#the only time he calls her luce in front of anyone other than george or a cab driver

[startwithbrooklyn]

THE GREAT ND REWATCH OF 2021 / SEPTEMBER 10, 2019 // the seancé

watched this while drinking and working my second job after my full time job (hence the drinking) when my supe called to tell me i didnt do enough work for them and could i start doing more because being tired after working an 8 hour day was just. unacceptable. (while i'm drinking during this ENTIRE call) anyway 🍸 i use nance/nancy interchangeably like luce/lucy

-"denial: smalltown USA's favorite pastime" 👌🏻👀

-the begrudging kiss + george w the coffee = lmfaooooooo awkss nance

-wonder who this FBI agent friend of owen's is since they never get to meet 😕

-"we just opened!" / "work ethic" how nancy views the claw/work is manifested in her constant lateness and skipping out. like she says "i never thought i'd be wearing this" its clear she has some of that upper middle class/white suburban bias against restaurant working that only becomes okay in the pretext of saving up for college. this is made ironic by ryan who jokes in s2 about having no money and working at a coffee shop, sharing nancy's opinion. also ironic is how a group of her coworkers "not my friends" at this same place she puts little appreciation into turn out to be her biggest support group

-carson & family dinners: seeing john sanders' texts w nancy and trying to keep up with what shes doing / makes you wonder how ryan would approach as a dad. judging by s2 he's less subtle than carson but possibly more effective for it (i have so many nancy&ryanthoughts but i'll wait till the reveal ep)

-steaks lmaooooooo what a white suburban dad thing to say

-"we are on the same side" / "why does it feel like we're on different teams" : laura/ace and nancy/nick mirrors (almost like some kinda men vs women showdown but these women do NOT trust these men...)

-why is the precinct "the least haunted building in horseshoe bay"? does lucy not haunt the police bc she knew karen was trying to get revenge/"justice" for her? or bc she doesnt want to haunt karen at all? and what of other ghosts? a police station seems like prime ghost material for officers of unsolved cases. is it chief mcginnis with his link to the supernatural keeping everything under control? if so, what happens when he leaves and tamura shows up? (based on the dress ep i cant remember if hes woke to the supernatural or not)

-"you would need an object lucy touched the night she died" nancy like -->😌it me

-okay. anybody who hugged lucy would HAVE to know she was pregnant?? like wtf

-LAURAAAA lmfaoooo

-UNPOPULAR OPINION: laura/nick - hatefuck - hes strong enough to top her with words AND hands - bringing out something tougher created by prison (like it rough/lose control) nick is presented to be so kind and almost always on top of his emotions but laura is def a canvas that can take a few hits. i can definitely see her being attracted to how much he doesnt really like her and wants to stop her from always getting her way. her pretentious ass motormouth is practically begging you to grab her by the arms and shake her to shut her up (and she would be begging you to shut her up too)(ik s2 nick/race talks/his mom ep would never ever do this to anyone but its a choice "what if" to me)

-this casting for teen candace to adult is on point

-so two days after lucy's death they pay him 50 grand from a shell company? he says it's for services rendered but then for what services? does everett know or suspect that the drews took lucys baby and pay them for taking care of an impertinence, including lucy, not really caring what really happened to her as long as shes no longer a threat to him? honestly could see a cover up. nance only does the reveal in her balmain tazer glory and we dont really get an honest reaction out of him iirc (the new actor they switched to shows wayyyyy less emotion than s1 guy) and he could easily fake surprise. obvs celia doesnt know bc s2 but whos surprised at that. i wonder what tipped her off that nancy could be ryans baby and prompted her to test. hmm. and payroll vs shell account. why would it have been paid differently. sus. 🤔🤔

-the irony of nancy picking at nick's story at the inn for karens deal + nancy straight up ignoring nicks proof w this transfer... like ep 1 "i'll tell you about my past if you tell me about yours" except...no, actually. "i'm just trying to solve this / it feels more like you're trying to solve me" its so true. and nancy really badgered nick into telling about his conviction but it was kinda payback for showing up at the claw and making her admit their "relationship" -like when george says "you need to be just as relentless", it was equal but nasty. like. nick never asked george for details about ryan that way. he even admits he doesnt wanna push her to ace after learning what not to do with nancy.

-this seance has nick so irritated w nancy lmfaooooo

-"half sister" so josh and patrices' last name is dodd- his grandpa must be a dodd also for the name of the shop. wonder why lucy's last name is sable, and where her dad is, and where josh's dad is as well- there's no mention of dads or stepdads anywhere for these two

-mcginnis knows theyre innocent / "work together" he knows they arent really suspects but he just wants to fuck with nancy. could be playful or just nancy's naivete. maybe he actually kinda missed her fucking around in his work and is trying to make up for the lost time when she withdrew from mysteries d/t her depression after kate

-nancy + knowing everybody else's secrets - nick's conviction, bess's family, george's affair, ace's deal w mcginnis and confronts them all in turn like nick and the secret phone, george from the meeting in the woods, bess from the passport/ring and acs's phone calls (they all somehow end up knowing all each other's secrets after a bit anyway)

-fuckin love Ted 😌🙏🏻💙

-when lucy grabs nancys hand i was just like "MOM!"

-if nancy had asked lucy if carson did it, she would have been spared the trial 👀🙃

-"even if you did, nothing was gonna stop you" true truuuuueeeee like. nick needs to be needed. nancy doesnt need him starting in episode 1. nick thinks that sex = relationship but nancy never saw it that way until she realized thats what nick wanted her to admit. "i wanna be with you / im trying" she is literally forcing herself to try and date him normally when thats honestly never what she wanted. and its nicks own fault here bc she never even wanted to be "official" but he forced that out of her too in front of coworkers no less. he set himself up to be disappointed

and lastly

-so carson stole the evidence, but what did he do with it? burn it like the dress?

[wolfjawswriter]

“Death’s in Life” - Skull

“Death’s in Life” - Skull

Lockwood and Co. Series

Summary: he came back

Warning: idiocy and foul language.

——Skull——

Life.

What is the meaning of life? Is there something that makes us keep going? Are we destined to achieve our goals set in lifetime, to the greatness that we all imagine for ourselves? Is that what truly provokes us to move on in life from our failures and makes try to be better at what we do? Do we have to be better? When are we done perfecting ourselves for this world then? Is it the world’s bidding that we become the best we can? How can the world measures our goodwill against the acts of others? Is there truly a way to become the best?

And Death.

How does the world determine when should death come to us? When have we completed our journeys through the tangible world and are we then truly ready to become part of the great beyond? Does our consent matter not to the moment when it finally happens?

But now that it has happened, must I remain quiet and undisturbed, spending my time trying to comprehend what goes on in the intangible mind of the greater forces, or can I go back to the world of the living and annoy the hell out of that small, angry, rather hip-full and dumb-love-struck teenage girl that always stuffed me under her bed?

Obviously, I chose the latter.

Why would I ever choose to try and spend my time imitating Marissa Fittes’ decisions when I can annoy the hell, heaven and earth out of that little ball of bitterness! There’s no better way of spending the afterlife, or ethereal-being time, than bothering Lucy! Speaking of which…

How long has it been since I last woke up? Last I remember was being in the Fittes building, Marissa and her pathetic, cheap excuse of a Type Three, Ezekiel (he doesn’t even look like a ghost!), then, darling not-so-little Lockwood came on his white stallion and silver armor, hair waving in the air and little birds chirping melodically around him, ready to save the day! At least that’s how I’m sure Lucy saw it. Then she broke my jar, Marissa went ballistic and wanted to blow up the entire building, so I pushed Lucy and Lockwood out of the room…and everything went black.

Was I back in the Other Side? I couldn’t see anything, not even that murky, always-nighttime version of London I saw whenever I was there so obviously this isn’t the Other Side. Then what was it- Oh wait, do I have my eyes closed?

