Shot At Combe Carey Hall

Celebrations

The following days were slow and quiet in 35 Portland Row. Returning from the hospital the boys took turns cleaning the layers of filth from their bodies while Lucy hobbled her way into her room to rest in the comfort of her familiar bed.

Lockwood spent a great deal of his time doing interviews and being questioned further by Inspector Barnes, George dealt with the rise in clients they had, and poor Lucy spent her hours laying in bed reliving the case and all the little things she'd done that she now thought were big mistakes.

With each passing day her confidence dwindled and she became isolated. Only seeing her coworkers during meals and on the few occasions she wanted help cleaning and wrapping her leg.

The bullet had clipped her left leg along the outer fat of her thigh, it was a deep and long gash just an inch above her knee. She had been hit at an angle which had actually been a lucky coincidence according to the doctor, leaving a gash stretching upward and outward for several centimeters. The damage was as minimal as you can get when it comes to being shot but the pain was intense.

Even with the help of pain killers Lucy found it difficult to leave her bed some days, on a few occasions she refused to come down to meals simply because she didn't want to move her leg. The pain killers she had been prescribed were a lower dosage than the average person would have received but in the eyes of the hospital she was not an average person.

Being a child "gifted" with Talent Lucy soon realized she would never be treated the same as her peers. For the most part this was a wonderful thing, as she walked the streets of London with her rapier on her belt and her colleges at her side people moved out of the way, there was a respect she got for the dangerous work she did. However this was one of the few times her status negatively impacted the decision made around and about her, the doctors feared strong medications would dull her mind and kill her Talent.

So the pain killers only helped so much. The boys only helped so much, the sweet concern they displayed each time they asked if she was alright quickly grew irritating. They moved about the house in the floors below chatting and enjoying the little vacation between cases while Lucy could hardly muster the strength to shower, their energy was vivacious and annoying.

After a short 5 days rest Lockwood wanted to throw a little party. He and George prepare the table as Lucy sat feeling quite useless in her chair watching them place plates of sausage rolls and jellies, pies and cakes, bottles of Coke and ginger ale all along the counters and table.

Lucy's mood brightened as they began to eat and talk, even when Lockwood made an ill-attempt to toast to the case and the success it brought the company Lucy was just happy to be laughing with her friends again.

Soon enough they ran out of ginger ale and donuts, George left to grab them from the basement leaving Lucy and Lockwood awkwardly smiling at each other.

"How's your leg?" Lockwood asked and though he asked this nearly three times a day every day, he still spoke with sincerity.

"Better but the pain is more or less the same. I took some pain killers before coming down so at the moment it's adequately bearable."

"I should have pushed them to give you a higher dosage." Lockwood gave his head a little regretful shake. "But I'm glad to hear it's healing."

There was a short silence, Lucy ran a finger along the rim of her cup and Lockwood shifted in his chair.

"Listen Lucy, there's something I've been meaning to ask you."

"Sure. Fire away."

"Back there in the library Grebe was going to shoot you, well he did shoot you but he was going to kill you."