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coughdontfeelwellcough · 1 year

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For The First Time (L/ockwood and Co)

Summery: An easy job goes wrong when Lockwood fails to mention he’s sick, luckily Lucy is always there to pick up the pieces.

Words: 3459

Author’s Note: Hi guys, so I’m abolutley obsessed with L/ockwood and Co, and if you’ve not watched it on netflix yet, please do!! Its about ghosts, ghouls, it’s found family, there’s plently of whump and one of the best slow burn romances I’ve seen in years! I’d like to add this is based off of the tv show where all the characters are in their early twenties.

TW: Mentions of death and suicide. (mentions only in the terms of the ghosts)

I hope you enjoy!!

Lockwood had promised it would be an easy job, only a couple of type-ones in an old hotel, currently undergoing construction. It should have been open and shut, so why in the taxi back to Portland Road was Lockwood all but unconscious in the passenger seat and Lucy sat clutching an injured arm?

Stupid, stubborn Lockwood, that’s why.

“Are you sure we shouldn’t have brought George?” Lucy asked, struggling with the extra bags.

“Yes, because if I had to listen to him sniffling for another minute I would not be responsible for my actions,” Lockwood replied.

George had been suffering with a particularly noisy cold for the last few days and though finally on the mend it was nice to get a bit of a break from his complaining about not being able to breathe through his nose. Even if it meant the added bags were giving her back ache.

They entered the hotel through a back door, a key having been left for them. It was clearly having work done, the walls were bare, the kitchen had been half ripped out and there were various bits of building equipment everywhere. They made camp at the reception desk, the front doors had been bordered up and sofas covered in dust sheets. Still they managed to find some chairs to sit on to drink their tea.

“Do you think this was a nice hotel once?” Lucy asked.

She’d never been in a hotel before, her family never went on nice holidays. They’d be lucky to get a caravan on Skegness beach.

“Hm? I don’t know… Maybe,” Lockwood replied.

Lucy looked over to see Lockwood facing away from her, his tea half undrunk.

“Are you okay?” she asked, thinking about it Lockwood had seemed a bit distracted all day. He’d nearly forgotten to pack the chains and they’d gotten lost on their way from the tube station.

“Absolutely fine Luce,” he said, giving her one of his charming smiles. Though Lucy couldn’t help but notice it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Shall we begin?” he said, checking his watch. It was past six and the dusk had crept in making the shadows on the walls tower over them. Lucy nodded and started gathering up their things, though she couldn’t help but notice his tea stayed unfinished.

“Where are we going?” Lucy asked, pulling the chains over her shoulder.

“The third floor, the reports sai…” Lockwood paused, stifling two sneezes into his coat

sleeve. “HI’TWX… HIT’SSX.”

“Bless you!”

“Sorry, dust,” he said, rubbing his nose with his fist.

“You’re sure you haven’t caught George’s cold?”

“What? Of course not,” he said smiling, his nose a little pink.

Lucy wasn’t convinced but didn’t say anything and just started up the stairs. The third floor was a mess, ceiling tiles were missing, wallpaper peeling and various doors hanging by their hinges.

“Looks like no ones been up here in a very long time,” Lucy said.

“It was abandoned not long after The Problem started, not many people felt safe staying in the city,” Lockwood replied.

Lucy nodded and started laying the chains in a circle in the largest part of the hallway. She’d not long finished when the temperature started to drop.

“Are you feeling that?” Lucy asked.

Lockwood nodded. “10 degrees and dropping,”

“How many are we dealing with?”

“Should be no more than three, two suicides and an heart attack,” Lockwood replied, coughing lightly. Lucy looked over at him as he ran a hand over his face, he looked tired. Even more so than usual.

“Do you want to sit down or something? You look knackered,” Lucy said.

“Luce, I keep telling you I’m fined.” She didn’t miss the stuffiness in his voice but didn’t have time to say anything as she heard a ghostly voice call out.

“I’m sorry…. I’m so sorry…”

“Can you see anything? I’ve got a voice, it keeps saying sorry.”

“I’m sorry… I couldn’t do it anymore….”

“Lockwood?”

A ghostly figure had appeared at the far end of the hallway and was slowly making its way toward her.

“Lockwood?!” Lucy yelled, looking around he wasn’t anywhere to be seen. Then she heard another voice, closer and more desperate.

“Help me! Oh god… Please help me…”

Lucy drew her rapier and moved to the centre of the circle, where was Lockwood? He was behind her just a second ago.

“I’m so sorry….. Help me!” The voices were so close they were blurring together, Lucy reached into her belt for a salt bomb.