I don’t have eyes, that’s for sure, but…maybe that was it. So, I opened my eyes, and-

This is certainly an angle of this room I hadn’t seen before. It took me a tiny moment to adjust my eyes to the sudden brightness around me. There was a window on the wall beside me, so I looked out. It isn’t nighttime here…and the sky doesn’t look murky and gray…

I looked around the room. It was a small room, with old wooden walls, frostbitten and rather rotten-looking, but that isn’t new. There were two doors, one that had stairs that led down to the second floor of this now-wretched house, and the other that led to a tiny, beggarly bathroom. A single bed with iron headboard stood on the wall opposite to me, and thank God cause I can feel the iron from here, itching on my ectoplasm-

Itching on my ectoplasm? Since when does that headboard itches me? In all the years I’ve been on this room, or any room of this house, I have never felt anything on my plasm. Actually, its been years since I’ve felt something other than the wall of my jar…

I looked down and- oh heavens, is that my body?! Its been years since I last say any part of my body! I look just like when I died; my baggy and dirty clothes, the cuts and bruises on my arms, the blood on the neck and chest of my shirt…I raised my hands and touched my face. It sure had been long since I felt myself like this…my long nose, high cheekbones, sharp jaw and my hair, sticky with blood that had run down the sides of my head and was now stuck/dry there. My perfect, beautiful self, finally in my hands again.

With one more look around the room I noticed the small layer of dust that had gathered in it. I frowned and ‘stood’ up. Actually, I was floating, my feet just bits above the wooden ground of the room. Another angle I hadn’t seen of this room before, but that was due to the fact that, since ghosts look like they did in life, I was as tall I once was, meaning taller than Lucy ever held my skull, which was currently sitting on the windowsill, charred on the back and with small cracks on the front. My poor skull-

The door of the room burst open and suddenly I was surrounded by three pointy and ectoplasm-tingling sticks.

“Lucy, are you sure we aren’t repeating the Annie Ward incident-”

“For the last time Anthony, I don’t bring sources into my room anymore!”

“Then why is there a ghost in here, Luce?!”

“I don’t know George! I haven’t been up here much!”

I looked between the three squabbling figures before me, my spectral essence and ectoplasm growing fretful at the emotionally-charged quarrel.

“No time to discuss this; Lucy, look for the source, George and I will keep it at bay” The smallest figure turned and gazed around the room, the other two, more masculine and taller figures still waving the itchy sticks at me.

“Its not doing anything” One of the boys said. Wow, Cubbins wasn’t as tall as I thought he’d be! And, dear heavens, has he lost a bit of weight? He doesn’t look as fat as the last time I saw him, but he was generally the same; still ugly jumpers that were full of stains and wrinkles, baggy jeans that (somehow) highlight his ass, round spectacles and that awful sandy mop he called hair that lived on his head.

“Luce, how are we doing with that source?” The other, Lockwood of course, called back. He was also pretty much how I remembered him; streetlamp-tall, cadaverous hands and practically non-existent hips with his overly long coat, princess hair, old-fashioned (grandpa) style of clothes and dainty moves like he was some sort of doe. Perhaps he was a bit taller than before, but I couldn’t be sure how much.

“I can’t sense anything!” Lucy growled as she looked around the tiny room. She was just as I remembered her, though I dare say her hips looked a bit wider than the last time I saw her. All the more material to annoy her with! “and I’m not getting any echoes!”

In my slight moment of recognition, Lockwood’s rapier caught my arm, sizzling it with its nasty iron-ness. Right, that was it! I let out a deep, broken and ghoulish screech that made Lucy forget all about her search and her rapier, letting it fall against the ground and cover her ears with her hands. Lockwood and George stepped away from me, hit with the psychical charge of my roar. With a simple gesture of my hand, all the rapiers flew out of the room and clattered their way down the stairs, the door closing.

“Get your filthy rapiers away from me and my ectoplasm, you- savages!” I squawked indignantly, compressed against the wall and trying to get my plasm to stop throbbing “can’t a noble and honest ghost raise from the grave and the Great Beyond in holy peace now-nights?! This is a perfect example of Skullism! You agents judge us ghosts the same before you even let us howl our merry welcome out of death and snuff us out!”

All I got in return for my outburst was surprised faces of the three teenagers “…skull?!”

“No, Ariff’s new delivery boy- of course its me! What other ghost did you thought?! I ought to lift this entire house off its foundations and throw it around the neighborhood! Like a baby toy! Or a stupid leaf on the wind! See if anyone talks about Aikemere’s poltergeist after that!”

“Wait, you- how are you here?” Lucy uncovered her ears, walking towards George and Lockwood.

“What do you mean ‘how are you here’, the same way all ghosts come back!”

“Buts its barely six pm” she gestured to the window, her face along with Lockwood’s and George’s perplexed as they eyed me up and down “the sun isn’t down, how are you here?”

“Hey, tell Cubbins my eyes are up here” I grumbled, floating closer to them. They all took a couple of steps back, probably realizing that they didn’t have any sort of protection from me. A small and unearthly sense of pride swelled inside of me, making my plasmic body feel like it was glowing; I wasn’t inside my jar, and there wasn’t any sort of silver powder or iron chain surrounding me or my source. I was a free ghost, free to go out through the streets and to actually talk and not get stuffed under a pillow, or get a towel over me, or any lever pulled shut. I could howl if I wanted and no one could stop me from doing it, or haunting a house, even from Ghost Touching someone- “and I don’t know how I’m here, its the first time my source has been out to the sun and not inside the jar”

Lucy’s usual frown deepened “first time? Aren’t you 150 years old?”

“Well, before Fittes got me inside that jar, I spent my days in a sewer, it was always dark and mucky down there”

“So you could be active all the time, couldn’t you?”

“Technically I could, but I wasn’t active all the time, its not like there was much to do there”

“Right…” She looked over to Lockwood and George, now frowning in concern “so you’re back, and…you’re out of the jar”

“Geez, no need to jump of excitement, Lucy” I rolled my eyes, moving over to the window. They stepped away “don’t think my ghostly self can take that much emotion without going delirious”

“Sorry…its just…well, you just threw our rapiers out of the room-”

“He hurt me with that thing!”

“What?”

“Lockwood! He scraped me with it! That hurts!” I huffed crisply, holding my arm where my plasm was still sizzling quietly “in case you agents might not remember, iron hurts ghosts”

“Ah, right, well…” she looked at Lockwood and repeated to him what I said, skipping my threats to lift the house and throw it around. Why would she do that, I still don’t get why she always cuts all I said and leaves only a few things? The threat was important!

“I’m not apologizing for defending us from a ghost, Lucy”

“He’s not going to hurt us, Anthony”

“He could, his out of his jar now”

“The skull was out of his jar before, when we were with Marissa and he didn’t hurt us then” she crossed her arms over her chest “He saved us, Anthony, and you know it”

“‘Anthony’? Are we going by first names now?” I leant down, closer to her. Lockwood took her by her arm and pulled her back, stepping halfway before her “ooh, I see how it is”

Lucy blushed furiously.

“I thought I'd never see it happen” I could feel her temper raising; it was like putting coal on a fire in the pit of a vapor-machine, or a steam train, and having the flames produce more steam, making the train work faster. The scorching of my ectoplasm diminished.

“That’s not your business” She huffed.

“Oh no, Lucy, its totally my business, I thought we had something special here! I saved your life! But no, I do it and I disappear for a few hours, days perhaps, and what’s the first thing you do? You go and look for someone else to comfort you when I was the one that has been doing so for years!”

“Wait, days? You’ve been gone for months!”

“…time sure is weird when you’re death”

She only rose an eyebrow at me and told what I said to the other two. I keep forgetting they’re here with us, isn’t it rude to have someone else listening to your conversation? I suppose in this case its listening to half the conversation and then a repeat of what I said, but my point stands. Rude as hell.

