Lucy:

My leggings were stuck to my skin. I tried not to gag as I felt them clinging onto my legs as I peeled them off.

The smell wasn't doing me any favours either.

Lockwood was right – Flo was good in a pinch to find a safe spot. I just wish that our idea of safe spaces was closer to each other. Flo only cared about not getting killed by ghosts or humans. I'd say that sepsis can be equally fatal.

I put the ruined clothes in a plastic bag to wash later, but I knew I was lying to myself. There was no way I was going to actually wash that – I might as well throw it straight in the bin and save myself from the bad conscience of looking at the bag every time I had to pee.

I rinsed myself off first to get the worst of the gunk out of my hair. I wanted a nice long soak but if I simply went in the tub as I was, I might as well just roll in a muddy puddle.

I was happy that I had thought to close the valve on the Skull or else it would certainly have had something to say about my condition. He would have had something to say. I wasn't in the mood though, so I had closed the valve and covered the jar with the tea cosy for good measure.

I grimaced at the brown water splashing at my feet as I gave my hair a quick wash. When the water was somewhat clear, I put a generous amount of the liquid soap Holly had given me in the tub before filling it with water, hot enough to scald my skin.

A thick layer of foam covered the water and I laid down, letting the warmth finally seep into my bones and the fragrant scent of flowers replace the pungent stench of the riverbank.

I closed my eyes and breathed in, but it felt wrong. I longed for the fresh smell of wild bushes. Of long summer days, spent in the grass, looking at clouds. Except those weren't the memories that came to me anymore when I tried to focus on that scent.

Now, images of white sheets came up. Along with freckled skin and a warm embrace. I let my right arm rest on my stomach, but nothing could imitate the weight that was missing as when he held through the night.

Nothing could replace the whispered words or the soft chuckles. Nothing could replace the kisses.

God, the kisses.

I missed Quill. I couldn't help it.

I was startled out of my self-pity when I heard the front door slam against the wall.

I jumped, upsetting the water, and making it splash over the edges of the tub. Whatever it was, someone else could deal with it.

I was just about to drift off in the warm water when I heard a scream tear through the house followed by something breaking.

With a few hissed curses, I hurried to wash my hair and got out. My curiosity suddenly overruled my need to relax.

I threw my old towel on the floor to soak up the water. I don't remember how many times I'd used it. It was time for a clean one anyway.

I stumbled towards the windowsill where I ripped the tea cosy off the jar and hurriedly flicked the valve open.

"Anything?" I asked breathlessly, hurrying up to put on a skirt.

The skull must have sensed that I wasn't in the mood because the answer was to the point.

"Nothing supernatural"

Well, almost to the point.

"Maybe Lockwood finally killed himself."

I closed the valve again.

…

Quill:

I barely breathed as Tony read the letter. I tried reading his facial expression, but his face was oddly blank. I was startled when he took a lamp and threw it across the room, shattering it against the wall.

"FUCK!" he screamed.

"Wha -"

"Damnit, Jess!" he continued as he staggered behind the desk and collapsed in his chair. He pressed the heels against his eyes, breathing heavily.

I hesitated before putting a hand on his shoulder.

"Jessica -" he choked out, cutting himself off with a sob that wracked his entire body.

With a roar, he swept off all the things from his desk before collapsing back in the chair again.

"Can I – can I read it?" I asked him carefully.

He gave a jerky nod and I bent down to pick up the paper that had floated down to land on the floor.

Dearest Anthony.

I hope this letter finds you well if you even find it at all. Perhaps you find it tomorrow, perhaps you find it when we're both old and grey. I hope you won't judge me too harshly for what I have done. I hope you'll understand the reasons behind my selfishness.

What you have found along this letter is mum and dad's will. I've read through it and I found myself unable to respect their decisions. I hope that you'll be able to forgive me in time.

In it you'll find all the expected things. They leave us all their belongings as well as the rights to their research. These are all things that would fall to us regardless.

I could hardly object to that. What I can't accept is what they want to happen to us. It says in the will that we should go to Aunt Emily and Uncle Charlie. You must understand that I cannot become a Kipps. Not like this.

