Holly followed me up to my room. "You look so beautiful! That blouse suits you so well!" she gushed as soon as the door shut behind us.

I blushed a bit. I might have felt sort of pretty, but the awkwardness was still the primary emotion. I was happy I'd decided to shut off the valve on the skull. I didn't need his comments when I was feeling so insecure already. It hadn't stopped yammering on about the kiss since we left Quill's childhood home. In the end, I simply had enough.

"It's Quill's mum's. Do you think you could help me wash it? I just know that I'll ruin it," I begged her.

She smirked a bit. "Only if you promise to wear light colours more often."

I scoffed when I realised, she meant it. "You can't be serious."

"Deadly,"

"But I don't actually have any light clothes." I was tempted to add a 'so there.'

"We'll need to go shopping then," she decided cheerfully.

My cheeks warmed a bit. "Holly, I don't think I have any money for that."

Her forehead crinkled elegantly. "I'm sorry, Lucy, I really don't mean to pry, but I'm the one doing the books, I know what Lockwood pays you. What on earth do you do with it all if you don't mind me asking?"

I opened and closed my mouth a couple of times, surprised by the invasiveness of the question. "I uh -I send most of it back home to my mum. I did have a little bit of money saved up, but I spent that for the deposit when I moved. I obviously lost that after the break-in. The place was wrecked."

"Oh," she breathed. "Is your mum struggling financially?"

"I uh – I don't know. It's only Mary living at home with her now. But my mum isn't very happy with me. Jacobs – my old boss put my salary in her account directly and she kept it for rent and food and such. She's been cross ever since I left. Especially when I lived in Tooting. I couldn't send her as much because I had to pay rent there."

Holly's eyebrows crinkled deeper. "But you don't live at home anymore, so surely you shouldn't have to pay rent and food there either."

"I –" I couldn't come up with a good explanation.

I sighed heavily and debated with myself whether or not to let Holly know the sort of mum I had. I couldn't make myself say it, so instead, I went to my dresser and picked a stack of letters from my drawer.

I bit my lip and hesitated. I almost put the letters back down again, but in the end, I had come to trust Holly. She had seen me at my worst; she might as well see a bit more. I gave them to her and threw myself on my bed while she read.

It didn't take long. Dealing with all that paperwork had clearly made her a fast reader.

She looked at me with such a deep frown that you might even say that her forehead was wrinkled.

"Lucy," she breathed. "These are horrible,"

I shrugged. "It's fine."

"How can that be fine?" she blurted. "This is from your mother?"

I nodded. "I don't – It's fine, really. She's under a lot of pressure. She's working hard."

Her eyes narrowed. "Has it always been like this?"

I only nodded.

"Has she ever… done any of these things?" she bit her lip.

"She –" I cut myself off with a swallow and nodded. She'd done it all.

"Lucy," Holly breathed in horror.

I sat up and took a deep breath. "You have to understand. I was the youngest of seven girls she had to provide for. It really wasn't fair that she had to work so hard. Especially when she didn't even want me."

Holly looked down at the letters again. I knew that said as much in the letter from January and the one from December.

She didn't say anything but stared at me completely mystified.

"My mum didn't want me. My dad wanted a son and wouldn't let her uh – he wouldn't let her end the pregnancy. He was catholic." I explained. "My sister, Elisabeth told me he didn't show up to my baptism though. Some catholic, eh?" I lamely tried to joke.

"That doesn't excuse this," she pointed out vehemently, waving the letters around, almost aggressively. "Is this what your childhood was like?"

I shrugged. "Could have been worse. She could have abandoned me. I could have grown up on the streets."

Holly scoffed. "There's always a way, things could be worse. That doesn't mean things are good."

I blew out my cheeks, thinking of something to say.

"It wasn't that bad, really. Usually, I just kept to myself. She was fine if you didn't disturb her." I waved her off. "Dad died when I was little. I don't remember much of him. What I do remember was…"

I got a bit lost in the memory. It wasn't a pleasant one.

"My childhood could have been worse. That's what I mean." I finished.

Holly looked at me, really looked at me, as if this was the first time, she saw me.

I looked away. I couldn't stand the pity. I didn't need it and I didn't want it.

"You were always so strong. I have to confess that I've always admired you - This is only making me admire you more."

She gently put a hand on my cheek to turn my face back to look at her. I didn't find any pity. Just compassion and a small smile.

"I'm not though. I'm too –"

"You're perfect, just the way you are." She apparently decided.

I sighed. "I'm really not."

Holly opened her mouth to say something but hesitated. "Lucy, may I offer you some advice?"

I shrugged. She could offer all the advice she wanted. I didn't have to follow it.

"Your mum. Stop sending her money. She's a grown woman."

I opened my mouth to protest but she cut me off.

