23. The Storm - Part I(1)

On this very same day, two years ago, the first chapter of Requiem for a Loud was being published on this site. An idea I had in my had for several weeks, that I planned from beginning to end, that I divided in chapters, and that made me go "Yeah, I need to write this". Two years! That's awesome. Thank you all for following this story.

These past few months were very tough for me. Not only did I have to deal with the start of a new year of college, with everything that brings with it, but shortly after posting the last chapter, I had the disgrace of losing my grandfather. It was tough, and it took me a long time to be able to sit down to write again. This story in particular, as you can imagine. I haven't done much since then because of this. If you've seen me posting drawings and stuff, that's mostly because my poor economical situation led me to open drawing commissions, but even making those drawings had severe consequences with my univ because I couldn't use my time properly.

Finally, however, I'm bringing you Chapter 23. The extremely important Chapter 23. This chapter is what Infinity War was for the Marvel Cinematic Universe. The culmination of two years of work, the cornerstone of a wonderful journey that led me to meet wonderful people, making new friends, and rediscover myself as an author.

If you ever take the time to read the story without waiting months between chapters you'll notice that in almost all chapters (not all of them, but a lot) there's a reference to the weather. The sky, the Sun, the clouds… The way the weather relates to Lincoln's mental and physical health has always been part of the subtext I've worked with, and here we reach the big finale, the culmination of everything I've been setting up for so long.

I give you, ladies and gents, The Storm – Part I.

Why part one? Because the full chapter (already written) is 33K words long, which is insanely long even for me. There is, however, a point in the chapter that makes total sense for me to divide it and leave it on a cliffhanger. This is the first part. Don't worry, however, because part two is already finished and will be posted next week's Friday.

Disclaimer: The Loud House doesn't belong to me. Everything from this show is property of Viacom, Nickelodeon and their rightful owners.

Second disclaimer: I shamefully admit I didn't proofread this. Lol. Sorry about that.

.Chapter 23:The Storm

Part I

.

Lincoln woke up knowing that he had had a nightmare, but unable to remember it. He knew it even before opening his eyes, when his consciousness activated his senses and reality fell upon him, making him feel oppressed, trapped, cornered against his own bed. He tried to remember what he had dreamed and the effort proved to be in vain, for it wasn't images what he remembered but sensations. Emotions. Whatever it was that he had dreamed, he knew that it had affected him deeply somehow, since he could feel his back sweaty, his chest under pressure, and his breathing accelerated.

He tried to open his eyes, but the eye boogers kept his eyelids closed. Only when he tried to lift an arm to rub and wipe his eyes he felt a weight on his elbow, which made him stop for an instant before his mind became alert and aware of what was going on, his surroundings, and the reason why he left trapped.

A warm smile appeared in his face as he lowered his arm down again, and a breathing sigh slipped from between his lips. He was convinced that he had had a nightmare, but his fears vanished like dewdrops with the first rays of the morning Sun as he realized that the pressure in his chest was nothing more than Lucy's forehead leaning against him, and that his sweaty back and the weight on his arms was the product of the determination with which a sleeping Lynn hugged him from behind, securing him in her protective embrace as if she did not want to let him move.

She was definitely succeeding if that was her goal, but Lincoln didn't mind. He kept his eyes closed and didn't move, deciding to remain in the comfort of the cocoon of containment, affection, and security in which his sisters had locked him up. He breathed a couple of times, feeling the scent of Lucy's hair, losing himself in it and in the safety with which Lynn's right arm crossed over his body.

During the past week, Lincoln had bunked up with some of his sisters more than he ever remembered doing it in recent years. First with Luan on the couch, then with Lynn, then with Luna in the tent they put on the backyard, then the twins, and now with Lucy and Lynn, again.

He recalled that last night Lana and Lola had peeked into his room to wish him a good night. Right then he thought it was cute that they would approach him just so he could give them a little kiss on their foreheads and a big hug, but now that he thought about it… They had probably went there to ask him if they could bunk with him tonight, but said nothing when they saw Lucy and Lynn occupying all the space that his small bed was able to provide them. He would have to invite them over to bunk with him tonight, but what was he supposed to do if Lucy also asked for a second night sleeping right next to him? What if Luna said that she felt awful and needed to have him in her arms? What if it was Luan the one that needed him? They all needed him, but he couldn't divide himself in ten. He needed to allocate himself and his time in a fair way, because he truly loved being with every single one of them, and he wanted to make use of what little time he had left to—

His eyes popped open without a need to rub them. He sat up, not caring that his sudden movement moved the mattress, shaking Lucy and moving himself away from Lynn. All the easiness and security he felt vanished along with the color of his face. His hands moved up to rub and scrub not only his eyes, but his whole face, pulling his cheeks and ending up at the roots of his hair, clinging to his chestnut locks, threatening to pull painfully from them.

