Lockwood

My name is Anthony Lockwood.

I'm telling you this, because I have been told the responsibility for recording the events at this point lies with me, and you might not have cottoned on to the fact that Lucy has laid down her pen and buggered off for a cup of tea and a chocolate hobnob (or three – in strict rotational order, of course!).

Apparently, I am the "only person who can write the next section", which I find rather hard to believe given there were seven of us agency staff involved in the next bit, (nine if you are counting living and deceased persons or maybe even ten!). Of course, I also understand that someone else needs to narrate the events. I mean, what more can you do when your usual narrator proves unreliable enough to drop into a coma, with the story only thirty percent told?

I tried getting George to write it, but he tells me that he only writes serious scientific papers, not horror movie scripts (or romance novels). To which the only reply I could make was that I've read some of his "serious scientific papers" and they are absolutely horrific, although possibly not in the way he meant. I also tried Holly, but she just gave me a look and now she's buggered off to join Lucy for a cup of tea and slice of Ryvita and cottage cheese (Holly, not Lucy).

At times like these, when my team starts to show an element of insubordination, I do wonder if it is time to introduce annual performance reviews and performance-related pay. But the one time I mentioned it to Lucy she laughed so much I thought she was having a seizure.

Then she said, "No."

It was in that tone which scares the living shit out of me. So, I dropped the idea.

There are, of course, others who I've asked but, for various reasons, they are unsuitable. The main reason for some is that you haven't met them yet and, of course, three of them can't physically hold a pen. (One of those latter just gazed at me with rapt attention and his tongue hanging out of the side of his mouth. So, he was no use.)

But I'm getting ahead of myself.

My reluctance to write about the aftermath of Lucy's collapse and subsequent events has absolutely nothing to do with laziness or disinterest. It's because, even though said subsequent events were on paper more catastrophic, I still have nightmares about the end of that particular case. The one at the school. Nightmares in which I still see Lucy drop to the floor; where I remember the complete feeling of helplessness at seeing my life fall apart in front of me - again.

So, forgive my facetiousness.

Believe me, I was far from flippant at the time.

As Lucy fell, my whole world ground to a shuddering halt and plunged south, as though I'd stepped into a deep dark crevice in some far-off frozen land. Without warning, I listened in terror to her scream, watched in horror as her legs crumpled beneath her, and all with absolutely no clue as to why.

I could not see a ghost. I had not seen Lucy anywhere near a ghost that evening. Yet the cry of agony was heart-rending and the way the colour drained from her face was like watching the life leech from her being. Gone was the pink warmth which seemed to permanently live in her cheeks when we looked at each other, replaced with the grey, almost blue, tones of near death. Her legs could no longer take her weight and she folded in on herself like a house of cards, built on a washing machine which had just reached the spin cycle.

I cleared the distance to the circle and her side as quickly as I could given that my legs were pretty wobbly too.

As I knelt beside her, Lucy opened her eyes briefly, turned away from me, and projectile vomited across the room. There was no time for revulsion, I took her head onto my lap, brushed the hair from her face, pulled a handkerchief from my pocket and wiped the mess from her mouth.

"Get a fucking ambulance!" Someone shouted.

It might even have been me.

Holly was beside me in an instant and I was incredibly grateful. My own body had stopped responding to my commands and waves of blackness threatened around the edges of my vision. Technically, there was nothing physically wrong with me, but fear had set in and one of my infrequent panic attacks was just around the corner. Usually, the first person to spot an attack is Lucy. She's so good at talking me out of it. This time the panic welled in me as I realised my lifeline had snapped.

I watched as Holly gently lifted Lucy's wrist to check for a pulse. She gave a grimace as she looked up at me.

"She's alive. But her heart is racing." She said, eventually. "Judging by her pulse rate and the sweat on her forehead, she's in significant pain, that's why she's unconscious." She took a deep breath as though summoning up courage. "Lockwood, I need to put her in the recovery position, in case she is sick again."

I frowned, wondering why she was telling me this. Then I realised she wanted me to surrender Lucy's head. The calmness of her request and the sureness of her movements reassured me a little. I nodded and shuffled away from Lucy. A short distance, but it felt like miles.

"Coat." Holly ordered. Still crouched on the floor, I removed my coat and rolled it into a ball for Holly to place under Lucy's cheek, as she began positioning her on her side. I didn't want to get in the way, so I stayed close, but did not touch.

