Even before she opened her eyes that morning, Lucy Carlyle knew something was wrong. She carefully opened her eyes, feeling strangely sluggish and heavy. The ghost light in the street had gone out already; instead the light of the sun streamed through the gap of the window, but it had an orange tint to it that meant it had barely risen above the horizon. Lucy never woke up this early, certainly not while still recovering from an injury she'd received during a case two days earlier.
After listening for a sound that could have woken her up and not hearing anything, Lucy stirred. She slowly sat up, and felt a strange sensation on her skin as she moved her legs. They felt moist and the skin of her thighs stuck together as if they were covered in some sugary syrup.
Her nightie was mostly dry, which meant she hadn't been sweating. With an apprehensive gesture, she drew back the duvet.
There was blood all over her bed. A stain of blood the size of her hand had seeped through her nightie, into the sheets and the duvet cover, and she had smears of it all over her legs.
For a moment, panic grabbed her by the throat at the sight, and she let out a strangled cry when her stomach cramped violently. This caught the attention of the skull that sat in the ghost jar on her windowsill.
"Isn't it a bit early for you to be awake?" it chirped as if she wasn't sitting in her own blood. The greenish plasm swirled for a moment before revealing the face that had been her only company until she returned to Lockwood and Co.
"Oh my, You don't look too good," the skull continued merrily. "Reopened that wound of yours? Or no, don't tell me. Lady trouble?"
Lucy threw the skull the fiercest glare she could manage and crawled out of bed. It sounded entirely too happy about her predicament. He was also right, even if she didn't want to tell the smug thing that. Her muscles ached in protest and for a moment she wondered if her bones had somehow turned into putty during the night.
With shaking legs she gathered her dirty sheets and duvet cover, to find the blood had seeped into the duvet itself as well. Her mattress had been spared because of the mattress protector that had been around it even before she moved in.
When Lucy moved towards the door, the skull let out a raspy sound that vaguely sounded like somebody scraping their throat. Well, scraping their throat or rubbing sand paper over bone, it was kind of hard to tell. Either way, it caught her attention.
"What?" she managed, and her voice sounded weak even to her own ears.
"Are you sure you want to go downstairs like that?" the skull spoke. "You look like that poltergeist from two days ago got to you again."
Lucy stumbled over to the ghost jar and twisted the plastic switch on the lid, silencing the skull. The face in the jar gave a disgruntled expression, but a discarded shirt was enough to hide it from view.
She did not want to be reminded of the poltergeist that had thrown her around during that case right now. She and Lockwood had spent the evening waiting around on Mile End Road, where an apparition had been spotted at the edge of the Regent canal.
From the description given, they hadn't expected anything big. George had found out that a girl had drowned herself in the canal twenty years earlier, so they'd prepared for a cold maiden.
It had not been a cold maiden.
The source hadn't been hard to find -an engagement ring hidden in the crack between two bricks in the wall that separated the small road from Mile End Park- but when Lucy had reached forward to touch it, all hell had broken loose.
The emotion that had tied the ghost of the girl to the source hadn't been grieve or sadness, but rage.
Rage that expressed itself in the form of a poltergeist.
Before she could so much as warn Lockwood, Lucy had been picked up, scraped across a tree branch that left her with a relatively deep cut in her hip, and tossed into the canal.
The evening had ended with a trip to the Accident and Emergency department of Mile End Hospital, where a young doctor had stitched her up and prescribed antibiotics.
"Better to take precautions," he'd told her with a sigh. "You don't want to know what kind of shit is in open waters like that."
Grabbing jogging bottoms and an over-sized shirt, Lucy made her way to her tiny en suite bathroom. She put the clothes on the closed toilet seat and turned around to look at the mirror above the sink. The girl in the mirror did not look good. Besides the obvious bed hair Lucy could care less about, her face was so ashen that the few freckles on the bridge of her nose stood out like they'd been drawn on with dark brown ink. She also had large bags underneath her eyes.
With a sigh Lucy pulled off her nightie. For a second she considered getting into the shower, but then thought better of it. Mary had once passed out in the shower during her period, and their sisters had had to rush in to help. That was not a mistake she was going to repeat.
Instead she grabbed a washcloth from the cupboard underneath the sink and started washing up.
