Locklyle Reimagined [A Lockwood and Lucy Fanfic]

Please Tell Me There's Tea (Lockwood)

"Please don't kill me. I still have a cup of tea waiting for me at home, and it's getting cold."

A gunshot fired an inch past my head, and I flinched. My eyes shut tight, as though glued together by an adhesive. A year ago, I would have an entirely different reaction. I wouldn't have been...scared. Besides, getting shot in the head is the quickest way to go.

"Hey, Winkman!" Lucy shouted. She didn't sound any far, must be overhead of me. "Drop your gun."

"What are you going to do, sweetheart? Dance for me?" Winkman chuckled maniacally.

"Man, fuck that," I exclaimed. Trying to break out of the bind I was held back on. How dare he call her 'sweetheart'? That's already crossing the line here.

Another bullet was released, but by the looks of it—it came from where Lucy stood. When did she have the time to get a gun? The bullet went straight to Winkman's chest. A close one, for me. He fell backwards, as Lucy tried to untie me.

"Good one, Luce." I breathed, in between a few pants.

"Yeah. Well, it seems like trying to keep you alive is taking me rather difficult." She shook her head halfway through my being untied.

Once I broke out of my chain, Lucy and I made a run for the door. My heart rate hasn't even been down yet. So, I let Lucy take the lead. We made an enormous jump before we were finally out in the street.

"Though, I wonder, why'd you even pass on the opportunity to die, anyway? Isn't that what you like?" She said to me rather carelessly.

I feel my chest harden. My jaw suddenly clenched, and my head throbs. I furrowed my brows tight in order not to show the tears forming by the duct.

"Are you not happy that I'm alive?" I said, my voice tightened too, keeping me from croaking and choking out in my saliva.

"I am, I wouldn't have saved you if I didn't—" Her defence sounds like nothing but bullshit.

"Yeah, right, Luce? I owe you so much." I sighed, fighting back the urge to say such hideous and hurtful things that had come to mind.

"Oh, now you've decided to blow off on me. What's the matter with you?" And with that, she went on in big strides, as though she was walking alone, and on her own. Forgetting I was there.

I knew better than to call out to her. So, I decided to hang back, and maybe take the longer way that's always taken less.

I can't say I'm particularly scared of walking alone at night. There's so much to appreciate in the darkness. Although, I have a goal to at least not get myself in trouble by being ghost-locked. And so, I kept my hand steady at the hilt of my rapier.

There is more to life than dying. It is true. There is always someone needing you at the end of the day. I hate to think that either George or Lucy will be expecting me to come back to haunt them once I'm dead. I know what that type of grieving feels like. I've felt it for too long. Although some part of me wants to return, one day, once it will be my time to go.

I'd imagine how it will never be lonely since Lucy will talk to me, daily. She'll never get bored with me. And I will never leave her and George. Or maybe, just maybe, by dying—I'll have the answers to the mystery of the other side. George would be proud of me.

I hear a shuffling behind me, as I ponder at the thought of losing my home, my agency, my friends. Since it's all possible once I'm dead. I've gotta get home.

A figure emerges a few feet away from me. Oh, God. Isn't this such a night?

"'Evening, Locky," I was a bit startled. But it turns out, it's not so bad.