22. The Calm(1)

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I'm so, so sorry, blablabla, life has been a b****, blablabla, you know how it is. I mean, by now I can only apologize and ask for you to understand my situation. I'd like to thank all of you guys who have sent me messages this whole time, your support is what helps me go through this tough times and find my inner potential to unlock the Ultra Instinct to keep figh- I mean, writing.

Take a shower, get yourself comfortable in bed, grab a can of your favorite drink and get ready, because this will be the longest chapter so far. Many of you were asking for a certain character to appear, and he'll be here in this cap. Some will ask, "Hero, should I get some tissues ready, too?". My answer would be "No", but readers from the Spanish fandom have told me that they've cried with this chapter. I mean, this is pretty personal, maybe some scenes might have a big impact con some of you and you'll get a feels punch on the face, but the idea of this chapter is to aim at heartwarming moments. Scenes of characters helping other characters. Moments between Lincoln and some of his sisters (the rest will have their scenes on the remaining chapters). Given the nature of the story, the characters are sad, but I won't put the focus there.

Speaking of the remaining chapters, did I mention the end is just around the corner?

So yeah, if you have like an hour or so free, just sit down and enjoy the chapter in one go. Some people recommend splitting the reading, but I personally love long chapters (no sh*t Sherlock) because I think it gives you enough time to get invested and immersed in the story. My advice, then, would be to wait until you have that little free time to treat yourself with a reading session. I hope you enjoy this little thing I wrote with a lot of love, sweat and blood for you.

By the way, this chapter has reference to several new episodes, including Net Gains. So I hope you're catching up TLH on Friday's at 6/5c, ha.

Disclaimer. The Loud House is the property of Viacom, Nickelodeon, and their rightful owners.

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Chapter 22:The calm.

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"Requiem! Requiem!"

"I can't."

"Come on! It's been forever since last time!"

"I'm saving it for the right moment. The situation needs to call for it, all conditions need to be set so by the time I release it the impact is bigger and-"

"They're surrounding you! You need to do it!"

"Listen to him, do it!"

"It's not ready yet!"

"DO IT!"

Giving up to his audience's pressure, Lincoln activated his magic immunity item to prevent enemies from stop his channeling and pressed the hotkey to his hero's ultimate skill. A few seconds later, having gathered the spirits of the fallen warriors, Shadow Fiend finally channeled his Requiem of Souls technique, creating an explosion that covered most of the computer screen and instantly annihilated three out of the five enemy heroes, severely hurting the rest. Clyde and Ronnie Anne jumped and cheered up, excited about the turn of events, and their joy only increased when the rest of Lincoln's team hunted down the fleeing enemies, killing them all and paving down the path to victory, which was achieved quite promptly after that.

As the computer announced "TRIPLE KILL!" and both his best friend and his girlfriend rejoiced in congratulations for themselves, telling him that it was only thanks to their advice that he had practically won the game, Lincoln smiled. If he had waited for the right time, the impact would've probably been greater. He would've gotten better reactions from his audience and a bigger satisfaction for his own work, but maybe, just maybe, he shouldn't wait for the very best moment, but instead do things while he could.

Time, after all, was something he couldn't allow himself to waste.

The last couple of hours had been absolutely incredible. His sisters, his girlfriend and himself had played several board games over and over again. Lynn won almost every single one of them, as usual, but she formed a powerful alliance with Lincoln and Lana when Lisa brought The Settlers of Cat-Land, and the three of them celebrated an overwhelming victory in that opportunity. Being able to sit down and enjoy some quality time with his loved ones was a little pleasure that every day became more and more important for the once white-haired boy. They had all laughed throughout the games, joking and playfully teasing each other, and it was only in very few occasions that one of his sisters had to excuse herself to disappear into the bathroom for ten minutes, only to return with red, puffy eyes.

After a couple of hours, when school had ended, Lincoln texted Clyde, inviting him to join them in their fun. Five minutes later, the McBride's red SUV was parking in the driveway and his best friend was knocking on his door, ready to play with them. Clyde was so excited for being there that he didn't even pass out when Lori accidentally touched his hand during a card game; he just remained petrified, staring at the Void for five minutes without reacting to external stimuli.

It was three in the afternoon when Leni suggested to her sisters that Lincoln would probably want to spend some alone time with Ronnie Anne.

"T-That's not true!" He had complained, his cheeks the same shade of pink of Lola's dress.

"Let's stay for a little longer!" Lana pleaded, clinging to her big brother's arm.

"B-But…", Leni stammered, arching her eyebrows and biting her lower lip. "It's just… He… I…"

Lincoln gave him a curious look. Leni looked odd. Now that he began to think about it, she had been acting strange for a couple of hours. She always took things lightly, getting easily distracted and acting clumsily. It wasn't unusual for her to not be totally invested in a board game, to miss that it was her turn to toss the dice, or that she would forget the rules of whatever they were playing for the fifth time in twenty minutes. There was nothing unusual in that. What caught Lincoln's attention, though, was his sister's lost look, sitting with her knees against her chest, looking through the window. What had she been thinking about?

She obviously wanted something but she didn't want to share what it was, or maybe she couldn't find the best way to explain herself. Her adorable dubitation to finish her sentence was a clear signal that Lincoln, always observant and insightful, immediately recognized. Lori also seemed to notice it, of course. If there was someone in that house that knew his sisters better than him, that was undoubtedly Lori. The eldest sister looked at Leni, and the talented modiste gave her a knowing look that Lincoln couldn't decipher.

"I think Leni's right", Lori said after a few seconds, earning a relieved sigh and a warm smile from her roommate, "why don't we let Lincoln and his friends have some fun on their own?"

The twins and Luan argued against it as Lincoln scrutinized his two eldest sisters. What were they trying to do?

"Come on, girls, Linky has a girlfriend now. Let's not make it even more awkward for them."

"But if we go they'll start smooching and I want to see it!" Lola complained, stomping the floor.

"Lola!" Both Lincoln and Ronnie Anne exclaimed, their faces beyond the pinkish tone of a soft blush, tinted now with a glowing scarlet that put Lynn's jersey to shame.

Lori stood up and started to put away the last board game with a lukewarm smile.

"Lincoln, it's been, uh… a long time since you've just hung out with your friends", she said in the calmest, most tender tone she could, while also avoiding to look at him in the eye. "You can just go with them and be you for a while. But only a while, ok?"

"Yeah, bro", Luna intervened, flashing him a smile that could be seen on her lips, but that didn't spread to the rest of her face. "Don't think you'll get away from us so easily."

Lincoln looked around the room. Ronnie Anne and Clyde looked fairly excited at the idea of being able to spend time with their friend in a more private, intimate environment. Lori was staring at Leni, who was suddenly very interested in her bedroom carpet. Luna was still looking at him with a warm smile and sad eyes. Luan was pressing her knees against her chest, unamused at the prospect of Lincoln leaving, but without making a fuss about it. Lynn didn't object either, but her arms crossed over her chest and her squeezed lips were all he needed to see to know how she felt. Leaned against her shoulder was, oddly enough, Lucy. She had barely spoken a single word in the whole afternoon, and now she didn't even seem to be worried about sharing warmth with another mortal. Lola and Lana were the only ones that didn't mind showing and being vocal about their disagreement.

Both girls turned around to look at their big brother with puppy eyes. The twins had always been one of Lincoln's few weaknesses/soft points, along with Viper in Dota 2 and warm waffles with caramel on top. It was like Lana and Lola's eyes were just too expressive, perhaps because of how big they looked on their small faces. His heart ached when he saw them begging him with their eyes for him to stay with them.

Honestly, he didn't have any reason to go. He was having fun with his siblings! He wanted to stay there, to keep it that way. He wasn't fond of the idea of his two eldest sisters suggesting that they should end the family moment, but he assumed there had to be a reason for that. He looked back at Luna and her dropped shoulders. He looked at Luan, who still had swollen eyes from her last visit to the bathroom. Could it be that they all needed a rest… from him? He knew that it was hard for them to be around him, to enjoy his presence without thinking about how little time he had left, but it was the same for him, and Lincoln still managed to be strong enough to actively avoid thinking that all the fun he had wouldn't change the fact that he was dying. Couldn't they do the same? Couldn't they hold their sadness for just a couple of hours? Couldn't they do it for him?

