#out of sight

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A/N:This story is like my poor, neglected child. The good news is that now that this chapter is uploaded, there are only two chapters left to go, and my direction for the story is much stronger. I’m on holidays right now and one of my goals is to get back into writing. It’s been hard, because I haven’t written anything in over a year (yikes!), but I’m absolutely determined, because you guys deserve an ending as much as Lucy and Alfendi deserve happiness.

Also - I mentioned this a while back, but like some other fans of LBMR, I’m no longer using the names Potty and Placid. Firstly, the nicknames just sound terrible, and secondly, they’re quite demeaning. Instead, I’ll be using Al for Potty, and Fendi for Placid. These nicknames are delightful and suit each personality nicely.

Enjoy!

–

Being an inspector of Scotland Yard carried a few perks.

Certainly not the pay – both Alfendi and his bank account could attest to that with confidence. Not the long working hours either, though neither side of him had ever minded that part of the job.

The freedom one gained after the tedious climb up the ranks was incomparable. Alfendi was in the fortunate position where he wielded enough influence for people to actually listen to him, yet was shielded enough from the public that most of his wrongdoings would go unnoticed by the media. The fire raging in the town might be a different matter, but it was the least of his worries for the moment.

However, as he was wheeled through the hospital on a stretcher, he knew that the real benefit to being with the Yard was queue-jumping the medical process like injured royalty. Neither Lucy nor himself would spend any time in waiting rooms.

But everything was happening too quickly for his drugged body to fully process. Craning his head, he saw only strangers.

“Wh-Where’s Lucy?” His fingers gripped the sleeve of one of the nurses, but the material slipped away from him. He stared at the digits, numb and disconnected from his body and mind.

Fear clutched at him and in his panic, he tried to sit up. Gentle hands pushed him back into the stretcher.

“You’re being treated for different things, dear,” a calm voice replied. “She needs to see different doctors. You’ll see her soon.”

He didn’t like that, but his words died the second he tried to summon them from his throat.

They arrived in a large room, where one doctor tended to the gunshot wound on his ear, whilst another focused on his right arm. The glass had been removed by medics on the way to the hospital, and after checking that there was none left and that the scratches had been disinfected, the second doctor applied a clean bandage that wound from his elbow down to his palm. Checking him for signs of concussion – had he hit his head? – she appeared satisfied that he would be okay.

“You’re going to have a rough few weeks, but I can’t see any signs of lasting damage,” she explained. She handed him a glass of water and two painkillers. “Keep your excitement to a minimum, and you’ll heal just fine.”

Through his blurred vision, Alfendi tried to make out her name badge.

She noticed and smiled. “Doctor Wells.” She extended her hand.

“Thank you,” he murmured, shaking it weakly.

“Get some rest,” she said. “Doctor’s orders.”

He didn’t have much of a say in the matter as he was wheeled to his room (completely unnecessarily, Al thought, but Fendi had the sense to accept).

The painkillers kicked in as soon as his head touched the pillow, though he felt like he sank right through and was falling down and down.

–

He awoke from nothing with a gasp, hands gripping the sheets.

“Alfendi!”

The woman seated next to him jumped, her hand rising to her chest.

“Hilda?” he croaked, registering her blonde, wavy hair. “Hilda, what-”

“Hush,” she ordered, and though her tone was sharp, her expression showed her concern. “I know you’ve never liked shutting up but give yourself a minute before you start babbling.” Leaning forward, she rearranged his pillows before pushing him into them. Waiting a further few seconds, she was satisfied that he was listening. “It’s currently half ten at night,” she continued. “You arrived here at five. Doctors assessed your condition and you’ve somehow come out of this without lasting damage.”

He remembered that much. Breathing in, he waited for the rest of his thoughts to unjumble. His ear throbbed – he’d been shot. His arm was heavy – there had been glass shards in it. His head was foggy – he’d fallen and hit it.

After he’d deduced those things, all the events came back to him at once. He tried to sit up but his head throbbed. “Lucy-”

“-is fine,” Hilda interrupted. A smile caught the corner of her lips. “She’s been asking about you too. You’re much worse for wear than she is.”

Hilda’s answer eased his mind as much as it could, without actually seeing Lucy in person. He needed to know more. “What are her injuries like?”