“Lockwood!!” she screamed one last time and then she saw movement to her left in one of the rooms and there was another noise, it sounded like someone coughing?

Lucy edged out of the circle and toward the room, rapier raised and ready. The door was already off its hinges and she entered slowly, keeping the creeping ghost in sight for as long as possible. She found Lockwood hunched over and hacking up a lung in the corner, he sounded awful.

“Lockwood!” she snapped.

He finally looked up to see her and even in the low light she could see how sickly pale he was.

“Lucy, what’s wrong?” he rasped, choking back another cough.

“I’m being cornered by two ghosts and my backup is too busy dying to help!”

“I’m not dying,” he sniffed.

“Then get over here! I’ve got one coming down the hallway and another approaching from the right.”

They edged back out of the room together, Lockwood sticking to Lucy’s left. Up close she could hear the congestion in his breathing, how’d he managed to get so sick so quickly? He’d seemed fine only a little while ago.

The visitor in the hallway had reached the iron circle, it was a wispy thing in the vague shape of a man. It was still repeating how sorry it was and something seemed to drip from it like it might have been bleeding. Lockwood threw a salt bomb at it and it disappeared as Lucy went after the one in the right hand room. It was larger than the other one, more fully formed in the shape of a rather large man. It hoovered near the floor like it might have been kneeling.

“Help me… Help me please…” It continued to beg, Lucy honestly felt bad for it. It must have been an unpleasant death. Keeping her rapier steady in one hand she got a salt bomb but before she could throw it there was a noise from the hallway.

“Lockwood?”

When he didn’t reply she swore and backed out of the room, salt bomb still in hand. Lockwood stood outside the iron circle, rapier raised to ward off a third visitor. This one had come from behind them and was creeping at a quicker pace than the others. The noise she’d heard was Lockwood, he was sneezing.

“HITT’SSHWW…. HIISSHH’TEWW…. HISSHHHH’EWWW….”

The ghost was getting far too close and Lockwood’s hand was shaking as he tried to hold his rapier steady. Lucy barely had time to react; she ran to Lockwood, wrapped her arm around his waist and threw them both into the circle, landing painfully on her right arm.

“Shit…” Lucy laid on her back, her toes touching the chains and sore arm across her chest.

“Thanks Luce, I thought I was a goner…” Lockwood said, breathing heavily.

“What happened? You were fine one minute,” she said, pushing herself up with her good arm.

“It snuck up on me, I didn’t see it until it was on top of me.” His voice was getting congested, his words stuffy.

“Because you’re sick and were too busy sneezing to notice,” Lucy replied, she’d just about had enough and was ready for a large mug of tea and a bath.

“I am not sick…” Lockwood tried to argue but it sounded more like “I amb dot sick.”

Lucy opened her mouth to argue but was stopped when the ghost she’d been previously dealing with joined them in the hallway. It seemed larger than before but still appeared to be kneeling, floating barely above the floor.

“I thought you’d got that one,” Lockwood sniffed, running his wrist under his nose.

“Sorry, I was a bit busy saving your life!” she snapped. Getting to her feet, Lucy picked up her rapier from where it had fallen, it felt wrong in her left hand but her right still felt pretty useless.

“On the count of three, throw a salt bomb at it,” she said.

“I’m out.”

Lucy cursed, she was going to kill him. She’d dropped hers and couldn’t use her hand to get into her bag.

“What do you have?”

“Magnesium flare,” he replied.

Lucy groaned, they’d been trying to avoid the use of magnesium flares after the events of Sheen Road unless desperately needed and it seemed injured and ill seemed desperate enough.

“Use it, just be ready to run!”

Lockwood stood beside her, his hair was everywhere and there was an unnatural brightness to his eyes.

“Ready?” he asked, putting his hand on her good arm.

Lucy nodded and he threw the flare, it exploded in a rain of iron, salt and fire. They ran down all three flights of stairs and out the door, only coming to a stop once they were outside in the glow of the ghost lamp. Lockwood was coughing again, so hard he was shaking. Lucy put her arm around him and guided him over to a low wall and forced him to sit. He finally regained control of his breathing though she could hear congested rattling about in his chest.

“You’re an idiot,” she said.

“Why?”

“You’re ill! And you didn’t bother to tell me! You nearly got us both ghost touched in there, what were you thinking?” Lucy snapped, running a hand over her face.

Now it was over she could feel how much her body ached, her skin burning from where the magnesium had touched it and her right arm was still throbbing painfully.

“I’m fine,” he sniffed, pulling a well used tissue from his pocket.

