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warrenposts · 1 year

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Protect You

Protect You (Lockwood x Sister!Reader)

Request: For @kenzs-world and Anon

Summary: Lockwood and his little sister are captured and tortured by Winkman

Warning: Graphic descriptions of torture, subtle mentions of suicidal tendencies (Come on, It’s Lockwood)

A/N: George and Reader are close. Could be read as romantic or platonic. Thank you for requesting! I had so much fun writing this! I plan on adding more Gifs later

Word Count: 4.2K

Requesting Information Masterlist

Lockwood was kicking himself, 'how the hell did he get into this situation? How the hell did he get you into this situation?' He knew the answer. It was simply because he jumped the gun and tried to bite off more than he could chew. It was stupid and chauvinistic and now you were paying the price for it.

The two of you sat across the room from one another, wrists and ankles bound to the chairs you sat in. Yours seemed more makeshift than his and he felt compelled to take a dig at them being unprepared for visitors but decided against it.

You hadn't woken up while Winkman interrogated Lockwood and it had started to worry him. After being questioned and electrocuted, he couldn't help but keep glancing over to check whether or not you were still breathing.

Winkman took notice of how distracted he was and wandered over to you. “Your colleague I presume?” he asked, toying with the straps around your wrist.

“Never seen her before in my life,” Lockwood claimed, hoping this would all be over before you woke up. Unfortunately, his prayers weren’t answered as Winkman started feeling around in your pockets, to which Lockwood quickly protested. “She’s just a trainee, she doesn’t know anything.”

“Oh, so she’s more than a colleague then," Winkman observed. “Is she a friend? She family?” He asked.

Lockwood tried desperately to keep his reactions to a minimum but he couldn't help the twinge in his jaw when Winkman ghosted his fingers over your hairline. “She’s no one, let her go.”

"Ohhhh,” He breathed, watching Lockwood intensely. “I see. Little sister following her big brother around town.”

“She doesn’t know anything,” he insisted.

“Now, that wouldn’t matter even if it were true,” he spat and took a knife from his back pocket. “You lot broke into my establishment and that’s just mighty disrespectful to me. You said you were alone. Lied right to my face” He pointed around with his knife and Lockwood followed the blade, afraid as to where it would land.

Winkman turned abruptly and slapped you hard across the face, waking you up. Lockwood winced in his seat but tried to keep his reactions subtle, not wanting to encourage the abuse.

When you came to, you immediately started yanking at the restraints that held your wrists to the chair, eyes wide with fear as you looked up to see your brother in the same position. You opened your mouth to call for him out of instinct but stopped when Lockwood started shouting.

“Don’t- AH!” He was cut off as Winkman turned on the electricity to his chair. You were confused and afraid but couldn’t bring yourself to think straight as he jerked and twitched in pain.

You started screaming, thrashing in your chair, “STOP IT! DON’T HURT HIM!” In all your aggression, the restraints started to loosen giving you more room to shake and struggle. It wasn't enough for you to escape, but enough for Winkman to notice and become furious at your attempts.

He slammed his hands down on either wrist, one hurting more than the other due to the knife in his palm. “Who are you and who told you to come here?” He shouted.

“We’re not here for you, you son of a bitch!” You shouted, debating how much it would hurt to slam your forehead into his. “Turn it off! You’re killing him!” You pleaded. You weren’t like your brother, you didn’t care if it made you sound weak, you’d beg until he wasn’t it anymore pain.

The electricity automatically stopped and Lockwood was forced to stay quiet to catch his breath.

“You see, now I’m hearing two different stories and that’s twice I’ve been lied to.” Winkman didn’t move from his spot as he leered over you; it was how you always imagined the bogeyman to look. “So, either you start talking or I’ll give you an end that makes me a new source to sell,” he threatened.

Anger boiled in your chest and you spat in his face in response. He immediately slapped you across the cheek, then punched you on the other side of your face with the blunt end of the knife, splitting your lip.

“OI!” Lockwood screamed, voice low and filled with a rage you very rarely heard.

