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They were surrounded on all three sides by Visitors, the only side open being a river at their backs. It was not an ideal situation, especially considering they had decidedly not been prepared for these numbers of ghosts since it was supposed to have been a simple haunted country manor needing clearing out case. As it turned out, that was decidedly not the case, and now they were all going to die.
"I don't suppose anyone's got any flares left?" Lockwood called back from where he was in front of the group, waving his rapier around in complex patterns in an effort to keep the various Phantasms and Spectres at bay. Either his rapier-swinging was more effective than they'd thought, or the running water was providing a bit of solace since something did seem to be keeping the Visitors at bay, at least for the time being. However, that time was quickly running out, each minutes that passed making the ghosts more bold and pushing them further and further to the edge of the drop to the water below.
"Sorry, fresh out," George said nervously, his sentiment echoed in both Holly and Lucy's voices as they two expressed variations of "negative" or "nope".
"Lovely. Salt? Filings? I'll take anything at this point."
"Lockwood, we're not making it out of this with our nonexistent equipment," George finally voiced what they all knew.
"Okay. New plan then. How's everyone's swimming capabilities?"
Holly's eyes widened as she looked at the back of Lockwood's head. "What?" She croaked, at the same time George said, "I can float well enough," and Lucy said, "You already know."
"I don't think I really have to waste time explaining my plan then, do I?"
"Hang on, wait. I can't swim," Holly admitted, voice squeaking a bit as she said so.
Lockwood glanced back at her. "Well, that might be a bit of a problem. I'm sure one of us can help you once we're in the water, or we'll figure something or the other out. But I'll leave the choice to you. Visitor or river?"
Holly looked around, at Lucy grabbing all their stuff, George zipping up his jacket and pulling up his pants while practicing breathing techniques, Lockwood, still waving around his rapier but evidently getting tired, and finally the horde of hazy Visitors surrounding them, coming closer every second. Her decision didn't take too long.
"River. Definitely river."
"Great. Everyone ready?"
"Uh-huh."
"Yep."
"No, but I don't have a choice."
"Lovely. We jump on three. Holly, grab my hand and hold on," - he extended his free arm behind him, Holly grabbing on tight. "Lucy, you take George's. That way at least if we get separated from the others, we hopefully still have one other person. Ready? Three…," - he backed up until he was in line with the others. "Two…," - he tucked in his rapier close to his body. "One…," - he finally turned his back on the Visitors, glancing down the line at the rest of his team and grinning as he shouted the next word.
"Jump!"
The water rushed up to meet them, the current taking hold of them the second they plunged into the river's depths. Lucy's hand slipped from George's as she was pulled under, head breaking the surface two seconds later just long enough for her to spot George's unruly mop of hair above the water before the river reclaimed her. It was all she could do to hold on to their equipment bags as the current tried to steal them from her, the same way it'd stolen George. She only hoped that Holly had managed to keep ahold of Lockwood, since George could still swim without her, but Holly couldn't without Lockwood.
As it turned out, George was actually managing, his puffy jacket surprisingly helping keep part of him above water, though it wasn't always his head and he was still tossed and spun around like a ball in a bingo cage.
Holly on the other hand was not doing much better. While she'd managed to keep ahold of Lockwood's hand even as the current threatened to rip her away from him, she was more confused than she'd ever been, not knowing which was was up, down, left, right, water, or air. All she could do was take quick gasping breaths whenever her head was above water for the few seconds it was and hold onto it until her lungs burned and she broke the surface again.
Pulled along with her was Lockwood. Not only did he have to take care to not impale himself on his own rapier which swung around madly with him - albeit with the current this time and not his own hand - he also had to keep track of Holly and try to keep her above the water. So far, he was doing a terrible job, but the current was slowing down a little as they went further down.
Once the initial shock of the sudden plunge into freezing water passed, his arms and legs started to work again, instinctively working to pull his head up to the air. He had to consciously remember to pull Holly along with him, even going so far as to push him above her. His lungs burned, though with lack of air or water in them, he didn't know. All he knew was he wasn't just responsible for himself, but also someone else now, someone he would put before himself because she was depending on him. By the time he popped up next to Holly, he too was gasping for air, even if it stung on its way down.
Now that the river was calmer, he could faintly see Lucy's ginger head somewhere in front of him, and somewhere near the bank beyond her, a lumpy shape that was either some unfortunate bag of trash that'd been washed up ashore, or a soggy George.
He followed Lucy's example and swam towards the bank, pulling Holly along behind him. His arms were growing heavy, his limbs swimming through honey instead of water now, and he was fighting to keep his eyes open.
Suddenly, hands grabbed him and helped drag him to shallower waters, where his legs could reach the ground and he could walk instead of needing to swim now. With the last of his strength, he pulled Holly from behind him and propelled her forward into Lucy and George's outstretched arms, dragging himself onto the shore after her.