He no longer had his sister's arm lying on his chest, but he still felt suffocated, as if a child was sitting on him, preventing him from breathing normally. He had to part his lips and breathe through his mouth to make sure that enough air entered his lungs. His stomach twisted inside. He was about to vomit.

He peeled off his blankets without even bothering that he was uncovering his sisters, who remained in their peaceful slumber. He stretched one leg over Lynn and with a small jump he got out of bed. He almost fell to the floor when his knees gave up under the weight of his body, but he managed to hold on to his desk at the last moment. Feeling dizzy and disoriented, he opened the door of his room and walked quickly to the bathroom. He opened that door too as far as the hardware allowed it and entered the small room.

His first instinct was to throw himself on his knees in front of the toilet, waiting for whatever he had eaten to leave him soon so he could feel better. When the minutes passed and nothing happened, however, Lincoln began to calm down. The first step was to lean against the wall, sitting on the floor, and looking up at the ceiling. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply.

Concentrating on his breathing, on the cold of the tiles and ceramics on the floor, and on controlling his trembling hands, he was able to clear his mind and calm himself down little by little. After a few minutes, he regained control of his own body. He rubbed his eyes to finally remove the annoying eye boogers and carefully raised himself up. He went towards the mirror and, once in front of it, gave himself a new look.

He couldn't lie, it was still hard for him to look at his hair and find that color so similar to Lynn's or Luna's. It was weird, seeing his reflection and feeling that someone else was looking back at him from the crystal. Ever so carefully, he raised a hand to touch his always-rebellious cowlick, examining it absently.

It was weird, yes, but this was the hair he was supposed to had seen in his reflection all this time. His white hair had made him special, but he didn't want to be unique and different. Right then, he would have given it all just to be normal. To only have to worry about what any regular child should have as their priorities.

He opened the tap and poured cold water over his face before his mind could wander back into those thoughts he was trying to avoid. He washed his face, grabbing a towel from the wall to dry himself and look back at the mirror. This time, his reflection showed him an image that he could identify with and within which he could recognize himself.

He saw a beautiful mask of stony, polished marble, a simile skin that resembled an eleven-year-old boy, but whose pallor and exaggerated stoicity betrayed its function. With its decayed and opaque eyes like craters on the surface, it was possible to see under the elaborate mask the first signs of a frightened and confused child, of someone escaping, stumbling through a race that it was known to be lost beforehand.

He could deal with seeing himself that way, but he wasn't willing to let his family, especially his sisters, see him like that too. No, he wouldn't allow that their last memories of him were tinted by the memory of a scared, confused child. He wanted… No, he needed to show them something else. And he knew how to do so, for Lincoln Loud always had a plan for everything.

Deciding that there was no use in showering just yet —everyone in the house was sleeping and he didn't want to wake them up with the sound of water—, he left the bathroom and began walking towards his room so he could dress up and start the day with the right foot. He began organizing his morning in his mind, trying to make use of every minute so he would have a filled agenda to keep him always busy, because as long as he was busy, it would be hard for him to stop and think like he had just done a few minutes ago on his bed.

And as long as he didn't think, he was alright.

His presumption that everyone in the house was asleep was proven wrong when a few whispers escaped through the cracks in the door of Lisa's room. He stopped in front of it. He lifted his wrist, and Adrien's watch indicated that it was six and thirteen in the morning. Whether she had gotten up very early or had not yet gone to sleep, she had lost valuable sleep that a four-year-old girl shouldn't do without.

Lincoln stopped by the door and didn't need to think too hard to know that he needed to go inside and talk to her. He had been looking for an excuse to talk with Lisa. His little sister barely left her room, and Lincoln could only share time with her during the daily morning and night check-ups, when he drank her "flue antidote". And even those moments had become more insipid during the last days. At first, she not only took blood and saliva samples, she would also ask him questions about how he felt, his state of health, his sleep cycles… Lately, however, his visits weren't any different than just a routine medical check-up. And he hated everything that reminded him of a hospital.

As he breathed in and psyched himself up to get inside her room, he sharpened his ear to listen to what his sister was whispering, and he was surprised to hear a much older voice.