“Alright, but, where were you? Like I said, you were gone for months, were you in the Other Side?”

“I don’t know. How am I supposed to know if I just thought I was gone for a few hours”

“Well, you must know something! How can you have spent months there and not know anything about it?!”

“I don’t know, I’m not psychic or gypsy! I can’t look into the Great Beyond or a crystal ball and tell you your future! I’m a ghost!”

“A Type Three ghost!”

“And you suppose that just because I’m a Type Three I suddenly, magically know the meaning of Life and Death and all their secrets? Its just like when I was in the jar, I don’t know those things!”

“Fine!” She looked back at George, scowling angrily “He knows nothing!”

“Nothing?” He rose his barely-there eyebrow at her (they’re blond and his skin is like milk, you can’t actually see them, its like his got no eyebrows at all!).

“That’s what he said”

“And by the way, you should control your temper a bit more” I danced one of my fingers above my lips, peeking out my tongue between them “A ghost like me can only resist so much temptation”

“You’re disgusting”

“You know you’ve missed me!”

“Right, and now we have to find a way to prevent any Ghost Touching incidents-”

“If I wanted to Ghost Touch you I would have done so the moment I threw your rapiers out” I leant even closer to her, making her and Lockwood and George step back once more, their backs getting against the far wall, which wasn’t that far actually, this room is ridiculously small “besides, I would’t have saved you and Lockwood from the explosion if I wanted you two dead, would I? There would be no point in that”

“…I suppose”

“exactly” I backed towards the wall again, allowing them room to breath again. I watched them from my corner as they discussed some more ‘security measures’ to keep me from ‘accidentally' Touching anything now that my jar couldn’t keep hold my reigns anymore, but in the end they decided to give me a chance and trust I would behave myself, much to Lockwood’s obvious annoyance (reckon Lucy will pay him a private visit later to content him).

Still, I stayed up in the attic, even after they went down, looking out the window. I was a ghost, a Type Three ghost for reasons I didn’t comprehend, I could do much worse than a poltergeist ever could even when fed with the wildest bouts of rage. If what Marissa had once said to me was right, I might some day be able to find an answer to the big questions of the world, but for what? Looking for those answers wasn’t half as fun as poking on Lucy’s side! No knowledge could bring a soul as me any comfort about our lives. I wouldn’t change my choice for my afterlife for any knowledge.

[askullinajar]

The Shattered Frame (Part 7/7)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

Fic info: this is a sequel to my previous fic, The Living Ghost so go read that or this won’t make sense. Rating: General. Pairings: Lucy/Lockwood, Holly/Rani. Ao3 link: here.

A cluster of hauntings in a decrepit manor and the dripping spectre of a woman dressed all in black hits a little too close to home for Lockwood & Co’s newest member.

Part 7 – The Family We Choose

We got back to the hotel just past midnight, soaking wet and shivering.

A hot shower had never felt so good before. I stood beneath the spray and let the hot water wash over me, trying, just for a moment, not to let myself think about all the horrible things that had occurred today. If that had been one of my sisters…

I shook my head to clear my thoughts. It was no good to dwell on the past when I could do nothing about it; all it served to do was make me more miserable, and I’d had enough of that for one day.

I towelled off my hair and changed into warm pyjamas before heading back into the bedroom, where Skully was curled up on his bed facing the wall. He hadn’t spoken a word since the manor, and I couldn’t think of anything to say that could possibly make him feel better.

There was a light knock on the door. I wrapped my duvet around my shoulders and shuffled over to answer it, to find Lockwood, George, Holly, and Kipps all stood on the threshold with their arms full of their duvets and pillows.

“What are you–?” I started, but George barged past me to dump the bedding on the floor.

“I have a feeling we should all stay together tonight,” Lockwood said, gently.

“I hope this is alright, Lucy,” said Holly. “Lockwood was quite persuasive.”

I glanced over my shoulder at Skully and caught his blank stare before he rolled back over to face the wall again.

“Yeah,” I said. “It’s fine.”

I felt weird sleeping on the bed when the others were on the floor, so I ended up curled between Holly and Lockwood. The carpet wasn’t as soft as my mattress, but the mountains of blankets shared between us all made up for it, and Lockwood’s chest made a good pillow.

I don’t know if the presence of us all gave some semblance of the large family he’d once had, but for once, I didn’t hear Skully stir at all during the night.

I guess Skully was successful in suppressing his emotions overnight because he was back to acting like his old self when he woke us all up the next morning.

“Move your arse, Cubbins, or you will find a foot in your face.”

I blearily opened my eyes as George garbled something unintelligible and promptly got trodden on by Skully as he made his way to the bathroom, though on the stomach rather than the face.

As George doubled over groaning, I sat up and rubbed the sleep out of my eyes. Late morning light shone through a gap in the curtains, igniting a beam of dust particles that floated lazily through the air. Holly was already up, looking prim and perfect, already clean and dressed, and was currently sat on my bed, reading a book to pass the time until the rest of us woke up.

I haphazardly ruffled my hands through my mane of a hairdo in an attempt to neaten it up a bit, but it was soon clear that it wouldn’t co-operate, and I let out a huff. Next to me, Lockwood gave a little chuckle before he sat up a pressed a quick kiss on the tip of my nose.

“Good morning, sleepyhead.”

Kipps made a gagging noise as I tugged the collar of my pyjama top up to hide my blush. “I know you two are in love and everything, but you don’t have to flaunt it in front of us single people.”

“Speak for yourself,” said George, getting up to go and get changed in his own hotel room.

We stared after him.

“Are… are he and Flo dating now?” said Lockwood.

“It was never quite clear, was it?” said Holly.

Lockwood and Kipps also left to get changed and, after Lockwood had used the hotel phone to inform Mr Taylor that his house had been successfully cleared, we all gathered back in mine and Skully’s room, looking a little more presentable.

“If everyone’s packed, we should be able to leave after lunch,” Holly announced.

“Oh, by the way,” said George, pointing at Skully, “when we get back, we’re doing some experimenting.”

“I will not hesitate to stab you in the face,” said Skully.

“But we need to figure out why you’re immune to ghost-touch!” George exclaimed. “Think about it! With research like that, we’d be on the right path to creating a vaccine that could save lives!”

“I’m not a lab rat.”

“Well, if you have any insights, feel free to share,” George huffed.

Skully shrugged. “How should I know? I didn’t even know I was immune until yesterday.”

My heart gave an unpleasant jolt. I frowned at him. “What? You didn’t know?”

Skully raised his eyebrows at me. He must have heard some tone in my voice because when he spoke it was a little apprehensively. “Uhhh… no…”

“But you… you let her touch you!” I said, my voice rising in pitch. “You could have died!”

“But I didn’t.”

“That’s not the point, you–!”

I almost shouted, but I stopped myself and took a deep breath to try and calm the sudden surge of anger and fear that had welled up within me. But, come to think of it, at that moment, I just didn’t care anymore.

“No. You know what? I am sick and tired of people I care about trying to sacrifice themselves for no reason!”

My friends had gone quiet and were staring at me. I guess they weren’t used to me actually using words to express how I was feeling, but, over the past few years, I’d learned that bottling stuff like this up always did more harm than good.

“Oh,” said Lockwood. “Am I being included here?”

I shot him a glare. “Yes, Mr ‘Deathwish’!”

“Ha!” said Skully. “I knew that nickname would catch on!”

At the look I gave him, he shut his mouth sharpish.

I took another deep breath and attempted to steady my voice before levelling a stern stare on both the dark-eyed boys standing before me.

“Your lives are not worth less than anyone else’s,” I said, firmly. “I don’t care if you’re being heroic, or just plain suicidal, if either of you puts yourself in unnecessary danger again, I’ll kill you, and I’ll make it look like a bloody accident.”

“Do you… not see the irony there?” said Skully.

“Oh, is that what irony is?” said Lockwood.

“James! Anthony!” I snapped.

