Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

The village was dark and deserted at this time of night, every door closed and locked as ghost lamps cast their eerie green glows across the rain slick ground. The odds were good that they could make it out without being spotted- the night watch would probably be huddled under cover somewhere- but still, they couldn’t take any chances. At least there was no way that anyone had noticed they had gone yet. 

He nearly breathed a sigh of relief they approached the train station, but he knew he couldn’t relax yet, not until they were safely on their way. Instead he squeezed her hand again, hoping she knew what he was thinking- it’ll be all right, we’re almost there, don’t worry.

One lone figure stood on the platform under a ghost lamp, huddled under a garish striped golf umbrella and weighed down with an old sports duffel and a heavy rucksack. “It’s about time, Lockwood,” George said, thrusting a pair of tickets into his hand. “Cutting it awfully close. You all right, Luce?”

The hood of her raincoat cast shadows over Lucy’s face, but even in the dim light the bruising around her swollen right eye was painfully obvious. “Yeah, I’m fine,” she said, shifting her weight. “Can we go now? The longer we stay here the more likely someone’s going to catch us.”

“We’ll be all right,” Lockwood said. He pushed up the sleeve of his coat to check his watch. “We’re right on time. Come on.”

Trains very rarely stopped at the Croxford station at this time of night; George had had to consult multiple schedules to carefully map out their trip. They were lucky that the fates had played in their favor- sure, they would have to make a couple transfers, but they’d be gone long before anyone realized.

They settled into their compartment on the quiet, nearly empty train without a word, still clutching their bags, as if they were collectively holding their breath until they were sure they were safe. It wasn’t until the train started to move and the rain-blurred image of the station in the window began to recede that the tension broke.

“Jesus, I can’t believe that worked,” George sighed, dropping his rucksack on the floor and slumping down on the bench. “I don’t think I’m cut out for heists.”

Lockwood grinned as he stacked up their rapiers and shrugged out of his damp coat. “Nonsense, George, you’re a natural,” he said. He tugged down the hem of his dark green jumper and brushed his damp hair out of his eyes. “Here, darling, give me your coat, I’ll hang it up.”

Lucy pushed her hood back and George winced. “That thing gets worse every time I see it,” he said.

“You’re not exactly a thing of beauty yourself,” she retorted, but her hand self consciously rose up to cover her black eye.  

“I only meant-”

Lockwood brushed Lucy’s tousled hair off her forehead and kissed her lightly. “It’ll be better in no time,” he told her. Truthfully George was right, the bruising had deepened from a mauve-y red to an ugly purple and so swollen that her eye could barely open, but most likely it would start fading within a few days. It wasn’t the worst injury he’d helped her patch up over the years, but he was determined it would be the last.

“How long before our first stop?” Lucy asked.

George rummaged around in his rucksack for a battered notebook and flipped a few pages. “An hour and a half,” he said. “And then an hour from there, and then it’s straight to London.” He pushed his glasses back up his nose with the heel of his palm. “You’ve got the keys, right?”

“Of course,” Lockwood said, but he checked his pocket anyway, even though he knew the keys hadn’t moved since he’d snuck them from the safe. A little thrill ran down his spine. He hadn’t seen his childhood home in so long.

“I might make a run to my house to grab a few things, but if we try to hide out there then we’ll definitely get found out,” George said. “My brother Andrew has been housesitting while we’ve been out here, and if he runs into us he’ll definitely call Mum and Dad.” He sighed. “As long as they still think I’m sleeping over at your house, we’re in the clear.”

“Well, I’m supposed to be sleeping over at your house, so we’ll see how long that lasts before someone figures out we both lied,” Lockwood said. He ran his hand through his hair as he sat down beside Lucy. God, she’s going to kill me when she figures out I ran away .

“No one’s going to come looking for me,” Lucy said idly as she rested her chin in her hand and squinted out the darkened window. “I once spent a week at Norrie’s without Mum realizing I wasn’t there. They’ll only figure out I’m gone if someone thinks to ask me where you two are.”

“If we’re lucky it’ll take ‘em all a few days to put everything together,” George said. “And if we’re really lucky, no one will make a connection between what we saw at Aldbury Castle and us legging it.”

“I doubt it,” Lockwood said.

“We are not a handful of morons,” Lucy snapped, then huffed in annoyance, blowing her fringe off her forehead. “George, d’you mind flipping the valve? He’s being absolutely obnoxious right now and I don’t foresee him shutting up any time soon.”

“Oh, god, yeah,” George said. He fumbled around in his rucksack, pulling it open just enough to flip the valve on the silverglass jar, the eerie green light momentarily shining into the compartment before he closed it up again, and Lucy visibly relaxed. “That reminds me. A few ground rules. Rule number one, keep that thing under wraps.”

“That’s on you, George, he’s in your backpack.”

“Yeah, but that includes no talking to it in public. Rule number two,” he continued. “No mentioning what we know. No Fittes, no Rotwell, no Other Side, no Orpheus Society.”

“But if I’m going to find out what happened to-”

George waved his hand dismissively. “You can’t just banter about with anybody,” he said. “Keep your mouth shut. Yes, we’ll find out, but you’re going to stay quiet about it. And three…you two country mice are going to have to listen to me.”

“Country mice?” Lucy repeated, incredulous.

“I resent that, you know I grew up in London,” Lockwood said. 

George snorted. “Yeah, but you left when-”

“Just because we’re not city kids doesn’t mean we can’t handle ourselves.”

“Yeah, yeah, you tell yourselves that,” George said. “Just stick with me, okay?” He yawned heavily. “Now if you two don’t mind, I’m going to try to get some sleep. Might as well get some rest so we can jump right into things when we get to London.” He grinned. “Can’t wait for you two to see the Archives, you haven’t got anything like it around here. Your minds’ll be blown.”

“I’m going to ignore that last remark,” Lockwood said. He sighed. “But yeah, sleep might be a good idea.”

Somehow George managed to fall asleep in minutes, his head propped up on his duffel and his orange puffer draped over him. Lockwood couldn’t sleep, and neither did Lucy. She curled herself against him, her head on his shoulder, and they held hands, their fingers intertwined. He traced patterns along the soft skin of her wrist, circling her bruised knuckles and the curves of her fingers. 

After a while she rubbed her cheek against his soft jumper and pressed a kiss to his shoulder. “You should lie down a bit, I don’t think you’ve slept in ages,” she whispered.

“Oh, come on, Luce, I’m fine-”

She patted her knee. “Stop arguing and lie down.”

If he’d learned anything in the past ten years, it was that he very rarely won an argument against Lucy Carlyle. He leaned in to kiss her, soft and careful and gentle against her healing split lip, and obliged her by lying down with his head on her lap. His long legs couldn’t fit very well and he had to fold himself up a bit, but it was worth it as she started to stroke his hair, gentle and rhythmic.

Lucy was right, he hadn’t slept in…well, he couldn’t remember how long. He’d never been a good sleeper. But the rocking of the train was almost as relaxing as Lucy’s hand on his hair, and now that the adrenaline was wearing off he could feel exhaustion sinking into his bones. His mind dredged up the faint memory of sleeping on the train leaving London when he was a child and his heart clenched in his chest. So much had changed since then, he knew so much more.

I’m going to fix it, he thought as sleep drew him down. I’m going to make everything right. I have to, or I’ll die trying.