Lucy wasn't naïve, she'd known how bad periods could be long before she even started hers. It was hard to escape hearing about them if you grew up in a house with seven other women. She'd learned everything about her body before she was even old enough to start training as an agent. Especially Margaret -the oldest- would get cramps so bad they rendered her incapable of doing anything besides curling up in bed with a hot water bottle for the first two days.
Lucy however, had always been lucky concerning her periods. She only got her first one a couple weeks after she'd joined Lockwood and co – which was because of how physically active she was as an agent, according to Mary- and it had been light and pretty much painless. She got through most of the ones following it with a little extra exercise and the occasional painkiller to help her ignore her sore back muscles during cases.
Waking up like this was new though, and barely five minutes into the day, she was already praying it would never happen again.
She finished cleaning up and wrung out the washcloth, to find it still had some blood in it. She tossed it on her nightie and underwear, and reached for the little box of tampons next to the tap.
One thing Lucy disliked about 35 Portland Row on most days, was that she needed to go down three flights of stairs to get to the washing machine. She would always lose a sock or something half way down a staircase. Today it was even worse than normal. She'd wrapped her laundry in her duvet to keep it all together, but the large bundle in her arms made it even harder to navigate the way down, and she'd had almost lost her balance more than once.
When she'd finally reached the kitchen, Lucy was breathing heavily. The cramps had died down a little, but she was still feeling lightheaded and shaky, so she took a moment to lean against the doorframe of the opened door.
"You okay Luce?"
Lucy snapped her eyes open, to see Lockwood rising from his chair. She hadn't realized her housemates were up and about already, and Lockwood's voice had caught her off guard. George was watching her from in front of the stove, absent-mindedly stirring the scrambled eggs in the frying pan with his spatula.
"You don't look too good," he remarked.
Lucy had to think about how to answer for a bit, and if the look on Lockwood's face was any indication, it took too long.
"I'm fine," she muttered, and stepped away from the doorframe. She had barely taken a second step when the kitchen tilted to the side. She dropped her laundry so she could try to find a hold, but she was too far from the either table or the counter for it to make a difference. Her legs gave out, and she fell.
Lockwood had managed to grab her by the shoulders before she slammed down on the tiled floor, so the impact wasn't as bad as it could've been. That didn't mean it hadn't scared Lucy. For a moment everything had been black, her heart was hammering in her chest, and it felt like somebody had stuffed her head with cotton wads. The only coherent thought running through her head was that she was glad she hadn't taken that shower, because the humiliation of passing out in there would have ended her on the spot.
The front door slamming shut brought Lucy back to awareness a bit, to find Lockwood and George looking at her with great concern. Lockwood was tapping her cheek with his fingertips, and she realized she'd actually blacked out.
"-ce, are you back with us?"
Lucy gave a small nod, and Lockwood's shoulders sagged in relief.
"Did you rip your stitches Lucy? That's quite some blood on your stuff," George asked, waving the hand that wasn't holding the spatula in the general direction of her fallen laundry.
"No, that's not it," Lucy started, trying to fight down the blush of shame that crept up to her cheeks. She had never mentioned her periods to the boys. She didn't think they'd be weird about it per se, but it had always felt like something personal. Her sisters sharing their experiences with each other was one thing, talking about it to her male flatmates something else entirely.
She didn't have to say it. George took one look at her flushed face, another at the bloodied laundry and blushed as well.
"Ah," he managed.
"Ah," Lucy repeated confirmatively.
"I'm missing something here," Lockwood said. He carefully helped Lucy up, and guided her into her chair at the table, where she fought the urge to curl up into a small ball when another cramp shot through her stomach. Her breathing sped up and got shallower, and she was this close to hyperventilating when Lockwood gently grabbed her shoulders.
"Can you tell me what's going on Luce?" he asked her.
"I'm on my bloody period, Lockwood," Lucy cursed at him. George let out an amused snort at her choice of words from where he'd rushed back to the stove to take the eggs off of the fire, but Lockwood's hurt look made Lucy feel guilty immediately.
"I'm sorry," she muttered, turning her head away from him. Why was she being so snappy? It wasn't his fault she felt like shit. Before either of the boys could say anything, Holly entered the kitchen; apparently she'd been the one to slam the front door when she entered the house.
