Archive of Our Own ^beta

This was going to be a lot harder than George had anticipated. He had started formulating a plan as soon as Joplin had dragged him and Kipps down to the catacombs, but now he was starting to doubt his strategy. Not because he had to act, he could do that perfectly if need be. No, it was the fact that he was going to have to put Lucy through serious grief that broke his heart.

He and Lucy hadn’t gotten along great when Lockwood had first hired her. They had needed a new agent, but George had felt a little left out when Lucy had demonstrated her considerable talent. Her listening was on the same level as Lockwood’s sight, which meant that it was loads better than George’s paranormal talents. It had also taken him a while to get used to having a third person in the house, and Lucy was strong headed and opinionated. Not to mention as rash as Lockwood. Still, as the months passed they’d gotten closer, and she had started to mean as much to him as Lockwood did. He hated the fact that she was in the catacombs with him.

George carefully kept his eyes trained on his lap, and avoided looking in the direction of Lucy, who was nothing but a dark coloured blur beyond the circle filled with the ghosts connected to Edmund Bickerstaff’s mirror. 

It had been a surprise to see her down in the catacombs when Joplin woke him up, and not necessarily a pleasant one. He had hoped sobadly that his friends would stay safe. That they’d go to DEPRAC and get Barnes involved. He should’ve known they’d come looking for him first.

Lucy was on her own, and apparently had gotten caught halfway through her rescue act, because she was standing next to Kipps’ chair with her arms awkwardly bent to the side. George guessed Joplin had tied her to the chair. She had tried to talk Joplin down, but the man was too far-gone. George knew he’d been influenced by the mirror and the ghost as well, but he had been able to push past Bickerstaff’s influence while Joplin apparently hadn’t even put up a fight.

It hadn’t been hard to feign desire when Joplin had pulled the cloth away from the bone glass and urged him to look into it though. Even now, while he was almost blind, he could feel the urge, the need to look upon the mirror. He turned his head and bit his lip.

“Ignore him, George!” Lucy cried, panic shimmering through her voice.

“Mr Cubbins…” Joplin said impatiently. George heard him flick through his notepad for an empty page. Even deeply under the influence of the ghost drifting on the other side of the room, he was a man of science. George had to suppress a scoff. Killing a boy was fine, as long as you properly recorded it apparently…

“Mr Cubbins, you will do as I ask! Otherwise…” the man paused as if he needed time to think up a proper threat. “Otherwise, I will take this knife and cut the throats of your friends!” George didn’t have to fake his shock at this. He shot up in his chair and tugged at his bonds. The held strong.

“Okay! Okay, I’ll do it!” he said, and the panic in his voice wasn’t all faked.

“No George!” Lucy said, her voice shaking. “You’re absolutely not to!”

Kipps butted in with a comment, but nobody paid him any mind.

“Don’t give into it, he’s bluffing!”

“Bluffing? You know, I belief poor Jack Carver thought the exact same thing…”

George took a deep breath. Now came the hardest part.

“It’s no good, Luce…” he said quietly. He tried to keep his voice small and meek, as if he had already given up fighting. “I’m going to have to do it, I can’t help myself anyhow… I’ve got to look, the mirror is tugging at me, I can’t resist…” He kept his eyes on his chest now, fighting the tears that welled up when he heard the desperation in Lucy’s voice.

“No!” there was a rattling of wood on stone, and George guessed she was tugging on the bonds that kept her tied to Kipps’ chair. “If you do this George Cubbins, I’m going to be somad!”

“It’s alright, Luce…” he gave a sad smile, but mentally he was already begging her for forgiveness for what he was going to do next. “All this mess is my own fault, and after all it’s what I’ve always wanted, isn’t it? To uncover mysteries, to do something no one’s ever done?”

“Well spoken! I’m proud of you, young man.” Joplin said, and a wave of resentment crashed over George like a cold shower. How could he have thought this man was a friend? “Now, I stand ready to record your words. Don’t stop to think, speak fast and clear. Tell me what you see!”

“Please George,” Lucy tried once again. It was odd to hear her beg, and his stomach turned around at it. He had reduced the proud, strong girl to pleading…

“She’s right Cubbins, don’t give the madman the satisfaction!” Kipps butted in. Nice of him to try.

“Will everyone please be silent!” Joplin shouted. It was as if he was teaching a class of unruly university students instead of forcing a teenager to kill himself, George thought wryly. He ignored the twitchy man.

“Lucy, about all this. I know I was weak, and what I did was wrong. I’m sorry for it. Tell Lockwood for me, okay?” He prayed that she wouldn’t have to, that he’d be able to tell his best friend himself, but now that he was going trough with his plan, fear crept up in him. What if his poor eyesight wasn’t enough to protect him from the mirror’s deathly grip?

Still, as an agent in training you learnt not to give into hesitation. He lifted his head, and gazed in the direction of the mirror.