I hated that I couldn't be the one to help. I looked down at my hands, they were shaking violently. I'd be no use in any case.

Kipps appeared at the door. "Ambulance is on its way. It's a bizarrely quiet night and the ambulance station is less than five minutes away according to the despatcher, so we shouldn't have to wait too long. George has gone to flag them down. When they come, you guys go with Lucy. I will finish up here and get the equipment back to Portland Row."

Holly nodded. "That sounds sensible. Do you have your key?" Kipps nodded. "Where's the nearest hospital?" She continued.

Kipps shrugged. "Despatcher says we are mid-way between three hospitals. It will depend on the crew."

The despatcher had been right about the ETA. As he finished speaking, we could already hear the distant braying of the night ambulance.

When the paramedics arrived, I heard them pause at the door. Glancing up I saw George was beside them and I tried hard not to notice how pale and frightened he looked. I knew how much Lucy meant to him, so we avoided each other's eyes because if we looked at each other the tears might never stop.

"Site status?" The medics asked cautiously. "This is shown on our map as a hazard area."

"Contained, sealed. No salting necessary." Kipps replied. "You're safe to enter."

Then the angels of life arrived in the room, clad in silver-edged green and yellow, a waft of strong lavender scent filling the room. They introduced themselves and one knelt beside Holly to examine Lucy's still form.

"What happened?" The other one asked me.

I froze. I couldn't speak, but I need not have worried, because Holly was her usual calm, implacable self.

"We don't actually know. We had just secured the source and were clearing up when she screamed and fell to the ground."

"Is delayed ghost-touch a possibility?" The paramedic asked.

Holly shook her head. "No. Lucy had stayed out of the fight." Holly glanced at me. "You said she was abnormally tired and benched her, didn't you, Lockwood? She's been out of sorts all day."

I managed a jerk of my head in response.

The paramedic nodded and made a note. Holly leaned closer to the other paramedic.

"You should know that she was recently injured in a workplace incident. It was an abdominal wound which required a hospital stay, but she insisted on outpatient treatment. We thought she had fully recovered. There was no sign of discomfort, but I think she's currently in a lot of pain - strong enough she's unconscious - and she vomited." Holly indicated the evidence off to one side.

"Ok. Let's get some specifics down."

Holly sat back to let the first paramedic get on with her work on Lucy. We watched as the professional adjusted Lucy's posture, checked vitals and connected equipment to her fingers. Identification bracelets were added and notes were made on a clipboard.

Holly moved closer to me as the male paramedic started to ask me questions. It was Holly that answered, giving Lucy's full name, address, and date of birth. I could do nothing except let the whole conversation wash over me. My focus was totally on Lucy where she lay still before me. My whole world lay on that cold, damp basement floor.

Then one of the questions asked made me look up.

"And can I have Miss Carlyle's next-of-kin details?" The paramedic asked.

I flinched, remembering the conversation Lucy and I had in the cemetery just a few short days ago, when life had seemed so different…so perfect.

"Form KC01A. aka Kin Contact form 1A. It's a statutory requirement. It's why the hospitals call your mum every time you get injured."

"I need to get that sorted out. She's made it clear she wants nothing to do with me."

I'd felt horrified at the time. That her mother thought so little of Lucy she wouldn't even respond to a hospital summons. The contrast with my own blessed mother was stark. Mum had been so gentle, so concerned over the slightest cold. Lucy's mum…How could you be like that with your own child?

Despite my anger, we'd never talked about the form again. There just hadn't been time.

Holly was speaking.

"Next-of-kin? Anthony Lockwood. Same address." She announced, pointing at me.

I looked up in surprise but said nothing.

"Relationship to Lucy?" the paramedic was making his way down the standard form.

"Fiancé". Holly said in a matter-of-fact tone.

I stared at her. She shook her head at me. We can talk about this later.

The paramedic didn't notice, and the questioning continued.

"Later" was when they were loading Lucy into the ambulance. I was on my feet, my coat back on and my rapier in my hand, rather than sheathed, so that I could sit down when I boarded the ambulance myself.

"Thanks, Holly." I murmured. "For the fib."

She frowned. "What fib?"

"Next-of-kin?" I prompted.

She smiled weakly. "Oh, that!"

Holly put a hand on my arm and leaned closely.