"...definitive under any concept, we can only theorize about the possible results. I need more time, more tes—"

"There is no time!" Lisa intervened, her voice struggling to keep itself down. "I need answers today!"

"Doctor Loud, I understand your predicament, but it would be irresponsible from our part to administrate experimental serums without the necessary regulations. My reputation could be stained, the Board could take away my license, the consequences are too big to—"

"Your reputation is my doing, Cameron!" Lisa exploded, interrupting once again whoever she was talking to. "It was my conjectures and calculations that resolved your investigation! How do you think the scientific community would react if I published my studies and our conversations? You've put your worries in the wrong place if it is the Board that you fear and not me!"

Lincoln, suddenly anxious, placed a hand over the doorknob, hoping to silently turn it and sneak into his youngest sisters' room. The moment his fingers touched the cold metal, a red light flashed next to the lock, and a digital sound bleeped inside the room.

The boy cursed to himself when Lisa suddenly stopped talking. With his cover blown up, he tried to open the door, but it was locked.

"Our conference will have to end here, Doctor Cameron," she said, her voice much more controlled this time. "You have an hour to send me the formula."

"I beg you to reconsider your—"

"An hour, Doctor."

A brief pause preceded a defeated sigh.

"Very well. I may question your methods, doctor, but my heart is in your cause. I'll send you my advances immediately. Good luck with your—"

"An hour," she repeated, and the sound of a screen turning off was the last thing Lincoln heard.

A few seconds later, the light on the lock turned green, and the door opened to reveal young Lisa Loud, dressed with her usual lab coat and safety googles, standing right in front of her brother with a neutral and unamused expression.

"Greetings, older brother. I observe that your sleep cycles have been interrupted early this morning. It might result appropriate to use this opportunity to realize the daily morning routine check-ups without the intervention of the rest of our family units."

"Lisa, have you slept at all?" Lincoln asked, kneeling down to be at her height.

"I slept enough," she answered, grabbing him by his wrist and dragging him inside her room.

The boy was forced to walk into the dark bedroom, trying his best for his feet to make as little sound as he could on the carpet to try to not wake Lily up. As Lisa dragged him towards the stool where she usually conducted her tests, he peeked at the cradle to make sure that his baby sister was sleeping, changed, warm, and with a clean diaper. After that one instance when he had to call her out for not paying enough attention to Lily, she had taken her older sister responsibilities more seriously, and there hadn't been any more instances of her being irresponsible with Lily.

Lisa escorted him to her desk and made him sit down. She turned on a table lamp that illuminated that area of the room and opened some drawers, extracting the materials she used during the daily checks on her brother.

"Lisa, tell me truth. How much did you sleep tonight?" He inquired.

"As I've said, I rested enough so my body can continue operating functionally with the help of specialized vitamin supplements."

"And what does that mean?"

"It means that your worries are lacking a strong foundation to sustain themselves on, brother," she answered, plugging in some wires to a machine which function Lincoln didn't know. "My state of health isn't relevant in this scenario, but even adhering to the theory that it was, your consciousness can rest assured knowing that my habits will not cause permanent consequences in my biology. Now, remove your upper sleep garment to start the tests."

It didn't go unnoticed to him the extreme formality with which Lisa was talking. Yes, she usually used complicated words, but right now she looked even more detached than usual. Knowing the procedure, Lincoln unbuttoned his orange pajama and let it slip to the ground, frowning as he did so.

"Permanent? So you're…? AAAH! Cold!" He complained when his sister put a cold liquid on his chest to adhere the electrodes there. "So you are being reckless about your health."

Lisa didn't answer. Once all the electrodes were in place, she went to her computer and pressed a bunch of different buttons. She also grabbed a helmet with several wires connected to it and put it on Lincoln's head. Realizing that his sister was obstinate in her decision to not talk with him, he decided to leave all subtlety aside.

"Lisa, listen, I… I appreciate everything that you're doing for me. I really do. You know that, right?"

She couldn't overlook his tone, and she slowly turned around to look at him. Now that he had her attention, he stretched an arm and put a hand on one of her little shoulders.

"I don't allow myself to think about this because… because I don't want to get any hopes up. But I appreciate it a lot, and I can't thank you enough."

"N-No need to thank me," she said, her head tilting down like she was embarrassed to look at him, "I'm just doing what I should've done—"

"Even so, I don't want you to lose yourself into this investigation," he interrupted her. "I don't want you to feel like it's your responsibility to do this. And… and if you didn't happen to make it, I want you to know that it wouldn't be you—"

"I'll fix it!" She said to him, raising her voice and her head, glaring at him with a mix of fury and pain, as if she was offended by his words. "All my resources, time, and budget are focused on these tests! Failing is not an option!"