He didn't realize how hard he was clenching his fists until a hand softly landed on top of his, gently stroking his wrist. He turned his head and he found Ronnie Anne's eyes staring at him. She looked worried, doing her best to give him a tiny, shy smile. He remembered his outbursts towards her girlfriend earlier that morning. He didn't want to blow up on his sisters. They didn't deserve that.

He turned once again, this time looking at the twins, and he gave them the brightest smile the circumstances allowed him to have.

"Hey, I'll go to play with Ronnie Anne and Clyde for a little while", he told them, resting a hand on each of their shoulders, "but I'll be back soon, alright? I promise."

The two of them dropped their heads and stared at the floor. They didn't look happy. The man with the plan had to come up with something.

"And if you guys let me, maybe later today we three can play something. Just you guys and me. What do you say?"

It was impossible for them to conceal the smile that appeared on their faces. The looked up -their heads still looking down, though- and bobbed their heads in agreement. Once again, Lincoln was proud of himself. He might not be the smartest kid in school, and he wasn't cool or fashionable, but he knew his sisters. If the ability to make them smile when they needed it the most was the only thing he would take to his grave, that was more than enough.

"Alright, let's go, guys", he said to his two best friends.

The three of them stood up and, after some brief goodbyes and see ya laters, they left the room and walked into the hallway. They barely made it past the stairs when they heard a door opening up and some footsteps getting closer.

"Hey, Ronnie Anne."

They turned around, not without certain anxiety, at the sound of Lynn's voice. There she was, standing with her hands behind her back, her head turned slightly in another direction, her lips pursed as she balanced her body from her heels to the tip of her toes. The Santiago girl looked at her boyfriend, who raised his hands and took a step back, taking the clever and coward decision of staying the hell out of whatever was about to happen. She buffed and glared at him before stepping forward to face Lynn.

She just hoped that things wouldn't escalate again. It had taken her several days to fully recover from the beatdown she had received, and now Lynn wasn't handicapped with a wristband, so she'd have both hands to punch her this time.

"Yeah?" She asked, hiding her hands inside her hoodie's pockets.

The athlete Loud looked up at the ceiling, still not looking at her brother's girlfriend in the eye.

"Listen, I..." She began, scratching her head. "I-I'm sorry, alright?"

Ronnie Anne and the two boys behind her opened their eyes in surprise. Lynn was biting her lower lip, and even though Ronnie Anne's first impression was that the girl didn't want to apologize and she was just being forced to, she soon realized it was something else that made her act that way. Shame.

"I shouldn't have treated you like that", she continued, "I was… it's just..."

"Lynn, I, uh, I get it", she interrupted her, beginning to smile. "Don't worry, I forgive you. You were trying to protect Lincoln, and I hadn't been treating him nice. I deserved being pummeled."

Lynn finally looked up to see her face, and they both smiled at each other at the same time.

"You really know how to fight", Ronnie Anne continued.

"You're not bad yourself", Lynn told her, touching her chin, "you have a sick right hook."

"But you shrugged it off and finished me with two punches, that was pretty rad."

They both begin to laugh, and every trail of tension that remained soon dissipated.

"So, we're cool?" Ronnie Anne asked, drawing a hand out of her hoodie and offering it to Lynn.

"Welcome to the family", Lynn answered, shaking hands with her brand new sister in law, and they both smiled at each other until a new voice distracted them.

"You should seal your new friendship with a hug", Lincoln suggested with an impish smile a few steps behind his girlfriend.

"Shut up, lame-o", both girls said at the same time. Clyde chuckled and Lincoln dramatically raised a hand to his face.

"Oh, God, what have I done? Now I have the two toughest, coolest girls I know teamed up against me."

Everyone in the hall laughed, but Lincoln didn't know how spot-on his words were until his girlfriend and sister shared a quick look, mischievously smiled, and a second later each one of them had grabbed Lincoln from a shoulder before pulling him into a triple hug. He couldn't help but smile, and he allowed himself to get lost for a while in all the love two of the most important girls in his life were drowning him on. He had always imagined that Lynn and Ronnie Anne would get along well. They shared interests and passions, and he really hoped this could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship between them.

The embrace eventually ended. Lincoln was bold enough to leave his arm around Ronnie Anne's waist, and his girlfriend didn't complain. Lynn wished them to have fun –"But not too much fun! We have paper thin walls here!"– and she then walked back into Lori's room, allowing Clyde, Lincoln and Ronnie Anne to finally go to the once linen closet at the end of the hall, where they would play for a while.

After the game that Lincoln won, it was Clyde's turn to play. He sat in front of the desk and started to search for a local host to join, chatting with some members of his party in the meantime. Lincoln walked to his bed and sat next to Ronnie Anne. His instinct made him leave a space between them, like he had always done, but she buffed and moved closer until their shoulders touched. He smiled and let his body lean against hers.

The morning hadn't started all that well. Seeing Lisa's eyebags during his morning check, his mother almost breaking down as they wrote a new chapter in their book –it had been too much for her to listen to him talking about his role as a big brother in a chapter that he had decided to title "Baby Steps"–, and all the drama his delicate emotional state had caused at Ronnie Anne's house… Yeah, that was definitely not what one would call a good start. Little by little, though, things had started to improve. He now had a girlfriend. They had kissed a lot. Big time. He spent some amazing hours with his family and friends. Lynn and Ronnie Anne had worked out their differences. Everything seemed to be working out just fine.

Of course, that could only mean that the Universe was conspiring to make sure that his life would be miserable once again. Soon. And it all started with the most trivial and simple of questions.

"Hey, Lincoln, why don't you bring some juice?" Ronnie Anne asked.

"Make it orange juice, please!" Clyde asked, just before yelling at the microphone. "The Tower! Forget the creeps, hit the Tower!"

Lincoln, of course, wouldn't deny a glass of juice to his guests. His coin collection and his host skills had always been something he had been proud of. Clyde had his coin collection now, but the manners were still there. He excused himself out of his room –he was tempted to give Ronnie Anne a goodbye kiss on her cheek, but he wasn't so corny– and was ready to head for the kitchen, but he stopped when he noticed something.

The calmness. The silence.

During the last nine days, the Loud house had stopped being so loud. The familiar chaos he had grown up with and that he had complained so many times about was no more, and Lincoln found himself missing it. This time, however, it seemed to him that it was… different. Even though the news about his sickness had clearly affected all his sisters, and their depressed states were evident with the lack of motivation they did their activities, they never found themselves being in an absolute silence like the one the whole house was right then. Not the television, not the echo of conversations down the hall, not the sound of the creaky and loose floorboards, nothing was heard outside of his room.

Forgetting the juice for a second, Lincoln walked to the other end of the hall, knocking his fist against the door of his eldest sister's room.

"Lori?"

After getting no answer, he considered his options. He would never try to go into Lori's room without her written consent, but unfortunately for everyone, circumstances had changed. So without worrying that something horrible might happen to him, he opened the door and peeked his head inside. The floor was a mess, with the board games all over the place and the blankets and cushions they'd used before still there, along with some clothes. Still, no traces of Lori or Leni.

With a big dose of curiosity and a pinch of worry, Lincoln checked the rest of his sister's rooms, but only Lisa's seemed to have someone inside. Judging by the electric and mechanical sounds that slipped through the closed door, he imagined that the little genius was probably too busy in her research to act as a proper host for her sibling units. He walked downstairs, hoping to find them all in the living room, or perhaps the kitchen, but they weren't their either.

Where did they go? Why would they even go without letting him know? It didn't make any sense, and for some reason, he began getting anxious. He didn't like the idea of being left alone. Not when his calendar –hidden behind his bed so no one else would find it now that he didn't lock his door anymore– was running short. He, more than anyone else, was aware of the fact that every minute could very well be his last. Did they really think it was a good idea to go without telling him? Without…?

Without saying goodbye? Could they really live with that weight of their shoulders if…?

The sound of a voice brought the colors back to his face. He jumped to the window in the living room, pushing aside the curtains to take a look at whoever was outside. The relieved smile he had to begin to form faded away when he realized it wasn't any of his sisters, but her mother, carrying Lily on her arms and speaking on her cell phone. He was still ignorant of the whereabouts of his sisters, but if someone in the house could help him understand why they had all left without saying a word, that was his mother.