"Actually, I told the truth. I sent off Lucy's KC01A form this morning. She altered it yesterday. You're down as her next-of-kin now. She was going to put partner under relationship, but I told her some hospitals get funny about that, so we put fiancé instead. Her second contact is George. He's down as brother. No-one ever checks. I did something similar for George, remember? It's why his parents never found out about his hospital stay. He didn't want them hearing about it from some faceless bureaucrat."

I nodded, but could say nothing, only watch as my "fiancée" was strapped onto the vehicle's gurney.

The journey to the hospital was made in record time. There hadn't been room for all of us, so George followed on in a cab. I heard him order the cabbie to "floor it and don't lose the ambulance." I would have laughed but…well, you know.

Early on, the medics put Lucy on a drip and gave her some strong painkillers. She re-gained a degree of consciousness. By that I mean, she murmured and moved, but her eyes remained closed, and nothing of what she muttered made sense. We were relieved to be allowed to travel with her, at least.

Holly sat beside me, her hand in mine. She wasn't the person whose hand I wanted to hold, but it did help a little.

"She's in good hands." Holly told me. "They'll get to the bottom of this."

I didn't reply. I just sat and watched the stricken form of the girl who had quickly become the most important thing in my life. I wanted to change places with her. I wanted to take all the pain away.

I just wanted to see her smile at me again.

The ambulance swept round the bend on the hospital drive, passed the pedestrian entrance and pulled up outside A and E. In a well-practiced routine of clunks, clicks and clangs of metal on metal, the doors opened, and Lucy was whisked trolley and all, into an assessment area marked "Resus".

We weren't allowed to follow.

Instead, we were redirected to the Waiting Room, to begin one of the hardest waits of my life.

The waiting room was…well…a room. Four walls, I suspect. Some chairs, probably. I honestly couldn't tell you anything about it.

Except the ticking of the clock on the wall.

I vaguely remember George arriving. He tells me it was moments later, but I had no clue. I remember that only because I watched Holly cross the room to him and envelope him in a hug, then I watched the tears run down both of their faces.

My own cheeks were incomprehensibly dry.

"They wheeled her away." I heard myself say. "Why?"

I saw George and Holly exchange a glance. Holly gave a reassuring smile she probably didn't feel and patted me on the shoulder, like a granddaughter reassuring her geriatric grandparent.

"The doctors need to look at her, Lockwood. Remember?"

I looked up at her blankly. A panic attack was brewing again.

George was about to say something and then the doors to the room opened.

"Anthony Lockwood?" A voice called urgently. I stood up and faced a pleasant woman of about thirty-five. She was wearing the shapeless blue cotton trousers and top of a medical professional, and there was a stethoscope around her neck.

"That's me." I responded. The shaking was really bad now.

"Dr Ahmed." She introduced herself. "I'll have to be quick. We are off to theatre." I nodded, but I frowned, wondering why the doctor was telling me about her social arrangements.

"Operating theatre." Holly added gently. I was grateful for the clarification. Some of the confusion lifted at least.

"Operating theatre? What's wrong with Lucy?" George was a little more with it than me.

Dr Ahmed nodded. "Lucy has a burst appendix, which has led to peritonitis. We need to operate urgently. I won't know anymore until I see what's going on inside, so the priority is getting the appendix out and clearing up the infection. The quicker we respond, the better her recovery."

"What caused it?" George asked. "Was it her wound?"

"I honestly don't have time to even think about that right now. We need to get to theatre. If you come with me, you can see her briefly before we take her down."

"All of us?" Holly asked.

"If you are quick." The doctor allowed.

We followed her out into the corridor and down to a small side room where Lucy was being cared for. I swallowed hard as we approached the bed. It was surrounded by medical people who moved out of our way, exposing the medical equipment monitoring Lucy.

"She seems calmer." Holly noted to the doctor.

"We've given her a lot of sedation and pain relief. We've also started the antibiotics to fight the infection. That will be the biggest risk when the appendix is removed. The infection is quite far along. I'm surprised she didn't react sooner."

"She's a strong woman." Holly said with a catch in her voice. "She works hard to save a lot of lives. It's not an easy job and we are injured pretty much every case. I doubt she even noticed the symptoms of something so…normal as appendicitis."

I watched as our friends approached Lucy's bed and bent to squeeze her hand or kiss her cheek. Then they stepped away and it was my turn.