They shut their mouths again. Lockwood’s ears grew slightly pink. Kipps eyed him reproachfully before muttering in my ear, “I know you were trying to be stern, Luce, but I think all you did was turn him on.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose and let out a breath of air, then I looked back up at Skully and Lockwood. “Just… stay safe, okay? I care about you idiots.”

“We know, Luce,” said Lockwood, gently. “We’re sorry.”

Skully mumbled something illegible and Lockwood elbowed him. “Yeah. Sorry,” he said, at last. “Won’t happen again… Probably.”

I rolled my eyes. Then I reached forwards and tugged them both into a hug.

“Jeez, you’re being so soppy lately,” said Skully.

“Shut up.”

I suddenly found myself shoved closer into the two boys as someone else joined the hug.

“George!” I objected.

“What? Are we not allowed to join the group hug?” George said as Kipps and Holly tackled us too, effectively trapping Skully between us all.

“Oh my god!” he exclaimed, trying unsuccessfully to wiggle his way out. “You people are disgusting!”

“Don’t be such a grump,” Holly chastised, giggling as she wrapped her arms tighter around mine and Skully’s shoulders.”

“We’re not letting you go until you embrace the family cuddle,” said Kipps.

“Alright, alright,” Skully huffed. “I love you guys, too. Now get off me.”

“No,” said George.

We had to eventually release him when there was a knock at the hotel room door, and a maid informed us that we had a visitor at the front desk.

Curiously, we made our way downstairs, and, upon reaching the foyer, Holly let out a cry of joy.

“Rani! What are you doing here?” she exclaimed, running forwards and flinging herself into her girlfriend’s arms.

“They gave me a couple of days off and I fancied a trip to the seaside,” Rani laughed. “It’s much easier to come here on the train when there’s only two of you.”

“Two?” I repeated.

Rani nodded over her shoulder to where a figure was visible through the glass door, slouching against a wall.

“Flo!” George exclaimed, rushing out to meet her.

“They wouldn’t let her in the hotel,” Rani said.

“I’m not surprised,” Holly replied, wrinkling her nose.

“Anyway,” said Rani, patting the wicker basket she was holding. “Who’s up for a picnic on the beach? Call it an early birthday party for Jimbo.”

“Oh, don’t you start,” Skully groaned.

“Sounds like a plan,” I said, ignoring Skully. “I’ve just got to grab something. Won’t be a sec.”

I pilfered Lockwood’s room key out of his pocket and jogged back up the stairs, returning a few minutes later carrying the shopping bag from a few days ago.

“What’s in there?” said Skully.

I gave him a wry smile. “You’ll have to wait and see.”

The wind was bitterly cold and blew sea spray in our faces, but as I sat there on the damp sand surrounded by my friends, trying to eat our picnic without getting sand in it, I couldn’t bring myself to care too much. It was rare that we let ourselves take the day off and relax a little. No research, no rapier practice, no nothing. Maybe one day, when the problem had died down, kids wouldn’t have to worry about such things anymore. Maybe one day, they could just be kids.

After the food was finished, we stayed sat in a circle, with mugs of hot tea from the thermoses Rani had brought.

“You didn’t bring enough sugar,” Flo complained, after adding the fifth spoonful to her mug.

“I know, right?” said Skully.

Rani ignored them and tugged something out of her backpack which she tossed at Skully. “Pre-birthday present,” she informed him. “Happy unbirthday!”

Skully eyed the large envelope contemplatively for a moment, then ripped it open and slipped the contents out onto his lap.

“…Documents?”

“Important documents!” Rani confirmed. “A birth certificate, national insurance number… even a driver’s licence for ID purposes, so you can buy all the beer you want. Though just a provisional one, mind. I don’t want you joy-riding.”

“Rani,” Holly said, mouth agape as she stared at the papers. “How did you–?” She couldn’t seem to be able to finish her sentence.

Rani coughed awkwardly. “It may have been, uh, a little less than legal.”

“Rani!” Holly scolded.

“What? The boy can’t just go around not technically existing!”

“Holly,” George said, amazed. “How did you get such a cool girlfriend?”

Holly crossed her arms and frowned at him. “What are you insinuating?”

“Who says I’m insinuating anything?”

“Thanks, Rani,” Skully interrupted before they started arguing.

Rani gave him a lopsided grin. “No problem, SkullyJim.”

“Alright, if we’re giving out presents now, you might as well have this,” I said, passing him the shopping bag.

“What lovely wrapping paper,” he said as he pulled out the package and ripped off the newspaper. He stared at the contents for a moment, before saying, “I have no idea what these are.”

“Cassette tapes,” I told him. “And a Walkman. Here.” I reached forwards and set up a tape inside the device, showing him which buttons did what. “You can get ones that play music, but these are audio-books. As in, they’re recordings of someone reading a book out loud. I’m gonna get you the paperbacks as well for your actual birthday, so you can read along. It might help you learn to read a little better.” He said nothing as he stared down at the Walkman, so I continued. “These books are my favourite, actually. They’re about this boy who finds out he’s a wizard, and–”

“Lucy?” he interrupted.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

I shrugged, but I felt my mouth pull up at the corners. “It’s nothing.”

“You can have my present on your actual birthday,” George declared.

Skully raised an eyebrow at him. “You actually got me a birthday present?”

“I’m working on it,” said George. “And it’ll be the best present. Just you wait.”

“I can hardly contain my excitement,” Skully monotoned.

After that, it got a little too cold to say sitting around, so Lockwood suggested we play a few games to get us moving.

We only managed to get through one.

The piggyback race was fun, in theory. And it was fun, for most of us. I think the problem came from picking partners randomly from names haphazardly scribbled on scraps of paper and dropped in Kipps’s woolly hat.

I ended up with Kipps, Rani with Lockwood, Flo with Holly, and, much to the amusement of the rest of us, George with Skully.

I had a bit of a hard time persuading Kipps to let me carry him.

“Hop on my back, you’re smaller.”

“No! I am the man here!”

“You’re still healing from getting stabbed!”

“I’m fine!”

“Quill,” Lockwood interrupted. “Lucy’s stronger. Now be a man, and get on that girl’s back.”

Kipps and I won in the end, even with him nearly strangling me from gripping around my neck too tightly in fear. Okay, so maybe it wasn’t such a fair race, seen as Lockwood had a limp from his ordeal with the ghost, and Flo dropped Holly from laughing so hard at George and Skully, because the latter, whose supernatural strength and long legs should have won him the race easily, decided to take a detour to the sea and hurl a squealing George in.

We had the go back to the hotel after that, but at least Skully seemed much happier.

I knew our picnic was just a momentary distraction for him, knew that he’d still wake at night from terrible dreams that I was sure would now be filled with images of his sister. But, for now, he seemed okay. And maybe one day, he’d be okay for good; his past wouldn’t haunt him, he’d sleep through the night.

Whether such a day was possible or not, I knew Lockwood & Co. would always be there to help him try.

Because that’s what family is for.

Epilogue – And the Family We’re Given

George slammed a crammed folder onto the table in front of the half-eaten birthday cake, scattering our monopoly pieces to the floor.

“What the hell, George?!” I exclaimed. He had ruined the game, and I had been totally about to win, okay? Flo’s success was sure to be fleeting.

“Where on Earth have you been?” said Holly, looking him up and down. “You’ve been gone a week, and you look like death!”

“Archives!” said George, a manic gleam in his eye. I had a feeling he’d been staying awake on energy drinks mixed with coffee. Flo was such a bad influence on him. “Skully, I give you your birthday present!”

Skully raised an eyebrow. “You remember I’m not so good at reading, right?”

George waved his hand, dismissively. “No, no, no, this is just my research. You don’t have to read it. But you’re gonna wanna hear it!” He grinned hysterically and began rifling through the pages of the folder with the air of someone who had definitely had one too many shots of espresso. “Oh, this is so much better than I’d originally planned!”

