Hey guys! I'm so pumped for this chapter! It's gonna have something... I honestly don't know yet. You could call this chapter just going with it. I have like, millions of ideas swimming through my head. For other fics, and this fic included. So without further adieu, Here's a nice long chpter for ya! Enjoy!

Disclaimer - I do not own Lockwood & Co!

We arrived back at the house, curtains still drawn, just as we left it. The marble walls glittered in the dying light. We walked up to the door, and using the key we had been supplied with, entered without hesitation.

We made tea, and found a tin of biscuits, eating and drinking as Lockwood assessed the plan.

"Ok, Lucy, you will go back to your post." He held up a hand before I could say anything. "I'll be nearby. Shout if that Visitor comes out as strong again."

I nodded. "Right."

"George, you'll stay in the lounge."

George nodded, chewing thoughtfully on a biscuit. "Ok. I'll keep an eye out for any activity. It got pretty cold in there last time."

And we all went to our posts.

Little did I know, tonight would be much worse.

I lay my iron chains in a careful circle, and placed the skull jar beside my feet. The face was present, nose bulbous and eyes as bulging as grotesquely as usual. The ectoplasm was so thick that the grimy skull that was bolted to the bottom of the silverglass was hidden.

"So, will you possibly let me out now?"

"Not on your life."

"Ah, but I don't have a life. I am dead, so that means you will."

I rolled my eyes, glaring pointedly at the face. "No, I will not. Don't twist my words around, you wanker."

"Oh well." It said, "A ghost can try."

"And fail." I snarled.

"Oh hush now."

I did just that. The activity was beginning. I drew my rapier, fixing my stance.

I yanked my walkie-talkie from my belt.

"Lockwood, I'm beginning to get the same results as last night." I glanced down at my thermometer, which glowed sharply in the gloom. It read 20 degrees. I grabbed my hat, pulling it onto my head, zipping my parka up to my chin. "The temperature has dropped to twenty degrees. Over."

"Righto, Luce. It's getting quite chilly here as well. The Malaise is utterly awful. So thick you could cut it with a knife. Call back if you need anything else. Over and out."

I shoved by walkie-talkie back into my belt. Ghost fog began to form, grainy and swirling around the recesses of the chains. My gloved grip tightened on my rapier hilt, muscles tightening. I zeroed in with my inner ear, and sure enough, there was the weeping, just as before. It rose and fell softly, but it was getting stronger and louder. My breath puffed like mist in the thick air. The Malaise began to set in heavily, and the quick footsteps sounded again, padding along the flood in a hastened pace.

"Bang...!"

"Bang...!"

"Bang...!"

"Bang...!"

My breath quickened as the door behind me banged closed with loudest crash of all, and the puff of resembled breath brushed my ear. I pulled my parka's collar up to my ears. Heavy footsteps, panting, a cold breeze, and the black shape as it rounded the corner. The Malaise thickened, and I rested my hand on a canister of iron filings.

The crawling unseen thing was back, trail of thick, shiny blood staining the tiles as it dragged itself desperately across the hall. The sobbing trailed in it's wake. I gripped my rapier handle so hard my knuckles were probably turning white under my gloves. Even though I had experienced this before, fear still prickled down my spine. The trail sped up.

"NO! NO! NO!"

I braced myself, steeling my nerves.

I ripped my walkie-talkie fro my belt, pushing the button fervently. "The Visitor is about to appear. Over."

Lockwood's voice crackled through. "Stay calm. Throw a canister of iron filings if you need to. Remember what I said, Luce. Call me verbally if you really need me. Over and out."

I bolted into a strait-backed position. Elizabeth's ghost began to appear. Sandy blonde hair, blowing in an unseen breeze, held back by a white ribbon from her shaded face. Grey sheathe dress also billowing. The weeping was louder than ever, shrieking sobs, pounding in my ears. A pressure in my ears began to build.

I steeled myself. I could not show any fear. "Hello, Elizabeth."

"Ooh, fearless, aren't you?" The skull jar jeered. "Remember what happened last time when you did this, Lucy."

