Chapter Text
“Is it really you,” George asked. He stretched out a shaking hand like if he could touch her, he could believe that she was real.
Lucy met him halfway, grabbed his hand, and gave it a quick squeeze. Her eyes shone when she smiled, her lips trembling.“Really real,” she replied.
George shook his head in disbelief. “But how are you alive?”
“Look I promise I’ll explain everything but first, Holly, do you have any bandages or anything? Lockwood really needs medical attention.”
Lockwood waved weakly when everyone’s eyes locked on him, horror showing on all their faces at the blood covering him. They rushed him. Taking his arms, they helped him sit down with his back against the crates while Holly rummaged through her backpack.
“How did this even happen,” Kipps asked, even as he flung another flare at the approaching scientists; the resulting wave of heat blew his bangs back and covered Lockwood like a warm blanket before disappearing too soon.
Lockwood shivered once it was gone.
A gentle hand on his shoulder grabbed his attention, he turned his head to see Holly kneeling next to him, a small white box held in one hand. “I’m going to look at your wound now, okay,” she asked, even as she waited for Lockwood to nod before she did anything. Grasping Lockwood’s wrist, she gently pulled his hand away from the oozing gash. He hissed when moving it pulled at the congealed blood that had glued his hand to the injury. Holly made a soothing sound but otherwise didn’t react, completely focused on her work.
The others who had leaned in close to see the damage for themselves hissed in sympathy.
“Looks nasty,” George commented.
With nothing to staunch it, the wound began to bleed faster; Lockwood felt the world begin to spin and he groaned miserably.
After that, things got a little blurry. Holly did efficient things with bandages while the others rushed out to finish what they had started. Lockwood could hear screaming and shouting and the sound of steel on steel or breaking glass. At one point, he could hear Steve Rotwell yelling abuse before it abruptly cut off.
Then the others were back and they were carrying him away.
The rocking motion set his stomach rolling and he inhaled shallowly, swallowing thickly around the urge to puke. George murmured something to him but he couldn’t make out the words. Lockwood’s brow pinched. He was so tired and he wished the world would stop spinning. It was making him dizzy.
Lockwood closed his eyes.
He’d just rest his eyes for a second then he’d feel better.
-o-O-o-
When he opened them again, he was surprised to find himself lying in a bed. Alarmed, he shot upright and almost fell out of the bed as the room tilted alarmingly. He breathed slowly and deliberately as he tried to regain his equilibrium even as he collapsed back onto the bed. He hissed as the motion pulled at something in his arm. Lifting his hand, he was unsurprised to find an iv taped to the back of his hand. He followed the tubing up to a - already halfway empty - blood bag.
He sighed; hospital then.
At least his skin was clean and dry and he was pleasantly warm. Which was a godsend compared to how uncomfortable he had felt before.
Lockwood closed his eyes and was on the verge of falling back asleep when Barnes spoke.
His eyes flew open.
He squawked in surprise, heart racing from the sudden scare, “Inspector Barnes,” he yelped, “I didn’t realize you were here.”
Barnes sighed, leaned back in his chair. He looked more solemn and hang-dog than Lockwood had ever seen him. “It couldn’t be helped,” he said, gruffly. “It was imperative that I spoke with you. I barely managed to send your friends away and doubtless, they’ll all be back sooner rather than later so I’ll be brief.”
The aged inspector fixed Lockwood with a severe look. Lockwood frowned, pushed himself into a facsimile of a sitting position; whatever Barnes wanted to speak about was serious. Now wasn’t the time to fall back into their comfortable pattern of ribbing. “I’m all ears, Inspector.”
"You’ll need to be careful," Barnes murmured. "You’ve made yourself some powerful enemies. And whatever you think you know, I can assure you that it’s only the tip of the iceberg. This is bigger than you can even imagine. Keep your head down. Forget what you saw here; if you don't it's going to land you and your friends in a heap of trouble. You just got Miss Carlyle back. You might not be as lucky next time, Mr. Lockwood."
“I’ll be sure to keep it in mind, Inspector,” Lockwood said brightly, already turning the implications in his mind. This scheme must be a lot bigger than he had imagined. There was no way that he was just going to forget about it. His decision must have shown on his face because Barnes sighed in exasperation.
“I came to warn you and now it’s out of my hands what you choose to do with it. But I hope that you heed my advice, Mr. Lockwood. I really do.”
“Aw, are you worried about us? That’s so sweet!”
Barnes reddened. His face closed off and he abruptly stood up; he fixed his coat with two sharp motions and was just reaching for the door when it flew open, admitting Lucy and George.
“Lockwood!” Lucy greeted. “You’re awake.”
Barnes saved him from having to state the obvious. “Remember what I said, Mr. Lockwood.” He left the room shutting the door behind him.
George came up beside the bed, an excited look on his face. “What did Barnes tell you?”
“To keep our heads down and ignore everything. Just like always.” Lockwood shook his head in disgust. Adults .
Lucy scoffed in agreement. “Of course. I get drugged and kidnapped and they say to forget about it.”
“Drugged?” George exclaimed.
“Yeah,” she winced. Thinking of how this whole mess had started. “After- well I suppose I should start at the beginning. The skull was stolen and I had a meeting with Harold Mailer to learn who had taken him. When I got to the meeting place, Mailer was already dead and there were three men chasing me out of the park. Long story short, I got caught and they drugged me with something. And you know the rest.” She paused. “The funny thing is that when I woke up Barnes was there and then Rotwell.”