“Maybe cut to the chase, George,” said Lockwood.

“Okay, okay,” said George, pacing the length of the kitchen and muttering to himself as he held the open folder an inch from his face.

Rani leaned towards me. “Is this a thing that happens a lot?” she murmured in my ear.

“Sleep-deprived George, yes,” I replied. “Sleep-deprived George high on caffeine, not so much.”

George suddenly slammed the folder back down on the table in front of Skully and slapped his hands either side of it, shaking the table so that our bottles of fizzy-pop wobbled precariously.

“So, from Elizabeth’s letter, I found out you had a brother named Thomas, right?”

“That arsehole?” said Skully. “What about him?”

“He never married and died of dysentery!” George announced. “BUT! From him, I found out more about your other siblings, coz I figure some of them must have survived and had kids, right? And they did! But those lines kind of died out…” He wrung his hands and started pacing again. “All except one! Remember your little sister Penelope?”

“Oh, little Penny?” said Skully. “She used to come and pick pockets with me. Had the puppy-dog eyes. No one suspected a thing. How’d she do?”

“Pretty well, actually,” said George. “Married well, had a few kiddies. And those kids had kids, and those kids had kids, and–”

“Get to the point, Cubbins,” Skully interrupted. His eyes suddenly grew wide and he sat up straighter in his chair, hopefully. “Wait, am I related to Lucy?”

“Nope,” said George. “You’re related to Lockwood.”

I spat out the lemonade I’d been sipping all across the thinking cloth. Lockwood gaped. Skully seemed, for once, lost for words.

“What?” I exclaimed.

Kipps looked horrified as his eyes darted between Skully and Lockwood. “They do have the same eyes.”

“Yep!” George declared, grinning proudly. “I was able to trace Penelope’s line all the way down to her great, great granddaughter, Amelia, who married a rather dashing bloke by the name of John Lockwood. And they had a son. I’ll give you three guesses who.”

“My father,” Lockwood finished, finding his voice at last. “Donald Lockwood.”

“Look at that!” George cried. “You got it in one! So anyway, this makes Skully Lockwood’s great, great, great, great, great uncle.” He slammed the folder shut. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna have an enormous slice of cake, and then maybe take a nap for three days.” And with that, he sat down and cut himself a slice.

The kitchen was quiet as we all gaped at Skully and Lockwood, and they stared at each other. Then suddenly, Skully’s face split into a huge grin, and he reached forwards and ruffled Lockwood’s hair.

“Aww! My ickle nephew, A.J.”

“Please stop,” said Lockwood, but I could see the corners of his mouth quirking upwards.

Both boys had thought they’d had no living relatives, but now George had found family for both of them. I felt a little surge of pride for George; his incredible researching skills, and the fact that he’d gone so out of his way to get such a thoughtful gift for someone he pretended to hate. I made a mental note to try and be a little nicer to him in the future.

“Just out of curiosity,” said Skully, “if A.J dies, do I get the house?”

“Don’t even think about it,” I said.

“What? I’m not saying that I’m gonna kill him. Just that he has a knack for nearly dying, so if he does die…”

“The house is in my mother’s name, so no,” Lockwood said.

“Damn.”

“Also,” Rani chimed in with a sly smile. “Looks like you’ll end up related to Lucy, after all, Jim. When she and Lockwood get married.”

“Oh, yeah!” said Skully as I flushed bright red. “I’ll be like your great, great, whatever uncle in law.”

“Grunkle in law,” said George.

“I don’t think that’s how it works,” I said, as Skully lobbed a party hat at George’s head.

“Whatever,” said Rani. “This is still a cause for celebration! Well… more celebration. Group photo time! Everyone in the back garden!”

“But it’s freezing out there,” Kipps complained.

“We’ve gotta do it for the autumnal backdrop aesthetic,” Rani insisted, and she went to wake up Barnes, who had begrudgingly attended the party because he had ‘nothing better to do’ and had fallen asleep on an armchair in the living room while the rest of us played monopoly.

Rani quickly showed him how to work her camera before coming to join the rest of us as we lined up in front of the apple tree and quickly tried to make ourselves look slightly more presentable, except for Flo and George, who didn’t seem to care.

I stood between Lockwood and Skully, my arms around both of them, and tried not to blink as Barnes took his time with the camera, grumbling something about ‘new-fangled technology’.

He managed to snap the photo, eventually, and caught the exact moment that Skully shoved George over and yanked me into a head-lock.

Immortalised forever was an image of me yanking on Lockwood’s tie in an attempt to save myself, George grabbing onto Kipps’s shirt and dragging him down with him, Holly reaching out in vain to try and catch them, Flo cackling, and Rani hunched over in mirth. And Skully, stood right in the centre of the chaos, grinning his sadistic grin.

So maybe it wasn’t the most glamorous photo in the world. But it was, in my opinion, one of the better family photographs I’d been a part of.

Previous

[wolfjawswriter]

“Her Frauds” - Lockwood x Lucy

“Her Frauds” - Lockwood x Lucy

Lockwood and Co. Series

Summary: She was no more than a fraud.

————Lockwood ————

“Lockwood, could you get that call?”

The phone had been ringing for a few seconds now. I was sitting in the kitchen eating toast while George ate some donuts we bought today. Holly was just putting something in the oven and Quill was reading something in The Times.

It was a few hours after midnight, we had just come from successfully capturing a Raw Bones in, I would say, record time. Though, it would have definitely been easier if Lucy had been with us.

After we exploded the Rotwell facility and returned from Albury Castle with a good sum of money and many thankful villagers, Lucy rented a new apartment away from Tooting and retook her freelancing. When she and I were on the chain circle, surrounded by spirits and ghost, I told her of how much we all missed her and how we needed her with us. I asked her to come back, to rejoin the company, but she refused.

“I’m sorry Lockwood” She said once we were out of the Other Side “I can’t come back”

“But” I countered “We need you, Lucy. What that fetch told you is a lie”

“I want to believe it is, but I can’t be sure Lockwood, and neither can you. But this doesn’t mean we can’t work together again” She smiled at us “If you guys need any help, or just, want to catch up, you guys can always call me”

And we had. Seeing Lucy from time to time was something all of us, including Quill, looked forward to every time.

“Sure thing” I left my toast on the plate and walked out of the kitchen towards the phone, which was still ringing in its holder. I picked it up from the table and leaned against the wall.

“Lockwood and Co., Anthony Lockwood speaking”

“Lockwood?” The voice on the other line was small and a little distant, but I could tell who it belonged to with ease.

“Lucy! Hey, how are you?”

“Lockwood, I need to tell you something” Her voice sounded stained and tired, and I knew it was not an effect from the phone, since I had heard Lucy on the phone many times and she always sounded happy and energetic. Immediately, I became concerned.

“Luce, what’s wrong?”

“Are the others there?”

“Erm, yes…yes, they are in the kitchen”

“Bring them over to the phone” She sucked air sharply and groaned with a soft gasp “I need them to hear this”

“Guys!” I turned back to the kitchen and brought the phone with me. Quill had left the news and was now talking with Holly about visitors-know-what, and George was scribbling on the thinking cloth “Guys, its Lucy, she wants to tell us something” They immediately stopped what they were doing and looked at me expectantly. I placed the phone on the table and turned the speaker on “Lucy, I have everyone here with me, I've put you on speaker”

“Guys?” Her voice came as a whisper, then her throat cleared “-you guys there?”

“Yes, Lucy” Holly said from her seat. We had all leaned forward on our chairs to listen better “We are all here”

“I need to- I need to tell you something important” Her voice was strained once again, like something was pressing on her, but she continued “It is very serious and I need you to listen to me”

“What is it, Lucy?

“I lied” We stared at each other in silence, as we heard Lucy grumble something away from the phone on the other line. She lied?

“Lucy, what to you-”

“I lied guys” A sharp breath and a shaky sigh “Type Threes don’t exists”

Our mouths opened and closed without a sound coming from them, like fish in a tank.

