A/n: This prompt, man, I spent a solid five minutes just staring off into space trying to think what I could do. Like, obviously this is a really easy one, but then it's hard to choose who should be the whumpee. I had originally planned for it to be for a whole 'nother fandom, but I'm also in my Lockwood and Co phase and was like, maybe this would be better. The first quote prompt though really had me stuck (I keep reading it over and over again but it makes no sense to me) but I found a way out of it ;)
"It should have been me."
Whispered words in the dead of night with tears on his face.
"It should have been me."
Murmured in his sleep as he saw it happen over and over again in his mind's eye.
"It should have been me."
Five little words repeated so many times that they were now a fundamental in his life, always clinging to him and poisoning his mind and memories, every moment tainted by the notion of that at the back of his mind. Five little words ingrained into his brain and actions ever since his sister had died.
He remembered hearing the screams, her shouts. They echoed in his mind at the worst times, just like they'd echoed through the hallways that day, reaching him from her bedroom across the whole house.
He'd never run as fast as he had then, he thinks, rushing to save his sister only to be too late. His own stupid, childish, grudges costing him the life of his only remaining family member. God, how could he have been so stupid then? People always told him it wasn't his fault, he was a child, it was a mistake, he shouldn't blame himself because there was nothing he could have done. They all lied. They didn't understand.
They didn't know what it was like to be helpless to do anything but watch as his own sister died right before him, all because he was too slow, too young, too stupid. He'd only moved when there'd been nothing he could have done to save her. He'd only moved to stop the ghost from killing others, to trap it as if that would be revenge enough. He hadn't understood then. He only understood later.
He should have just let the ghost kill him then. Would have saved a lot of people - including him - a lot of trouble. Sped things up, and made everything just so much easier.
Spared him the pain that made him wish he was dead anyway because he didn't feel very alive.
A few weeks after when everything had calmed down enough, he'd been allowed to go through his parents' and sister's things - his things now, really, even if they were only so in name. They would forever belong to his family, a family of ghosts.
He'd found a tape in one of the boxes he'd found, labelled 'Jessica and Anthony'. There'd been plenty of pictures of him, Jess, his whole family together and happy but this had been the first tape he'd found that didn't seem to be one of the rare recordings of lectures his parents had given. He'd been too young then to really understand much of what his parents talked about regarding their research, but he'd been smart enough to not let the people take away all of them. This tape was evidently different though, and he had wanted to see what was on it but a part of him hadn't.
He remembered thinking back then, that his young mind hadn't wanted to watch it because then that would mean this really was all that was left of his family, of Jess. He didn't want it to replace his memories of his sister, a recording to be all he remembered, so he hadn't listened to it. Not for a while anyway, though he'd kept it separately on his desk instead of packed away with the majority of the other things.
One night - he didn't know how long after Jess had died but maybe a few months - he'd woken up from a nightmare only to realise with horror that he suddenly couldn't remember what his sister had sounded like. Her exact voice escaped him any time he tried to search through his memories and he'd cried when he couldn't remember. All his fears had become true; forgetting being the worst thing he could ever do in his mind.
So he'd barely thought about it when he'd frantically searched for the tape player in the middle of the night all so he could finally listen to the recording. It'd taken him fifteen minutes and a whole lot more tears before he'd spotted it with blurry eyes at the bottom of a box filled with pictures. It'd taken ten seconds to dash back and put the tape in.
"Shh, Don be quiet. We don't want them to know we're here," his mother's voice hissed, talking to his father. A soft, low chuckle sounded.
"Why not?"
"Jess might get self-conscious. You know how she gets. She'll only read out loud to Ant. I want to make sure that we have it recorded just in case I miss them on our next trip. A whole month… I don't know if I'll be able to do it…"
The sound of a kiss was faint but there. The smile in his father's voice was evident.
"You'll be fine. They'll be fine. They get to stay with their 'fun uncle' remember? Remember how big little Anthony's smile was when we told him that?"
"Yeah," his mother laughed. "I remember. But come on, we're going to run out of tape. I want to get a recording of them, quick."
"Okay, okay," his father whispered, amused. They must have moved closer to the room where him and his sister were because Jessica's hushed voice could be heard now, getting louder as the recording went.