He looked awful, a good few shades paler than he usually was, his nose was already bright red and his cheeks had an unhealthy feverish tint. Lucy was quite tempted to yell at him some more but decided against it, she just wanted to get back to Portland Road, plus she knew George would have a few choice words when they got in.

The taxi was surprisingly quiet, Lockwood was curled up against the window, the only noise being his coughing and sniffling. Lucy sat on the other side, her injured arm on her lap. It was probably only a sprain from the fall but it definitely hurt. She was still mad at Lockwood but looking at him, looking the picture of illness, half asleep against the window it was hard to stay mad at him.

It had just gone 2am when they pulled up outside No.35. Lucy had to help Lockwood to the door as he was shaking so badly, luckily George must have seen them approach and opened the door before they’d even reached the first step.

“What the hell happened to you?” He said.

“Just help me get him will you?” Lucy asked.

Between the pair of them they got Lockwood onto the sofa and under a blanket as he was still shivering so hard his teeth were chattering.

“Is he ghost touched?” George asked, looking over his friend for signs of injury.

“No,” Lucy replied, collapsing on the sofa beside him. “He’s got your cold and didn’t tell me, nearly got us both killed.”

“Jesus Lockwood, what were you thinking?” George asked.

“I dob’t have your cold,” Lockwood replied, though his point was nearly lost on how stuffy his voice was.

Lucy rolled her eyes and reached her good hand up his forehead, pressing her cool fingers to his overheated skin.

“No, but you do have the flu apparently! You’re burning up Lockwood…”

Lockwood groaned and leant back against the sofa, seeming to accept for the first time that he was indeed ill.

“Good god, I miss one case and it all goes to hell..” George muttered.

“Can you make some tea please George? And get the first aid kit? I’ve done something to my wrist.”

George nodded and they heard him descend the stairs into the kitchen.

“You’re hurt?” Lockwood asked, his voice barely a whisper.

“It’s nothing, just a sprain. I landed on it when we fell.”

George returned with two of their largest mugs of tea, the first aid kit and a whole pack of tissues.

“I’m not sure we’ve got any flu meds, I’ll have to go in the morning and get some,” he said.

“I keep telling you, I’m fin’d,” Lockwood argued, though he was clinging onto his tea like it was the only thing keeping him alive.

Lucy just sighed and opened up the kit, looking for something she could bandage her wrist with.

“Here, let me.”

Lockwood put down his tea and took the kit from her. He laid her wrist in his lap and began carefully wrapping it up until his breath starting hitching.

“HHHh…. hhHH…Hhh… HHHITISS’EEWW… HIST’SSHHewww…. HI…HIS…HISTT’SSHHEWWww…”

He sneezed into his shoulder, his whole body shaking with the force of them.

“Bless you!” said both George and Lucy.

“ No…Not… Done….HISSHH’Ewww…. HITTSH’EEWwww….”

“Jeez Lockwood, you sound awful,” George said.

“I’m f…”

“If you say fine I am going to kill you,” Lucy said.

Lockwood sighed, coughing into his fist. “You guys are such bullies.”

“Only when you’re being an idiot.. Which is all the time,” Lucy smiled as Lockwood tried to scowl at her but he just looked like a sick puppy. They stayed until they’d drunk their tea and eaten a sufficient amount of biscuits then slowly they made their ways to bed. A good night's rest was in desperate need for everyone at Lockwood and Co.

So when Lucy was woken at 7am, a mere 4 hours after going to bed she was not best pleased. At first she wasn’t sure what had woken her but then she heard it again, a sound was coming from downstairs and it sounded a lot like coughing. Lockwood. Lucy got up, her legs wobbly after the long night and made her way toward Lockwood’s room. The door was closed but she could still hear him, desperate, hacking coughs that sounded like they were tearing at his chest. She knocked at the door.

“Lockwood? Are you okay?”

“Luce?” His voice cracked and he coughed again.

Lucy pushed up the door and found him sat up in bed, wearing one of his oversized grey hoodies and looking like death.

“Are you alright? I’ve seen type twos that look better than you,” she said.

“I think you and George were right, I feel like hell,” he said, leaning back against the headboard. Lucy did really feel bad for him, he sounded and looked awful.

Whatever bug he’d picked up had taken him down hard and fast.

“Can I get you anything?” she asked.

“Some tea would be amazing,” he croaked, his voice nearly gone.

“Okay, tea is coming up.”

Lucy went down to the kitchen and put the kettle on, she was surprised George hadn’t woken up at the sound of Lockwood’s coughing or the sound of the kettle but it was probably better if at least one of them got a decent sleep. Lucy finished making two large mugs of tea and was about to head back to Lockwood’s room when she saw him on the sofa instead.