"And show these to someone else. This," she waved the letters around again, "is a burden and you shouldn't carry it alone. And these threats in here? I know at least four well-trained, heavily armed people she would have to go through to carry any of this out on you."

"It's not me I'm afraid for." I confessed. "Not anymore."

She nodded in understanding. "Your sister lives with her."

I nodded.

"You mentioned five other sisters. Surely, they could help her."

I bit my lip. How could I explain that like my mum and my dad, they didn't care? That they were exactly the same? That I wasn't even sure that Mary hadn't turned out the same too?

"You don't have to, of course," Holly rushed out. "But maybe a start could be to write your sister a letter?" she suggested.

"Yeah," I breathed, "Yeah, I might do that. But can we please talk about something else now?" I requested.

She smirked wickedly, "Sure. We could talk about those absolutely gorgeous earrings you're wearing."

I felt my face heat up. "Something other than that?"

"Absolutely not," she grinned.

I threw myself back on the bed with a groan.

"Quill gave them to me," I grumbled into the pillow.

If I hadn't known that I had secured the room with iron filings in between the floorboards, I might have thought we had been invaded by a Screaming Spirit. That's how loud Holly squealed.

Indeed, heavy footsteps thundered up the stairs and Lockwood showed up, out of breath.

"Is everything alright? I heard screaming." He frantically looked around for the supposed threat.

"It's fine. Lockwood, everything is fine." Holly assured him with a wide smile.

He looked at her strangely. "Are you certain?"

"Yes, Lockwood," she rolled her eyes good-naturedly "We're talking about girl-things."

She levelled him with a look and waggled her eyebrows.

Lockwood paled and left down the stairs as fast as he had come up.

Holly snorted. "Teenage boys."

I grinned at her.

"So, what happened?" she hissed.

I opened my mouth and closed it again. Was this girl-talk? Were we girl-talking?

"I uh – he kissed me."

Holly grabbed my pillow and screamed into it.

We were totally having a girl-talk.

My cheeks were burning.

"Then what?" she hissed excitedly.

"Then I turned him down."

Holly's face fell. "Why?"

I took my pillow back and hugged it. "Because I'm so confused. I don't how to feel or how to act. I mean, Lockwood kissed me too. When we were on the other side."

Holly's eyes widened. "And how did that feel?"

"It was – It felt nice. It was good. We were so far out of our depth, but he still made me feel safe. It was really sweet," I smiled.

"And Quill?"

I bit my lip, thinking about it. "It was… different. I don't know how to describe it."

"Try," Holly was practically bouncing in her seat.

I put my hands on my heated cheeks to try to alleviate the burning. I even started sweating and my stomach felt tingly. I thought about the way Quill had kissed me. How his tongue had felt against mine, the tiniest gasp he made when I pulled his hair, how close he had held me, his teeth biting my lip. My stomach did a somersault, and a small shiver went through me.

Then I realised I had been quiet for too long.

I looked over at Holly, who sat with pursed lips and eyebrows high on her forehead.

"I – it's probably just because it only happened a few hours ago. I haven't had time to process it." I defended.

She gave me a look that told me that she was far from convinced.

I threw my pillow at her, but disappointingly, she caught it in the air.

"I just don't want anything until I'm absolutely certain." I asserted.

She smiled warmly. "That sounds like a great plan. There's no rush."

"It's about the two of them as well. They're weird."

Holly laughed. "That's true."

"No, not the regular weird." I grabbed my pillow back and hugged it. "Did you know they used to know each other before?"

She tilted her head. "Not just as agents?"

I shook my head. "I uh – I don't actually know if I should tell you or not, but they actually used to be family friends. Thick as thieves apparently, until Lockwood's parents died. Quill's parents even wanted custody of Lockwood and his sister."

"Really?" she breathed and leaned forward.

I nodded. "They hadn't written a will though. I still find that odd. Everyone and their hamster have a will. But then again, they seemed to have been a bit eccentric." I shrugged.

Holly frowned. "It's very odd. Especially for a family like this," she gestured around a bit and I knew what she meant. Wealthy.

I sighed. "Quill told me that they used to try to help out here. He was supposed to have been there that night, when she died, and he wasn't. Lockwood blamed him for her death. Quill blames himself too."

"That's awful," she whispered, almost to herself. "But then what happened?"

"Quill's parents still kept trying to get custody of Lockwood, but in the end, he went to live with an uncle. He wrote to them to stop trying. Quill was angry with Lockwood for breaking his mum's heart. And then they just… fell apart. And then Lockwood humiliated Quill in a fencing tournament," I rolled my eyes.

Holly made a small smile, "Yes, I'd heard of that."

I grinned. "Everyone has."

"But then what? What has Lockwood said?"

"You know how he is about his family. He turns into a bloody clam," I huffed.

She smirked and leaned back in the chair. "Pot – kettle. You haven't exactly been the most forthcoming person either."