He went through the front door and walked into the stoop. The cold air caressed his face, and for a second he looked up in the sky, only to find that the Sun was nowhere to be found behind all the clouds. He looked down once again, resting his gaze on his mother.

"...I don't know, at least an hour and a half", she said, and Lincoln quickly noticed that she sounded afflicted. Whatever it was that she was talking about, it didn't seem to be a good thing. "It's not up to me, it depends on how long he… Yes, I know. Alright. I'll take him and–"

"Wincon!" Yelled Lily as soon as she saw her big brother a few feet away from her. She began laughing with no reason at all, stretching her arms towards him.

Rita turned around. The surprised and slightly scared face that she gave him was definitely far away from the reaction Lincoln would want his mother to have upon seeing him. She stood there, thunderstruck for a few seconds, before pressing her phone tight against her ear and tilting her head away from him.

"Honey, I have to go, please take care and don't come back too late. I love you", he said, before finishing the call.

"Who was that?" He asked.

"Lincoln, what are you doing here?" She asked herself, avoiding the question.

Lily kept making gestures towards Lincoln, so the boy closed the distance between them and grabbed her by her armpits, carrying her in his arms against his shoulder. She smiled and giggled, rubbing her cheek against Lincoln's head, who couldn't help but to catch on from that blissful ignorance. He envied her, to be honest. He wished he could live ignoring everything that was going on in his life.

"I was looking for the girls", he said as he blew a raspberry on Lily's belly, making her laugh and move her arms everywhere. "Have you seen them?"

"They… they had to go. They didn't tell me where", she quickly added; too quickly for his taste. "Where are Ronnie Anne and Clyde?"

"They're playing in my room. I should be getting some juice for them. But why did they all leave together? Why didn't they invite me, or at least let me know where they were going?"

Rita showed him a bittersweet smile and gently stroked her little boy's head. Lincoln felt his mother's soft fingers getting lost in his hair, and childhood memories flashed inside his mind. Memories of simpler times, happier and warmer. He closed his eyes and let out a sigh as he felt streaks of his hair being combed by Rita, who eventually dragged her fingers gently across Lincoln's face, placing them on his freckled cheeks. Lincoln opened his eyes and looked at his mother. He found himself staring at a face that seemed to grow a decade older during the last week. The eyebags were painful to look at, and he was sure that those wrinkles on her forehead hadn't been there not too long ago. He embraced Lily tighter against him, without complaining when the baby grabbed some of his chestnut hair and pulled it.

"I'm sure they just want you to have fun with your friends without worrying about them", he quietly told him, as she distracted Lily to keep her from leaving her brother bald. "Are you having fun?"

"Yeah", he confessed with a smile, "we're playing in my computer, taking turns. We're having a blast. And Ronnie Anne.. well, she's been acting a lot sweeter since, uh, well… since we're a t-thing..."

He might never get used to speaking about them in those terms. It felt incredibly bizarre, but it also felt right. Like it was just what it was meant to be. Lincoln didn't know much about love, but in his ignorance, the only thing that he knew was that being with Ronnie Anne made him happy on the inside. And the kisses weren't bad at all, to be honest. Rita's smile embarrassed him a little, but the way she bit her lips and blinked to contain some treacherous tears made him regret making that comment.

"Honey, listen", she said, clearing her throat to speak, "go upstairs and keep playing with your friends, alright? But… but we'll be leaving in an hour."

"What? Why?"

Rita closed her eyes and made a small pause to take a breath and get ready. Even before she explained it to him, Lincoln was already sensing that something bad was about to happen, something that would ruin his wonderful afternoon. Because the universe hated Lincoln Loud, and it wasn't willing to allow him to enjoy not even one nice afternoon with his family and friends.

Five minutes later, Lincoln walked upstairs with shaky feet, dragging them through the carpet once he was on the first floor. He opened the door to his room and slowly let himself fall next to Ronnie Anne.

"Hey, what took you so long? And what happened to the juice?" The young Santiago reproached him. Her mockery disappeared the moment she saw the worry in her boyfriend's eyes. "Lincoln? What's wrong?"

Clyde also turned around, forgetting about the game and allowing his rivals to kill him without resistance. They both noticed Lincoln's clenched fists, his trembling lips, but most of all, his scared eyes. Ronnie Anne saw him slowly turning his head until their eyes met, and the panic she saw there almost broke her heart. As soon as he stretched his arms towards her, she hugged him with all her strength.

It took him almost ten minutes to calm down enough to explain to them what his mom had told him. His anxiety didn't let him fully express himself at first, but the phrased with which he started was enough to make his friends worry.

"I-I don't know if I can do it."

An hour later, Lincoln was traveling in one of the backseats of Vanzilla next to Lily's baby chair, making sure that nothing happened to her. They had already left the city behind, and all that he saw through the window were the majestic trees of the periphery that gave Royal Woods its name. He used to travel that route outside the city a couple of times every month. It was always his mother who would drive him there, and usually, the journey was colorful, entertaining and filled with questions and happy conversations that distracted him and made him eager to reach their destination.

This time, the radio was the only thing that could be heard, with absurd and trivial comments about the weather.

"After several days threatening but never complying, tomorrow the clouds will drop a heavy rain over Royal Woods. If you were planning to go fishing, you better cancel your plans, buddy, because this storm will be pretty strong and dangerous. The meteorological service plans to launch an alert and ask people to stay at home to avoid accidents. And now, we move on to sports, in the international scope. Lionel Messi broke a new record with Barcelona. Other exciting news: the water is wet."

Well, at least he already knew what he could talk with Lynn once he got back home. That's it, of course, if he had any type of interest in talking with anybody after finishing what he was about to do. His right leg had been bouncing ever since they had left the driveway, and it didn't seem to be stopping anytime soon. He was just too anxious.

Even after over a week knowing that he had his days numbered, having to accept the fact that there wasn't too much time left before he got to rest in peace, one would think that nothing could really make him anxious anymore. He had had to face his older sisters, hidden the truth from his younger ones, dealt with breaking the news to his best friends, dealt with some depressive episodes of Luan, Lynn and Luna, ran after Lucy when she found out what had happened, and finally admit the truth in front of Lola and Lana. The levels of stress, melancholia, and emotional pain that he had suffered would have gotten any healthy person sick. They would've broken them, drained them from all their strength. Lincoln Loud, for better or worse, wasn't like everybody else. There was a spark inside of him that made him resist, hold on, never give up and do everything in his hands to keep himself from getting lost in the vortex of darkness that threatened to absorb him every second. He had stood his ground to every single one of Destiny's assaults.

And yet, every new challenge he was faced with turned out to be as hard or even harder than all the previous ones. He had somehow survived so far, but the idea of having to re-deal with the pain gave him the creeps. It terrified him. It made him sweat cold, and his mind was busy trying to find excuses to avoid dealing with this.

Even so, he knew that he had to do this. He always knew, even if he had been trying to not think about it. It would hurt him, yes. It would be terrible, yes; but he had to do it.

His mother also seemed to sense the immense pain that this would bring to her son, for they had barely exchanged words during the whole travel, and now that they were reaching the hill and slowing down, they both felt the tension rising with every passing second. When the van finally stopped, none of them said anything. The radio was turned off, and only Lily's incoherent gibberish as she tried to suck her toes interrupted the cursed silence. Lincoln saw his mother's hands squeezing the steering wheel.

"A-Are you…? You sure you want to go alone?" She asked with some difficulty.

No, no he wasn't. He didn't know what to do, how to do it, what to say, how to act. He wasn't even sure if he could find the strength within to carry on with such tremendous enterprise. Could anyone blame him if he didn't? Could anyone reclaim him anything? He had suffered in one week more than most people had to go through in their entire lives. Even the man with the plan should be allowed to find himself overwhelmed by circumstances at least once.

"Yes", he answered, nonetheless. "I want… I have to do it myself."

Rita didn't answer. She nodded in silence, looking down.

"I'll be waiting here. Be careful, and… and if something happens just… just call me and..."

"I will."

"I love you, sweety."

"I love you too, mom."