"What's with all the commotion?" she asked, casting a curious look around the kitchen.
It barely took her a second to take in the situation, and she was already rifling through her handbag as she strode towards Lucy.
"It's a bad one huh?" She asked as she put a small cardboard box on the table.
"Yes," Lucy managed through uneven breaths, and Holly immediately put a hand on her back, gently pushing Lockwood aside.
"Sit up straight and breathe slowly, or you will pass out," she told Lucy as she gently pushed the hand between Lucy's shoulder blades up. Lucy's breath faltered as she sat up along with the motion.
"Deep breaths, okay?" Holly continued. She inhaled deeply as well, holding it for a moment and then blowing the air out. Lucy followed along, and Holly kept up the exercise until Lucy managed to control her breath.
"George, can you get Lucy some breakfast?"
George nodded and quickly plated the eggs. He walked over and put them in front of Lucy, who winced at the smell.
"I really don't want to eat," she protested weakly.
"Too bad," Holly said. "You can't take these until you've eaten something." She grabbed the box of the table and handed it to Lucy, who stared at the label.
"Naproxen?" she asked.
"It will work better and faster than paracetamol. Take two, after eating something. They should work in about 20 minutes after you take them." She explained.
"You also still need to take your antibiotics," George butted in.
That was enough for Lucy, if the stuff really did help she was willing to eat despite the fact that she felt like her organs were trying to turn themselves inside out.
She grabbed her fork and started eating the scrambled eggs. They were slightly dry, and a bit rubbery, but she wasn't sure whether that was because George had left them on the fire too long when she passed out or if eating was just hard today.
Holly watched her like a hawk, doting around her to make sure she was all right and comfortable. After the dark haired girl had given Lucy a glass of water and instructions on what dosage of naproxen to take later on in the day, ("Not more than one tablet every 8 hours") she turned to the boys, who were still awkwardly hovering nearby.
"Are you ready to see the client? He should be arriving soon."
Lockwood and George shot each other a look. The client had called the day before, but with Lucy's condition, they'd both forgotten about him.
"Right," Lockwood started. "We should get ready for him. Will you be alright Luce?"
His worried look made Lucy feel a little lighter, like his attention always did.
"Just gonna wait until the painkiller kicks in. I'm afraid I'm going to have to sit this one out," she said apologetically.
"Maybe you should try to get some more sleep, Lucy," George said. "That way the painkillers will have time to work before you wake up again."
"Yeah, good idea," Lucy replied. She got up and almost tripped over her sheet.
"Ah, I've got to wash those first," she mumbled, reaching down to gather the laundry.
"Oh leave those, I'll do it for you," Holly said, ushering Lucy towards the door.
"I'm going to need those to make my bed," Lucy protested.
"You're not in any state to be doing that, Lucy," Holly said, and Lucy's hackles rose immediately. They'd been getting along pretty well lately, but Holly still had the ability to get on Lucy's nerve with merely a comment.
"I'm sorry?" Lucy bit out, not bothering to stop the venom dripping from her voice. To Holly's credit, the girl backed down immediately.
"I just meant that you should get some more rest, I can take care of your laundry before the client arrives,"
The door bell rang loudly before Lucy could give a retort, and she shot Holly a smug look, which was undermined when a flash of pain shot through her again.
"Looks like the client's here," Lucy muttered, feeling both triumphant at winning the argument with Holly, and apprehensive because she actually wasn't in any state to do housework. Holly narrowed her dark eyes at her, but did leave the kitchen to let the client in. With a soft sigh, Lucy reached for the laundry.
"Just take a quick kip in my room, Luce," Lockwood said suddenly. "You won't have to go all the way upstairs that way, and we'll deal with those."
For a moment Lucy wanted to protest –it was a kind offer, but there was no way she'd be able to fall asleep in Lockwood's bed- but thought better of it. Even if she wouldn't be able to sleep, lying down for a while would be much preferable over doing the laundry or having to be polite to a client while feeling this sick.
"Thanks, Lockwood."
"Wake up, Lucy," a soft voice whispered in Lucy's ear. She blearily blinked open her eyes for the second time that day, to find herself looking straight into Lockwood's dark eyes. She wished she could say that she didn't start, but that wasn't entirely true. She didn't jerk up or anything, just let out a little squeak, which she immediately cursed herself for.