“She was treated for her hand wound. It’s nasty, but with time and rest it will heal. They’ve also checked her for potential poisoning, which-”

“Poisoning?” he spat.

“She was drugged when they captured her, Alfendi,” Hilda replied. “As a precaution the doctors have taken a blood sample to make sure it was nothing bad.”

“And the results?”

“The hospital hasn’t returned them yet. However, it seems you’re both well liked. One of your colleagues from the Yard – the small one, brown hair – ran her own test.”

“Florence Sich?”

“Yes, that’s the one. The results came back clean.”

Nothing could have restrained his sigh of relief. If Florence had run the test, then he knew it would be reliable.

It was fine. It was fine.

As much as he longed to seek out Lucy’s room, he knew that given the hour, she was probably in a much-needed slumber herself. Not to mention that even though he hadn’t seen his reflection yet, she would be horrified by his condition. His hand reached up to touch the dressing on his ear, and he instantly recoiled as sharp pain shot through it.

“The bullet tore through some cartilage,” Hilda said. “The doctor has told me that it shouldn’t impact your hearing, but it won’t look the same as it did before.”

He didn’t know what to say to that. His mind was too foggy to think about what this might mean for him in the future. He was about to thank Hilda, but when he looked at her face, he knew that there was more.

“Both of the thugs have also been admitted to hospital. The one that was shot, and the one with glass in her eyes.”

“Carter and Briggs,” he replied. “I didn’t shoot Carter – neither did Lucy. He eventually turned on his partner and she shot him in retaliation. He was going to try to free us.”

“Do you think Briggs is the head of the operation?”

“97.3% sure,” Fendi replied automatically. “Is Carter okay?”

“He’s come out of surgery, but it looks promising. The testimony from him, you and Lucy will be very valuable.”

“I think he’ll cooperate. His partnership with Briggs has been sour for a while, from what I could tell.” Thinking about her caused spite to run through him. “And what of Briggs?”

“Handcuffed to a bed and heavily guarded. She’s a spiteful thing, isn’t she?”

Something stirred within him, and he swung his legs off the bed. It took all his effort not to wince. “I want to see her.”

She sighed. “Alfendi-”

“It’s my only chance, Hilda. After she’s discharged from hospital, she’ll be in custody, and given I’m now a victim in this case, there’s no chance they’ll let me question her then.” He saw her firm expression and tried again. “Please. She hurt Lucy.”

To everybody else in the world Hilda would have looked the same, but he knew her well enough to see that his bid had worked. Ever so slightly, her lips softened, and her piercing gaze lowering a fraction. “I’m well aware.” She looked him over once before sighing. “You are too convincing for your own good, Alfendi. Follow me.”

–

Hilda did him the favour of walking more slowly than usual to ensure he could keep pace. Regardless, his body ached, and he had to stop twice to rest.

Arriving at the room, Hilda waved to the guards and they stood aside. Turning to him, she nodded. “Good luck.”

“Thanks.”

Pushing the poor open, his eyes took a moment to adjust to the room, the only light source being the lines that had crept in from the gaps in the blinds.

Briggs was upright on the bed, as though she had been expecting somebody. A thick bandage was wound around her head, covering her eyes. She made no move when he closed the door.

“Greetings,” she said. “To whom am I speaking?”

“Briggs,” he replied, ignoring her second question.

“Oh, it’s the inspector,” she replied, amused. “Last I saw you looked pretty terrible. It’s a shame I can’t confirm that now.”

“I look better than you.”

“That’s a low bar.” Her teeth flashed as she grinned. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Alfendi couldn’t answer right away. He learned against the wall to steady himself. It was a reasonable question for her to ask. He knew he wasn’t here as an inspector of Scotland Yard – it had become much more personal than that.

Eventually, he knew what he wanted to say. “If I hadn’t come,” he began, “what would you have done?”

“Are you trying to prove to yourself that you were a hero?”

He ignored the dig. “I’m sure you want to tell me.”

“You’re right.” She paused. “When your cop awoke, I was going to question her. I was going to establish how much the police knew about our operations, by any means necessary. Regardless, Carter and I would have left the town in the same day, in case the search party stumbled across our base.”

“And what of Lucy?”