He walked out of the van without looking back. He knew his mother was about to cry, and he didn't want to see it. If he did, then he would definitely wouldn't be able to continue, he would break down too. He walked through the parking lot's sidewalk until he reached the entry of that place he had visited so many times before, and where he had had so much fun. He stopped in front of the glass doors under the big entrance. The surface reflected the landscape, the woods, the hill, and also the tiny little figure standing a few feet away from it. He stared at his dyed hair, and for the first time since he took the decision of changing his old look, Lincoln felt regret and shame. This wouldn't be easy to explain.

Taking a few deep breaths, doing a conscious effort to keep his hands from shaking, and getting ready to become the punching bag of the Fates, Lincoln finally walked into the reception hall of the Sunset Canyon Retirement Home.

He'd never liked the building before. There was something about the shiny floors, the neat windows, the tranquil background jazz music, the soft lighting and the aroma of disinfectant and lavender perfume that rubbed him the wrong way. For so long, he didn't know what it was that made him uncomfortable about that place, which in appearance looked so harmless and orderly. Now, however, he had a new perspective. Last week's events made it clear as water. The moment he stepped inside that lonely place, his flashbacks revealed him why he had never liked it before:

It didn't feel like a home; it felt like a hospital.

He took a deep breath and tried to push those thoughts away. His mission was clear, and he knew what he had to do. His mother had already told him: he needed to break the news to his grandfather Albert. After his diagnosis, and following his request, no one outside of his parents and older sisters had been informed about his condition. They had respected his wishes even if they didn't fully agree, but it had been over a week since then. The whole school had found out about it. Friends, classmates, not to mention the rest of his family core. They all knew about Lincoln's condition. They couldn't keep leaving Pop-Pop in the dark, without letting him know that his only grandson had very few days left. He was an important part of his life, and he deserved to know the truth, as painful as it may be.

What worried Lincoln the most was that the news would be a hard hit to his grandpa, a blow that his old body may not be able to resist. Yes, he was in an exceptional shape for someone his age. Yes, he could still kick some marine's ass in paintball to the point of leaving them in tears, but he was still an old senior. No one knew exactly how he would react to the news of his only grandson having a terminal disease, or how dangerous that revelation could be to his own health.

That was one of the reasons why Lincoln had insisted on going there alone, to be the only herald in such terrible enterprise. His mother's support would've been good for him, probably. To be able to surrender into the arms of the one person that had protected him and pampered him since his conception would have been a small comfort within what would probably become a true martyrdom. He knew his mother, though, he knew how much this whole deal was affecting her, and he couldn't trust her to remain calm enough to give the news to her father. Lincoln's greatest fear and the reason why he had asked her to stay in the van was that Rita would break down into tears even before he was able to break the news to Albert.

One of Lincoln's greatest traits had always been his capacity to communicate and persuade. He knew some little secret tricks that helped him convince his parents or siblings to follow him on his crazy plans. One of the said secrets was the simple principle that we are all a reflection of our own emotions. If you could manage to look convinced, positive and with the general attitude of someone who knows they're right, it was almost a piece of cake to get other people to follow you with whatever you wanted them to. That's how he always convinced his parents. Some gel on his hair, a fancy suit, a slide presentation to explain his reasoning, all of that with a dose of optimism was what made him such a sweet talker.

There was no way to look positive or confident at the time of announcing his condition, but having his mother crying desperately next to him would not help Pop-Pop.

He knew by heart where his grandfather's room was. He had visited it several times since Albert had moved to the retirement house. Taking a deep breath, he began his pace to the stairs that would lead him to the first floor and the room's wing.

"Everything's gonna be alright", he thought, trying to convince himself, trying to push away the idea that something might go wrong. And just when those thoughts went through his mind, a little electronic bell rang.

Lincoln looked up and saw a movement sensor located on the wall over the reception. He soon heard the sound of footsteps getting closer. Before he could run away or jump behind one of the plants that decorated the retirement house, a figure appeared from one of the halls, ready to receive the intruder.

Dressed in a nurse uniform, the short squat woman approached him with quick, short steps. Lincoln gulped down when those bulging and pouchy eyes were fixed on him. He hated that toad-like face, forcing a smile from ear to ear that couldn't fool anyone. He tried to stand as straight as possible, looking at her with his chin up in a defiant gesture, getting ready for a confrontation.

"Why hello there, young boy. What is such an… adorable child doing here by himself?" She asked through gritted teeth, the effort to sound nice evident from miles away. "Are you here to visit a relative? That's… wonderful!"

Lincoln raised an eyebrow. He knew that Sue hated him ever since that visit where he had alienated all seniors against her. Why did she try to pretend that everything was okay between them?

"Well, yeah, I'm here to visit–"

"YOU!" Sue suddenly yelled, taking a step back and pointing a finger towards the now scared Lincoln. "You changed your hair, but I recognize that voice!"

Of course, he thought, raising a hand to touch his brand new chestnut hair.

"How could I forget it?" The nurse continued as she walked closer to Lincoln, her narrowed eyes fixed on him, her dewlap hanging under her chin. "The voice of discord. Whispering lies to the ears of these poor elders, tricking them into believing that they're still young and that they don't need to take care of themselves. How could I forget the voice that ruined this place?"

Lincoln took a step back when she was getting closer to him, but he quickly shook his head and returned to his original position, puffing his chest out to look bigger than he truly was. That woman was evil, and he didn't have to worry anymore about being respectful to his elders. With everything he was going through, being polite to strangers was not something he cared about.

"I didn't ruin this place, I saved it from you", he snapped back. "You made all these people believe that they couldn't have fun anymore. You made them feel bad and useless, and you grounded them without any reason."

Sue's nostrils were moving like they had a life of their own, each breath making them grow twice their size in a threatening manner. If only her neck wasn't hidden behind that gross dewlap, he might have even seen her swollen veins.

"I don't know what fairy tale you've been told, but that… that adventure you dragged your grandfather on has only caused problems for this institution and the people who work here."

"Problems? Are smiles on people's faces problems to you?"

"They are when the cost of those smiles are the imprudence and lack of security measures", she answered in a whisper, the words barely reaching Lincoln.

"You're just pissed off because now all these people can have fun and do what they want", he said, his turn now to step forward, willing to give that terrible woman a piece of his mind. "Now they know they can have fun, and they don't listen to your dumb rules. And that makes you angry because you can't control them as easily as you used to."

Sue clenched her fists so hard she almost cracked her knuckles, and the way her lips were trembling managed to even scare Lincoln a little. He decided he wouldn't give up, though, and he replied to her rageful eyes with a look full of decision, daring her to contradict him.

They stared at each other in silence, challenging each other to look away for a moment that went longer than what Lincoln could find comfortable. There weren't many people that Lincoln didn't have a good relationship with. The Hazeltucky Hokers, that stupid millionaire Tetherby, Chandler, and Sue herself were part of that select group of people he didn't like. There were some that had redeemed themselves from his list, like Principal Huggings, who went from being a strict and stern principal to become a fellow comic book reader fan, but Lincoln couldn't possibly imagine the likelihood of someone as evil as Sue redeeming herself like that.

"Seventeen", said the nurse, breaking the silence, her small pupils fixed on the boy in front of her.

"Huh?"

"Seventeen", she repeated, before walking back to the reception desk and take a phone. She pressed some buttons and waited for a few seconds with the tube against her face. "Hello. Yes, it's me. There's a little boy that came to see you, he's at the reception. Yes, yes, we'll wait here."

Lincoln saw her ending the call abruptly, and he wondered what the hell was going on. Had she called his grandpa? Before he could ask her, Sue grabbed a file from the desk and opened it up around the middle.

"So far in this year, the Sunset Canyon Retirement Home has had a total of seventeen accidents that required medical assistance", she explained with disgust on her face, as she kept skipping pages until her index finger stopped in one. "Do you want to know how many of them happened since you and Albert started that… that riot?"

Lincoln buffed and crossed his arms.

"Are you really suggesting that it's my fault that…?"

"All of them, Lincoln Loud", she interrupted him, raising her voice. "Every single one of them happened after you came here."

He opened his mouth to reply, but Sue dropped her eyes to the file and began to read.