Lucy was actually quite surprised she had managed to fall asleep at all. When she first entered Lockwood's room, she'd been wide-awake. The room didn't contain much just the bed with the nightstand and the lamp on top, the chest of drawers near the door, -which Lucy knew contained an old iron mobile- and some wall decorations similar to the ones everywhere else in the house, but the room somehow still breathed Lockwood, and crawling into the bed had felt strangely intimate.
A small grin grew on Lockwood's face at the squeak, and he leant away from her to give her the room to sit up. He was sitting on the edge off the bed, close by, but not uncomfortably so.
"I've got some tea for you, Holly said you should be feeling a bit better by now." He said, motioning towards the cup of tea on the nightstand.
Lucy sat up and wiped her hair out of her face.
"I do feel better," she said after a moment of consideration. Her body still felt off but she wasn't really in pain anymore. "Is the client gone already?"
"He is, left about 45 minutes ago. Don't think it'll be a hard case. "
With that he started explaining what the client, Mr Harrison, had told them. Apparently he had recently moved after his divorce, and according to his son, an apparition would appear in the kitchen after dark. He couldn't give much detail about the figure, just that it brought on a feeling of malice.
"Nothing has happened so far, but it makes the family uneasy, so they came to us."
Lucy gave a nod and leant over to grab the tea from the nightstand. It was a deep reddish colour rather than the brown earl grey she usually drank. She carefully took a sip. It was good, but she had a hard time placing the taste. It was kind of fruity.
"What kind of tea is this?" she asked after a moment.
"I don't know, one of Holly's. She said it would make you feel better," Lockwood answered.
They sat in silence for a moment. Lucy drank her tea as Lockwood watched her, and somehow it didn't feel uncomfortable in the slightest.
"You don't have to answer this if you don't want to," Lockwood started after another moment had passed. His voice was strangely hesitant, and concern was back on his face again. Softer than that morning, but still clearly there. "But are your periods always like this? Because I would prefer it if you didn't hide it if they are. I know it's awkward to discuss it with us but-"
"Thank god they aren't," Lucy said interrupted a soft chuckle. "They're usually pretty light. A bit of pain and sore muscles are the worst of it really. Mary calls me the lucky girl out of all our sisters because of it." With a last swig she emptied the cup and put it back on the nightstand. Her smile softened when she saw Lockwood's frown, and she reached out to put her hand on his lower arm.
"I promise I'm not in this kind of pain each month, Lockwood. Besides, I don't think I'd be capable of hiding it if I were anyway."
"But why this time then?" Lockwood asked.
"I don't know." Lucy shrugged her shoulders for emphasis. "I think Holly would blame my diet, but that didn't really change…"
They were quiet for another while, and Lucy drew back her hand, absentmindedly running it through her hair again. She probably had the most massive bedhead.
Suddenly a thought popped into her head, and she froze halfway through the motion.
"The antibiotics!" She exclaimed. "A side effect was slower blood clotting, maybe that's why."
Lockwood gave a soft hum, and then stood up from the bed. He reached into the pocket of his jacket.
"So giving you this won't make things worse? Holly seemed to think it would, something about too much sugar," he said as he drew out a chocolate bar.
It was one of those fancy ones with a caramel filling that Lucy only bought very rarely, when she knew for certain she wouldn't have to share it with the boys.
"When did you get that?" Lucy asked in surprise as he handed her the bar.
"Well, we let you sleep a little longer than planned, so I popped down to Arif's in the mean time."
Lucy quickly opened the package and broke off two pieces. She held out one to Lockwood, who shook his head.
"No thanks, too sweet for me," he said. "You should probably get some actual food soon though, just come down when you feel up for it."
He shot her one of those radiant smiles and left the room, closing the door behind himself.
Lucy couldn't help but smile to herself as she munched on her chocolate. The day had not started out nicely, but now, with the painkillers working and the care of her friends so evident, she could only agree with Mary: She was a Lucky Girl.
A/N: Thank you for reading! I was actually kind of surprised nobody had broached this topic yet. I mean, 3 teenagers living together by themselves? It's hard to imagine that there are never any puberty related incidents like this. (I may also be projecting onto poor Lucy. Sorry Luce)
Anyway, I look forward to your feedback, so please leave a comment!