Seconds turned to minutes. Minutes turned to hours. And I still didn't run out of tears.

George stayed beside me for at least 2.3 hours... Talking to me about going back. Told me to at least try home again.

George no...' I said, George kept wiping my eyes with his sleeve, I faced people reading as his normal heart beated in my ears.

'Lucy... Have you seen yourself? Your practically on the brink of death!' George said. His voice hadn't changed from the soft, gentle voice.

'If I die I die,' I struggle, every now and again my voice cuts off, it still wasn't recovered but I could at least speak, 'I really don't care anymore...'

I could tell George gave up on me. He picked me up and lied me on the floor gently, stood up, sorted his jacket out and started to walk to the door.

The most 'living' company I've had in ages was walking away. The floor is covered in dust which makes me weakly cough.

More and more coughing, not stopping.

I dragged my body to the front door, none stop coughing. The dust burned my eyes and throat, making it croaky. Thick layers of the stuff attached itself to my hair.

George stared at me as I slowly went back out into the street, my heart was going slower from the effort.

I collapsed onto the floor as I curled myself up in a box with a torn up blanket. The backpack, which I managed to drag with me, I placed next to me with the skull visible next to my head.

Your so stupid woman... You could have money. But no.

The mist looked at me stupidly, then it changed.

Changed to a face you'd never thought you'd see it make. Even I was surprised.

Worriness. It's weird face was pressed to the glass, I gently put my hand on the side of the jar.

'If I die,' more coughing, luckily I turned my head away, 'could you try and tell George or someone... I miss them?'

Silence. The plasm was fading. I sighed and hugged my only company now.

I closed my eyes slowly, smell of doughnuts filled my nose.

A gentle hand ran its fingers through my hand, then footsteps was heard walking away.

I opened my eyes to see my favourite chocolate doughnuts next to me a note on one doughnut said, 'Here you go... I'm sorry... G'

A tiny smile spread across my face. I'm planning to eat those later.

My heart slows to a few beats a minuet. I gently snuggle myself up in the so called 'blanket', then I drifted off into a sleep full of pain.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Since I left the agency, every night I had the same exact nightmare with little tweaks to make me still shake.

It went something like this...

A cold shiver goes past my attic room, back in Lockwood & Co. The place is trashed. Clothes have been ripped and torn, bed is cut at the bottom and the stuffing with the springs are taken out. Springs were bent so they are sharp and straight. Skull had broken to pieces with the skull cracked. No moonlight shined through my window like it always used to.

My door wouldn't open, my windows were bared up so it was no use to brake them. Tears were streaming down my eyes (it's in 3rd person the nightmare), I kept banging my fists on the door and walls, screaming at the top of my aching lungs.

'LET ME OUT!' I screamed. I looked like what I did before I lived on the streets, a little round stomach which I missed, my slightly bigger chest. But it also wasn't me...

The eyes were pure black like a Visitors. My body looked transparent, work clothes were cut at the arms and legs from razor cuts. On my arm I cut lines like a tally with the sharp springs.

'SAVE ME!' I screamed while I cut myself. Blood pored down my arm and bled everywhere. I put my arm to my lips and licked the blood, letting the sweet but bitter taste fill my mouth.

Then I started to laugh. Laugh like a full on maniac.

'SEE WHAT YOU DID TO ME, LOCKWOOD!' I shouted.

Stupidly, Lockwood came into the room. My real self, not the dream, always shouted at him to get out. George came rushing in and gasped at the dream me.

'L-Lucy...' Lockwood said quietly, my body type turned to a poltergeist and I shut the door, locking it with the emotions from my teammates.

In the dream, I'm not dead. I'm undead. The most powerful Visitor, changing types, salt and iron did nothing to me. I can live in both worlds, a Type 4. But like I said, I wasn't dead.

The first time I had the nightmare I was given a backstory of who I was... A zombie or something like that...

'Lockwood you messed it up!' The blonde said sacredly.

I cut my arm slowly with the razor humming weirdly. I did the same to my other arm and I cover my fingers with my blood.

'L-Lucy?' Lockwood asked edging closer, I always screamed no at him.

Every night deaths were different to both of them.

Tonight was being slowly skinned by the razor. I won't go into much detail since I hate recalling this part...

But after my dream self was done skinning them ALIVE, I was forced to watch them eat the skinless bodies. Slowly taring them apart, at the beginning they are always alive.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I woke straight up panting. Not sitting up though since I'm too weak for that.

It's weird, so very quiet, almost as if...

Then it hit me. I wasn't in the streets. But on a nice comfy couch with a pillow under my head and blanket over me. The skull was on a little desk in front of me.

I felt like I knew this place... But I didn't...

I really thought it was Lockwood's house. But no... It wasn't the living room at least...

I manage to look around, a guy with pure black hair was sat on the couch that looked a lot like our guest seat. His clothes were like ones on a emo or goth, eyes a horrid grey.

'Finally awake...' He said. His voice was very deep but scary. He stood up and started walking to me...

I stayed still worried out of my mind. A hard fist punched the right side of my chest hard which made me weakly cry out in pain.

Then the other side. Again. And again.

'YOU IDIOT!' He yelled at me angrily, still proceeded to punch the day lights out of me.

I screamed as loud as I could, it wasn't very loud.

A razor cut me deep in the arm, making it bleed.

'You shouldn't be alive!' He screamed, I started to lose too much blood as he cut through a bunch of veins on both arms.

'Pl...ease... Stop...' I weakly said panting slightly heavily.

'FRITZ!' I heard, it came from behind me.

'More blood. More. More. More!' His voice kept repeating that word quicker and quicker. He started to lick the poring waterfall of blood from my arms.

'So sweet. A nice feeling to my tongue.' My body started to shake more. I curled up in a ball to start weakly crying.

'No more... Please... Stop it...' I weakly said as I started to get lightheaded.

Suddenly, a black figure came in and stabbed him with, what looked like, a rapier. The figure fought him outside where I bet he died. If I could think...

A girl, I bet from the body shape, bandaged up my wounds while the figure from before walked to me.

'You was right... Look at her...' The tall one said, I tried making myself look like I was dead... I was so scared of what they was talking about...

'How does she look?' A smaller chubby figure said, these voices...

I know them...

Oh god...

'She'll live...' The girl said. Then a lamp is switched on.

There in front of me was a girl with perfect dark skin, perfect hair, teeth, eyes everything.

To my right is a tall, pale teen boy with dark hair and eyes. Hair floppy and arms naturally skinny yet still muscular.

Also, to my left is a boy I met not long ago.

Anthony Lockwood, George Cubbins and Holly Munro.

'No... I shouldn't be here!' I said as I tried to get off the couch, but Lockwood pinned me down gently. His dark eyes looked into mine, filled with happiness get worriedness. He slowly sat me up and hugged me, firm yet gentle.

In my ear, he softly whispered, 'Welcome home, Lucy Carlyle.'