“That’s something I’ll keep to myself. I still have a trial, after all.” She smiled back at him, and though he knew she couldn’t see him, he felt as though he was being watched.

That told him all he needed to know, and she hadn’t had to admit to a single thing.

Calm down. She’s fine. She’s okay. Fendi was talking to himself more than Al.

“Speaking of which, you look cheerful for somebody who is blinded and facing trial,” he commented.

“It’s exactly because of that – I still have a trial,” she replied. “When you think of that, things are looking quite lovely for me. After all, I’m a suspect horrifically injured by a police officer. That same man committed arson, which I’m sure is against protocol.” She laughed. “A good lawyer can do a lot with that. With Carter gone, it’s the cops’ word against mine. Oh, the things the public will say about you!”

“There is far more evidence against you,” Al spat. “It won’t be that easy.”

“Won’t it?” she asked, her voice sing-song. “This event will ruin you. You’ll probably lose your job. You and that girl will never be the same after this.”

She wants you to be angry.

He knew that – both sides of him – but his fists balled, and he felt himself shaking. He longed to cause Briggs the same pain she’d caused him, but more importantly, the pain she’d caused-

Lucy.

I love you.

He remembered the moment they’d shared, she locked in the basement, he on the other side of the unbreakable door. His hand pushing against the metal, willing it to melt away as they both spoke assurances that things would be okay, even though their chances of success were slim.

Yet through trust and determination, they’d made it out of that basement and that blasted town. Despite being harmed, they would recover. Their position now was far better than he could have hoped or expected.

He took a step towards Briggs, Al allowing Fendi to come forward. “I’ve heard your version of the future. Now, listen to mine.” Fendi paused, studying her face. He knew he had her attention. “In no more than a few days, Lucy and I will leave hospital. We’ll take a few weeks off work – paid leave, thanks to you – and then we’ll return. We’ll re-enter our back-office, make a coffee and tackle whatever case is waiting for us. We’ll solve it, then another, then another. We will continue our careers, and our lives, together. We’ll meet other criminals, much more interesting than you, and while we won’t forget you, I doubt we’ll think of you often.”

He leaned in close, knowing she would be able to feel his presence.

“But you?” Al said, scoffing. “You’ll be handcuffed to this bed until you’re well enough to be moved to custody. When your trial comes around, you will receive a sentence so long that you’ll have wished your life had ended in that basement. Then you’ll go to prison, likely the worst we have in the country for the crimes you’ve committed, and the world will keep spinning without you.”

Briggs opened her mouth, her lips dry as she exhaled, before closing it.

His work was done, and he retreated. “Oh, and one more thing,” he said, poised by the door. “I wouldn’t be so sure about the lack of witnesses. Carter’s alive, and given Lucy and I saved his life, I’m sure he won’t mind putting in a word against you in the trial.”

He heard the beginning of a shriek as he closed the door behind him.

–

“Cathartic?” Hilda asked as he shuffled down the hallway, florescent lights flickering above them.

“Yes.”

“I’m impressed. I expected to hear much more yelling – that’s what the old you would have done.”

“I’m not the old me, and not only because of Fendi.”

“Lucy?”

He hesitated a second before nodding.

“You two suit one another,” she added. “She makes you a more tolerable person.”

He smirked. “And you didn’t?”

“No.” Her tone was amused. “I think part of me enjoyed our arguments too much. Lucy will actually scold you for being ridiculous.”

Talking about Lucy had lifted his spirits, but he felt a pang of longing.

They’d reached his room, and when he pushed the door open, his jaw dropped.

Lucy was sitting atop his bed.

His eyes took her in all at once. Her hair was damp and combed, and she wore a thick robe that seemed to engulf her. She was pale and exhausted, her eyes drooping. Her hand had been bandaged, but that was the only sign of injury.

At the sound of his entrance her head snapped up. She stared back at him, and her lips trembled. “A-Alfendi.”

He staggered towards her, still in disbelief as he pulled her into a hug. Ignoring his aching body, he took a moment to appreciate the warmth of her body against his, the smell of her hair, the sound of her breathing.

Hilda had been right. She was okay.

Releasing her slightly, he stared down at her face, and she smiled back up at him.