"What? just told you a bunch of stuff!" I objected.

"And how much do the others know about this 'stuff', compared to how long you've known them?"

"I uh –" I swallowed. "They've never asked."

Holly shook her head. "Well, that's all the proof anyone needs that they're emotionally constipated idiots."

"I think I'm an emotionally constipated idiot." I grumbled.

Holly smiled gently at me. "You all are. That's because you never learned how to understand your emotions or how to react to them,"

"Don't you start psychoanalysing me or something, Holly." I warned.

"Oh, it's much too late for that," she waved me off. "I've been doing that since I met you. That's why I'm so impressed by you. Now I just have an explanation for why you are the way you are,"

I opened my mouth to say something. I didn't appreciate her trying to figure me out like that, but with the compliment in between I couldn't make myself complain. I settled for a scowl instead.

"I'm not going to interfere or anything," Holly smiled, and I didn't believe her for a second.

The next morning, Lockwood was out to buy new supplies of iron, salt, and donuts. I walked down the stairs and sat down across from George who was eating breakfast and without a word, I slid the small pile of letters across the thinking cloth to him.

He frowned at them before taking his glasses off and rubbing them in his dirty sweatshirt in slow circles. He raised an eyebrow at me when he put them back on but didn't say anything.

While George was one of the most stone-faced individuals I'd ever seen in a conversation, he could actually be a very expressive reader, so I sat, observing him as he was reading the letters. His eyebrows danced wildly. First, he frowned. Then the brows went high up on his forehead. Then they met again in a frown in the middle before only one of them would jump up and then be met by the other. It was a thing to behold.

When he finished, he put them all in a neat pile and sat, tapping his fingers on the table.

"Wouldn't it be better if Lockwood –"

"I'd prefer it if he didn't know. You know him, he'll only worry and –"

"I worry too, you know. I know I'm not the best at," He waved his pudgy hand about a bit and I understood what he meant, "you know. But I do care. And I do worry."

He looked at me almost impassively, but that small finger-tap told me that he was in fact quite agitated.

I sighed "I know, George. But you're not going to –"

He nodded "Lockwood would try to save you."

"I don't need to be saved."

"I know," he gave me a small smile.

I gave him a warm one in return. "Thank you."

Then I went about making myself some breakfast and that was that. It wasn't the instant relief that I had hoped, but I did feel maybe just a bit lighter. I was happy to have George know, and his undramatic reaction and quiet support was exactly what I needed.

When I put the letters back in a drawer, I decided that maybe it really was time for a change and I went down to my desk in the office to write a letter, not just to Mary, but to all my sisters.

Lockwood found me as I wrote the address on the last one.

"Up for practice?" he asked with a gigantic smile.

I looked at my poor hand, that was already cramping up from all the writing I had been doing. Then I looked at his, which was still heavily bandaged from his idiotic attempt at a rescue the other night.

"Are you?"

"Nah. I just wanted to spend time with you," he winked.

I huffed a small laugh. "You could just ask, you know."

"Also, I bought you a little something."

I tilted my head in question.

"It's in here," he gestured at the rapier room.

I followed him in there and raised an eyebrow at him when I saw it.

It was a large slice of wood. A cross section where you could see all the rings.

"What's this supposed to be?"

"Those throwing knives of yours," he shrugged and put his hands in his pocket. "What sort of employer would I be if I didn't provide proper training equipment? I uh – I asked Quill what would be best, actually."

He took a deep breath and blew out his cheeks.

I smiled widely at him. I was truly touched by his consideration. The fact that he had consulted Quill warmed my heart even more. The more they talked, the better. "Thank you, Lockwood. It really means a lot. I've been meaning to practice more. I really think they could be useful in the field."

He nodded. "Just be sure to wear some proper shoes when you do," he winced.

I snorted. "I take it Quill told you what happened to his foot?"

"Oh no, I was there when it happened. He wanted to show off, but it didn't go quite as he had hoped, I imagine. It's hard to look cool when there's a knife going through your shoe. I was rather more terrified than impressed."

I laughed. "Not sure if it's better or worse than having your bum stabbed by a sword in public,"

Lockwood joined me in my laughing fit. When the laughter died down, he looked at me strangely.

"Go get those knives then and let's see what we can do," he grinned.

I took the stairs two steps at a time. When I returned, Lockwood had taken down Lady Esmeralda and Floating Joe and put them on the floor in the back.

We ended up spending the entire afternoon taking turns at throwing knives at the piece of wood. By the end of the day, we both managed to get a knife to stay stuck in the wood, but in the learning process we'd also managed to kill a bag of salt, and sack of potatoes. The floor also had several new scratches and Lockwood somehow managed to get a knife stuck to the ceiling. Miraculously no one was injured.

Early evening, I went down to the nearest post box.

I held my breath as I put all six letters in it, one by one.

This chapter gave me some feels.

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