Winkman paid him no attention as he aggressively lurched forward to grab you by the throat and press the knife into your cheek. He was so close; he practically had a knee up on the chair. He was so close you could feel his breath on the shell of your ear. “Don’t piss off the man who has you in chains,” he warned, spitting his words out in a low voice that was bound to haunt you for life. “Not when I’m the one who decides how many limbs you get to keep.”

As much as you hated to admit it, between the power he had and how unhinged he truly was, he absolutely terrified you. You involuntarily sunk into the chair, breath hitching with every inhale of air you tried to take to pretend you weren’t afraid.

“You lay a hand on her again and I’ll take it clean off!” Lockwood shouted, wrestling feverishly with his restraints. You’d never seen him so angry, he was spitting his words like fire with pure confidence in his everything he said.

Winkman didn’t break eye contact with you as he responded. “Is that right?” He swiped the knife across your arm, slicing through the skin. You jolted and grit your teeth as you bit back a groan, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of screaming.

“Leave her alone,” Lockwood all but begged. “You were right.”

“Oh?” He hummed, tracing the knife down your arm to your fingers, watching you twitch and jerk away instinctively.

“She’s not with an agency,” Lockwood lied. It was clear he was going to try his hand at negotiating. “She’s just my stupid little sister that followed us here, trying to play agent. She can’t help you.” Tears welled in your eyes. You knew what he was trying to do but it still hurt to hear, mainly because it wasn’t completely untrue.

Winkman paused, pulling the knife away. “Followed ‘us’ here?” He repeated, sending a chill down both of your spines.

“Well, that’s a start,” he sneered, cutting you again and you bit your tongue to try and keep quiet. He seemed annoyed that you didn't make a sound, so he kept going. Slicing over the same spot again and again and the fourth time you couldn’t help but grip the armrest and cry out. Lockwood called out to you but you barely registered his voice in your haze of pain. “Who else knows you’re here?”

“Y/n!” Lockwood yelled, still fighting in his restraints. “I’ll get you out of here, I swear it!”

“Some big brother,” Winkman let up and knelt down in front of you, putting the knife tip down onto your thigh and gently twirling it in his hand. You now had a clear line of sight to your brother. He looked awful but you couldn’t get your eyes to properly focus. Not with the tip of the knife slowly biting into your leg. “Ain’t he supposed to protect you?”

“Y/n, look at me,” Lockwood instructed. You recognized that he was holding back tears just by the tone of his voice. It was subtle, something only you would recognize, but it was there.

You didn’t reply, afraid that if you did, you would burst into tears and seem like the weak little girl he’d described you as. So instead, you kept your attention on the man in front of you, “Go fuck yourself.”

He whistled, “Such a mouth on you.” He dug the knife a little further into your leg and you whimpers escaped from your throat as you tried to breath. “If you’re just going to waste my time, I suppose you don’t need to be making so much noise now so ya.”

“Don’t,” Lockwood breathed, growing increasingly more frustrated with how little Winkman would acknowledge him. He just needed to get his attention away from you while he thought of a plan.

“You know, there’s a bone in your throat,” Winkman began, standing up and yanking your head back by your hair. “Once it’s removed, your jaw just won’t function. Makes you mute,” his voice fell to an eerie whisper as he traced the knife back and forth across your throat. “And it takes almost nothin’ to remove. You can live a long life, droolin’, broken and silent.”

More tears pooled in your eyes, blinding you as your bottom lip trembled. The rest of your body was still as a statue, afraid to make any movement at all. The only sound you made was a sob that you couldn’t hold back.

He let go of your hair and your head dropped to your chest, tears falling down your cheeks like an open damn as you caught your breath. “But you’re not leaving, are you?” He taunted “Might as well just take your tongue.”

“ENOUGH!” Lockwood screamed, causing you to flinch in your seat. “SHE CAN’T HELP YOU AND SHE DOESN’T KNOW ANYTHING SO YOU STOP TORMENTING HER.”

“YOU WATCH YOUR MOUTH, BOY!” He screamed and radiated anger from the way he was being spoken to. Without giving you a second to flinch, Winkman bent down and drove the knife sideways into your calf.