The door closed behind them as Hilda gave them some privacy.

Wordless, they sat atop his bed. Lucy’s hand cupped his cheek, her thumb brushing against his face. Her fingers ran over his stubble but stopped before she reached his ear. He watched as she studied it a moment, and despite himself, a spike of anxiety hit him, because he cared what she thought about it.

When she leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss upon his bandage, he released a sigh he didn’t know he’d been holding in.

When she drew back, she didn’t meet his eyes, and he knew why.

“It wasn’t your fault, Lucy,” he murmured.

She still didn’t look up. “I made a choice, and it got you hurt.”

“You made a choice, and got a criminal arrested,” he replied. “You fulfilled your duty. I also made a choice to come and find you.”

“You had to.”

“Of course, because I love you.”

“P-Prof…” Her eyes had filled with tears, and she shook her head. “I never wanted you t’get hurt. When you fell down the stairs, I didn’t think you’d make it out, a-and…”

As she choked on her works, he pulled her into his chest, resting his lips atop her head.

The ordeal had been harrowing. It had been excruciating for him to walk down the basement stairs and witness Briggs grabbing Lucy by her hair as she bled from her hand. How awful had it been for Lucy, to see him shot and pulled down the stairs, left fighting for his life?

“We’re both here, Lucy,” he reminded her. “Here and well. Briggs will go to prison, because of the evidence you found. In a few days we’ll both go home. In a few weeks my arm will be healed, and so will your hand, and not long after my ear will be as good as it can be. We’ll have some time off work. Perhaps we’ll go away somewhere – we’re both long overdue for a holiday.”

She sniffed, looking up. “Dropstone sounds nice, Prof. Your dad’s stories have made me want to go.”

“Then we’ll go to Dropstone.”

She grinned up at him. “So it takes a hospital visit to get you to agree to a holiday?”

He smiled. “Perhaps.”

She laughed, and holding his face gently, she kissed him. Her lips were warm and soft, and as he reciprocated, he realised how much he’d longed for her. Pulling her closer, the day’s turmoil faded. As one of her hands rubbed the back of his neck, he was lost in his senses, as though he hadn’t experienced Lucy in years.

“Ahem.”

Startled, he pulled back, Doctor Wells standing in the doorway. Lucy let out a surprised gasp, before a nervous giggle.

“You appear to be feeling better,” she commented, smiling.

Al chose that moment to relinquish all control, leaving an awkward Fendi behind. He scratched the back of his neck. “Ah, I’m-”

“Not to worry. It’s a good sign, really.” She turned her attention to Lucy. “Your test results have come back clean, Lucy. As long as you avoid using your hand for a few weeks and finish your round of antibiotics, you have nothing to worry about.”

“Ta, Doctor,” she replied, beaming.

“We’re happy to discharge you both tomorrow, as long as you’re feeling well enough. For the moment however, I’d recommend you get some more rest.”

He couldn’t help but agree. Now that he’d spoken with Briggs and seen that Lucy was alright, fatigue had begun to creep back into him.

Lucy appeared to be the same, as she stifled a yawn. Still, she fiddled with her hands, nervous. “Ee, Doctor?”

“Yes?” Doctor Wells replied, scribbling something on her chart.

“I… well, given I weren’t been monitored by any machines in my room, d’you think I might be able to stay here for the night?” Her faced reddened. “Just for sleeping, of course!”

“I see no reason why not. You might be able to stop him from wandering around the hospital.”

He liked Doctor Wells.

“Call a nurse if you need anything,” she continued. “I’ll let them know about your room change. I’ll be back tomorrow to check how you’re doing.”

“Thank you,” Alfendi said, nodding.

As she left the room and turned out the light, he and Lucy pulled the covers up. Lying on his side to ensure that his ear would not be affected, Lucy held him from behind, her head resting in the crook of his neck. Her rhythmic breathing relaxed him.

“Alfendi?” she whispered, as he was on the cusp of sleep.

“Mm?”

“Thank you.”

His hand fumbled to find her own, fingers loosely entwining.

“Always, Lucy. Always.”

A/N:An update after a month and a half, instead of a year and a half? It’s more likely than you think!

With this story nearing the end, I have a strong vision for it, so you can expect the next update soonish! I hope you enjoy :)

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–

He fell, but so did Briggs.