He fearfully looked back at the cradle, but Lily was still sleeping. Lowering down his voice in hopes that Lisa would notice it and whisper along, he went for a comeback

"Even the best can fail once in a while."

"Not like this! Not when my brother's at stake," she said, clenching her fist. "I can not allow myself to fail, so I won't."

"I don't want this to consume you. Please, I just—"

"Lincoln," she interrupted him, with a sharp and determined tone that seemed to contradict her trembling knees, her fist still clenched and her eyes blinking to contain incipient tears. "Since you came back home from the hospital I've been busy with my investigation. I know that you and the others believe that I don't pay attention to what happens in this house, but my insight does not require my total concentration to be aware of my surroundings. Since you arrived, you have been fulfilling the wishes of all our sisters. You have put aside your own happiness and have neglected your emotional state to concentrate on your loved ones being happy rather than you. The fact that you, of all people, question my methods is nothing but an act of hypocrisy."

He opened and closed his mouth, surprised and a little hurt by those words. A part of his conscience was telling him that, maybe, Lisa had something going for her argument. He definitely put the happiness and well-being of his loved ones before his own, but there was no way he could allow himself to lose that discussion.

"It's not the same," he replied, his sympathetic and reconciliatory tone now transformed into a much more cautious and calculated one. "You're only four-years-old, you can't carry the—"

"My biological age is irrelevant because I'm the only person on the planet who can save you," she said, taking a step down from her stool and facing her older brother. "Perhaps you're right, and I shouldn't carry the responsibility, but my only alternatives are to either sit idly by, overcome by the situation, or put my hands to work and cure you before it's too late."

During all this time, the sensors have been gathering information about Lincoln's body, and the machine they were all connected to made a high-pitched sound as a blue light began to twinkle. Lisa immediately turned to it.

"It doesn't require a genius to see that there's truly just one alternative," she finished, taking the electrodes off his body.

Lincoln put his pajama back. He wanted to reply, to answer back with such logic and good arguments that he could make Lisa reconsider her views and realize what he saw as a clear truth: she couldn't feel guilty about Lincoln's final fate. As much as he hoped against all odds that the little scientist may save him, he didn't want her to feel like it was up to her to save him, or that whatever happened to him would be exclusively her fault.

To win a debate against Lisa Loud, however, was a herculean task to which Lincoln had no confidence in himself at all. Maybe if his mood wasn't so down, if he didn't feel like he was on the edge of falling from a cliff, of losing himself in a lowering spiral of anguish and deception, then maybe he would have tried to argue against his sister's cold and impersonal logic.

But that was simply not the case.

When he finished with the last button of his shirt, he didn't stand up or say anything. He stayed right where he was, looking at his barefoot over the warm carpet of his little sisters' room while Lisa was checking her notes and test results. He didn't have a chance to think of a proper strategy to talk with his sister, since only just a few seconds after the machine announced that the tests were completed, she leaned over a short case where she had a small collection of testing tubes filled with that blueish liquid she'd been prompting Lincoln to drink for almost a week.

"I assume you're already familiar with the procedure," she sternly said, grabbing a test tube and handing it over to Lincoln.

At this point he was more than accustomed to the strange, bubbling, smoky liquid that his sister made him drink twice a day. He remembered his impression the first day, when he had to try the strange brew for the first time.

And he also remembered the lies.

"Am I still sick with the flu?" He asked, examining the test tube he had just taken in his hand, moving his fingers so that the liquid slowly rotated and stirred in the small container.

"The preliminary results of the tests indicate that the virus in question is still in an incubation state within your organism," she answered immediately. "It is advisable to take preventive measures and continue drinking the antidote to avoid any possible alteration of your delicate state of health."

"The antidote," he repeated, pursing his lips as he stared intently at the liquid he was about to drink. "You didn't have it a few weeks ago when we all got sick. We used some water pistols with chicken soup. Did you discover this recently?"

The little scientist diverted her eyes from the analysis in order to cross her gaze with her brother's. Their eyes met for some endless seconds, without even blinking.

"Yes, Lincoln," she muttered, "clearly it's a new discovery."

"When did you say you found out I had the virus again?"

