Under the Floorboards (and In the Walls)

Did You Miss Me Too?-Lucy

Home. I was home. And in Lockwood's arms. Not even joking. In one swift motion Lockwood scooped me up from the cab. I was suddenly very conscious that I had nothing to do with personal hygiene for several hours and I was still wearing the hospital gown. Of course, Lockwood was unphased. It was like nothing could touch him. My mind shot back to when I had found me on the bottom of the stairs. I suddenly remembered the fear in his eyes. Maybe not nothing.

With my arm around his neck he carried me up the stairs. George had dashed to the front opened the door for us. Lockwood carried me into the house and through to the front room.

For some stupid reason (I guess I get emotional when ghost-touched) my eyes filled with tears at what I saw. Lockwood had set up the sofa with blankets and pillows from my bed as a space for me. He deposited me carefully in the middle of it. Then he leaned down and oh so gently tucked a soft blanket around me.

"Thanks Lockwood" I sniffed. He looked at me with concern but didn't comment on it. He knelt down by the sofa and took my hand in his. It felt so good to be home the tears were really threatening to spill now. To be out of the hospital. I know I had been unconscious for a vast majority of it, but still. I could feel that it had been a long time. And I missed it.

"I'm really glad you're safe," he began, softly rubbing a circle into my hand with his thumb. "I don't know when you'll be able to walk again so unless you want to be stranded in your room this can become your base. Plus," he added with a grimace, "we haven't found the source yet."

"I think I could manage with crutches soon."

Lockwood pressed my hand. "I'm sure. But don't over do yourself. You're going to be very sore. Believe me." We chuckled, remembering back to when he got touched by Anabelle Ward. Not a fun time. And I was gotten so much worse than he was then.

George came in at that moment with a tray of tea things. He must have slipped back to the kitchen as soon as we got home.

"Excellent" Lockwood said, rubbing his hands together. George passed the tea around and we all settled down. Lockwood sat next to me and made my tea up for me. I didn't mind the attention but if they were going to treat me like a baby, this was going to get old really fast.

Lockwood leaned back and gave me a measured look. He seemed to be assessing me. My emotional and physical well-being. I straightened my shoulders and blinked, clearing my eyes. "Do you have any idea what the source is?"

My shoulders dropped.

George looked up at me over his mug. I could tell he had been wanting to ask the same question.

I frowned into the swirling brown liquid, not meeting Lockwood's eyes of the same color. "No, not at all."

"Have you taken anything from a case recently?" Lockwood pressed.

"No, Lockwood, honest." I was annoyed that he didn't believe me. Lockwood leaned back, still staring at me. I put my mug down. "I really didn't"

"This wouldn't be the first time," George put in. "If I had a donut for every time I've been woken in the night because a visitor suddenly appeared in your room, I'd have two donuts, which isn't a lot but it's weird that it's happened twice."

"We're not accusing you of anything," Lockwood said gently, "we are just worried. This is serious. You almost died."

I threw my hands up. "Yes I know I almost died. Why does everyone keep reminding me that? I was there. I know." Tears pricked my eyes. This time Lockwood did take notice and he passed me a handkerchief. Standing he gestured to a pile on the coffee table.

"I grabbed some things from your room if you want to change into something more comfortable. We can talk about this later after you've gotten some rest." Lockwood suddenly looked very uncomfortable. "Unless you need help or something."