Work Text:
Lockwood excavates the sapphire pendant carefully. The dresser he hid it in lies tipped onto its side, spilling its contents over the floor. Gale’s fury at their escape blew through the house like a hurricane, splintering furniture, tearing history off the walls. Lockwood expects to feel something at the sight, some sense of loss, but he doesn’t. All he feels is a lightness in his breast, a sense of triumph at knowing that everything—everyone— he truly cares about has survived.
He carries the necklace upstairs enshrouded in meaningless pieces of paper. It is a treasure dug from the earth. He can almost feel the gravedirt itching beneath his fingernails. And still, it isn’t enough.
So he pulls his heart out of his chest and leaves it lying beside the necklace on the end of her bed—the bed he slept in as a child, the last time he remembers being loved. He hopes she understands what he offers, prays that she will accept it, dusty and disused as it is.
He waits for her to appear at the bottom of the stairs, sapphire sparkling at her throat. Blood seeps back into his heart and it begins to beat anew.