“Lucy,” I said, a confused laugh escaping me “What are you talking about, you talk to the skull all the time-”

A laugh came from the phone. A mocking, sarcastic and satirical laugh. Like a slap in the face with a wet towel.

“The skull? Its just a bloody type two in a jar” She said through her cynical laugher “It was never able to talk and never will”

“But everything you told us” George intervened, his eyes moving frantically behind his glasses, rifling through his mind and in his thoughts “Everything it ever told you, you discussed with it daily!”

“I faked it. All of it. I lied”

George huffed angrily, hit the table with his fist and turned back to the phone like an enraged bull fixing on his target.

“Lucy, what are talking about, you proved to us type threes exist! The skull was Bickerstaff's minion, he told you so himself! Lockwood and I were there!”

“He never told me anything, George” Her breaths became raspier, but I pushed that aside and focused on her words “I made it up”

“What…?”

“I made it all up. It was never real” I had enough of this. I pushed my chair back with my legs, making it screech on the floor and tumble away, hitting other things in its way.

“Lucy, this is not a funny joke!” I uttered infuriated, my hands white from holding myself on the table in case my legs gave away “Why are you telling us this? This all can't be true! Your talents are outstanding, incomparable!”

“I- I lied, Lockwood. I lied to you and to everyone. I wanted to impress you”

My mind flew back to when I hired Lucy all those years ago. Just a girl in the need of a job coming to the smaller agency on London. I had known from back then that her abilities as a agent were beyond anything I had expected because of how well she did on our tests. And when Lucy told us about how the skull had talked to her after the Combe Carey Hall case, I had not hesitated to trust her. I had no reason to hesitate.

“That’s all I ever wanted. I only wanted you to see me as someone important”

Lucy’s conversations with the skull had always helped us in lots of cases; more times than those rememberable had it saved us from certain death.

“I’m sorry guys. I’ve disappointed you. I’ve disappointed all of you. I am a fraud”

“Lucy, stop this” I declared through greeted teeth. My body was shaking as I gripped the table. George was sitting, his face an unreadable expression as he looked at the thinking cloth. Quill and Holly both looked like they would be sick “Stop this right now!” I made my mind up and let go of the table “Where are you? We are coming for you”

“No! Stay where you are! Do this one thing for me guys, don't leave, don't hang the phone, its all am asking for!” Lucy’s voice was urgent and panicky on the other line, but somehow it made me remain where I was. We could hear her breathing still racking and she was grumbling things that we couldn’t make out.

“Lucy…”

“I want you guys to remember this” Her voice became steady for once, her breathing was profound and I could almost hear her gulping “And to tell my sisters, your families, your friends, in fact, tell anyone who will listen to you; I am a fraud!”

Then Holly finally looked up from where her hands covered her face.

“But Lucy, why now-?”

“Its my note” Another labored sigh “People do this when they leave, don’t they? They leave a note”

“Lucy, wait-!”

“Bye guys”

The phone ringed as the call was cut short.

————

“Guys!”

Holly came into the room running like a mad woman, a bundle shoved under her arms as she steadied herself.

We had spent all night pondering and discussing about the call. About everything that Lucy said and what she may have meant by it. We all knew, including Quill, that for a long time now, Lucy had been able to talk to ghosts. She could connect with them, emote with them, which in many cases could be dangerous. But now, all of a sudden, she called in, saying it was all a lie?

Without a word, Holly let the bundle she was carrying fall on the table. The Times.

Today’s edition, to be precise.

“Holly-”

“Read it” Pale faced and shaky, she opened it in front of us and rifled through the pages until she found what she was looking for. Post Mortum section.

The page had a huge headline under a photo of a body, stabbed, bleeding from wounds in its chest and stomach, but swelled and purplish-blue from ghost touch. It read;

“LOST FREELANCER FOUND”

“Just this morning, a few hours ago, a freelance agent was found dead on the streets after what seems to have been a very gory battle with more than one visitor and, probably, alive people. The body has been identified as Lucy Joan Carlyle”

I looked up from the papers. I didn’t need to read more.

After spending all night thinking about it, trying to deny what was in front of my eyes, I couldn’t find it in me to do it any longer.

She had talked for herself last night, no matter how much it hurt to listen. There would be no finding out why she decided to tell, why we had to know, why didn’t Lucy let us live in the lie. I could have happily stayed in that lie forever. But not anymore.

Lucy was a fraud. A liar. A cheat. A phony. A viper; a back-biting snake!

And that got her killed.

She got what she asked for.

And to think I had been madly in love with her for years.

[askullinajar]

The Shattered Frame (Part 5/7)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

Fic info: this is a sequel to my previous fic, The Living Ghost so go read that or this won’t make sense. Rating: General. Pairings: Lucy/Lockwood, Holly/Rani. Ao3 link: here.

A cluster of hauntings in a decrepit manor and the dripping spectre of a woman dressed all in black hits a little too close to home for Lockwood & Co’s newest member.

WARNING: There’s some detail about near-drowning at the start. Idk if anyone will be affected by that, but if you are, I won’t be offended if you skip it. Just Ctrl + F your way to ‘strong hands’. Happy reading, everyone!

Part 5 – An Icy Swim

The cold hit me all at once, seeping into my clothes, biting into my skin. My heart raced, blood rushed in my ears, I almost gasped for air in my blind panic. As a reflex, I thrashed around, frantically trying to get back to the surface, but I’d fallen in at an odd angle and struggled to contort my body the right way around.

After a terrifying few seconds, I managed to force my way to the surface, but I barely had time to gasp for air, and to see Lockwood being blasted back from the pool with Elizabeth reaching out for him, before the water churned around me and dragged me under again.

Lockwood. He needed help. I needed to help him.

I kicked my legs frantically, trying to fight against the heavy equipment on my belt that was pulling me down, but my hefty boots weighed my legs down. That, the numbing cold, the ghost lock creeping into my heart… it all made my movements sluggish.

I reached out and grasped at the edge of the pool, but my hands slid on the slimy tiles. My lungs screamed for oxygen. I tried to keep a grip on the edge of the pool, tried to gather enough strength to haul myself up.

Distantly, I heard people shouting. I recognised my friends’ voices; George and Kipps, then Holly and Skully. They’d help Lockwood. He’d be okay.

My head pounded painfully, my chest burned. I was cold, so cold. And tired.

I couldn’t stifle my reflexes anymore. I gasped for air, and water rushed into my lungs in its place. My fingers slipped from the tiles…

Then strong hands grabbed my arms and hauled me out of the water.

I sat there, on the wet grass, pressed up against Lockwood’s chest and coughing water up.

“Lucy? Lucy, are you alright?”

I gasped for air between coughing fits, and each breath seemed to rip my throat apart on the way down. I clutched at the arm Lockwood had around my torso for support, shivering violently. He was staring at me, eyes wide and frantic.

“Oh, I’m just dandy,” I croaked out at last, though I guess I didn’t convince him because he removed his coat and wrapped it tightly around me.

The others stood nearby, looking terrified as they gazed down at me.

“What happened?” I said.

“We got here just as it… Elizabeth was about to touch Lockwood,” Holly said. “Skully sort of…blasted her away.”

I looked over at my friend. He seemed pale and was staring into space with hollow eyes.

George seemed to have noticed, too. “Alright there, Skully? You look like –”

“If you say like I’ve seen a ghost, I’m cutting you,” Skully said, looking up abruptly to shoot George a glare.

“Jeez, why’re you so tetchy?” George said, holding his hands up in mock surrender.

“Maybe because my best friend nearly drowned!”

“Oh, so now you care about people?”

“Lucy? Sure. If you wanted to take a dip in the pool, however –”

“Stop it!” I shouted. “Both of you, stop it! You’ll only make her stronger if you fight.”

“Maybe we should just call it a night,” Kipps suggested.