You screamed out in pain, a blood curdling noise that made Lockwood wince. It broke his heart to see you in such a state and knowing that he put you there didn’t make it easier to stomach.

“Fine! Fine! I'll tell you everything,” he caved, still fighting against his restraints but hoping that the negotiation route would give him some sort of advantage. “You're right. No one will be surprised if I turn up dead, they've all been waiting for it. So put me out of my misery, by all means, but just let her go. She's got everything to live for, and she will not breathe a word of this, I swear.”

“Anthony,” you cried, an involuntary sob falling from your lips as you called out for your brother. You weren’t even aware you did it but it put a dagger straight through Lockwood’s heart. He’d never felt so useless in his life.

Winkman crossed the room to meet his wife on the other side and dropped his knife down onto the table aggressively. They began muttering to each other but quickly diverted their attention as the doors slammed open. Lucy burst into the room, brandishing her Rapier in one hand and holding a cage in the air. You heard her screaming something about dropping it if they came any closer but you were slipping out of consciousness.

You snapped back into reality as you smelled gasoline and saw Lucy dowsing them and the room with it before setting down the cage and holding up a lighter.

Again, everything went black until you felt someone grab your wrist. They were fast and rough with their actions and you fought them until you looked up to see the person you trusted the most. "Now's not the time for napping," He said, tugging you out of the chair and into his arms.

Winkman called after you, "I'm coming for you, boy. I'm gonna gut you! I'm gonna mince you and I'm gonna tear your skin off!" He screamed. "Your little sister's gonna lose an eye! I'm gonna count to ten! One! Two! AHHHHH!"

The three of you ran as fast as your injured leg could take you before you finally gave in and collapsed about two streets over. "Hold on, hold on. Please, I just need a minute," you pleaded, dropping all your body weight onto a nearby wall.

“Y/n, talk to me,” Lockwood begged, grabbing your face to force you to look at him. “Tell me you’re okay,” he begged.

“You shouldn’t have yelled at him like that,” You breathed, grabbing his wrist while your injured arm stayed cradled at your chest. “That was really stupid.”

“That’s rich coming from the girl who spat in his face,” he smirked. It was fake, you could tell. He was doing what he always did when you were hurt; putting on a show to make you feel better.

Lucy interjected, “This is not the time for you to start bickering,” She scolded and turned to Lockwood.

The two of them backed off for a moment, which was perfect. Truth be told, you wanted a minute to privately break down a little.

“What is going on with you?" Lucy asked, putting all her attention onto Lockwood. "I’ve never seen you like that before. That was so dangerous and you had no regard for your own safety-”

“Please, can we do this another time?” He asked and changed the topic. "Did you see where it was?”

Lucy bent down, deciding that your break was over and draped one of your arms over her shoulders to help you back up. “Locked up,” She replied. “They’ve probably move it now their cover's been blown.”

“George,” you groaned in your half-conscious state, interrupting them before they started arguing like an old married couple.

“What?” The asked, turning their attention to you.

“Oh shit!” Lucy exclaimed. “Carver has your note and George is home alone.”

Lockwood assisted Lucy on your other side. "We need to-"

"No hospitals," you interrupted. "Take me home, we need to get to George."

The three of you burst through the door where George was waiting. “Where were you? It's- What the hell happened?” He shouted and ran to the sitting room where he pulled out the couch to give them more space to set you down.

You groaned as they did and tried your best to bite back any noise but as the adrenalin wore off it became harder and harder to mask your pain. George tucked his arms under your legs to shift you down the couch, unaware of the stab would in your leg.

You cried out the moment he touched you and he yanked his hand away, horrified at the blood that transferred onto his hand.

Lockwood flinched hard and his face drained of any emotion. He stood quickly and ran off into the kitchen, subconsciously gripping his chest.

George called out but he was in a trances and Lucy ran after him. When she met him in the kitchen he was rummaging through cupboards and draws, not caring what he knocked out of the way. Even after he had the first aid kit in his hand, he kept slamming doors and knocking things around before he slammed his fist down onto the counter and started hyperventilating.

"LOCKWOOD!" Lucy called out and forced him to face her, grabbing his head in her hands. She couldn't get another word out before he started rushing out his works

“I can't do this, Luce," he breathed. "She means too much to me, I can't!"