I didn't take my eyes of the Spector.

"I thought you loved me."

"Elizabeth, I can help you. I'll bring you peace."

"How could you..."

I stepped back in the circle of chains, iron filings now in my hand.

"HOW COULD YOU!"

The tears stopped again, shadow withdrawing from her face. The crimson tears streamed from her shiny black eyes. She lunged, the psychic wave strong enough to knock me backwards painfully. The pressure in my ears was building. The ghost was propelled backwards with a shriek and a spurt of ectoplasm by the iron chains.

"IT HURTS!"

The cold was prickling now, nipping at my cheeks and nose like the constant pecking of a woodpecker. She lunged again with breakneck speed. I threw the canister of iron filings, and the spirit, with a wail, disappeared. I fell to my knees, panting. The cold was now numbing. I pulled my scarf out; winding it around my neck. I waited for a few minutes before Elizabeth's form began to appear again. The psychic pressure returned.

This time, it wasn't just an aggressive apparition. She began to change. A deep gash formed in her stomach, staining her dress. Her head lolled on her shoulder. There was a gash there as well.

Blood from the wound on her stomach dripped down her arms, splattering on the marble.

I realized with shock that the obituary had not been tampered with. It had been put there on purpose. Because Elizabeth hadn't been wounded in one or the other. She had been wounded in both. Someone had put the article in the archives to show someone the truth. But who had asked it not to be there in the first place? And why?

The blood trailing from her eyes fell faster. I ripped another canister of iron filings from my belt, hurling it at the Spector. She was gone again in a burst of ectoplasm and a psychic shriek.

My breath came out in quick, tiny puffs. The air burned in my lungs. I pulled my canteen from my belt, and took a large gulp of the warm liquid. It felt amazing as it slid down my throat, warming my core.

Suddenly, the pressure in my ears began to build again. I looked forward, and there she was. She was floating above the ground a couple of inches now.

She lunged again, sending me back onto my backside. I stood up, and swung my rapier in the warding knot Lockwood had helped me with. She let out a loud shriek that left my ears ringing, barreling backwards, and bursting into a spurt of ectoplasm.

I made a mental note to use that ward more often.

She appeared again minutes later, wreathes of other light trailing behind her as she advanced towards me. She wasn't moving quickly this time. She was moving slowly, like she was immersed in molasses. The shadow on her face was there, but her marble-like eyes were visible, shining in the darkness. The pressure in my ears had moved to my head, and was pounding painfully. She was angry. Livid. I could feel the force of it slamming over me like a tidal wave.

She plowed forward suddenly with her arms outstretched, slamming into the iron barrier. The force of the impact sent me sprawling back, my head knocking on the floor painfully. The pressure was pounding like a pulse.

I pulled myself to my feet slowly, wincing at the pain in my head, and she slammed forward again. I managed to keep my balance this time, but the force almost sent me keeling over the edge of the iron chains.

I took a deep breath. I can handle this. I used the warding knot again. She was shoved backwards, into a spurt of ectoplasm. I put my hands on my knees, leaving heavily. I told myself to stay strong, and not use a Greek Fire. Not after what happened with Annie Ward.

Not even a minute later, she was back. The pressure was so bad it felt as if my head would explode. I gritted my teeth. I needed Lockwood. I had tried everything... Everything but...

I set down my rapier, and turned calmly to the Spector. "I'm not here to hurt you."

"You're going to get yourself killed doing that. Not that I care."

I nudged the jar with my foot. "I can help you."

Elizabeth's spirit paused, and then continued forward. It seemed as if she'd comply.

"I LOVED YOU!" She lunged forward again, her shriek reverberating in my inner ear. Her anger was stronger now.

The barrier stayed strong. I lifted my rapier again; held it in front of myself. This wasn't going to work. The skull jar, as much as I hated to admit it, was right.

I needed Lockwood.