You don't know it yet, but I've found myself in love with my very best friend. I intend to marry Quill and I couldn't possibly do so if I was his sister.

I know things will be difficult but we're Lockwoods – we can make it.

I know I can do this. I'll take care of you. We'll take care of each other.

Maybe I will show you this on my wedding day. Hopefully, you won't be able to stay angry with me under such circumstances.

I love you, little brother.

Jessica

I stared at the piece of paper for a long time, even after reading and re-reading the entire thing, trying to take in the meaning of it. How the actions of a young girl had impacted our lives.

Tony was shaking and I put a hand on his shoulder. He snapped his head up to look at me with red narrowed eyes.

"Did you know?" he demanded harshly.

"No" I whispered. "I had no idea."

I wondered how long she would have kept it from us all. If she would have one day realised that raising her brother was harder than she'd thought. If she really would have kept it secret until our wedding day.

I swallowed hard.

Jessica had lied.

Not a small white 'it wasn't me who broke the flower vase'-lie.

It was for our future, she had written. A future I had often pictured myself having with her. We had discussed it so often, like the stupid teens in love that we were. We would have our own house, somewhere close to my parents but not enough to be stifling have two children named after Don and Celia and a dog named Titan.

I had pictured it so often. Even years after her death, I couldn't picture my future any different.

I couldn't picture a future without Jessica.

But as I stood there, taking in the deceptively light-hearted tone of the letter, for the first time, I had difficulty imagining how a future with Jess would have even been if it had been built on such a lie.

The pedestal I had kept her on for years was crumbling.

I felt betrayed. Especially for Tony. His life had been turned upside down, first with the death of his parents, then with the death of his sister, and to add insult to injury, he was ripped away from London – his everyday life, his school, and his friends.

From us. My – our family.

She might have wanted me as her husband but in the process, she had stolen my brother.

We were supposed to be brothers.

I pulled Tony in for a tight hug.

I don't know how long we stood there, clinging to each other. My cheeks were itching and burning with the saltiness left on my skin from my tears.

We finally let go with heavy manly pats on each other's backs.

"I need to talk to Aunt Emily," Tony croaked and made a move towards the stairs.

I put a hand on his arm to stop him.

"There's something else."

I put the book my mother had given me into his hand.

He cocked his head in question.

"Your parents. It wasn't an accident."

…

Lucy:

When I finally got downstairs, it was to a bedraggled couple of young men, somewhat calmly occupying the kitchen.

I figured that whatever the emergency had been, it had to be over. They looked awful though.

Both with red eyes and hair, and clothes in disarray.

Quill was wearing a suit again – something I was much too distracted by their distress to properly appreciate. He was in the process of pulling the coffeemaker out of the cabinet it usually sat in when he wasn't here. The kettle was already on.

Lockwood sat at the kitchen table, staring red-eyed at a small book. He didn't seem to notice me.

"What happened to –"

I was cut off by the doorbell.

"I'll get that," I offered reluctantly. It wasn't as if the others were in any condition to be seen by the general public.

"Please," Lockwood croaked.

"Just tell me – did someone die?" I demanded.

Lockwood gave a bitter laugh. "They did but it's a long time ago."

With my thoughts racing in all sorts of directions, and more questions than answers, I made my way down the hall.

I opened the door to a young man, perhaps a couple of years older than myself. He was wearing tight jeans with blindingly white sports shoes, that slightly contrasted with his fitted white shirt and black blazer. His brown hair was styled in a way that spoke of ages spent in the bathroom.

He was looking down at the ground with a frown but when I opened the door, and his eyes snapped up to meet mine, his expression changed. His mouth spread into a confident, crooked smile, showing off perfect teeth as he gave me a slow once-over.

"Well, well, well – had I known that there were agents looking like you, I might have gone into the business myself,"

My confusion must have been clear because he made a soft chuckle. He bit his lip and leaned slightly forward.

"I'm Wi–"

Before I knew it, I was pushed backwards, and Quill was in front of me.

"No!" he scolded in the tone that one would use on a misbehaving dog.