"Three fractures and a dislocation just on the first day, when four residents of the center and an eleven-year-old boy tried to lift a two hundred and twenty pounds, sixty-seven-years-old grown-up man", she read, every word escaping her mouth drenched in contempt. "The other thirteen injuries include two more dislocations, two bone fissures, two tendinitides, three grade two sprains, and two fractures, one of an elbow and one of a hip, the latter one requiring immediate hospitalization."

Lincolns arms slowly untangled and dropped until they hanged at his sides. He took a deep breath and made an effort to keep an angry expression on his face.

"You say that like it's my fault", he murmured, softer than he intended to.

"Oh, of course it's your fault", she quickly added, closing the file and stepping closer once again. "All those incidents happened because you made these poor people believe that it's okay for them to practice sports, to skip meals, to not take the medicines they don't like. Not all seniors have your grandpa's energy. They need to rest, to let their body repose after decades of hard work. It took me months to convince them to get into a healthy routine to keep them in shape, and you managed to sabotage and ruin my efforts in just one afternoon. No one wants to get to their age so tired, exhausted and with their bodies too weak to do what they used to do, and you convinced them that it's okay for them to be impulsive and to ignore the consequences of their acts. You think I only want to make them feel useless, but my priority is not to let them have fun, is to keep them alive and healthy."

"People need to be happy to be healthy", he said, the words somehow escaping the knot in his throat.

"Happiness, huh?" Sue said with a fake laugh. "Do you think they're happy thanks to you?"

Sue's eyes looked away from Lincoln and focused on something behind his back. It was then that he heard the sound of some wheels that were screaming for an oil change as they swiped across the gleaming and polished ceramic floors.

"A-Anthony?" Asked a familiar voice.

Lincoln turned around, and he had to catch his breath when he saw who had spoken.

"Bernie?" He asked out loud, taking a step back.

He, of course, knew his grandfather's friend, who had stood up against Sue's strict norms and who had given them a spare key to get into Albert's room. He looked almost exactly as he remembered him. A long face, accentuated by the wrinkled skin that was hanging from his cheeks and neck, that pointy nose that appeared between some round glasses that magnified the size of his eyes, and his hunched over posture.

Almost exactly as he remembered him, except that he now had some little plastic conducts coming out of his nose that were connected to an oxygen tube coupled to the side of an old wheelchair.

"Anthony", he repeated with a smile, his voice sounding just like a balloon running out of air, "it's… it's you… I wasn't-"

When he was finally close enough to take a good look at Lincoln, his smile froze at the same time his arm stopped pulling his wheelchair. He raised a trembling hand to fix his glasses.

"Oh… you… you're not Anthony", he said, only to stay silent and drop his shoulders.

"No, Bernie, he's not Anthony", Sue told him, walking next to the old man and putting a hand on his shoulder with a delicacy that was improper to a toad-face witch like herself. When she looked back at Lincoln, her eyes were filled with anger. "But you know him. Take a good look."

The nurse moved his wheelchair, reducing the distance between the young and the old. Bernie narrowed his eyes and studied Lincoln's faces for several seconds, until he smiled.

"Oh, yes!" He celebrated, whistling when the air slip through his teeth with the last word. "You're Old Al's kid!"

Lincoln gulped. He looked at Sue to distract himself from Bernie's respirator, but the nurse's evil face was just as disturbing.

"Hey, Bernie", he greeted him, waving his hand and showing all his teeth. "Yeah, it's me, Lincoln. I dyed my hair."

"Lincoln, Lincoln, of course. I still remember when I saw you on TV running after ol' Al. That man is something else, I tell you", he said between laughs. "What a nice surprise. I thought… well, I thought you were my grandson. His name's Anthony. He lives in Wisconsin, all over the other side of the Michigan Lake. He's around your age, you know? A very smart kid. Very smart, indeed."

Bernie closed his eyes and lifted his head up. It looked like the expression of someone enjoying a tasty meal, losing themselves in the flavor. Lincoln feared that he might have fallen asleep –best case scenario–, but he quickly opened his eyes.

"I'm sorry. I haven't seen him in a while. But tell me, what do you need me for?"

"I, uh..." Sue's murderous glare urged him to come up with an excuse. "I came to see my grandpa, b-but I wanted to see how's my friend Bernie doing!"

The old man laughed until he started to cough. Sue put a hand behind his hunched back, but he made a gesture like it was no big deal as he recovered.

"I'm sorry. Where were we?"

"I wanted to, uh, to know how you've been doing. What happened to…?"

Instead of finishing his sentence, he motioned his hands at the wheelchair.

"Oh, this?" Bernie said, looking at his sides to see the wheels that took him from one place to the other. "Dumb, old Bernie fell and broke his hip. My bones are not what they used to be. My brother Robert and I used to be in rodeos every year, and we were tough! One time, a bull hit me right in the ribs. I was tossed back like a rag doll and yet fell on my feet next to the stands! Robert wasn't so lucky. Up to the day he died, he still had a horn-sized scar right above his knee. Ah… Robert..."

His eyes darted off to the closest window, losing themselves in the landscape and the cloudy sky. Lincoln decided to ignore the numb feeling in his chest, slightly to the left.

"Why don't you tell him what you were going when you fell and broke your hip?" Sue suggested.

Bernie shook his head.

"We were playing Twister with Seymour and Charles. I got left leg, red, but I never got there", he lamented.

"Twister", Sue repeated, her accusing eyes fixed on Lincoln.

"I used to play it a couple of years ago", Bernie continued. "My son Paul and Anthony love it. Every Chrismas we-"

A new coughing attack interrupted him. Sue grabbed a mask next to the oxygen tank, but Bernie slapped her wrist to stop her.

"I'm okay, Sue", he said once he caught his breath. His big, magnified eyes looked back at the boy in front of him. "I'm sorry you see me like this, son. My body's not helping me anymore. Age didn't come soft on me."

Lincoln didn't know what to say. He was trapped in a conversation he hadn't planned, and what he was seeing wasn't motivating him at all. He fought to find the words, and in an almost desperate act, he finally said what his heart was thinking.

"The important thing is to make it this far, Bernie", he said with all honesty in a soft tone, trying to keep a poker face.

The man lifted the corner of his mouth in a smile, his cheeks filling themselves with wrinkles.

"But not like this, boy. Not like this", he said, sighing and making his smile bigger. "I wish I had your grandpa's energies. Ol' Al moves like he's still in his forties. Actually, the other d-"

His cough stopped him for the third time, but this time it sounded like he was about to spit out his lungs. Lincoln took a shaking step back, the sound of Bernie chocking with his own saliva struck in his mind. Sue moved fast, grabbing the oxygen mask and giving it to Bernie. After several breaths, the old man finally calmed down.

"Ok, that's enough", said the nurse with an authoritarian tone, "go to the lounge and use the mask for-"

"No! I don't need it!" He complained, taking the mask away from his face with trembling hands.

"We're still far away from Christmas, Bernie", Sue reminded him, with a strange tone Lincoln couldn't identify. It sounded kinda like a threat, but with some sadness and sympathy thrown into it, maybe?

Whatever that trivial observation meant, it had an immediate effect in Bernie. The old man remained in silence and dropped his shoulders, sinking into his wheelchair. New wrinkles spread on his forehead, and he finally let out a long sigh.

When he looked back at Lincoln, Bernie's eyes, magnified by his glasses, were brightless.

"It was a pleasure to see you", he politely saluted him, bowing his head as a farewell gesture. "You're a good kid. Good kid, indeed."

Not without certain difficulty, he put the mask back on, breathed in a few times, turned his wheelchair around and moved away at a turtle pace towards the lounge. Lincoln followed him with his eyes.

"Bernie's eighty-four years old", Sue said, staring at the senior. "To such a worn out body, a hip fracture is much more than just a broken bone. He's getting weaker every day. His defenses are dropping."

She didn't say anything else, and both her and Lincoln continued to look at Bernie until he turned into a hall and disappeared from their sight. Lincoln was biting his lower lip, trying to keep himself together.

"What does that mean? The thing about Christmas", he asked, if only to make some conversation to avoid the silence.

"His family lives in another state, and they can only visit him on Christmas", she explained to him, and her tone went from sad and calmed to angry and accusing. "But they couldn't come last time because they ran out of money for paying for his hospitalization fees and his hip surgery. Now Bernie struggles every single day, because he knows there's a big chance that he won't be here next Christmas, and he's terrified at the possibility that he might never see his son and grandson again."