I had no idea what to say, but I stepped forward anyway.

Then I took a deep breath.

"You fight, Carlyle." I muttered at her ear. "That's an order from your supervisor – and your partner. You fight for our future. For what we both want."

I kissed her lips gently and then bent to her ear again.

"And if you can't fight…if this is it… I'm right behind you. ALWAYS."

Lucy gasped in her dreamscape and there was a sudden alarm at the machine monitoring her. The doctor's eyes widened, and she signalled to the nurse.

"We need to get her in there, right now!" She insisted. And she paid no attention to us as Lucy's hospital bed was pushed urgently away.

"What the hell did you say to her?" George demanded as soon as we reached the waiting room again.

I shrugged. "I told her to fight." I told him a half truth.

"Yeah, right." He muttered. "And the rest. I know you, and so does Lucy. My only consolation is that clearly there's enough Lucy still there for her to react to your stupidity."

He had a point.

I'm not going to prolong the description of how long we waited, how miserable it was or how often we looked to the door at every noise, movement or just because it had been sixty seconds since we'd last looked.

We waited.

And waited.

In time, the noise and movement at the door was the approach of the doctor again. She'd donned a fresh set of scrubs and she looked tired, but the urgency was gone from her movements and when she entered the room, she motioned for us all to sit down.

"Lucy is a very lucky girl." She began, primarily talking to me as 'next-of-kin'. "If there had been any further delay, I'm not sure the operation would have been enough to save her. Even now, whether she is out of the woods or not is still to be determined. The infection has been leaking into her system for a while and we need to see how she responds to the antibiotics. But the actual operation went well. Her previous wound is healing nicely and likely had no impact on the appendix. Though it's unlikely, there are a few documented cases of trauma-triggered appendicitis, but I think it's pointless trying to point the finger at a particular cause when the priority is getting Lucy back on her feet."

"Where is she now?" I managed a coherent sentence for the first time in hours.

She smiled wearily. "She's in intensive care. I'll get you in to see her for a short while, but I'm afraid I can't let everyone up, nor can you stay for very long. Lucy needs a rest more than anything." She looked around at our whole group. "As do all of you guys by the looks of things. Heavy case?"

Holly nodded. "Thirty-six ghosts on a former school site."

The doctor's eyes widened. "And you three dealt with them? Four with Lucy."

"We have a fifth team member who stayed to close the site, but yes, our agency only has five members."

"I have no idea how you do it." The doctor confessed. "At least human patients are predictable and not normally trying to kill you."

Holly smiled. "You have medical school; we have our training too. Without you, we'd have many more 'clients'. Without us, you'd have many more patients. We are two sides of the same coin."

Dr Ahmed nodded. "Well for what it's worth, I and my colleagues are very grateful."

George chuckled. "Doc, you took the words right out of our mouths."

Lucy was calm, at least, when I saw her and to my relief, she was breathing unaided. I tried hard to find a little more life in her face, but her skin was still deathly pale. She slept deeply in an unnatural way, so I knew it was an enforced sleep brought on by medication, because there was no way she could sleep naturally amongst the bleeping and clicking; the movements of the staff who had been assigned to look after her. Dr Ahmed introduced me to Lucy's nurse and then left us to it, promising to update me in the morning. Sharing her exhaustion, I hoped she was going off shift to rest, but saw no relief in her eyes, so doubted that was her destination.

"Lucy is comfortable." The nurse began. She was about ten years older than Lucy with blonde hair and grey, kind eyes above her face mask. "And though she looks pale and there's a lot of equipment, she's doing ok, and she will start to come around soon. Let me explain what all the equipment is for."

It wasn't strictly necessary. I didn't care what all the boxes and lights did, so long as they worked, and they kept Lucy safe. But, while she was walking me through all the chaos, the nurse was not asking me questions, and I was grateful for that. I was still unsteady on my feet, my hands still shook, and speech came haltingly.

The respite didn't last long.

"How long have you been engaged?" The nurse asked suddenly, jerking me away from my private contemplation. I looked blankly at her for a second and then recalled Holly and Lucy's subterfuge.

"Not long." I managed to respond.

She smiled. "I thought not." I frowned at her response. "No ring on her finger." She explained.

