We’ve talked about this. It doesn’t change anything about your place here, you know that.”
“But you can’t take on the entire case load by yourself! What are we going to do?”
“We’re going to figure it out, but not at four in the morning. Come back to bed, Luce,” he pleaded.
She wiped at her eyes, nodding. Together they made their way back to their room. Lockwood settled against the headboard, knowing Lucy would probably need to talk more before they went back to sleep.
“I just - what happens now, Anthony? What do I do?” she burst out after a moment.
Lockwood leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead.
“What happens now is the rest of our lives,” he said, taking her hand in his.
Images raced through his brain, of the diamond ring burning a hole in his locked desk drawer. Of Portland Row filled with Lucy’s drawings, the garden overflowing with blooms. Of time, stretched out and laid before them.
“I know it’s terrifying to think of life after our Talents are gone, but I’m actually looking forward to it,” he admitted.
“Easy for you to say while you’ve still got your Sight,” Lucy muttered.
“It’s starting to fade, I’ve told you that.”
The death glows had gotten dimmer. He hadn’t needed his sunglasses in months. But Lockwood realized that it would be much more jarring to find that it was gone all at once.
“But what I meant was, I’m looking forward to it with you.” Lockwood cupped her cheek in his palm like she was the most precious thing he’d ever beheld.
And she was.
Lucy’s eyes searched his as if she didn’t quite believe him.
“I guess I just never let myself think that far into the future,” she said, voice hushed. “I mean, I’ve thought about it, in vague terms, with you.”
Lucy blushed at that, and he wondered if they’d thought about the same things. Lockwood leaned in to kiss her softly before pulling back with a yawn.
“I promise that we will figure everything out. I think we’ll have an easier time doing that if we get at least some sleep tonight, though.” He pulled her against him, sighing once she was resettled. “I love you, Luce. Nothing’s going to change that.”
She needed to know that she would always be his Lucy, Talent or not. It wasn’t her Talent that had made him fall for her to begin with, it was just her.
“I love you, too,” Lucy whispered, lips brushing against his bare chest. “Thank you for calming me down.”
Lockwood knew that it wasn’t simple, that one conversation wouldn’t solve everything. And that their positions would be reversed once his Sight left him for good. But like Lucy, he hadn’t spent a lot of time thinking about his future, life after ghost hunting, until recently at least. Because until he met her, he didn’t think he would have one.
They relaxed into each other, her fingers finding his. Lockwood gripped them tightly, pressing his lips to the crown of her head. As she drifted to sleep, he remembered a conversation they had had about how they had felt when their Talents first appeared.
Both of them had felt scared, and alone, for different reasons. He imagined that Lucy was feeling similarly now that her Talents were gone. But there was one major difference between then and now.
Now, they had each other. Now, she didn’t need to feel alone. Lockwood thought again of the ring and wondered if maybe it was finally the right time.