Lincoln was taken aback by that. He had to close his eyes, and he found himself with shaky breathing.

"I-I… I didn't know… This isn't my fault", he hurried to say, shaking his head. "Bernie, he.. he should know what he can or can't do. I didn't force him to do it."

"You convinced him that he could do anything he wanted. You told everyone here that I treated them like babies instead of taking care of them. As far as I'm concerned, you are the responsible for what happened to Bernie. And you think he's 'happy' because he could play a dumb game? He might have enjoyed himself for fifteen minutes, but now he lives every day feeling that Lady Death is right behind him, and that she might reach him without letting him say goodbye to his family. A boy like you has no idea of how terrifying that can be to a man."

Lincoln didn't answer. He wanted to tell her that yes, he knew it very well. That, during so many days, that same fear had kept him awake at nights. That only the company of one of his sisters and their heartbeat against his chest allowed him to ignore his troubled mind to let the tiredness to consume him and thus fall asleep. That he couldn't go without a minute without feeling the presence of that dark entity in the corner of his mind, patiently waiting for him to relax for a second or to get distracted to attack him at the most unexpected moment. That every smile he put on his face felt like an excuse, a little masquerade to hide the true scared, dejected face of a kid that was facing something he was not ready for.

He wanted to tell her all that and more, but his fight to control his emotions hogged all his energies.

"Everyone here takes you for a hero, Lincoln Loud", Sue told him, leaning over him, looking right at his eyes and giving him the most eloquent look of contempt he had seen in his entire life, "but I know your true colors. You're nothing but a kid that pretends to know what he's doing. You take selfish decisions without thinking about anyone else but yourself. You ignore authority and you pretend that you have all the right answers. You lie to yourself to think that… What? Are you going to cry? Does it hurt so much to hear the truth?"

"Lincoln!"

Sue turned around and took a step back from him the moment she heard that female voice. Lincoln took a second to rub his eyes with his forearm before turning around. When he did, he saw two familiar faces walking towards him, and his heart jumped with both happiness and anxiety.

"Pop-Pop! Myrtle!" He greeted them with a smile just as he dashed their way.

Ignoring the surprised gasp from his grandfather, he ran until he had his arms stretched around Pop-Pop's wide hip, burying his face on his shirt. He embraced him tightly, in a way he hadn't done in a long time. He could feel Albert's confusion, but soon enough he also felt his strong arms resting on his shoulders.

"Won't you look at that! My little soldier came to see me without calling me first!" He said with a smile, giving him a couple of strong pats on his back that he barely felt as he was still recovering from hearing Sue's words.

"I missed you", he said, failing to keep his voice from shaking.

"I missed you too, kid, but tell me, what happened to the snow on your roof?" Pop-Pop asked, drawing away from the hug to take a good look at his grandson's hair.

Lincoln knew that question was coming, along with many others, and it was probably the hardest to answer. Albert had always been proud of the fact that his only grandson had his same hair. Lincoln himself was proud of it, being able to overcome the bullying his hair caused him by rejoicing on the fact that he looked like his grandfather. It made him feel special and also connected with one of his heroes.

How could he explain to him now that his white hair wasn't his heritage but a symptom of a terminal disease? How to tell him that no doctor had realized it to start a treatment in time because his grandfather's hair had deceived them? How could he tell him that he had dyed his hair brown because he couldn't stand looking at himself in the mirror just to see someone sick, dying? He could picture his grandfather feeling incredibly guilty. That he might feel ashamed for having been so proud of the snow on his grandchild's roof.

On the other hand, they had just given him the opportunity to explain why he was there in the first place. It was the moment to tell the truth and take that gigantic weight out of his shoulders. Being honest would bring relief to the heavy load of nerves and anxiety that he kept inside his stomach, the one that gave him nausea and made it hard for him to breathe. Sue's words were still on the back of his head, and telling the truth and allowing himself to cry along with them could help him get over this as fast as possible.

"Let me guess", Myrtle suddenly said, with a smile, "it was one of Luan's pranks, wasn't it?"

Lincoln looked at his grandfather's new girlfriend. After some initial discomfort, he and his sisters had accepted Myrtle into their lives. It was hard to dislike a woman so caring, kind and with so much love to give for them, even if sometimes she could get a little too excited to be with them.

"Oh, right, I should've known", Albert said, rubbing the boy's hair. "That girl's always stepping up her game, ain't she?"

Lincoln gulped. He didn't want to lie to his grandpa, but when he saw in the corner of his eye that Sue was still standing near him with her arms folded, he decided not to correct him. Not yet.

Pop-Pop also noticed the nurse.

"Hey, Sue. Everything fine?"

"For now, Albert. For now."

"Glad to hear that. So, Lincoln, why don't we go to my room to catch up?"

"That, uh, that sounds fine", he said. They would at least have some privacy in his room.

The three of them began to walk away to the stairs. Before stepping up, Lincoln gave one last look over his shoulder, only to find Sue's narrowed eyes fixed on him, following his every step.

As they went to the room, Myrtle and Pop-Pop began to tell stories from the retirement home. Scoot's escapades, Seymour's jokes, Sue's headaches. They laughed and told those tales with enthusiasm. Lincoln tried to catch on that same optimism, but he barely managed to fake a smile.

His mind kept going back to Bernie and the chances of him dying without saying goodbye to his family. That's what would've happened to him if Lynn hadn't hit him in the head with a soccer ball. It hurt him to think that he might be partly responsible for Bernie's dilemma. Had he really been a bad influence to the retirement home? He didn't see it that way. He would have never imagined it, and he wasn't sure if he should believe someone as evil as Sue. But what if she was right? What if, despite his good intentions, he had only caused wrong for everyone at the institution?

Was he still in time to amend it, or would he die with that black spot on his legacy?

He didn't realize where they were until they reached the room. The three of them walked inside, and Pop-Pop went straight to his wardrobe to get God only knows what. Lincoln decided to take a good look at the room since it might probably the last time he'd ever seen it. His grandfather was a simple man, and he didn't have too many stuff in his room other than what was necessary, but there were still some interesting things hanging on the walls. Old medals from his past, an oil painting of Royal Wood's landscapes he had bought a long time ago, and a big, framed picture of his eleven grandchildren smiling at the camera.

Lincoln stood in front of that picture. He remembered that day. They were all playing in the backyard when their mother called them for a picture. Now in the present day, he focused on his sister's smiling faces. He was surprised to see them so… young, considering that the picture was four months old at best. How could their faces have aged so much so soon? Were they really that much older? Or did their shiny smiles and cheerful faces made them seem younger in the picture?

He sighed. He would pay a fortune to see their happy faces at least one more time.

"Son? Are you listening to me?" Albert called him, shaking Lincoln out of his trance.

"Yeah, sorry, what did you say?"

His grandpa raised an eyebrow.

"I asked you if you're up for a chess lesson", he repeated, showing him the box with chess pieces he was carrying on his hands.

Lincoln couldn't help but smile. He loved chess.

"Sure, but I've been practicing", he remarked with confidence.

"Ha! I know all your tricks, boy. I taught them to ya."

Albert drew a table and put it in the middle of the room, with two chairs on the opposite sides of it. They put the board and sat down, while Myrtle sat on the bed to look at them playing.

"Wanna go white?" Albert asked.

"Sure."

Once ready, Lincoln moved his first pawn.

"Oh, the Slovak opening", Myrtle announced.

Pop-Pop smiled and moved his queen pawn.

"Wow, Albert, Karchavov's defense", his girlfriend said with admiration in her voice. "You're going aggressive on this one."

Lincoln and his grandpa shared a look and they both giggled. Myrtle knew absolutely nothing about chess.

They continued with the game, with the commentaries of an enthusiastic woman that invented names for all moves and who brought up references to made-up matches, like "the third game in the '76 finals between Birshnikovic and Tachikawa". Lincoln and Albert were pretty even in their levels. Pop-Pop had been a great player in his youth, but decades without playing had rusted him. Meanwhile, Lincoln was a very capable player. Chess was the only sport that he could give Lynn a run for her money. That's why she avoided playing against him at all cost, excusing herself with the argument that she wasn't a nerd. He was pretty satisfied with his capabilities, even if he never managed to win a tournament and take a trophy home.

