Work Text:
By the time Lucy reaches her flat, her back is sore from carrying around her backpack and she can feel several bruises beginning to bloom all over her back.
All things considered, the night had been a success. They'd contained the source of a nasty type two and had done so with no losses of life.
Of course, the lack of deaths was only because Lucy had stepped in before the so-called leader of their group could get ghost-touched, and had been repaid for her kindness by being blown into the wall by the force of the spirit's angry wail.
This was already her second time working with this group of Rotwell agents, and already she could tell they were not a good fit.
Though to be fair to the Rotwells kids, she'd only ever had one team that felt good, and she had left them behind.
Her flat is as underwhelming as ever. Her bedroom is littered with dirty laundry that she hasn't gotten around to gathering. The kitchen counters are equally filled with empty takeout she'd meant to throw away.
There were some leftovers in the fridge, which she probably should have taken to eat right away as there had simply not been time to eat anything on the job that night, and it had been filled with exertion.
The source had ended up being tucked in the frame of the mantelpiece painting, so of course she'd gotten the job to climb onto the fireplace while using her rapier to hold off the ghost and get it down.
She was hungry. Even more than that, she was tired. Her mind suggested a nap before breakfast.
She did not get food, nor did she immediately go to bed.
Instead, she set down her equipment, leaving Skull's jar in the bag so she wouldn't have to watch his pitying face as she made her way over to her bed.
There she sat atop the covers and brought up the magazine she'd bought the previous night, but hadn't had the time to read before work.
It wasn't something she'd normally like to read. Since going off on her own she hadn't had much time for reading at all, but before then she had favoured detective novels. What she held in her hands was a gossip rag.
Something Lockwood would have enjoyed somehow. She had never gotten his fascination with these things.
Until now, that is. Now it was an almost weekly occurrence that she bought one.
The cover holds her no interest still, and neither does page two or three. But on pages four and five, there is an interview that was the whole reason she'd picked up the magazine in the first place.
'Interview with the esteemed Lockwood & Co' the title reads.
She shifts herself into a comfortable position, or at least one that won't press on her bruises too much. Then she begins to read.
As tired as she is, the best she can manage is to skim through it. It is mostly Lockwood that is mentioned, quotes from him scattered to help retell how he had helped some posh couple get rid of the Limbless that had been bothering them.
There is one quote from George as well, where he describes the phenomena, though she is almost certain his full description was gorier.
Once she's looked it over, she finally turns to the biggest reason she had bought the rag; the picture.
In front of a house that borders on counting as a mansion, presumably the location of the haunting, all of Lockwood & Co stands lined up.
Lockwood stands in the centre with a billowing coat and a grin that shows that even to him this haunting had been an exciting one, so most likely dangerous. To his right is George, still carrying some gear on his back and his eyes are slightly narrowed in a way that tells her he is not a fan of whoever is taking the picture. Holly stands to the left, looking almost entirely spotless and smiling politely, her eyes glinting with leftover adrenaline.
The three of them put together look every bit like the sort of agency one would want to deal with any haunting, and that is what this image shows to most of the magazine's readers. It is good press.
To Lucy, however, they look like something else. Despite the smiles and straight backs, she can recognize the exhaustion in them all, and the weariness of people in George. And despite all of that, she thinks that they look like home.
That is the real reason why she keeps buying these papers, just for that tiny glimpse. She doesn't even keep them, that would be a new level of pathetic even for her. All she wants is that warmth as she takes in the sight of them all, even Holly who she had never been particularly close to.
The warmth never lasts long, because it is never long before she remembers why she is not with them. Why she can never join them
The hollow boy is still fresh in her mind, the memory of Lockwood's face so sad and still.
"I am what is to come. I show you the future," it had told her. With her entire being, she knew it was right.
Leaving Lockwood & Co had left her more homesick than leaving her childhood home had, and this was the closest she could allow herself to go back.
So, she bought every magazine that featured them and she treasured the moment of warmth more than any pay, food, or comfort she had in her new place.
And when she was done, she put the magazine aside to be gotten rid of the next time she left the flat.
Then she went to sleep, feeling colder than she had even in the worst of hauntings.