“Hey, hey, look at me," she coaxed. "She’s tougher than all of us, we'll fix her up and she'll be alright.”

“How can I ever look her in the eyes again?" He asked, eyes swirling with anger, shame and pity. "What do I say to her after this? That I’ll keep her safe? Never let her get hurt?” He asked.

Lucy tried to fight back the tears at his words but it was hard seeing him so broken.

"Look at me, I don't have a scratch," he claimed. "They way he looked at me when he realized she was my sister, I shouldn’t have put that target on her back," he choked.

She hated to be harsh but time was of the essence and she couldn't stand to let you suffer the way you were just one room over. "Lockwood, believe me I understand but she needs you now. We'll talk about this later but-" She stopped as she heard you start screaming through the wall.

“George stop!” You demanded, trying your best to pull his hands away. He had grabbed a towel and was putting pressure on your leg. You felt vulnerable and couldn’t get Winkman’s words out of your head. It was like being on the verge of a shiver that never came but instead haunted your spine.

George had let go of your hand the moment you asked but you ignored the fact and kept begging. “Please don’t touch me, just us me go.”

“Y/n, it’s alright,” he tried to coax. For the first time in his life, he wanted nothing but to reach out and touch.

“Let us go, let us go, let us go.” You choked and hiccupped.

At the sound of your distress, Lockwood and Lucy burst into the room. Lucy spoke first, "We need to patch her up."

“We can’t," Lockwood protested. "Not while she's like this.”

“She's right," George interjected. "Better now than when she's coherent and aware of it,” he reasoned. He had a point but it still made them all feel sick.

They knelt down beside you and unpacked the first aid kit. Lockwood grabbed your hand and stared shushing you as he stroked a thumb over your hairline. "You're gonna be okay, just let us help," he whispered. "I know it hurts, we're almost done."

Lucy and George began dabbing your wounds with alcohol, both wordlessly agreeing that they wouldn't ask Lockwood to help. You stopped fighting but were still crying and hyperventilating as you sobbed, twitching at every touch. George tried to ignore it, pretending that it didn’t bother him and kept wrapping the wound on your arm.

Lucy had finished the plaster on your leg and glanced up to see Lockwood almost frozen. He had stopped talking to you and was just staring at the blood on your clothes.

A silence fell over the room as you stopped audibly crying, but then in a small, instinctive whisper, you cried, “Anthony?”

George immediately stood and stepped off to the side. He yanked off his glasses and rubbed his eyes, refusing to look in your direction. The two remaining realized they'd never actually seen him cry before. Neither one was going to judge him if that was what broke him. You sounded so afraid and so helpless.

Lucy saw how badly this was affecting the boys and as much as it bothered her, she summoned the strength to help. She felt herself breaking at the sight of you but told herself that this wasn't like Norrie. No, this time there was something she could do. She could help you so she decided to pick up the baton began applying the medical tape on her own.

You grimaced in pain and let out a strained, “ow.” It sounded more coherent than anything else you’d said in the last hour.

But after hearing you sniffle and speak consciously, the two boys snapped their attention towards you and took residence by your side. You calmed down as the wounds finished being bandaged, as did everyone else.

Once they could guarantee you were safe from infection and aware of your surroundings, they finally let you sit up. Lockwood stayed with you on the couch, wary of your wounds and the others fled to the kitchen with the excuse they were making tea.

After about 20 minutes of silence, you looked over to your brother. "I think I scared them off," you joked, quietly as your throat had been screamed raw. You were still weak but you found the strength to talk.

Lockwood ignored you. "I'm sorry," he caved, staring deeply into your eyes. It hurt to see him so sad. You knew how much he had going on in his head, this didn't help.

“How could we ever have prepared for anything like that?” You asked in a soft spoken volume. “It’s not your job to protect me,” you told him.

“That’s exactly my job," he objected and faced away from you. "I'm just rubbish at it.”