A trophy…

He absently moved his knight to a powerful central square, forgetting that said knight was the only piece that defended his passed pawn. Pop-Pop immediately punished his mistake, capturing his pawn and turning the tables on him.

"Listen, honey", he said, looking over his shoulder to look at Myrtle, "I think Seymour told me he needed some help to find his key. Why don't cha go to see if he's alright?"

Lincoln was busy trying to find a way to fix his mistake, and he didn't even notice the knowing glance the other two people in the room exchanged, or the stark answer Gran-Gran gave before exiting the room. He moved his bishop just when the door was closed.

"Okay", Albert said without lifting his eyes from the board as he moved his knight to a dangerous position, "we're alone now. Wanna tell me what's wrong with ya?"

Lincoln moved uncomfortably in his seat. He knew what was coming, and he knew he couldn't prevent it. It was too late now.

"Nothing's wrong with me", he answered, moving his rook, getting ready for the blow.

"You've been distracted since you came. You haven't laughed at my jokes, and you look like you haven't slept since Easter", Albert said, moving a bishop and looking up to look at his grandson in the eye. "I know you, son, I know something's going on. Check."

Dang it. He had had a faint hope that his grandpa wouldn't have noticed it, but nothing escaped the once champion.

"Ok… Yes... It's..." he started, feeling his voice getting struck in his throat as he was forced to move his rook to capture the bishop. "...complicated."

Albert finally moved the knight he had prepared beforehand and captured Lincoln's rook, winning an advantage in the pieces exchange.

"Well, kiddo, you're talking with a boring, old geezer that doesn't have any plan for the rest of the day. If you need someone to talk with, you know your old man will be sitting here for ya."

He knew that Pop-Pop would listen to him. There was nothing in this world more important for the old man than his grandchildren, and every time they visited him, he only had eyes and ears for them. He loved them profoundly and unconditionally, and that big love was exactly what was terrifying Lincoln. The news would have a terrible impact on his grandfather, and just like Sue said, people at that age were more delicate. If a broken hip was causing Bernie so much trouble, how could Pop-Pop's body stand a broken heart?

Besides, maybe because of his attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder, he was still busy thinking about everything Sue had told him. It hurt him to believe that there was a chance of him being an accomplice in the crime of denying a family their last goodbye with a loved one before he passed away. Destiny had given him a second chance. He had received the gift of time. Time to say goodbye, to make amends for the things he regretted. To, at least, pave the ground for his family and loved ones. It was painful to live with his days numbered, yes, but that was more than what many people got.

The idea that his advice had taken time away from Bernie terrified him.

"Am I… Am I a bad person?" He asked, continuing with the game.

"Of course not, why would you think that?" Albert answered, accepting Lincoln's pawn sacrifice.

The position wasn't favorable for the young boy. He put his elbows on the table and rested his chin on his hands. As he tried to calm down, he calculated his next moves. His grandfather didn't rush him or hurried him. He waited in silence, giving him room and time to think.

"I've done bad things", he said after the long silence, moving a piece and resuming the game.

"Everyone makes a mistake once in a while."

"But my sisters… they… they forgive me for everything", he lamented. "They treat me like I'm perfect, like I didn't act like a jerk so many times before."

"Now come on, kid, don't be so harsh on yourself. You're their family, of course they will forgive you, just like you would forgive them if they-"

"But I don't deserve it!" He exploded, raising his voice and pressing down his Queen so hard the whole board trembled.

Pop-Pop looked up from the board and arched his eyebrows.

"Lincoln, what do…? Oh, dang it", he said, interrupting himself when he realized he had made a mistake by moving a piece without really looking at the board.

The boy, in a sudden frenzy of rage, didn't waste any time in punishing him.

"They treat me like I'm a saint, forgetting about all the stupid stuff I've done!" He fumed, advancing on the king-sides castle.

"I think you're overreacting", Pop-Pop answered, lamenting his mistake and trying to get his defense ready.

"I uploaded an embarrassing video of all of them on the Internet to get more views. Check."

Albert moved his King to another square.

"Last summer I bought a pool for myself and I didn't want to share it with them", he said, getting his knight into the attack and letting out a sarcastic laugh, "but they didn't even doubt to invite me to play with theirs. Check."

"Lincoln-" Pop-Pop tried to intervene, but as soon as he moved his pawn, Lincoln captured it with his queen.

"On our last garage sale, I started to sell stuff that wasn't mine just because I was tired of losing to them. Check. I forced them to stop using electricity because I wanted to ace a school project, but I didn't want to give up playing video games. Check."

Albert couldn't answer anymore. He was too busy trying to get out of the mess he had put his king into. Lincoln's anger was evident not only in the tears that were getting caught up on the corner of his eyes, but also in the way he played, moving his pieces as fast as if they were playing a blitz game.

"I made them believe I was bad luck b-because… because I didn't want to support them at their things! The whole family went there, but I wanted time for myself! Check!"

"Lincoln, listen-"

"I ditched them to go on a limousine trip with an old rich dude I didn't even know! Check!"

"Lincoln-"

"When we… when we thought our parents wanted to get rid of e-everyone but one, I, I… I wanted to be an only child! Check!"

"Lincoln!"

Pop-Pop wasn't paying attention to the game anymore; the end had been set a couple of moves before. He now only had eyes for his grandson. He had never seen him like this, making such a desperate tantrum, so angry with himself, right on the verge of tears. He wanted to give him words of encouragement, to comfort him, to relieve the guilt he was obviously feeling, but there was nothing he could do if he didn't know what had him so troubled.

"I'm not a g-good person! I'm a jerk, and n-now, because of ME Bernie doesn't even know if he'll say goodbye to his family!"

He grabbed his queen and placed it in the square defended by his knight, lowering his head the moment he did it, his fists clenched tight and pressed on the edge of the table, his knuckles white with the effort. He didn't even announce the checkmate. Both of them knew the result, but most importantly, they weren't interested in a stupid game of chess anymore. Albert couldn't feel proud for his grandson's progress in chess, and Lincoln couldn't get any excited for having beaten his grandfather, his mentor.

"Bernie? What the heck are you talking about?"

Lincoln stood up and walked away to the bedroom's window, turning his back on his grandfather and resting his hands on the window frame. He didn't even stop to look at the landscape. He didn't care about the clouds that covered the sky, or the hill the building was standing on, or the woods that surrounded it. He looked at his own reflection in the glass, only to find the face of an angry, confused, terrified little kid. He furiously rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand.

"What happened?" His grandpa asked.

With some difficulty, Lincoln told him about his encounter with Sue, the conversation with Bernie, and everything he had just found out. At no point he turned around to look at Albert. He didn't feel strong enough to do it.

"Don't listen to that witch", Pop-Pop told him as soon as Lincoln finished telling him everything. "She's just angry at you because she can't keep us from having fun now. Besides, don't be naive, it wasn't your fault that Bernie broke his hip. He's a grown-up man, he knew the risks, but he decided to have some fun either way. Nothing wrong with that, it was just an acc-"

"Nothing wrong with that?!" snapped Lincoln, hitting the window frame with his fists before turning around to frown at his grandpa. "How can you say that? He broke his hip and his body's weak now! And… and he doesn't know if he'll make it to Christmas! What about his family? What about his s-son and his grandson? And what…. What about…?"

He shut his eyes and his hands went up to his head. His fingers closed around brown locks of his hair, and he squeezed and pulled, feeling absolutely powerless. Lincoln felt his chest shaking and the first tears of rage left his eyes.

"Oh, my boy..." Albert softly said, walking near Lincoln and resting his hands on his shoulders. "You're a wonderful kid. You're smart and you've done amazing things, but you can't take credit for inventing death. Bernie is over eighty years old, he lost a kidney a couple of years ago. Breaking his hip might have left him in a bad state, but the poor man could barely walk before that. It's hard to say this, but he was running against the clock even before you came here."

The ex marine slowly dragged his hands from Lincoln's shoulders to his wrists, forcing him to loose his grip on the hair he was threatening to tear off.

"B-But… but… his family..." Lincoln said, sobbing like a little kid.

"Boy… His family knows Bernie doesn't have much time left", Pop-Pop said with a hint of sadness on his voice. "I guess they're ready… or as ready as one can get. People die when they're old, Lincoln, everyone knows that. There's nothing we can do; that's how life works."