He couldn’t count the number of steps he hit on the way down, but when he skidded to a stop his body both begged him to remain still and screamed at him to move. With Briggs’ grip firmly on his collar, he scrambled to break free. As his fingers pried at the front of his sweater, through the panic he realised one certainty.

He’d dropped Carter’s gun in the fall.

With a grunt he broke free, scrambling forward. His right arm slammed against the ground to steady himself and pain shot through him, as though he’d been electrified. He brought it close to his face. Glass shards – the ones from the light Lucy had shattered – were embedded in his skin, beads of blood forming at the edges of each piece.

Taking advantage of his shock, fingernails dug into his wounded arm and dragged him backwards.

Warmth trickled down his neck, and the pain in his ear was growing, blurring his thoughts. Now that his body had stopped moving – rooted in the centre of the room – he didn’t know that he would be able to again. The darkness at the edges of his vision called for him to succumb to it.

Turning to meet Briggs’ eyes, she was shaken by the fall, but had the upper hand, not as beaten and bruised as he. He dared to look up at Lucy.

At the top of the stairs with Carter’s body at her feet, she stared at the scene below, stunned. In the next second, she placed her hands on the walls enclosing her, moving to come down.

“Don’t.” His voice came out weaker than he thought it would. “Lucy, go!”

She scrunched up her face. “Alfendi-”

“Please, Lucy, while you ca-”

“She’s not going anywhere,” Briggs gasped. She thrust her head up to Lucy, glaring. “Do you hear me? If you move a single step, I will kill him. I may not have my gun, but don’t for a second think I’m weak without it.”

Pushing the pieces of glass deeper as she dug in her nails, it took everything he had not to scream.

“Don’t listen to her, just-”

“Stop it, Alfendi!”

Lucy’s voice pierced the room. As he stared up at her, he saw something in her eyes, a silent plea beyond her words.

“I’m not leaving, not when there’s a gleamo’ hope that we’ll get out o’ here together, and we’ll look back at all of this and it’ll just be ‘nother case we solved together.”

She looked just beyond his head for a second, then locked eyes with him again, and he understood.

One final clue.

Turning to face Briggs, her hair was strewn across her face, eyes wide. Something gleamed behind her as it rested atop a pile of boxes, and both excitement and terror passed through him.

Had she forgotten about it, amongst all else?

“Okay?” Lucy asked. “Do you understand me?”

He gave the smallest nod he could.

“Please, l-let her go,” Alfendi begged, bringing his attention to Briggs. He needed to be desperate, and he knew he already was. “You can use me as a hostage, you don’t need two of us.”

“Don’t try to negotiate with me,” she spat.

“I’ve b-been with the Yard longer, I’m more valuable to you than she is. She can t-tell the police about how dangerous you are, and that they need to take your demands seriously. Having her vouch for you will be invaluable. S-Seeing what you’ve already done to her will make them take you seriously.”

She opened her mouth to snap back, but he watched her hesitate.

Just a bit more.

“I’ll co-operate with you. I’ll get away from the door, see?”

Aching, he began to move backwards.

“Keep on your knees,” she snarled, letting go of his arm.

“Okay, I can do that,” he said, edging towards the back of the room. Glass shards littered the floor.

She glanced up at Lucy. “And you better not move an inch, got it?”

Lucy nodded.

He kept eye contact with Briggs, but focused on the gleaming just behind her. He was close, nearly close enough to reach out and grab it. But Briggs was staring at him, and she was closer to it than he. With his slow body, he could not risk taking it now.

“B-Briggs.”

Her head snapped up, and for a second, so did his. Carter’s eyes were open, staring into nothing, face so pale that he might already have been dead.

It was his chance.

Alfendi lunged for Lucy’s gun and Briggs lunged for him. She was faster.

He slammed to his side, the wind knocked out of him. Pain was shooting up his arm, and when he tried to push himself upright, he found more glass by his hand. Forcing his head up to look at Briggs, she had spotted the gun. Her eyes widened.

Instinct.

She gripped the gun in the same moment he gripped the shards. Fighting through the pain as they dug into his palm, he threw them forward.