“No,” I said. “We can get this place cleared tonight, I know we can. I’m not letting that bitch hang around, so she can try and drown anyone else.”

“Lucy, you’re soaking wet and freezing,” Holly tried to reason. “You need to warm up or you’ll catch a cold. Or worse.”

“There’s a fireplace in the living room, we should be able to start a fire,” said Lockwood. “At least stay there and warm up while the rest of us handle this.”

I didn’t want to agree with him – I wanted to track that ghost’s source down and snuff it out for good – but I guess I wouldn’t be much use in the state I was in, so I nodded.

Holly still looked concerned. “It’ll take forever for your clothes to dry. You could still get sick.”

“I’ll dry her off first,” said Skully.

George raised an eyebrow at him. “And how d’you plan on doing that?”

Skully cracked his knuckles. “I have my ways. Luce, see that porch railing? Go hang onto it as tight as you can.”

It was with great apprehension that I slipped out of Lockwood’s coat and approached the railing, but I was desperate to warm up; my sopping clothes weighed me down and I was numb all over. I wrapped my stiff fingers as tight as I could around the railing.

“Ready?” said Skully.

“No.”

The gust of psychic wind nearly sent me flying, but I held on even tighter and squeezed my eyes closed. My hair whipped painfully against my face, my clothes flapped harshly around me. It wasn’t nearly as cold as most ghostly winds, I’d give him that, but still far from pleasant, and when it finally died down, I glared daggers at Skully.

“I h-h-hate y-you,” I said as my teeth chattered together and I shivered violently.

“You’re welcome,” said Skully, as Lockwood came over and wrapped his coat back around me. I was still freezing, but at least my clothes were now relatively dry, if completely wrinkled.

I sat, cross-legged, in the centre of the iron chain in the living room while the others ran around collecting firewood and building a fire. I don’t know how she’d managed to find them, but Holly bundled me up in several moth-eaten blankets, so Lockwood could have his coat back.

“Try not to smother her, Hol,” George said, snickering as Holly continued to fuss over me, pouring me mugs of boiling tea from our thermoses. I didn’t mind so much; with the roaring fire, the piles of blankets, and the warm cup of tea in my hands, feeling was finally starting to return to my body. It hurt like hell, but at least it was something.

Lockwood eyed Skully, who was still seeming a little off; he hadn’t insulted George in a whole ten minutes, it was kind of disconcerting. Lockwood clapped a hand on his shoulder. “How about you stay here and keep an eye on Lucy. Make sure she stays out of trouble.”

Skully shrugged. “I mean, I’ll try, but I can’t promise anything.”

I shot both of them an unimpressed look.

Lockwood came over to where I was sitting and knelt in front of me. “You sure you’re okay, Luce? You gave me a fright there.”

I smiled at him. “I’m fine. Had to add nearly drowning to my list of near-death experiences at some point, I guess.” I didn’t tell him that my lungs still burned. That I could still feel the water pressing in on me.

Lockwood laughed, but it was short and sounded forced. “I’d rather you stopped having any near-death experiences at all.”

“Yeah, well, join the club.”

Lockwood just looked at me for a moment, his brows pulled slightly together, and his mouth tugged up a little at the corners. I wish I knew what he was thinking. Then he leant forwards and pressed his lips to my forehead.

“We’ll get this place sorted out. Stay safe, Lucy.”

“You too, Anthony.”

His cheeks got a faint pink dusting at that, and I committed that look to memory. Then I watched as he, George, Kipps, and Holly ventured back out of the living room to confront the Visitors, leaving me alone with Skully.

He walked forwards and sat beside me in the iron circle. I unwrapped the top blanket layer and draped it over both our shoulders.

“You okay?” I said.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You just seem a little off, that’s all. Do you wanna talk about it?”

I was met with silence. I took that as a no and looked back at the fire.

“My family are only a few hours away from here,” I said, changing the subject. “I’m half tempted to pay a visit.”

“Why don’t you?”

I shrugged. “My sisters are all scattered. I don’t really get along with my mum. I could always just visit Mary, I suppose.”

“She your favourite?”

I glanced over at him. “Didn’t you have a favourite sibling?”

There was a pause, then, “My twin, I guess.”

I nearly spat out the tea I’d been sipping on. “Twin?! There was more than one of you in the world?!”

He rolled his eyes. “Twin sister.”

“Marginally better, I suppose,” I conceded. “Which one of you was born first?”

He huffed. “She was. But that made me the incredible seventh child, so can’t complain much.”

I frowned. “I’m a seventh child. Why’s that so special?”

“Not heard all the folklore around seventh children?” he said. “Why d’you think your Talents are so strong? Why d’you think Bickerstaff hired me?”

I shrugged it off, though I had been wondering why my Talent had been doing the opposite of fading as I got older. “What was your sister like?”

He shrugged. “Stubborn, bit of a temper, wanted people to think she was all strong and mature but she was actually a huge dork.”

The description sounded like someone I knew, but I couldn’t quite think who. “She sounds cool.”

He picked at a loose thread in the blanket. “Yeah, she was.”

He seemed uncomfortable with the conversation, so I let the matter drop. I shuffled closer and rested my head on his shoulder.

“You’re being soppy again,” he told me.

“I nearly froze to death. I need the warmth.”

“I don’t know how much warmth you’re gonna get from a half-dead guy.”

“Shut up and let me be soppy.”

We sat in companionable silence for a while, watching the flames dance and listening to the wood crackle. I could hear a few distant sounds – water dripping, faint voices – but no Visitors bothered us in the living room.

“Thanks for saving Lockwood, by the way,” I said, after a while.

“You would’ve killed me if I didn’t,” Skully replied.

“True, but we both know that’s not why. You’re becoming best buds.”

Skully scoffed. “Sure. I’ll be the best man at your wedding.”

I ignored the way my heart jolted at the thought of marrying Lockwood one day. “Shut up,” I told him. “Besides, you can’t do that when you’re giving me away.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Am I, now?”

“I mean, my dad’s dead. I don’t have any uncles or brothers or anything. You’ll have to do.”

“Charming.”

We heard a crash come from downstairs. I sat bolt upright, listening. I heard a scream – Kipps, I think – followed by a shout from Lockwood, then, faintly, the gush of water.

I lurched to my feet and grabbed my discarded rapier.

“Lucy,” Skully warned. “You need to rest. They can handle it.” But I was already charging out of the door, towards the stairs to the basement.

Previous Next

[askullinajar]

The Shattered Frame (Part 4/7)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

Fic info: this is a sequel to my previous fic, The Living Ghost so go read that or this won’t make sense. Rating: General. Pairings: Lucy/Lockwood, Holly/Rani. Ao3 link: here.

A cluster of hauntings in a decrepit manor and the dripping spectre of a woman dressed all in black hits a little too close to home for Lockwood & Co’s newest member.

Part 4 – Redwood Manor

Mr Taylor turned out to be a timid shadow of a man in his late thirties, with eyes that darted back and forth like prey on the lookout for its predator. According to George, he’d been quite the formidable agent in his youth, but the fading of his Talent had left him jittery, terrified of being killed by the ghosts he could no longer see.

He guided us around the manor with the air of someone who would rather be in a cage with several lions who hadn’t eaten in weeks, because at least then he could see them. His stuttering commentary accompanied us from the vast foyer, through the living room with its musty armchairs and wide fireplace, upstairs through the dusty bedrooms, and downstairs to the basement that used to be the servants’ quarters, but was now used to store old furniture draped in moth-eaten sheets.

He refused to enter any of the bathrooms or the kitchen, informing us that many had been found drowned there, and he stayed on the porch when he took us to the back garden where the swimming pool was situated.

“Th-that’s where they found Lady Moore,” he stammered, gesturing weakly to the empty pool.

I walked up to the edge and peered in. Thick slime and dirt obscured the tiles, and puddles of old rainwater had formed in cracks at the bottom.

