the bones of our past - Lockwood x Lucy

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A/N: Alright, a bit of a breather for all of us since the next chapter is going to be quite intense (I think?) (I have the outline done but I just do not follow it strictly enough to make accurate predictions)

Also, I wanted to quickly announce that it's very likely at the moment that this fic will actually turn out to be a duology! So after we're done with the (≈) 23 chapters of 'bones of our past', there'll be a direct sequel coming out roughly the same length as this that will then conclude the story. Just so that no one screams at me if any of the storylines won't be completely wrapped up once we've reached the end - it's for a good and planned reason! :)

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It turned out that, despite how close of a call it had been for all of them, every member of Lockwood & Co. was, more or less, alright. George was surely a little worse for wear given how long he'd been ghost-locked, but he had already been moving again when Lucy and Lockwood had made it back down. Lucy's muscles ached from her sprint, and she was still a bit taken from witnessing the woman's death loop, too, but was completely fine otherwise. And Lockwood? Well, if he felt a little dizzier than normal, he didn't let on. He only commented that he thought the occasional shaking might even be beneficial for one's head, at which George looked at him darkly and spoke for the first time since being ghost-locked to shout at him.

No, in the end, it was nothing a quick cup of tea couldn't solve.

It also helped that, after the source of the wraith had been contained, the shade had been easy to banish, too. Its source was a pair of silver-framed glasses laying underneath a couch cushion that must've belonged to Sam's uncle, Bernard Colby.

They bagged both sources, despite knowing they would only use Bernard's source in the mill with the wraith being far too strong for a talentless agency to contain. But, as Lockwood put it, it was always better to have powerful paranormal objects than to not have them.

"And you saw your own face?" George asked Lucy and ripped her effectively away from her thoughts.

She'd just been telling her two colleagues about her vision, and Lucy could see the amount of curiosity this had sparked in George's eyes. "Yeah. Although it was far scarier than I think I look."

"Depends on your level of hunger, I'd assume," Lockwood quipped and gently nudged his leg against hers underneath the table. "You tend to become quite the gremlin once we run out of biscuits."

She shot him a grateful smile. Seeing herself like that - murdering a defenseless woman who, furthermore, she'd just been a moment ago - had been a rather unpleasant experience that freaked her out far more than she showed. Lucy still sometimes looked around to ensure herself that she was truly back , that this wasn't another vision, and every joke Lockwood made, every ounce of normality she could cling onto, calmed her down a little more.

"That's so weird," George commented, ignoring Lockwood's words. "I mean, sure, this time, your vision came from an actual powerful ghost with a source and not just from some object, so we could attribute your powerlessness to get sucked into it to that. But seeing your own face? That would no longer be part of a set death loop. Not if you weren't alive a hundred years ago."

"I wasn't." She hesitated before her next words. "But, maybe, the ghost wanted to show me something. Can't be an accident that the wraith didn't kill me whilst being ghost-locked, after all. I must've been out for a good few minutes, more than enough time for her to rush over and touch me with how fast she was moving afterward."

"So she wanted to show you something first before she... killed you?" Lockwood concluded, brows furrowing together.

"I don't think ghosts have that much foresight, Lucy," George countered.