It took you a minute to process what he had said but once you did, you were almost mad. “Do you remember when the neighborhood boys were bullying me and you beat them up? Or how you wouldn't let Uncle scare me on Halloween? Or when you held my hands when I got my ears pierced?" You asked, drawing his attention back to you. "You checked under my bed for monsters every time I asked, no matter the time of night and you never complained. You’ve protected me my entire life.”

He faltered for a minute then moved to readjust your blanket. “That’s sweet, but you could have died today," he replied. "And I was completely useless.”

“That’s why we have a team," you pushed, grabbing his arm to make him focus. "That's why we fought to keep Lucy and that's why George is right across the landing.”

“Because I can't cut it?” he let himself have a moment of pity and at the very least, you were glad he was confiding in you.

“Because we’ve been alone long enough. There’s only so much we can handle and we can’t always watch each other’s back," you corrected. "That’s why we made a family.”

He didn't reply for a minute, he just stared and bit back the tears that threatened to fall from his eyes. “That's beautiful," he choked then punched your shoulder lightly, far more lightly than usual. "You should get that on a fridge magnet.”

"Oh piss off," you shook your head, dropping the attempt to comfort him. He'd taken all the comfort he could take then built the walls right back up. It was okay, you knew he took it to heart.

“Maybe next time, you don’t come after me?” he suggested, scooting closer to carefully pull you into a hug.

“Hmmmm, not a chance, you’re my big brother.” You replied, leaning in to his side. “But if you really want, next time I'll call Kipps to help before you do something stupid.”

“Don't get cheeky,” he warned and pressed a kiss on the top of your head.

“Don't threaten me! You have to be sooooo nice to me this week,” you laughed, nudging into his side before wincing at the movement.

"Careful-" He started before you cut him off abruptly.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, I get it." You dismissed. "And hey, speaking of next time. Maybe let George in the loop so the previously mentioned family can function properly?"

He laughed and leaned his head into yours. "Yes, well. That's something to consider," he mumbled, thinking about all the times Lucy had offered an ear.

You noticed him blushing but chose to ignore it for the sake of his dignity, fully well knowing what was running through his mind.

Your mind started to drift as you looked up to him and lost yourself, replaying the events of the day in your head You thought about how unfamiliar he looked when he was angry and afraid. You never expected to see him like that or hear him speak the way he did. "What is it?" He asked and you flinched slightly, snapping back into reality.

"Nothing," you mumbled, looking away. You were sure you'd just make him feel bad by talking about it.

"Oh, I just thought someone was going on about family and supporting each other, so I thought you'd maybe consider talking to me," he rambled. "But if that doesn't apply to you-"

"Shut up, I get it." You caved, but didn't immediately reply. You had to think of the right was to ask what was on your mind. "You didn't mean what you said right?" You sheepishly asked. "About me playing agent?"

His heart dropped into his stomach. At first he wanted to make a joke about how he meant every word, but after seeing the insecurity in your eyes, he just couldn't. For the first time in your life you looked unsure of yourself. Unsure of your place in Lockwood's world and that was just something he couldn't abide by. "Not for a second," he promised. "I wouldn't be alive today if it weren't for you, I mean that. Do you understand?"

You did understand, just not in the way he'd meant. But for your sake, he'd never clarify.

"I'd certainly have a lot more scars," he joked, but you didn't smile which confused him. He looked over and saw you staring down at your bandaged leg. "Oh," he understood.

"It's gonna look ugly," you mumbled, nuzzling further into your brother.

"You don't really believe that," he tested, you always thought scars looked cool.

You shrugged, "I don't know, maybe. No skirts for a while, I think."

Lockwood opened his mouth to protest but slammed it shut when he heard an aggressive knock at the door. You both flinched, hard. George and Lucy came running into the room.

"Do you think it's Carver?"

"Stay here," Lockwood ordered and gently steadied you on the couch.

"Let me help," you whispered, moving to stand up but was promptly stopped by the three of them.

Lockwood looked at you and clearly repeated, "Not a chance. Stay here." Then they all ran to the door, ready to deal with the threat.

It took you a while but eventually you made your way to the arch. You leaned for support as you peered at the dead body that had fallen into the floor. Lockwood glance up to you and shook his head solemnly, wondering is he'd ever actually be able to protect you.

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