Blood. There was so much blood. Crimson streams splashed across the wood floor in erratic patterns, painting a foreboding image that stole the breath from Nellie's chest. Her heart was in her throat as she turned the corner that led to the bedroom. The rivers of blood all convened to a figure in the middle of the bedroom floor.
Nellie never thought she was capable of moving as fast as she did in that moment. Her fingers searched desperately for a pulse, ignoring the squelching sensation of her blood drenched skirts against her knees. Lucy was cold. With each passing second her face seemed to lose more of its rosy hue, but Nellie still had hope. Pressing her shaking fingers to the pale skin of Lucy's throat, Nellie could feel the weak but distinct flutter of a heartbeat. Without another moments pause, Nellie wrapped her arms around Lucy's waist and propped her against the trunk at the foot of the bed.
The sound of ripping fabric and Nellie's heavy breathing was all that could be heard in the cold dark room. She lifted her skirts just above her knee and retrieved the canteen of gin that she always kept on her person. Lucy's hair covered her face like a golden curtain. The pastel blue nightdress she wore was shredded at the sleeves where deep cuts made way for the rivers of blood that now decorated the hallways of the Barker house. Nellie was grateful that Lucy wasn't yet conscious. There was no doubt that the sting of the alcohol would not be appreciated.
The red-head worked diligently, making sure that the cuts were not so deep that they would not heal and wrapping them tightly to ensure that the blood would cease to flow. As Nellie's heart began to drop to a steady pace she felt the tears begin to prick her eyes. The tears flowed freely as Nellie rested the week creature on the bed and went to fetch a new nightdress. Why? Why had she not come sooner? What had led Lucy to do such a thing? She had a home and a daughter who needed her. Her husband was gone but surely there was more for Lucy here. More than Nellie could ever dream of ever having.
Nellie removed the nightgown from Lucy's person and dressed her in an olive green one that Nellie had selected. The pastel gown was disposed of. Wiping her tears, Nellie pulled the duvet up to Lucy's chin and began to gently stroke her blonde tresses, ignoring the streaks of blood that Nellie would no doubt wash away the next morning.
The oil lamps began to dim as the hours ticked by and the cold London air begin to seep in through the cracks in the window. It was too late to return to the bakery. The streets would no doubt be littered with drunks and whores at this hour. Albert would not be pleased to have Eleanor back so late. He was probably passed out drunk on the couch anyway.
Nellie's fingers made quick work of the laces on her corset and pulled her dress up over her head. Dressed only in her chemise and stockings, Nellie curled up under the duvet beside Lucy Barker. Pressing her lips to Lucy's forehead, Nellie turned off the light and settled down for the night.
"Goodnight, dear sister."