“What are you doing out of bed?”

“Thought I’d be comfier here,” he said, pulling the thick blanket around his shoulders.

Lucy just shrugged and gave him his tea before joining him on the sofa.

“Is it me or does this tea kind of taste like snot?” he asked.

Lucy laughed. “It’s you, you’re so congested you probably can’t taste anything.”

Lockwood gave a stuffy groan. “What kind of illness makes tea taste bad? That’s just evil.”

“You’re obviously just that lucky,” Lucy laughed.

Lockwood frowned and pulled his legs up to his chest, he was shivering again.

“Are you cold?”

He nodded, coughing roughly into his fist.

“Do you mind?” she asked, holding out her hand. She’d never asked to touch him before but this seemed different, they were alone and he was vulnerable. More vulnerable than she’d ever seen him and it felt weird, like they’d crossed into unknown territory.

“Go ahead.”

Lucy leant across and placed her hand on his forehead then she trailed down to his cheeks and neck.

“Your fever’s risen…” She went to remove her hand but he stopped her, putting her hand back against his cheek.

“That feels nice,” he mumbled, eyes closed.

“I should really find a thermometer…. And something cool for your head…”

“Don’t go..” His voice was so weak, so small. It was unlike him to ask for anything, how could she deny him?

“I’m not going anywhere.” she ran her hand through his hair, detangling the sweaty strains. He leant into her touch until his head rested on her shoulder.

It doesn’t take them long before they’re both asleep again, curled up together on the sofa. And that’s how George found them a few hours later, Lockwood snoring through his congestion with Lucy’s arms around him.

“Great, now you’re both going to get sick. Then what am I going to do?”

“What’s George complaining about?” Lockwood asked, his face pressed against Lucy’s shoulder.

“Don’t know, don’t really care,” Lucy mumbled, still half asleep.

“I said, what am I going to do when you’re both sick? I’m not going out there by myself,” George said, vaguely gesturing to the outside world.

“Maybe Lockwood and Co is going to have a little break, can’t kill us right?” Lucy said.

“As long as we don’t lose any customers. George I need you t…. HIST’WX… HIS’TWX….” Lockwood stifled two sneezes into his wrist with a wince, no doubt they were hell on his throat.

“Bless you, you’ve got to stop doing that, you’ll burst an eardrum,” Lucy said.

Lockwood groaned and blew his nose into a tatty tissue “I just need George to ring Mr Morgan on Thames Street and tell him we’ll be there next week and…”

“Lockwood stop it, we’ve got it. The agency isn’t going to fall apart because you take a sick day,” George said.

“Yeah… Yeah, you’re right. I’m sorry,” Lockwood sniffed.

“Did Lockwood just say sorry? Quick Lucy, check his fever. He must be dying!”

Lucy laughed and Lockwood tried but only ended up coughing, hand on his chest as the coughs tore through his lungs.

“Breathe, breathe, you’re okay,” Lucy patted his back and forced him to drink sips of water until the fit ended, leaving him drained and shaky.

“I think you need to go back to bed,” Lucy said.

Lockwood nodded, looking exhausted. The dark marks under his eyes were worse than usual, especially against his pale pallor.

“And I’m going to go out and get you some medicine, is there anything you’d like?” George asked.

“Ice lollies? Mum always gave us ice lollies when we were sick as kids,” Lockwood said. He so rarely mentioned his family that it was a testament to how awful he was feeling, to be in need of such comfort.

“Of course, anything else?”

“Get him some cough stuff, I don’t want to have to drag his butt to hospital with pneumonia,” Lucy said.

George nodded. “Okay, I’ll be back soon.”

Lucy had to help Lockwood back up the stairs, he was so weak and feverish that just standing up was a great effort. He curled back up under his pile of blankets with a sigh, his shivers finally starting to ease.

“Try and get some sleep, I’ll wake you when George gets back with the meds,” Lucy said.

“Hey… I didn’t say you could go.”

Lucy smiled and sat on the side of the bed, her hand finding his.

“Go to sleep,” she said.

“I’d sleep better with you here,”

Lucy chuckled, she couldn’t deny him that either. He’d made sure to leave enough room for her to climb in beside him. He curled up to her, his head on her chest and her arms around him. It wasn’t the first time they’d touched or even fallen asleep side by side but it was the first time one of them had asked for it, and maybe it was the first time they’d both start to think there was something more there. But in that moment it didn’t matter, he needed her and she would always be there to help pick up the pieces.

“Feel better Antony.”

#Sickfic #l/ockwood and co #snez #snezblr #snez fic #coughing #fever #L/ockwood is a stubborn idiot #I love them all so much

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