I relaxed my face. "Er…no. Haven't got around to it yet. Lucy wants something simple. I want something worthy of her. We have yet to find a happy medium."

Where the hell did that come from?

There was truth in it, however. Lucy did have simple tastes. There were no airs and graces about her, which was one of the things which I appreciated the most. Lucy was no-nonsense in the best way. Less sharp in her anger, more firm and transparent with her opinions. She worried about others as much as herself and if she did suffer fools badly it was because they were, after all, fools. Flo had similar characteristics at times. Thankfully, Lucy was more…stable. Yet, another one of the reasons I'd kept Flo at a distance.

Who was I kidding? I'd kept everyone at a distance for much of my life. Until Lucy.

The nurse busied herself straightening blankets.

"My younger brother is an agent." She told me quietly. "With Bunchurch & Co in the city. He was at the Chelsea outbreak and of course, later his boss…"

I sighed in sympathy and put a hand on her arm. "I'm so sorry. How's your brother doing?"

She tilted her head in a jerking motion, as if saying "So-so".

"He's engaged too. To a girl at the archives. My parents are happy. I think now they feel there is a chance he might jack it all in and retire. Might give them grandchildren like me. We aren't a particularly talented family. I was a sensitive and chose to take that into nursing, you wouldn't believe how useful sensitivity to ghosts is in my field. Michael had a bit of touch, but his talent isn't particularly strong these days. It's a race to get him out of the job and safe. They want a quick wedding and we all agree, so that's good. What do your family think about it? Are they happy about your engagement?"

A quick flash of emotion hit me. Would my parents have wanted me engaged at this age? I mean, we weren't actually engaged of course, but if we were and mum and dad were still alive, would they have liked Lucy?

It was a ridiculous thought, because if mum and dad were still alive, I wouldn't be an agent, Lockwood & Co would not exist. I'd probably be following them around the world carrying their bags or something, learning the family business of trekking through remote places in extreme heat and discomfort in a desperate search for artifacts. They'd have had a better hit rate if I'd been there of course. Nothing would change the fact I had Sight as a talent. That would have been…interesting.

But then, I wouldn't have met Lucy.

"Lucy and my colleagues at the agency are the only family I have." I answered the nurse's question truthfully. Since Lucy, I had found it easier to talk about my family. Not easy, but easier. "My parents died young, and my sister followed shortly after. They never met Lucy."

"I'm so sorry."

"It was a long time ago."

Then I smiled at a memory from two days ago. Lucy and Jessica talking to each other. "But, yes, they would have loved her. I know for a fact Lucy has a lot in common with my sister." Obviously, I couldn't explain how I knew that.

The nurse smiled. "Well, I'll give you ten minutes with Lucy and then she really needs to rest." She pointed to a panel on the wall with an orange button. "If you need me press this and I'll come straight through."

"Thanks."

I waited until she'd left the room before I pulled the bedside chair forward. Then I sat down. I wish I could say that sitting at hospital bedsides was alien to me, but, alas, rather like funerals, I've done my fair share of hospital visits, most recently with George after Gale's mindless attack. They don't get any easier and this was possibly the worst.

Lucy was lying on her back, her arms by her side. It was yet another jarring note of unnatural sleep, because in recent days I had slept beside Lucy in more salubrious circumstances, and so now I knew first-hand that she always slept on her side.

*Ahem*

Apart from that night in the library when we fell asleep on the sofa. When Lucy fell asleep on me.

Oh god! And now I sound like an absolute cad who makes a habit of climbing into bed with the girl who he's only been technically dating for a matter of days.

Let me reassure you…It was all completely innocent, and I behaved myself.

Honestly!

Actually, you should already know that. I might not have seen Lucy's previous chapters, but she did tell me that she had mentioned the library.

Which raises a good point, perhaps I should ask her to show me what she has already written…

The cotton-mesh blanket was a pale lilac colour and cool to the touch. Lucy's hands on top of it were unusually bare of nail polish. I frowned as I was sure she had been wearing nail varnish earlier in the day, but I remembered that surgeons and anaesthetists don't like painted nails in the operating theatres. Something to do with monitoring oxygen levels by the colour of the nailbeds. I wondered how I even knew that.

One of Lucy's hands, her left, had a canula in it, taped heavily in a way that said, 'Don't touch' and there was something clipped to the finger. Her rapier hand, however, was free. Hesitantly, I reached across and took it in my own. It was reassuringly warm.