He couldn't take it anymore. The giant, convoluted mess he had in his mind and heart couldn't take another blow. His bottled up feelings finally escaped in the form of an explosive weeping, burying his face in his grandfather's shirt, crying with violence. His legs failed him, and if Pop-Pop hadn't been holding him, Lincoln would've fallen on his knees.

It was just so unfair… Old people died, people that got to a point in their lives where they were already done and they could finally rest in peace. When their bodies weren't what they used to be, when their dreams and life goals had been, at least, tried. Old people had time to ready themselves for their destiny. Their families could get ready, and at the end of the day, they could find some comfort in the fact that, just like Pop-Pop had said, it was just part of life.

This wasn't Lincoln's case at all. His death couldn't be understood. No one had expected it. His family didn't have a chance to get ready for this. Even worse: he himself didn't have the chance of making his mind up on the fact that he was going to die. No one could understand it, and just like every human being, Lincoln was afraid of was he didn't understand.

He didn't know how to find relief or comfort in his situation, and the anger he felt was what had him now moaning in pain and crying with the force of a vomiting person, with his stomach revolted and his throat ablaze. He could feel his face red, and the only reason why he fought to calm himself down instead of surrendering to his anger and pain was that his grandfather was there, embracing him. He had to be strong for him. He needed to find the strength within to explain what was going on.

"P-P-Pop-Pop… I'm..." The words couldn't leave his mouth with his shortness of breath and the violent spams of his crying. "I'm… I'm… I'm sc-cared..."

He felt his grandfather's soft caressing and a few soft pats on his back.

"Oh, Lincoln, I get ya now", he whispered with a smile. "Are you scared this old geezer might go through the same thing as Bernie?"

He wanted to correct him. He wanted to tell him that he had no doubts that someone as full of energy and in such a good shape as Pop-Pop should probably live to their nineties, at least. That it had never even crossed his mind that his grandfather could be close to kicking the bucket. All that and more he tried to say, but he couldn't in the middle of his wailing.

"Don't you cry, my boy, you don't have to worry", Albert continued. "I still have some fuel left in my tank. This old man is too stubborn to be going anytime soon."

"B-But… I… I..."

"Hey, hey. Listen to your grandpa. Even if I left tomorrow, you don't need to be sad. I know it's hard to understand it now. When you're young, you just want to live forever. So much energy, so many projects…! Death is terrifying then."

Those words only made him cry harder and louder.

"But in time, you'll change your mind. I'm not afraid of death anymore. The only reason I'm not letting it catch up to me is that I want to see what kind of man and women you and your beautiful sisters will grow up to be. My life was completed the moment you were born. You're my legacy, the biggest of my trophies. I don't brag about my medals with all these old greybeards, no! Your pictures in my wallet are what I show proudly! And listen, the day I'm gone, don't you cry for me. I'll be gone knowing that I leave a wonderful family behind me, a family that loved me. And I'll be with you in everything you do."

For a moment, Lincoln realized how inconsequential some pretty words could be in such a dramatic situation. He put himself on his sister's shoes, and he felt even more powerless when he understood that none of his speeches could have given them a fraction of the serenity and comfort he had expected. All the prep time and the practice he had put in those words had been in vain. And he felt like an idiot for believing that he could possibly be helping them. Listening to his grandfather repeating the same old trite and cliche words he had said so many times only made him feel worse.

It also made him realize that it was practically the same speech he had prepared to give to his grandfather. A carbon copy of it; the same words, the same message.

With his face still drenched in his own tears, he turned his head to his right and tilted it down, so Albert wouldn't see his face.

"I-I… I'm s-sorry… I'm sorry..."

His grandfather hugged him tighter and he made told him that everything was going to be alright, that it was all good, that he didn't have to worry, not realizing for a second that Lincoln wasn't apologizing for crying, but for being weak and for not being strong enough to tell him the truth.

A little over an hour passed until Lincoln walked down the stairs alone by himself. His feet were dragging, and every step down was like falling on a little cliff. His arms were hanging limp at each side of his body, swinging deedless with each step. His downcast look had no focus. His whole body was moving on autopilot towards the exit as his mind had a very intense, inner battle.

Part of him wanted to turn around, run upstairs into Pop-Pop's room, jump right back into his arms and tell him the truth. Do what he ultimately was supposed to have done in the first place. His grandfather needed to know. He deserved to know. He deserved to know what his grandson was going through. He was part of the family, and it wasn't right to leave him in the dark about the great tragedy that the Louds were living. On the other hand there was a part of Lincoln that was worried about his grandpa's health. He was seriously worried that Pop-Pop could have a heart attack upong hearing the news. That would really suck. Not only that, but there was also a third part that told him that there was nothing wrong in delaying the news for a little bit. After all, Lincoln had already suffered a lot, and having to break the news to his grandfather would only be another blow to his mistreated emotional state. It was probably his most selfish part talking, whispering into his ear, but Lincoln reminded himself that he wasn't perfect, that he wasn't as good of a man as he would like to believe that he was. That he also deserved to have his selfish moment.

That's how he convinced himself to keep moving. He had been in the retirement home for a long while, he could ignore Blarney the Dinosaur's advice and lie to his mother, tell her that he had already spoken with his grandfather. It hurt him, and he felt disappointed with himself, but after all he had been through, he honestly didn't feel ready or capable to do what he had to.

He reached the ground floor, and once again, the smell, the lightning, the silence, it all reminded him to a hospital, and any doubt or reason he had to stay there disappeared all of a sudden. He closed his eyes and took a breath, only to put his hands in his pockets and look down.

He walked with the idea of leaving that place as soon as possible. He wanted to go back to his house, to forget about everything, to be with his sisters. He might have take Lori's offer and ask her for a hug. He reached the middle of the entry hall, and just when it seemed his martyrdom would finally end…

"That was fast. Luckily."

He stopped dead on his tracks. He didn't move or say a thing.

"No one called the emergency line, so I assume no one ended up hurt this time. We're improving, aren't we? Baby steps."

Lincoln finally looked up. Sitting behind her desk, filling some files, there was Sue. She had some reading glasses on, with her eyes fixed on the papers in front of her, not even daring to look at Lincoln. He was standing there, staring at her. Thinking on how to reply; considering whether he should actually do it in the first place or not.

His first instinct was to answer that old witch and give her a piece of his mind. To get into an argument with her, to yell her mean, ugly words that he would have never dared speak in front of a grown-up. To get angry and let him self get lost in rage could be cathartic, as he had lately discovered. And even though he had had outbursts against his sisters and friends, so far he hadn't really exploded against everyone. Maybe that's what he needed, to allow himself to experience the most basic and low emotions and get even with Sue. He couldn't say she didn't deserve it.

On the other hand, the wisest thing would probably be to go without saying anything, and he knew that. To not give her the luxury of falling into her provocation. To avoid an unnecessary conflict. He was tired, drained, exhausted, the last thing he needed was to get even more stressed. It would be easier to swallow his pride, to quiet his inner demons and leave without saying anything.

And then he thought: with everything he had learned that day, and all the things he wanted to say, could he really leave without speaking his mind? He wouldn't have another chance to go back and deal with those issues. This was probably his last visit to the Canyon Sunset Retirement House. There was a big chance that he would die before getting the chance to come back. Why leave this chapter unfinished on his book? Would he really let Sue's provocation be his last experience there?

Biting his tongue, he fished his hands out of his pockets and got closer to Sue's desk. He stopped next to it, and his silence made the nurse to look up with an unamused face.

"What?" She asked, sounding almost annoyed.

That woman really knew how to make herself be hated.

"I… I'm sorry", he said, clearing his throat.

Sue left her pen on the table.

"You're sorry?"

"Yes. I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. I only wanted to play with my granddad", he explained, raising his hands and motioning them in an unbelieving gesture, "I didn't know that… that things would change for everyone. I just wanted to have fun with him!"

Sue scrutinized him with her look, probably trying to discern how much truth was behind that apology. After a few seconds she buffed and turned her attention back to the papers she was reading.

"The damage is already done. I appreciate your apologies, but there's nothing to be done."

She grabbed her pen once again, but Lincoln interrupted her before letting her continue with her work.