Lucy screamed his name, and there was a whisper of a voice he hadn’t heard before, but nothing else happened to him. All he could see of the mirror was the distant darkness within the glass. 

“Tell me Cubbins, what is it that you see?” Joplin asked eagerly as Lucy cried out his name again. “Speak boy!”

Now he really had to put his acting skills to the test. He widened his eyes, as if he had just gotten the surprise of his life, and he tried to radiate bliss. He thought it was best not to try and be too detailed, so he kept his delighted whisper simple.

“I see things… Beautiful things!”

“Yes, yes! Go on!” Joplin sounded like he was on the verge of bursting with delight. George refused to give him more satisfaction.

He let his mouth sag open, relaxed his muscles.

“George! Look at me now!” Lucy cried.

“Quick!” Joplin shouted. George let his jaw sag some more and gave the deepest sigh he could muster. He threw in a shudder for good measure and slowly let his eyes slid almost completely shut. Now came the hardest part of his act. He let his head tilt sideways against his shoulder, gave one last twitch and then tried to keep as still as possible.

For a moment it was all he could do to concentrate on playing dead. He tried to slow down his breathing as much as possible and keep his eyes still. It seemed to work.

He heard Joplin complain loudly about not getting anything useful or scientific. The man reacted exactly as George had expected him too, throwing a foot stamping tamper tantrum because dawn was coming and his experiment had failed. He’d probably try again, and would cut George’s ties to make place on the chair for either Kipps or Lucy. He just needed to wait it out.

“George, wake up…” Lucy’s broken voice cut through him like a knife, and he wanted nothing more than to look up and assure her he was all right. But he couldn’t. It was too soon to give away the act already.

“It’s no good, Carlyle. He’s gone,” Kipps said softly.

“Oh no,” Lucy protested, and George could imagine her shaking her head in denial. “He always looks like that. You should see him in the mornings. He’s just a bit sleepy, aren’t you George? George? Come on?”

Despite the deep desperation in them, Lucy’s words made him want to laugh. Even know she was ribbing on him.

He didn’t react though, just kept hanging limply on the chair instead. For a moment his mind flitted back to Jack Carver, to the way he’d breathed his last breath on the rug in the hall. Did he look like that? Limp and empty?

Lucy let out a little moan, and George’s heart broke even further. He was going to have to come up with something big to make this up to her.

Joplin started muttering to himself, and George went into a state of alertness.

“Keep away from her!” Kipps said sharply.

“Your turn will come presently.” Joplin responded, “Meanwhile be silent, or I’ll loose the master on you.” There was a soft ripping sound. “Walk to the other chair.” Joplin commanded.

George heard two sets of footsteps coming closer. The sounds echoed strangely against the ceiling, which made it hard pinpoint where Joplin and Lucy actually where, and for a moment he was afraid he wouldn’t get the timing right.

“You’ll be making a mistake if you make me look into the mirror,” Lucy protested suddenly. “I talk with ghosts, they talk to me. I can tell you many secrets, there’s no use in me dying!”

“Walk forwards! I don’t believe you, I’m afraid.” Joplin scoffed. “Who has that talent?”

“I do! I have a type three with me! Its source is in my bag close by. Bickerstaff is nothing compared to it! Let me show you!” 

It spoke to how strong Bickerstaff’s influence was that Joplin barely hesitated. George would have dropped everything he was doing to verify that claim if somebody had made it to him.

“I still don’t believe you,” Joplin said instead. “But, if you have a relic with you, I shall examine it closely later.” Ah, so there wasstill some personal curiosity left after all.

A moment Later, George could feel Joplin’s presence behind him. He held his breath and prayed the man wouldn’t feel the tremor in his hands as he cut the rope that bound them.

“Pull the body out and sit in the chair!” Joplin commanded.

“I’m not going to do that,” Lucy said. Now that Joplin was behind him, George had opened his eyes, and he could see Lucy’s blurry figure stand in front of him defiantly.

“You haven’t any choice,” Joplin replied smugly.

“Wrong. I’m going to collect my rapier from where I dropped it. Then, Mr Joplin, I’m going to kill you.”

Lucy’s voice was cold and harsh, and with a jolt George realized she absolutely meant her threat. He lifted his head slightly when Joplin came back into view. The man stretched out his arm and made to grab Lucy.

George got up from the chair. 

Pandemonium followed. Lucy screamed, Kipps gave a strangled gasp, Joplin made a weird noise between a wail and a growl, and dropped his knife. George jumped forward and heaved Joplin away from Lucy, making him crash into the mirror’s stand.

He straightened himself up and shot Lucy a smug wink.

“George? How?” the girl started, but George didn’t let her speak.

“Bit busy, ask me later!”

With that he threw himself on top of Joplin. He was going to make the bastard pay for what he did to them. George would never forgive him for making him hurt Lucy like that.