Over Quill's shoulder, I saw the newcomer give him a wide, cheeky grin.

"Thought I might find you here." He smirked before his face took a more serious expression. "We need to talk about what's going on with mum."

At that point, Lockwood came up beside me and put his arm around my shoulder.

Quill shuffled a bit before huffing and pulling the brunet in by his arm.

"Get in here before you're spotted you waffle."

Once in the hall that suddenly felt rather crowded, the young man shifted uncomfortably, his eyes darting between me and Lockwood.

"Is there somewhere we could talk in private?" He gave Quill a pointed look.

Lockwood seemed about to argue but Quill cut him off.

"I think I know why you're here and whatever you want to talk about will be repeated to the rest of them anyway so we might as well gather everybody."

His eyes rose high on his forehead and he scratched his chin. "You sure about that? It's a rather… delicate subject."

Quill turned around and I got the view of a magnificent eyeroll.

"Just get your delicate arse in the kitchen, William," he groaned.

Now I understood the exasperation.

Siblings.

William responded with a similar eyeroll but trudged through the hall, obviously knowing the way. I followed and Quill moved but was held back by Lockwood.

I didn't question it. Something was obviously going on between the two of them and I wasn't about to poke my nose in it even if I wanted to.

I came in the kitchen in time to see William throw himself into a chair. He leaned back and sent me a cheeky smile and a wink.

I wrinkled my nose and his smile widened. I paid him no mind but turned my back on him to make the tea.

I huffed when I noticed that Lockwood once again had put the tea on the highest shelf, and I had to climb the counter. Why the hell couldn't he just let it stay in one place? One time, I found it in the oven though I wonder if that had been a part of one of Georges many experiments. What he had hoped to achieve, I didn't know but I'd long learned that it was best not to ask.

"Would you like a cup of tea?" I tried to ask our guest politely.

He made a distracted hum and I turned around to see him leaning sideways, staring at my bottom.

He gave a yelp when Quill kicked the chair out from under him as he entered the kitchen.

"What was that for?" he squawked.

"Behave," Quill growled, and I wondered if this was the way they normally interacted.

I gave Quill an amused smile and the grin he sent my way warmed me more than the bathtub could.

"Holly should be on her way. She's bringing donuts." Lockwood informed us when he came in. He took in William's position on the floor and smirked.

"Good to see you again, Will."

"Yes, well this isn't a social call."

Lockwood snorted. "Well, if it's a professional one, I'd expect more decorum from you than trying to look up my colleague's skirt."

I felt my cheeks heating and my heart warming further. Lockwood had referred to me as a colleague rather than an employee, essentially making us equal. It honestly made me slightly giddy.

William made an eyebrow waggle. "I see nothing wrong with mixing business with pleasure."

"Well, I see a lot wrong about sexual harassment," Lockwood retorted, and my face heated further.

William made a face and looked like he was about to argue.

Quill cleared his throat. "Is Cubbins joining us?"

I was grateful for the subject change. It wouldn't do for all my blood to gather in my cheeks. I would end up looking like a hamster.

"I'll go get him," I offered and dashed out of the room.

George was doing much better. He still wasn't cleared for the field, but he had several experiments running and came out of bed for meals and short meetings.

I knocked on his door.

"George! Meeting in the kitchen!" I hollered.

I heard a grunt from the other side. The one that meant that he had heard me but didn't care.

"Holly is bringing donuts!" I added as bait.

I heard the thunk of a book being dropped on the carpet and curses as he scrambled out of bed.

You know that thing, when there's a lot of tension in a room but nobody dares acknowledge it so when you enter it, it feels like running face first into a brick wall because that's how dense the atmosphere is?

Yeah. That's how it is.

Lockwood was for some unknown reason polishing his rapier – something he usually never did at the table.

William sat with pursed lips and arms crossed over his chest, staring at the tea stain I had made the other day on the opposite wall.

Quill was standing at the counter with his back turned, making coffee. His shoulders were so tense they almost reached his ears.

I went there to make the tea that nobody else had bothered to finish.

Quill's shoulders went even higher when I came to stand beside him, and I put a hand on his shoulder and offered him a small smile.