I massaged my temples, trying to soothe my throbbing head. The ghost lunged again, her hair and dress now full out billowing in the unseen wind. She knocked against the barrier, rushing back with a shriek of anger and pain. I fell backwards again, hitting my head. I propped myself painfully up on my elbows. She began to advance again. The pressure in my head was pounding.

He said call verbally. So that's exactly what I did.

"Lockwood! I need your help!"

I winced at the desperate tone in my voice. I reminded myself not to show emotion around the visitor. A few seconds later, Lockwood came barreling around the corner. He jumped into the circle of chains, and the ghost whizzed over to the spot he had been in. It shrieked in frustration, and barreled toward us. Lockwood stood his ground, teeth gritted as the Spector slammed against the chain circle. He performed a warding knot I had never seen, sending her back hard, and with a shrill cry, disappeared. The pressure in my head dissipated. He then turned to me.

"Luce, are you alright?" Lockwood's dark eyes glittered in the dark, brow furrowed. He stuck out his hand, and I took it. He pulled me to my feet, and steadied me by placing a hand on my waist.

"I'm fine. Thanks, Lockwood." I leaned forward, resting my hands on my knees. "She won't be gone for long."

Lockwood nodded, and promptly stepped from the chains. He walked over to the pool of blood that still resided on the floor, dipping his rapier into the liquid.

It sizzled. "Yup. Still plasm. I don't know what else I expected it to be. Luce, Come on. We're going to the next room."

I hesitated before following him.

The room was the same as before. Empty, save for the pool of blood on the floor. The light of Elizabeth's spirit sat behind the sofa, blinking like a dying bulb. Lockwood stuck the tip of his rapier into the pool, and it sizzled exactly like the pool outside.

"Plasm. Just as I thought." Lockwood quickly grabbed my hand, leading me to the sofa. Elizabeth's spirit sat curled into a ball, semi-transparent legs pulled to her chest. Her blond hair fanned across her shoulders, whispery. Crimson tears ran down her cheeks, ebony eyes showing no emotion. She hadn't noticed us.

Lockwood led me away from the sofa. "We need to search the room. Look for anything. Anything that will help with the case."

He strode over to the bookcase. I didn't know what he meant to accomplish with that, but he was Lockwood, so I didn't think much about it. I knelt down next to the rug, laying my palm flat on the surface. Something faint. I pulled up the corner of the rug, placing my palm down flat again, this time on the floorboards.

Oh, I got something this time.

Love. Confusion. Heartbreak. Fear. Searing pain. And then, anger. White hot, burning anger. The emotions swirled together like a hurricane, beating like a drum. I pulled my hand away, and when I did, tears prickled the corner of my eyes.

"Lockwood, I got something..."

He turned to me. "What?"

"You will never know..."

"I will never know what...?" I said softly. I stood up, glancing to where Elizabeth was sitting. Except she was no longer sitting. Her anger tugged sharply at the edges of my mind like a riptide.

"Lockwood," I said breathlessly, followed by the squeal of metal as I drew my rapier, "She noticed us."

Lockwood nodded, and followed suit. He grabbed my hand, dashing from the room as the ghost lunged, legs passing clear through the sofa. The pressure in my head was back, pounding and crashing like thunder. A wind began to churn through the hall, blowing my bangs into my eyes.

Suddenly, Lockwood's grasp slipped from mine. My foot was caught. I fell down onto the ground, landing painfully on my left arm. The spirit raced closer with breakneck speed as I tried to get myself up. Curls of Other-light mixed with the Ghost fog, curling around me. Lockwood sped toward me, and grabbed my hand. He hardly gave me time to grab my dropped rapier before dashing towards the chains.

"GO, GO!" Lockwood shouted over the screeches and wails, and pulled us into the circle of chains, putting me behind him. The Spector crashed against the barrier, wailing in frustration. Lockwood shouted something I was unable to hear as he preformed a warding knot, sending her swiftly back into the wall, where she disappeared. The pressure dissipated

I let out a shaky breath. My heart was beating a mile a minute, and I was sweating, even in the chill. Lockwood's hair stuck to the back of his neck and his forehead.