“Wouldn’t want to drown in there,” I said, grimacing.

Lockwood patted Mr Taylor on the shoulder. “Well, Ms Moore won’t be bothering you for much longer. How about you head off home before it gets dark and we’ll set up?”

Mr Taylor wasted absolutely no time in leaving us alone in the garden.

“See any death glows yet?” I asked Lockwood.

He hummed. “There’s one in the middle of the pool, quite bright already. I suppose it’ll only get brighter.” He pulled out his spare pair of sunglasses from his coat pocket and handed them to Skully for later.

I’d never been on a case with the living, breathing Skully before. None of us had. He tended to lounge around at home while we went out and risked our lives. I didn’t question it much; I just guessed he’d had enough of death. It was a shame, though; with his connection to the Other Side, Skully’s Talent was the strongest out of all of us. He had Sight as sensitive as Lockwood’s and Listening on par with mine. That, combined with his supernatural powers, meant clearing this manor of Visitors shouldn’t be too much trouble, as long as he actually cooperated.

Kipps put on his goggles. As a group, we scouted out the manor again, this time putting our combined talents to use and checking the temperature as we went along.

We set up our first iron chain in the living room in front of the fireplace, dumping all our spare equipment in it, then we set up smaller chains outside the bathrooms, kitchen, the back porch, and, finally, the basement, which was a few degrees colder than was natural.

The temperature steadily dropped as the sun gradually dipped below the horizon, colder near the water sources; dozens of death glows appeared, forcing Skully and Lockwood to don their sunglasses; shadowy figures began to drift through the hallways, but they seemed harmless for now, and I caught faint gurgling sounds coming from the kitchen sink.

As we were circling the perimeter of the house near the pool, Skully let out a yell.

“LOOK OUT!”

I nearly jumped out of my skin, Holly shrieked, Kipps squealed and clutched my arm, George leapt several feet into the air and his glasses went flying, Lockwood stumbled and fell flat on his face.

“Oh,” said Skully. “Never mind. Just a shadow.”

I slapped his arm.

“Ow!” he yelped. “What was that for?!”

“You know exactly what that was for!”

“Is this what you had to put up with on cases, Luce?” said Kipps, glowering at Skully who grinned evilly back at him.

“You have no idea,” I replied.

“No more of that,” said Lockwood, pushing himself to his feet and wiping mud off his sunglasses. “I think it’s time to form a plan.” He turned to face us as George retrieved his glasses off the ground and fumbled to put them on while glaring daggers at Skully. “Right, so I reckon we should split up to cover more ground. That way there’s more chance of one of us stumbling across a source. If you see Elizabeth Moore… Skully, are you listening?”

“What?” said Skully, abruptly. “Oh. No, I was just looking at this cloud over there. Looks just like Barnes on a moped.”

“Oh my god, it does,” I said as the others hummed in agreement.

Lockwood pinched the bridge of his nose. “Okay, as much as that cloud looks like Barnes on a moped, and it really looks like Barnes on a moped, we have some sources to find. Skully?”

“Yes?”

Lockwood spoke slowly, maintaining eye contact with the inattentive ex-ghost. “We’re going to split up…”

“Yes.”

“And if we see Elizabeth Moore…”

“Yes.”

“We… You’re not listening, are you?”

“Yes. Wait. What? No, I zoned out again.”

I slapped my palm against my forehead.

“Okay, new plan,” said Lockwood. “We split into twos. Whoever’s with Skully, make sure he doesn’t break anything and/or kill anyone. I’ll go with Lucy–”

“Shocker.”

“Shut up, George. We’ll take the garden. Quill and George, take the top two floors. Skully and Hol, take the ground floor and basement. If any of you see Elizabeth Moore, scream, and the rest of us will come running. Got it?”

We nodded, all except Skully, who was pulling at a loose thread in his coat. Holly had to tug on his sleeve to get him to follow her.

“She better come back in one piece!” I called after them.

“Of course,” Skully called back. “She promised me cake. Enjoy your moonlit walk, lovebirds.”

I stuck my tongue out at him as he disappeared into the house with the others.

I walked the grounds with Lockwood’s familiar presence at my side. A few wispy shapes had formed near the pool.

“Make out any details, Lockwood?” I asked.

“They’re not fully formed yet, but they look like kids to me,” he replied. “Agents who met a bad end, possibly.” He paused for a moment, then said, “You can call me Anthony, you know?”

I looked up at him. “What?”

“It’s just…” His brow furrowed as if he was thinking over his next words. “We’re together now, right? It seems weird for my girlfriend to call me by my surname.”

I blushed at the term ‘girlfriend’, still not used to it. “Anthony,” I said, rolling the word on my tongue, trying it out. I smirked at him. “What if I wanna call you ‘big A’.”

“Then I’m dumping you,” he monotoned.

I stuck my bottom lip out. “That’s just mean.”

He laughed at my expression and nudged my side as we continued walking past the pool. “Just kidding. I’d never let you go, Luce. Even if you called me ‘big A’.” He stuck out his tongue in disgust.

“And what about ‘A.J’,” I said, casually.

Lockwood’s brow furrowed, and he looked at the ground. “Jessica called me that, sometimes.”

I glanced over at him. “You didn’t seem to mind when Skully said it.”

He shrugged. “It’s… I don’t know. It seemed normal when he said it. Guess he’s growing on me.”

I smiled slightly. “Well, my best friend and my boyfriend need to get along…”

I stopped walking. Lockwood looked over at me and raised his eyebrows questioningly. “I hear water,” I said. It was getting colder, too. My breath puffed out in front of me.

Lockwood frowned. “Wait, I hear it too.”

I looked up at him, confused; his Listening was usually terrible. If he could hear it, then…

I turned back towards the pool. I watched as water gushed into it from an unknown source, rapidly filling it all the way up to the brim.

“Lucy!” Lockwood shouted. I whipped back around to see he had his rapier drawn and was facing down a Visitor who hovered a few feet in front of him.

She was dressed all in black, and the fabric rippled and flowed around her form as if weightless. Thick tendrils of dark hair swirled around her pale face and dark, hollow eyes stared towards us. It was as if she was eternally floating underwater.

And, around her, more Visitors gathered, getting more defined as they drew closer, as if gaining strength from the psychic energy she radiated, until I could clearly see every hair plastered to their foreheads, their clothes dark and weighed down, the water dripping from their locks, down their noses, their sleeves, their legs, pooling beneath them on the grass below.

My ears buzzed with psychic humming; words I couldn’t quite make out.

“Elizabeth?” I addressed the ghost. Lockwood glanced over at me but didn’t attempt to stop me.

Faint words. “…gone…can’t…”

“What is it you want?” I said. “We can help you.”

“…can’t find him… gone… need to find him…”

“Your brother?” I said. “Can you tell me his name?”

The ghost snapped her necked up and stared right at me, her face contorted into a hideous expression before she let out a spectral shriek. “GONE!”

I stumbled backwards from shock. Lockwood unclipped a salt canister from his belt and hurled it at the ghosts’ feet. It exploded, sending grains of salt everywhere and making ectoplasm hiss and sputter. The Visitors flickered out, but Elizabeth reappeared only a few feet back and raised a huge gust of freezing wind that smacked into us with full force and sent us staggering backwards towards the pool. It kept blowing, whipping our hair back from our faces, forcing us ever closer to the water.

With great effort, I grabbed a magnesium flare and, squinting against the harsh wind, threw it in the general direction of Elizabeth’s ghost.

There was a flash of Greek fire, and Elizabeth momentarily flickered out again, giving us a brief respite from the spectral wind, but it didn’t last long.

She reappeared even closer and sent another blast of air our way. My feet teetered on the edge of the pool, the icy water lapped at my ankles. It only took one more gust of wind to knock me over.

I just had time to scream, and to hear Lockwood shout my name, before I was enveloped by the frosty water.

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