Recoiling, Briggs gasped, her hands covering her eyes. Silence lingered in the air for a second, until she began to scream, blood slipping through her fingers.

Groaning, he fought through his own pain, stumbling towards the gun. Clenching it, he stared at Briggs – still in anguish, no longer the threat she’d been mere seconds before – then turned towards the stairs.

Lucy was kneeling next to Carter, eyes closed. “W-We need t’go,” she murmured, barely audible.

His body moving out of his control, he took the first step upwards, then the next. The world spun.

Focus, Layton.

He drew closer to Lucy, swimming in and out of his vision. He used the wall to stabilise himself a moment before they nodded to one another.

“Don’t you dare leave!” Briggs shrieked. A barrage of threats followed, each more frantic than the last.

Wordless, they moved Carter across the doorway as carefully as they could – Alfendi holding his legs, Lucy his arms. When the door slammed behind them, Briggs’ screaming became distant, tucked away in the back of his pounding mind.

Lowering Carter to the ground, he and Lucy leaned against the door, exchanging a wary glance. He gave himself a few seconds of peace before duty made him move. With shaking footsteps he approached the exit, before he felt something clutch his leg.

“D-Don’t leave m-me,” Carter begged. “Please.”

“We won’t,” Lucy promised, and she looked at him with more kindness than Alfendi ever could, given Carter was the reason she’d been placed in harm’s way. “But we need t’get help.”

“It’s on the way,” Alfendi said, though his voice didn’t sound like his own. He continued to walk, Carter’s hand slipping away.

Reaching the door, he nudged it open. The wave of heat that pushed against him forced him to recoil. The fire had gotten closer, the flames licking at nearby buildings and blackening their exterior, but far away enough that they were not in immediate danger.

With that thought echoing in his mind, he crumpled to his feet, barely feeling the impact of the ground.

–

There was nothing for a minute, or an hour, or perhaps it was no time at all. Then, all of a sudden, there was everything.

“Alfendi!” Lucy’s hands held the sides of his face, her breathing laboured and ghosting against his skin.  “Prof, can y’hear me?”

“Lucy…” He reached out to grab hold of her wrist, but his body seemed too far away for him to know whether he had.

“Hang in there, okay?” Her voice was urgent, but he could feel that she was trying to keep calm. Pressure was applied to his ear, and he willed himself to concentrate, to see her. Slowly, she came into his vision. Face pale with injury and eyes blazing with determination, he’d never been as in love with her as he was in that moment

He tried to sit himself upright, but his body didn’t comply. With gentle hands, Lucy pushed him back down. “Rest up.”

“L-Lucy, I came here to help you,” he said, trying again.

“You’ve done that, Prof.” she murmured, smoothing his hair back. “Without you, I’d still be down there. And I were the one who got us into this mess t’begin with.” Casting her eyes downward, he could nonetheless spot the guilt in them. “Now you’rehurt, and that’s m’fault.”

“You didn’t choose for Carter to escape th-the raid, and you didn’t choose for your r-radio to stop working,” he replied, the words difficult to get out. “None of this is your fault. S-See this fire around us?”

“You did a right good job with it,” she said, a smile at the corner of her lips.

“It’s their entire drug e-empire burning down, and i-it’s because of you.”

She laughed, the sweetest sound he could have heard, and leaned down to kiss him. He could barely feel it, but knowing she was there was all he cared about.

Staying close to him, she was checking his arm when he felt her freeze.  “D’you hear that?” she breathed. “Sirens.”

Amongst the roaring of the fire he could: gently at first, but growing louder by the second.

In a matter of minutes, they were surrounded by medics and police officers, and Lucy was gone. He was given something for the pain, and the clarity he’d fought so hard to maintain faded. In his state, he observed the world rushing around him, like a dream where every thought was swallowed by the next.

His younger self may have been thrilled by the town ravaged by flames, a fitting end to the turbulent case. Perhaps a few years ago he’d have been delighted by the sight of Briggs being dragged from the house, blood running down her face and fated for a life of incarceration. Even seeing Carter – though he had ultimately helped them – with far worse injuries than his might have been satisfying.

But he’d always remember craning his head to see Lucy, her injuries being tended to at last, and how she was looking through the crowd to get a glimpse of him too, finally within each other’s sight.