Under the Floorboards (and In the Walls)

Unwelcome and Unwanted-Lucy

The boys had gone up to bed over an hour ago. I tried to go back to sleep. But it was just not going to happen. My leg throbbed. And I was so bored of being in here. I remembered Lockwood's touch when he checked on me in the night. Did that mean he cared about me? Cared about me in a different way than a friend and coworker and boss? I know I was a valuable asset so he would want me to be safe but it was the way he carried me in his arms. I felt so safe and... this was not good. I was going to break my heart over a boy I could never ever be with. I was ugly. He always expected me to do something stupid. Whenever we were on a case he was always asking me if I was ok or if the ghost was too strong or if I needed a rest. He thinks I can't even take care of myself. He knew how I failed my friends at Wythburn Mill. Norrie, Paul, Alfie, Julie, and Steph. They were all dead because of me. My mother was right. I would never become anything. I was a burden. A mistake. The sudden onslaught of emotion overwhelmed. With a sob I buried my face in my pillow and allowed myself a couple minutes of grief. After letting my feelings consume me for longer than I should have, I was cried out. Sniffing I reached for the glass of water Lockwood had left for me.

Then I stopped.

In the darkness I could have sworn I heard someone. Dang it. Did they hear me crying? How embarrassing!

"Lockwood?" I called softly. No answer. "George?" Still silence. Weird.

I took a drink of water and prepared to fall asleep when a weird feeling oppressed me. I opened my eyes again and the room wasn't so dark anymore. By the door a phantom arose. It grew in strength and size while I watched helplessly on the sofa.

Lockwood and George had prepared the living room so nice for me. A Kleenex box within hands reach. A pitcher of water. Magazines. Books. A box of biscuits. My cassette player. But not a rapier or anything useful against a visitor. My crutches were even wood. It looks like this this would be the third night I would awake the boys over a visitor in the house.

"LOCKWOOD!!!!" I screamed. "GEORGE!!"

Now normally I don't freak out when I see a visitor. I am one of London's best agents, if I do say so myself. But I wasn't so arrogant that I thought I was a good match against a phantom while stranded on a sofa with no iron.

The visitor wafted closer. Even though it was winter, it shouldn't have been strong enough to form like this so close to dawn. But it was powerful. I could feel it. And it was angry. My stupid crying had fed it. In fact, that explained why I was crying. Malaise had gripped me. I grabbed anything within reach and threw it at the walls. Trying to make as much noise as possible. The visitor was too close for comfort. I wasn't about to get ghost touched again.

"LOCKWOOD!!!" I screamed again as I pushed myself off the couch, propelling myself with my one good leg, and onto the coffee table. The visitor dove to where I had just been lying, seconds ago. I rolled off the coffee table, but I couldn't get far. The visitor was staring at me. It screeched loudly. My ears popped and I felt something trickle down my neck. This was it. And I never told Lockwood that I...

A salt bomb exploded.

"Lucy!"

Lockwood slashed through what was left of the disappearing ghost and flicked on the light.

As soon as it was gone Lockwood was at my side, lifting me up into his arms. He felt me for injuries. "Are you ok?"

"I'm fine," I said a little shakily.

Lockwood lifted me up in his arms, holding me tight. He set me down on the stupid sofa and to my relief and embarrassment, sat down next to me. He rubbed my arm. "Are you sure you're ok?" His dark eyes bore into mine. His lip quivered ever so slightly, the only physical evidence of his fear. His left arm around my shoulder steadied my nerves. He lifted his other hand to my face and brushed the hair away from my eyes. My hair was a certified mess. I tried not to lean into his hand.

"What's going on?" George stood in the doorway rubbing his eyes.

Lockwood dropped his hand from my face. But he still kept an arm around me. I was almost grateful for the interruption. Almost.

"There was a visitor in here. It almost got Lucy."

"Again?"

"It wasn't the same visitor." I broke in. "Not the same as the one in my room, I mean."

"Do you know where the source is?"

"I do." Lockwood surprised me. He stood up, taking the warmth with him. He flicked on a lamp and strode over to the fireplace where I had seen the ghost rise. He nudged the bucket of coal with his toe. "It disappeared into here. I'm positive."

-

The three of us sat on the floor. George brought another bucket in from the basement. Each of us would take a piece of coal, use our talent to decide if the coal was psychic and then toss it in the discard bucket. We were halfway through. Our hands were filthy. But still, nothing.

"This is the third time this has happened." George grumbled.

"Yes but let's not put these events in the same category. Annabelle's locket has been resolved. This is the second time this week that this has happened and that's what I'm worried about. These visitors are randomly appearing in my house and" Lockwood looked over at me, "they are targeting Lucy."

"Are the visitors targeting me, or is it just I've happened to be in the room with them?"

"Fair point. However, I don't like that you were almost murdered tonight with no way to defend yourself."

"What are you going to do? Wrap me in a silver net every night?"

Lockwood looked like he had already decided just that.

"No, that's ridiculous."

"Lucy." His voice held finality. I could never argue with him when he got like this. "I will not have anything happen to you," George snorted, "any of you," Lockwood continued without pause or recognition, "in my house. It should be safe here. We should be safe here to sleep without having to deal with visitors every five minutes. No." Lockwood chucked another chunk of coal in the steadily filling bucket. "We'll find this source and then we're going upstairs to find the other."

"Tonight?" George moaned.

"Tonight." Lockwood repeated. "I'm done putting it off."

"I found it!" I cried out, holding a chunk of grimy coal aloft.

George peered into the coal bucket. There was only a couple pieces left.

"Wonderful, Luce. I knew you could do it." Lockwood pulled a silver net from his pocket and carefully wrapped the coal. The psychic presence that I had felt so strongly before was gone.

"A piece of coal." Lockwood mused. "That's a new one for me. Must have been a super precious piece of coal to someone. I wonder how it got in our coal bin."

"Must have come in with the delivery of coal," I pointed out.

"Well of course Lucy. That much is obvious," George said rising and brushing his grimy hands on his filthy pajamas. Honestly some days I think he hung out with Flo too much. She was rubbing off on him. "The question is how they got it."

"One of the many mysteries of our profession." Lockwood smiled brightly. "Now, let's go tackle the attic." 

I hate to say this, but I won't be able to update until next week! I'm going on a trip and will be gone for a couple days. I'll try to update as soon as I get home though. Thank you all for reading. I hope you're having a lovely time. #SaveLockwoodandCo #FishandKipps