Under the Floorboards (and In the Walls)

Jessica's Brother-Lockwood

"Ok stop."

My hand was inches away from the door handle, I looked over at George. He stood with me on the chipped steps. Arms crossed; he gave me a measured look.

"You can't enter a haunted house with bad vibes."

"What do you mean, I'm fine."

"You're so not. This is our first case since everything. We need to be on top of it. We don't have Lucy so we're at a disadvantage."

"We'll be fine."

"We'll be fine if we keep it together. You're marble, Lockwood, untouchable. But even I can tell you're on edge and I have no social skills. So, if I can pick up on it, then it's bad."

I sighed and stepped away from the door. As much as I hated to admit it, George was right. Id been a bundle of nervous energy since... well, since finding Lucy crumpled at the foot of my stairs. I could usually keep my calm in any situation. Phantasms, Wraiths, Dark Spectres, Fetches, Limbress, Poltergeists, even a Raw-Bones. But I had a weakness. I tried to hide it but every so often it would rear its ugly head. When Jessica died I promised I would never let anyone get close again. But I did. Twice. And it came back to bite me. When George was almost murdered by the Bickerstaff's mirror. When Lucy was drug in by that psycho Adalaide Winkman. When Lucy grabs my hand after a case... Lucy both excites me and calms me. She's everything. But I can't think about her now. With effort, the mask slides over my face. I feel nothing. I don't care about anything. Destroying ghosts are the only thing important to me. I know the feelings are there. But for the moment I can turn them off.

I rolled my shoulders and took a deep breath. Flashing a quick smile at George I opened the door.

-

It was a quick case. Easy. In and out. Took no longer than four hours. Most of it was waiting for the visitor to manifest. A Poltergeist Some of the house was a mess. But the clean up was not our problem. I was in a hurry to get back home.

The source was a book. Pride and Prejudice. Apparently ghosts can have excellent taste.

We entered through the back so that we wouldn't disturb Lucy. My idea.

*CRASH!!* A coil of chains were now on the floor of the kitchen.

"Dang it, George, you're going to wake up Lucy."

"I'm already awake!" Lucy called from the living room. I won't lie. The fears in my chest calmed a bit. If there was one unknown source in Lucy's room who could know if there wouldn't be others? That thought had been worrying me all evening. But Lucy was safe.

"We'll be right in," I called, "Just making some tea."

"Bring me a cup!" Of course.

We brought our sandwiches and tea to share with Lucy. She put her book aside when we came it.

"Did the case go well?" she asked, eager, eyes shining.

"Oh perfectly," George said, settling into his armchair. "Except for when the visitor threw the complete works of William Shakespeare at my head."

Lucy chuckled. "I wish I could have been there to see it."

I wished she would have been there too.

"But be glad you weren't there to hear George's scream." George threw a pillow at me and I narrowly saved my mug of tea from being sloshed down my shirt.

"Did you sleep at all, Luce?" I asked, tentatively. I didn't want to sound overbearing but Lucy still looked exhausted from the effects of ghost touch. Dark circles marred her skin and her usually bright eyes seemed so downcast. And now she frowned slightly, her forehead creasing.

"Not really. The house makes a lot of odd noises that you notice a lot more when you're alone." She shrugged her shoulders. "Nothing, I'm sure. But my mind sure wanted me to think there was a person creeping around the house. I dozed for a bit. Eventually I couldn't stand it so I turned on the light and grabbed this book."

"Isn't it weird how houses sound like that?" George commented. "I've heard that freezing wood will shift and create all kinds of noises."

I wanted to stay longer but I was definitely beat and Lucy really should get more sleep. I changed her bandages and dolled out more pain meds. I wasn't amazing at first aide but I was glad to do this for her at least. It can't be very comfortable sleeping on a sofa. We would find the source and if I had to carry Lucy up three flights of stairs multiple times every day then so be it. The Skull had been left in the Kitchen all day. Normally I try to keep them apart because I don't trust the Skull, but I offered to fetch it. Lucy refused.

"He hasn't been too kind to me today." Was all she would say. I think they had an argument earlier while she was busy with the salt bombs. I was itching to know what it was about, but again, I didn't want to press.

It was hard to fall asleep. My mind kept drifting back to the injured girl- my associate, who was now downstairs. Guilt was still nagging me. I know there wasn't anything I could have done to stop whatever it was that got into Lucy's room. She said it wasn't her fault. And I believed her. Mostly. Lucy did have a tendency towards forgetting things, so it was possible something got left up there... but this was an old house with a lot of old things. There could have been something there for years that just got disturbed. My gut clenched thinking about Jessica. It was so similar. And I wasn't there in time. I pictured Jessica's bed with the death glow still so bright. Would a similar one have illuminated the attic? What if another girl in this house died in their bedroom and I did nothing? Could I even live here anymore? Could I even live? I checked myself before letting a sob escape. This wasn't the time to indulge in grief. I needed sleep. I would give myself one hour, I told myself, and then I'll go check on Lucy. With that thought I let myself doze off...

I realized after writing this chapter that Lockwood thinks back on Jessica quite a bit so that's why I picked that title. I have such trouble with titles. Hope you all are having a great day. I'm currently writing the end of the story but I'm so stuck on this one bit!! Agh. Writer's block sucks. #SaveLockwoodandCo #LockwoodCastAppreciation