"Hey, Luce." I began. My voice sounded alien to me, so I coughed softly and kissed her fingers.

"Hopefully, you know who this is. I mean, I hope you aren't used to random strangers kissing your hand while you're asleep and I really hope you aren't expecting anyone else to be here doing that. Otherwise, I think it might be time for a chat…about us."

I chuckled nervously. Lucy didn't respond.

"And, of course, Holly explained about your little white lie on your Kin form, so technically, as far as the hospital is concerned, if anyone else is here kissing your hand and murmuring sweet nothings in your ear, that would be you cheating on your fiancé. You…erm…might want to bear that in mind."

I frowned. "Not that we are…or that I think you are, I'm just…hell, Lucy! I have no idea how to handle this! I'm supposed to be the reckless one in this relationship. I'm supposed to be the one who risks ending up in hospital with their loved ones at the bedside…going through absolute hell and I…"

To my horror, I realised what I'd just said. I stopped dead and my eyes widened. I think, for the first time ever, I truly understood the very real fears Lucy had when I put myself at risk, when I got injured. Every time I overstepped on a case, Lucy didn't see the action I took or my reasons behind them, instead she saw, in advance, the aftermath – her sitting beside an unconscious Anthony lying in an intensive care bed…or worse. She felt a degree of pre-grief… and hurt.

Hurt that I would put her through such pain.

Her frustration, disappointment, and anger with me in those moments suddenly became completely understandable. The frustration I was experiencing, by contrast, was nowhere near as bad because this was down to Lucy's health, not her recklessness.

She hadn't done this deliberately.

Not the way I did.

I rested my forehead against her hand.

"I'm soooo sorry, love." I told her. "I get it now. I understand. I understand why you get frustrated with me. I understand why you feel hurt sometimes when I'm reckless. But most of all I fully understand why you left me. I don't deserve you. I really don't."

A change in frequency in the beeping made me look up. It was faster now, but not excessively so and as I raised my head to look at Lucy, I saw her eyes were flickering open.

"Lockwood?" She murmured.

I stood up and leaned towards her.

"I'm here."

A ghost of a smile found her lips and she closed her eyes again.

I went on. "Until the day you turn me away. I'll always be here." I told her. In that instance, I meant it.

"Won't happen." She whispered with a degree of effort. "You're stuck with me. And you shouldn't make promises you can't keep." She frowned. "What happened to me?"

I pulled the chair as close as it would go and rested my chin on the side of the bed as close to her ear as I could get it.

"Your appendix burst." I told her. "I think you owe the cabbie an apology. The nausea wasn't his fault."

"Ouch!" She muttered, but I wasn't sure if it was a cry of current pain or a comment on what I'd told her. "Where am I?"

"Lewisham hospital." I told her. "You've had surgery and the drip is giving you antibiotics to clear up the infection. George and Holly are here too, but they aren't allowed in the room."

She opened her eyes again. "They let you in." She pointed out.

"Spousal access." I reminded her. "Apparently, we're engaged now?" I smirked at her. The colour finally rose in Lucy's cheeks.
"Shit! Sorry!"

I chuckled. "It's fine. Much easier than explaining our whole set up. I gather you've gained a brother too, to add to the six sisters?"

"Holly's idea. Seems to have worked." She winced as she tried to wriggle in bed. "What's my prognosis?"

I swallowed. "Surgery went really well. You've just got to be a good girl and rest. It helps that you're fit." My own colour rose as my words registered in my mind. "So, to speak." I coughed then. "I'm allowed in for a few minutes and then I've been told to go home to bed. I'll come back tomorrow and bring you some of your things."

In confirmation, Lucy squeezed my hand where it still held hers.

"And the case?" She asked eventually, her eyes drooping.

"All sorted. Kipps has shut it down. I'll catch up with him when we get home." I was losing her, I could tell. Losing her as in she was drifting back off to sleep. "I should go."

Lucy nodded. "Lockwood?"

"Yes, love?"

"Behave yourself. Nothing reckless. Promise?" Her voice was wavering again.

"I promise. Get some rest. I'll come see you tomorrow."

"Good. Lockwood?"

"Luce?"

"Always."

I grinned. "Always."

I have Sight. Unfortunately, I don't have second sight. Otherwise, I would never have made the promise I couldn't keep.