"…'Do or die, you'll never make me, because the world will never take my heart,' he told the monster, and the monster sneered. He opened his mou - "
"What does 'sneered' mean?" A little Anthony's voice interrupted his sister, and a small sigh could be heard.
"It means that he did this, Ant. Made his face go something like this."
A squeal of surprise and a giggle from inside the room. "Ugh your face is all funny."
Another laugh joined the giggles. "Yes, I suppose it is a bit funny."
The giggles paused and the faint noises of shifting sheets could be heard. "Mummy, Daddy! Why're you hiding behind the door?"
Jessica's laughs stopped abruptly and she cleared her throat a little. "Oh, Mum, Dad, didn't see you there."
The creak of a door. "Don't stop telling the story on our account, Jess. I don't know about Ant, but I want to hear what the monster did," his mother said.
"Yeah," his father chimed in. "But I thought this was supposed to be a bedtime story. What kind of scary stories you reading to your brother before bed?"
"It's not scary!" Anthony protested, only to earn a chuckle from both his parents.
"Well, either way, you certainly seem more awake than when we sent you up here."
There was a guilty silence, before Jessica muttered something that sounded suspiciously like an excuse.
"Oh, no you don't," his mother said, and a few seconds later, Jessica protesting and then squealing could be heard. "You too, Don. Put that thing away and join us."
"Okay, I'm coming," was the last thing said before a click sounded and the giggles and shouts were cut off too.
They'd had a big group hug, he remembered, the recording triggering the actual memory so vivid, it was like he was living it. Jessica had squirmed for the first bit, trying to get out by using the excuse of saving the book and putting it somewhere safe until his mother had snatched it and tossed it on the table and Jess had given up, limp as she lay on top of him and their mom, their dad sandwiching them all. They never did finish the chapter of the book that night, but no one really minded.
After the recording had finished though, he'd been left feeling even more empty than when he'd started, the reality of that being a thing of the past hitting him hard. His family was gone and he was left there, sitting on the cold floor at an unholy hour of the night, crying his heart out as he listened to the recording over and over again until he finally fell into a restless sleep.
He'd listened to it many more times after that, usually just on the darkest nights, but while it made him feel less alone for the shortest while, it only ever left him feeling more empty afterwards. The gaping hole in his chest growing bigger with every reminder of what he'd lost until he'd finally just shut everything away in Jessica's room and shut everyone out of his life. He couldn't afford to let anyone else in because he wasn't sure the hole could get any bigger without ripping him apart.
It was a system that worked, for the most part, even if it was a lonely life. One he started to wish would end soon, one he wouldn't wake up to every day, and soon enough, wish that he wouldn't wake up at all. It wouldn't even change anything. No one cared about him anyway - his own design but it was necessary for this reason - so no one would miss him. He wouldn't be the cause of this kind of pain for someone else.
It was working so far. Pushing people away, that was, not working towards joining his family soon.
It was going great.
Right?
"Lockwood! First candidate's here! Wanna bet how long she'll last?"
Oh sod it all. He should have known better.
"Got to see her first before I make any judgements, George. Now, before you let her in, do put on a belt. Can't have your backside scare her away before she even steps in."
George just grinned. "I'd argue that should be our first test. If she can't handle this," - he unnecessarily gestured to his backside in question, - "then how can we expect she'll be alright with ghosts?"
"George, please. Perhaps later, if we start getting bored or there's too many of them, but not for the first poor girl, surely."
"Oh, alright. Don't wait on me then, go ahead and let her in. But I say she'll be gone before I even come down."
Lockwood put on his winning smile, already with a hand reaching out to the door. "Oh, have more faith in people George. Not everyone can be amazing as me, but that doesn't mean they're so bad."
Before George can reply, he twists the doorknob.
"Hello, and welcome to Lockwood & Co. I'm Anthony Lockwood, founder of this small agency. Please, come on in, and right this way for your interview."
A/n: Well that ending is vastly different from the rest of this fic. Don't think there's much else to be said really about this story. We all know Lockwood has problems, and one of the problem and also solutions is Lucy. And George I suppose. Quite interested to know the story of how those two met now that I think about it, might write a fic about that if anyone has any ideas I like lol.
But anyway, still got a lot of catching up to do for Whumptober, so stay safe, and see ya soon.
- CrowofArcadiaOaks