For the next five minutes, they all just lay there, utterly exhausted and panting heavily, not moving except for when Lucy had to dive back into the water to grab one of their other supply bags that had drifted lazily down after them. All dripping wet and tired, it was a real effort when George moaned that they probably get up soon and go home.
After various grumbles, moans, groans and general complaints from all four of them, they managed to dredge themselves up. Out of the two equipment bags they had, Lucy offered to drag one, and Lockwood the other and slowly and painfully, they made their way to the closest lights they could see - a ghost lamp and some other lit-up windows of a few houses down the road. In reality, the walk shouldn't have been too far, but for them, it seemed to take forever and a half.
Two minutes in, Lockwood began to lag behind the others. All preoccupied with their own exhaustion, they didn't really notice until they heard a few nasty coughs - muffled, but still perfectly audible - from behind them.
Lucy paused, and turned to look at him, but it was Holly who had the energy to actually talk.
"You alright there, Lockwood?"
While her voice was level, there was still an undertone of concern in it that they could all hear. It mirrored their own feelings towards their usually peppy leader.
"I'm fine. I just… why don't you three go on ahead, I'll catch up later. I just need a little break." It didn't escape their notice that the words left him breathing a little too hard. Holly regarded him with narrowed eyes.
"Why don't we switch who's carrying the bags? Here, pass me yours. Luce, give yours to George," she suggested, already moving towards Lockwood, hand outstretched.
"I've got a better idea," George piped up. "Why don't we just stash the bags somewhere here and we come get them tomorrow? They're half-empty anyway, so if someone does steal 'em, we can easily just replace the chains. They were getting old as it was."
Another cough, another worried glance from three pairs of eyes. Holly considered.
"I suppose that could work. Either way, George, you and I are the ones who are going to drag them into those bushes there," she said, nodding her head to her left, where there were in fact some bushes perfect for hiding two duffel bags.
"Oh alright," George sulked, but took the strap of Lucy's bag anyway and started dragging it toward the bushes.
Lockwood and Lucy stayed together, watching the other two. Lockwood coughed again and Lucy walked over.
"You're sure you're alright? That sounds like a right nasty cough there," she said, eyebrows pulling together in concern.
Lockwood just offered a small smile, a mere shadow of his usual charming one. That in itself worried Lucy more. "I'm just tired. I'm sure I'll be fine after a good night's rest."
Lucy searched his face for anything that told her he was lying, but either he was hiding it really well, or he believed what he was saying.
"Okay…" she said slowly, but she didn't have time to push it since the other two returned, no bags in sight.
"Come on, let's get going," George panted. "As much as I hate this much walking, I just want to change out of these soaked clothes as soon as i can."
"But then change into dry ones at home, right?" Lucy asked after a few moments of silence except for another cough from Lockwood.
George frowned, eyes narrowed slightly. "Sure."
Lucy and Holly shuddered, but Lockwood seemed to be somewhere else completely. Lucy glanced at him once more.
"Either way, I think we should get going," she said, and then they were trudging on towards the village, shoes squelching as they did so.
They'd managed to make it to the village not long after, catching a night cab by some miracle, all of them feeling bad about dripping on the seats but not bad enough to get out. Holly fell asleep on the way, head resting against the door, while George chatted about something or other with the driver, just to break the silence with something other than Lockwood's seemingly worsening cough from the front seat. Lucy would have fallen asleep too, but worry over Lockwood prevented her from doing so, and she ended up spending most of the time just limp and exhausted in the seat.
By the time they pulled up outside of 35 Portland Row, they were all ready to just take quick warm showers and flop onto their beds and sleep. Holly had woken up a few streets away and the idea had been suggested that she take the guest room that night, clothes not being a problem either since she did keep an overnight bag at the house for occasions just like these. She'd reluctantly taken up the offer, wanting to go home to her shared flat with, but also being too exhausted to do much more than just call and let her roommate know the plan.
They all filed into the house slowly, George stumbling in first and rushing to claim the bathroom upstairs, followed by a yawning Holly, a soaked and freezing Lucy, and finally a half-dead-looking Lockwood. All Lucy could think about was a hot shower - provided George didn't use up all the hot water - dry clothes, and blissful , peaceful sleep.
She should have known better.
As she stepped onto the first step of the stairs, she opened her mouth to bid Lockwood goodnight, only to realise a draft was turning the back of her wet t-shirt to ice. She looked back, about to tell him to shut the door, only to see that he was still in the doorway, leaning heavily against the frame. Her demeanour pivoted along with her body, immediately noticing the way his eyes were downcast, and slightly unfocused, his breathing a little too audible and fast.
"Lockwood…?" She asked hesitantly, stepping back down onto the ground floor. "You okay?"