He relaxed a bit, and we quietly went about our business.

Not long after, the tell-tale thunder of George coming down the stairs sounded, followed by a choked gasp from behind me.

"George! Trousers!" Lockwood scolded in exasperation.

I didn't dare turn around before George returned up the stairs with an annoyed huff.

"I forgot to tell him we had visitors," I whispered in mortification.

Lockwood shuddered. "Guests or not, I'd like my retinas to be spared as well."

William looked deeply disturbed.

"So, William, are you still eager to enter the industry?" I couldn't help but ask innocently.

He made a face at me. "I'll consider it."

Lockwood snorted. "Then there's just the fact that you're completely and utterly talentless. What are you even doing here?"

William sent Quill a dark look and Quill narrowed his eyes at his brother in return.

"I just want an explana –"

"I'm here!" I heard Holly's melodic voice from the hall. I hadn't even heard the door opening.

That's when George came back down and slumped into the chair next to William, resembling a blob of mashed potatoes. He was indeed wearing pants, but William looked at him as if he might attack at a moment's notice.

"Who're you?" George grunted.

William opened his mouth to respond but was cut off by Holly who came in, bearing gifts in the form of fresh donuts. My stomach made a growling demand, and I graciously took them off her.

"Oh, we have guests!" Holly chirped.

William's charming smile was back in full force, but Holly simply stayed Holly.

"I take it you're not a client since we're meeting in the kitchen," she smiled.

William got up and reached for her hand, but Quill knocked it down.

"That's my brother, unfortunately. But I suppose we're all here now so we might as well get started."

Tea, donuts, and biscuits were quickly distributed, and I frowned when William made a face at the novelty mug with painted pigs on it. I didn't appreciate his judgement. It was one of my favourites.

Quill cleared his throat. He stood from his seat and gave his brother an appraising look before exchanging nods with Lockwood.

"Right. Last night, we broke into the Orpheus Society's library –"

"You did what?!" William exclaimed in horror.

Lockwood winced. "Right. Backstory."

Together we filled William in on the rather complicated case we were working on, from the discovery of Rotwell's experiments to Marissa/Penelope Fittes to the Orpheus Society to the origins of the Problem itself.

What was left of William was far from the cocky boy who had walked through the door. He seemed to switch between terror and utter disbelief.

"So, you just – you just broke in?!" He looked at Lockwood with a disturbed form of awe.

Lockwood returned his horror with a roguish grin. "And stole a bit and caused general mayhem."

Quill shifted and winced. "That's not all, Tony."

He looked at all of us before turning his eyes to the thinking cloth that he had been doodling random shapes on.

Lockwood cocked his head in question.

"Did any of you get a good look at those books?" Quill asked carefully.

Holly shook her head. "I was just looking for the title we needed."

"Well, I did," he hesitated. "All those books in that library were from Starling."

There was a sharp intake of breath from several people around the table.

"What is that supposed to mean?" William asked.

Quill huffed impatiently. "Do you remember how our grandfather always crowed about being a good friend of Marissa Fittes?"

"Of course. You practically hero worshipped him for that alone," he smirked a little.

Quill grimaced. "Yeah, well, evidently, they were more than just friends,"

William made a face of disgust.

"Not like that, you idiot. Our grandfather was one of the founding members of the Orpheus Society and Starling is still mixed into it," Quill hissed.

"So, what you're saying is that you're compromised," George cut in impassively.

"No!" Quill denied indignantly. "What I'm saying is that William as work cut out for him to take care of the legal defence because we're tearing the whole thing down."

William stared at his brother with wide eyes.

"But that means that mum –"

Quill softened. "It means that mum has been blackmailed for the past decade."

William let out a shaky breath.

"We need to end this, but our mum is just as much a victim in this as anyone else." Quill looked around at each of us as if daring us to challenge him.

"I'll get on it," William promised. "I'll help with anything else you need too."

George narrowed his eyes at him. "We'll see."

…

Thank you for reading! Don't forget to leave a review!

What do you think of William? Not to mention Jessica's decision.