He turned around, placing his hand on my shoulder, the other one moving up to brush hair from my face. I could feel my cheeks burning.

"Are you alright? That was quite a fall you took."

I looked down at my boots as Lockwood brushed another lock from my eyes. "I'm alright. My arm hurts a bit though."

I ignored my instinct to reach up and take his hand. It was warm, even through a glove; comforting even. I sighed softly.

Lockwood pulled me into his arms, hugging me tightly. I hugged him back, sighing. I breathed in his scent; tea leaves and a faint musty smell. "Lockwood, I can take care of myself."

Lockwood sighed. "I know Luce... It's just hard not to..." Lockwood paused; trailing off. Pulling away; he kept a hand on my waist, "...worry sometimes"

"Lockwood, you have nothing to worry about."

"I know Lucy. Your so strong. I just..." He paused again, "If something happened to you, I don't know what I'd do. Your the best agent this agency has ever had."

I smiled, and despite myself, I felt a heat rise to my cheeks. I looked down at my boots, heart pounding.

"I..." My head snapped back up to him. "I need to protect you. I'd rather die than have you hurt."

At that moment, I felt like kissing him. I didn't know why. Butterflies flitted violently in my stomach, blood pounding in my ears. Instead of doing anything, I spoke.

"We all need to look out for one another, Lockwood. We're a team."

"Bloody brilliant." The skull jar murmured. "God, you two know how to ruin something once it's already kicked off."

I set my jaw, nudging the jar sharply with my foot. The ghost just chuckled wickedly.

Lockwood gave me a megawatt smile. "That's the spirit, Luce. Now, I think it's over for now. It's almost 6 a.m."

Sure enough, fingers of sunlight peeked through the curtains, casting pencils of light across the marble floor. The plasm was gone; Ghost fog fading.

Now that the light was present, I took in his appearance. His face was as handsome as ever, hair flecked with dust, singed a bit at the tip of one forelock. His rapier steamed lightly from the plasm still staining the blade.

George came up the stairs. His hair was messy, eyes sleepy. He looked us both once over, and smiled.

"You two seem to have quite the night. I saw some Shades, and a couple Tom-O-Shadows, but not much else. I'm guessing you had another run in with Elizabeth? Any reports?"

It occurred to me that I hadn't told Lockwood about the wounds. I piped up immediately. "About the wounds. One of the apparitions appeared with two wounds. One in the neck, and one in the stomach. Both were pretty deep."

Lockwood grinned. "Great job, Luce! But that means-"

"Yeah." I cut in, "Someone added an article. They needed someone to know the truth. Or something along those lines."

"Perfect," George remarked, "Good job, Lucy."

Lockwood's expression became serious. "Now, all we have to know is what the source is. And most of all, why was she killed, and who was she killed by?"

"I'll go to the archives." George said, "You two can go home, rest up, shower, etcetera. I'll help pack up."

And so we did. We gathered our materials, had a last cup of tea, and we were off. George was dropped off at the archives, and Lockwood and I headed back to 35 Portland Row.

"I'm exhausted." I said when we were in the cab, suppressing a yawn.

Lockwood smiled wearily, not suppressing anything when he yawned.

"Luce, what did you feel back there? When you touched the floorboards?"

I thought for a second, searching my tired mind. "I felt love. Fear, confusion. And rage. Terrible rage. I think it was echoes from when Elizabeth died."

"I think your right." Lockwood said. He closed his eyes, leaning back in his seat.

"For now, I need rest." I said silently.

"Ditto." Lockwood muttered back.

When we got back to 35 Portland Row, I immediately took a bath, washing way all the grime. I lay in the water, hair fanning around my head, and thought about what had happened not even half an hour ago.

The apparition was much more persistent this time. She attacked numerously. I sucked in a breath, and drained the tub. I dried off, slipping into pajamas, and thought about the case until sleep overcame me.

Oh wow, that was longer than I expected it to be. God. I really loved how it turned out., Did you like the fluff I stuck in there? I'd love to know! Anyway, review!

~Starry