He barely seemed aware of her, and it was only now that Lucy took the time to really study him; his usually pale skin abnormally so now, the white bone of his knuckles visible now with the sheer strength of which he was holding onto the wood.
She had seconds to react as he suddenly pitched forward, legs giving out under him.
"Holly! George!" She called out and she darted forward, catching his head before it could hit the ground and make things worse. The coughing had started and seemed to never stop, only pausing for him to gasp in the few breaths he could. She heard light footsteps on the stairs behind her, followed by the sound of a door being thrown open, the thundering of heavy feet not soon after.
"What's wr - " Holly started to ask, before she gasped softly, and quickly appeared next to Lucy, gently pushing her away and taking over immediately. "He must have inhaled some water earlier - oh, I'm so stupid, I should have seen the signs. Lucy, listen carefully to these instructions. You too George, do what you can without that towel falling off."
She started to order them around, the two moving quickly to do whatever she needed, but it was as if Lucy was on autopilot. Though she did what Holly asked, she was only following directions, the rest of her mind distracted and numb, unable to process what was happening. A hot shower and her cozy bed were far from her mind now, as she was sure was the case for the others too, replaced by worry.
"Just hold on, Lockwood," she whispered, the words repeating in her head over and over again. "Just hold on."
There was a time in his life where he would have preferred death over life, said, "Feed me poison, fill me 'til I drown," and he wouldn't have cared at all.
But now that he was actually drowning, he found that he didn't really want to die. It wasn't that he was scared of death, what awaited him, because he knew already. And while his trip to the Other Side had left him wary, he still knew that beyond that was probably something better, or at the very least, his family. Which he still missed dearly, and wanted to reunite with, but maybe when it was a more appropriate time. Because as time had gone on, and he'd met George, and Lucy, Holly and even Kipps and Flo, he now had things to make life better than death, a reason to live.
That being said, it was really difficult to stay living right now. His breath wouldn't stay in his chest, and when it did, he coughed it out, and he was feeling lightheaded, like he was about to fall even though he had already fallen, Lucy having to catch him so he didn't injure himself more. The lack of oxygen was making dark spots try and take over his vision, and it was getting harder and harder to focus on Holly's face in front of him, turning around to look at or say something to someone else behind her. Lucy and George stayed out of his sightline and that in itself made him more nervous than it really should have.
God, why couldn't he breathe?
The blackness that had stayed at the edge of his periphery until now, threatened to take over. And while yes, he had come a long way from wanting death over life, and finding reasons to live, he was sorely tempted to just give in. That darkness promised rest, and peace, and he was so very tired. The plunge into the river and the running and fighting that had preceded that had thoroughly exhausted him, leaving him to want nothing more than to curl up on his warm, comfy bed and just sleep.
Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if he just let the darkness take over. His breath was coming a bit easier too, now that he thought about it, so maybe this darkness wasn't the eternal one. Maybe it was one that didn't just preach rest and peace, but also actually offered it and let him have it temporarily.
Already giving up on fighting it, he was barely aware of the hand that slipped into his and held on tight, the familiar voice that he loved the owner of so much talking right by his ear, but whether she was speaking to him or what she was saying both escaped him. All he could do was clasp her hand back - an action that took way too much out of him, but he still did no matter how weak his hand felt. He was rewarded by a small reassuring squeeze, the last thing he was aware of before the darkness finally consumed him.
He did wake up the next morning, to his slight surprise. And while he was still exhausted and a little weak, he did feel a lot better, his chest no longer feeling too tight and his breath coming easier now.
Still under the covers, he shifted slightly, only now noticing something in his hand; another hand, smaller, slightly softer with less calluses but still a decent amount, and warm. He knew whose it was without having to open his eyes, but he did anyway, not able to help the small smile that came on his face at the sight of Lucy sitting on a chair beside his bed. A shaft of golden light that slipped through the curtains fell across her still face, a slight frown on it even in her sleep.
His smile dimmed a little at that, and he gently brushed his thumb over her fingers, satisfied in the way the action made her expression relax and become more serene by the second. He kept doing that for a little while, just enjoying the quiet and rare moment of peace while he could.
After a little while she stirred, and she shifted, her hand slipping out of his. He tried not to dwell on how cold and empty his hand felt now, instead watching her eyes blink open slowly and a small smile come on her face as she noticed him awake.
"Hey," she said softly, yawning. "You gave us quite the scare last night."
He smiled apologetically. "Sorry for that."
She rubbed her eyes blearily. "As long as you're alright now, I suppose I can forgive you. Though some breakfast and a hot cuppa would definitely help," she grinned.
"I can't argue with that logic," he agreed. "Just got to muster up some energy to get up first."
"I can always bring up a plate for you?"
"No it's okay, I'll be down in a bit. Just see if you can stop George from scarfing everything down before i come."
"Lockwood, bringing you a plate would just be an easier task, but… okay. Call if you need anything."
He smiled. "I will."