“Barnes?”
“Rotwell?”
Lucy nodded. “It sounded like whoever was with Barnes was threatening him with something. I don’t know who it could have been.”
“And Rotwell?” Lockwood repeated.
“He came by later to gloat but I don’t know why.”
“I can think of one reason,” George said. He cleaned his glasses on his shirt and replaced them before speaking. “Rotwell has been one step behind Fittes from the very beginning of the problem. And there’s one thing that can help them catch up.”
Lockwood gestured impatiently. “And what is that?”
“A good listener.” They looked at Lucy, who shrunk under the attention. “Marissa Fittes could talk to type 3s, if they wanted a hope of beating Fittes they would need someone like her.”
Lucy scowled. “But how did they even find out that I could speak to type 3’s? I certainly didn’t tell them.”
“You didn’t have to. You haven’t exactly been subtle about talking to the skull, Luce, they probably found out when they came to steal it. Or Harold told them. We can’t know for certain.”
“And what, they thought I would just,” Lucy waved her hands sarcastically. “Magically solve all of their problems?”
George gestured lamely, “I didn’t say it was a good plan. Obviously, the people who came with it were idiots, no forethought at all.”
She huffed in response and collapsed on the edge of the bed. Leaning back on her hands, she stared at the ceiling, her lips twisted in a pout. “Whatever. I’m just glad I got Skull back and was able to escape.”
“I’m just glad we were able to find Lucy,” Lockwood said. “The skull was a nice addition.”
“It’s so exciting that you were able to visit the Other Side,” George said, enthusiastically. “I have so many questions. Did your Listening help you navigate the Other Side? Is that how you were able to send Lockwood that dream? And why didn’t you send me one too? Was it hard to meddle with the fabric of the universe? How was Lockwood able to hear the visitors he encountered? There’s so much we could learn from this!”
“It wasn’t a very nice place. Ten out of ten would not recommend going there on vacation.”
George frowned. “Spoilsport. Anyway, Lucy. I really want an answer to my question. How did you send that dream?”
“I asked Skull to do it. I don’t really know what he did, to be honest, but it seems like it worked so maybe that’s something only type 3’s can do?”
“Can you ask him?”
“I guess. I don’t know if he’ll answer or not.”
George’s excitement dimmed visibly.
Lockwood ignored him - there was no talking to George when he got like this - he looked at Lucy. “I have another question for you. When they told us you were dead your abominable mother came by and asked for your final paycheck - which we didn’t have! - and then she didn’t even invite us to the funeral! But what I don’t understand is why she would agree to confirm that you were dead when you obviously weren’t.”
Lucy shrugged. “They probably offered her money.”
Lockwood scowled.
The door opened again, and this time a nurse came in. She smiled at the assembled group, before moving to the IV pump. She went through the basic questions with Lockwood. Asking him if he was feeling dizzy, in pain, nauseous, anything wrong. He seemed to answer correctly as she said that she would get started with his discharge papers and then they could leave. She left with another smile for them.
“Finally,” Lucy exclaimed. “I’m so sick of this place. Luckily for us, Kipps and Holly already left to pick up your things from the inn so you can head there as soon you get discharged. They said they’d wait for you there and then you’d all go catch the train,” She stood up and Lockwood’s heart dropped. Why was she talking like she wasn’t going with them? “Well, we should probably step out so you can get changed. You’ll have to put your dirty clothes back on. Sorry about that.”
Lockwood could care less about his clothes. He shot out a hand and grabbed Lucy before she could walk out of reach, calling for her to wait. “Before we leave, I want to clear the air. Lucy, I’m sorry for what I told you outside Guppy’s house. And I want you to know that it would— nothing would make me happier than if you came back to Portland Row with us.”
George nodded, folding his arms and looking quite pleased with the turn of events. “What he said. It’s not home without you, Lucy.”
Lucy smiled tremulously. “Well in that case there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.” She laughed abruptly. “Also, I’m pretty sure my landlord has already rented my flat to someone else since I’ve been dead.”
“We also have all of your stuff. I was planning on holding it hostage if you didn’t agree to come back with us,” George said sardonically. Lucy stuck her tongue out at him.
“You’re evil!”
“Of course I am. I killed a man last night, after all.”
“Excuse me. What?”
“Oh, did we not tell you? Rotwell is dead. I threw a salt bomb at him and he fell right into his own spirit gate. I’m sure you can imagine what happened next.”
“Serves him right,” Lucy said viciously.
Lockwood echoed the sentiment.
“Honestly, I’m more surprised that he managed to hit him,” Lucy admitted. George glared at her.
“My aim isn’t that bad!”
“You’re right. It’s even worse.”
Still bickering they moved into the hallway in order for Lockwood to change.
The nurse came down the hall a couple of minutes later, papers in hand, and entered the room. She then came out with Lockwood and they all walked out together.
The sunlight hit his face and he smiled.
He had learned some things about himself this week, experienced emotions he hadn’t known he was capable of. He had thought that he would kill anyone who had hurt Lucy but in the end he didn’t have to. All the dark things he had felt had eased when he’d found her. The dark cloud that had hung over his head was banished.
George had gotten the closure he needed.
Lucy was safe.
And Lockwood was so unbelievably happy to have his family together again.
Lockwood grabbed Lucy’s hand. “Ready, Luce? Ready, George?” They nodded, smiling brightly. “Then let's get out of here.”
And, hand-in-hand, they headed home.