Chapter Text
Everyone thought for a second. Kipps piped up, "Why don't you all just come to my flat? It's plenty big enough."
We all nodded and raced to grab our essentials. I came back down.
"Do y'all need to run by your house before we head to Kipps's place?"
They shook their heads. Kipps quirked a little smile.
"They keep backup bags at my place in case they need to crash there for any reason."
Kipps hopped into his car.
"Everyone get in."
I raised an eyebrow.
"Kipps, we can't all fit."
He sighed.
"Ok, look, there's a trunk space. Lockwood, Ned, George, you three are the oldest. You go back there. Lucy, Kate, I would prefer it if you would stay up front, but I can't make you. Bobby, you're sitting buckled in, you know, the legal way."
Kate grinned.
"I'll sit back here with Bobby, you take the shotgun seat, Luce, so it won't be too crowded."
Everyone got it, and in no time, we were at Kipps's flat.
Kipps had just turned 17 and was the only good driver of all of us.
Bobby walked tiredly up into his room for bed rest.
"Okay, I have a pull-out couch bed in my room. I'll sleep on that Ned, Kate, you take my bed. Don't try and argue it won't work. Lockwood, Luce, there's a spare room that y'all two can sleep in together. I know you're not dating, but you both are blind as bats and can't see you both fancy each other. Work it out because I'm not coming in to check on y'all tonight to Lockwood sleeping on the floor. George, the couch in the living room also makes a bed. I assume you also contacted Flo, and she will be breaking into my flat soon. You two can sleep there, I've known you were dating for the past month, so you can stop looking at me like that. You're not the only one she talks to, you know."
Lockwood and I stuttered for a second.
"I told Flo to knock."
George said, a little in shock.
Everyone went to their respective areas to unpack, and Flo was there when we came back down.
"Kipps, tell me you have something to help Bobby. Please."
Kipps nodded, "it's already been taken care of."
Bobby came down looking considerably less pale.
I swooped over and felt his forehead with the back of my hand.
His skin was cool and smooth.
Not a hint of the raging fire that had been there an hour ago.
Flo stepped up.
"Carlyle, you need to sit down. You still have a concussion."
Bobby could sense a fight brewing, so he pulled me down to sit next to him.
I wrapped an arm around the kid.
"Kipps, will your brother and parents be okay?"
Quill chuckled a little, "Rory?"
I nodded.
"Maybe he should come to? He could sleep on the couch in Bobby's room. You know their best friends."
I knew my eyes clouded with worry.
"Look, Rory may be a pain in the ass, but Gale's not below torture, Quill."
Quill bit his lip.
Rory was Quill's red-headed brother, and he looked just like him.
Rory was a few months younger than me, had no talent, and thought he was God's gift to women.
I still loved him, though (despite the number of times he's tried to hit on me), and I would be devastated if anything happened to him.
I saw him as a younger brother for sure.
Quill nodded, and I had to get it off my chest.
"He doesn't know anything, but if they got their hands on that little shit, he would,"
my voice trailed off.
"He couldn't handle it, Quill. He's too soft; he's never had to face horrors like this, dead or alive."
At that, Quill went and called him.
"Hi, Rory.
Okay, yes, oh.
Mom told you.
Did she hear from higher-up friends in fits?
She didn't tell them where we're at, though, right?
No, I didn't expect her to.
Okay.
Yes, I know.
You can't stop us.
No, you're not in danger.
Yes, you have to come here.
Just Lockwood and Co and my team.
I swear to God!
No, Lucy is not picking you up!
I'll send Kate and Ned your not walking alone.
See you in a few, you damn idiot.
Love you too, Rory."
He hung up.
"Kate, Ned, are you okay to go pick up Rory for me."
They were moving before he finished his sentence.
Lockwood moved Bobby to his room, and Kipps showed me his weapons room.
It had everything, but I was drawn immediately to the throwing knives.
I picked one up and got a feel for the handle.
I threw it, and it hit.
It hit the target but was far off from the middle.
"Want me to help you?"
Quill whispered.
I shook my head, though.
"You can stay, but I need to get it by myself."
He nodded as he watched me quickly go through throwing knives, darts, bow, and arrow, and we were sparring with rapiers when I heard Rory's voice.
Quill looked pointedly at me.
"We were cleaning the chains, nothing more. You still have a concussion, and Lockwood will kill me."
I grinned and nodded.
I felt myself let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding when I saw Rory.
I went over and pulled him into a hug.
He was taller than me and scrawny, just like Kipps, but he didn't have the frown lines Kipps did.
He didn't have the worn hands of an agent or the tired look that we all did.
He was always smiling and goofed off a lot, maybe too much.
Kate and I always talked about how sort of jealous we were that he got to just be a kid.
He worked a part-time job at a museum, and he brought life to it.
He's still a self-righteous prat, but he had good qualities.
"Well, hello there. You were certainly eager to see me."
Kipps slapped the back of his head as I gently pushed his shoulder.
Lockwood put a hand on the side of my head, "Luce, you should sit down and relax; you have a concussion."
Rory opened his mouth, but Kipps explained everything.
Kate came over and let me lean into her side.
We sat there and watched the television, all of us, and just kinda relaxed.
It was a nice change from almost dying every night and then struggling through the day.
Rory and Bobby were sent up to their room around eight for an early bed, meanwhile, the rest of us stayed curled into each other until around ten.
Lockwood fell asleep on the floor in front of the tv, and I knew I was soon followed with my head on Quill's shoulder.
Kate and Ned had curled up thirty minutes ago and were already asleep with Kate laid out over Ned’s body.
George and Flo were curled up on the other couch, still awake and watching the tv.
I moved closer to Quill.
“Is it cold in here?”
I asked tiredly.
Quill smiled a little and shifted so that my head was resting on his chest and his arm was around my shoulder, “no, Luce, that's just the concussion talking.”
He grabbed a blanket from behind us and tossed it gently around me.
Soon enough, I was out.