"As I told you the first day, I went to your room the night before and performed tests without your consent. The results came—"

Lincoln stood up and slurped every last drop of the supposed cure for his flu. The sudden movement served to silence Lisa, who continued, however, looking at her brother with narrowed, sharp eyes.

Having finished with his morning check-up and knowing that nothing he said could help Lisa at the moment, he decided to leave the room and try to focus on what he could do, on all the things he had planned for his morning and that would help him clear his mind and, hopefully, find some peace.

Lisa didn't try to stop him, to interrupt him or finish what she had been saying before. As soon as he started to walk towards the door, the little girl once again focused all her attention in the computers and all the papers she was working with. Lincoln gently opened the door, trying to not make a sound that would wake up Lily. Just before leaving, his hand leaned against the door frame. He sighed.

Maybe only on a whim, but he wanted to leave with the last word.

"That night I didn't sleep in my bed," he said without turning around. "I slept with Luan on the couch. Dad took me back to my room after six in the morning."

He waited several seconds, but didn't hear any response. He held his breath, hoping that Lisa would suffer from an honesty attack and would tell him the truth, but he didn't want to pressure her. After all, he understood that she was also going through difficult times and that none of it was easy for her either.

"I don't know what I'm drinking, but… Whatever it is, it helps me sleep at night," he confessed with a smile. "At first the nightmares wouldn't let me rest. Now, almost every day I can sleep late. I don't know what it is, but… I guess… maybe it's working."

And just like that, he closed the door behind him.

Once in the hallway, he finally let out the air he had trapped inside his lungs. His hands went up to massage his temples. He couldn't let a bad start of the morning ruin his entire day, with all the possibilities that were presented to him to do everything he had planned.

He entered his room silent as a ninja. In his absence, Lynn and Lucy had instinctively sought comfort among themselves, having narrowed the distance between them just enough for the older girl's arms to surround the little girl. That little protective and affectionate gesture was a small candle lit in the darkness inside which Lincoln was trapped. A sign of warmth, of love, of fraternity in times where everything was perceived as cold and lacking in hope.

He took advantage of his visit to cross out one more day of his calendar. Goodbye, Tuesday. It was already Wednesday. Ten days since that fateful Sunday when everything had changed, but also when everything should have ended for him. Each one of the crossed out days had been a second chance, and those that remained to be marked were nothing more than blank sheets so that he could write his new story, the one that everyone would remember him for.

Well, the man with a plan wasn't going to miss his opportunities. Being a little self-conscious and hoping that his sisters wouldn't wake up, he changed right here in his room before leaving, going down the stairs and entering the ground floor of his house. It was dawning, and some natural light filtered through the closed curtains of the living room. He walked in the semidarkness of the dining room and went straight into the kitchen, where he finally turned on the light.

He approached the fridge and checked everything he had available to work with.

The first to wake up were his parents, who were led by several sensory signals towards the kitchen. The lights that escaped into the dining room, the sound of dishes being placed on the countertop, and most importantly, the pleasant and sweet scent of a well-prepared breakfast.

They arrived just in time to see Lincoln adding a thick layer of syrup and butter on a plate with about a dozen waffles.

"Good morning," he greeted them as soon as he saw them, with a big, warm smile on his face.

"Lincoln… what are you doing so early?" His father asked, approaching along with his wife towards his son as she locked him in a strong hug.

"I woke up, and… well, I decided to make breakfast for everyone," he answered calmly as his mother caressed his hair.

His parents took a look at everything Lincoln had prepared. A variety of eggs —the style that each member of their family liked the most—, the mountain of waffles with syrup and butter, two dozen strips of bacon, and a basket of French toasts.

He was aware that he had occupied the ingredients for at least two breakfasts, but for once in his life, he decided he could get away with setting side the limited budget of his family. It was, after all, for a good cause.

He walked away from his mother and went to the counter, where he quickly hurried to take two plates, serve their portions, fill two cups of hot espresso and reach for them.

"Here you go. I don't want to brag, but I think you'll find them delicious," he said with exaggerated confidence and presumptuousness.

Lynn Sr laughed softly and accepted his breakfast, while Rita took it without saying anything and hurried out of the room. Lincoln's smile faded as his eyes lost what little brightness they had left. His father drank a couple of sips from his cup and let out a loud sigh before placing a hand on his son's shoulder.

"Thank you, kiddo. You're amazing."

Faced with that compliment, he couldn't help but smile again.

"Let me know if you need any more help with breakfast. And please, don't forget to make something for you too."

"Don't worry," he told him.

Lynn Sr smiled and tugged him closer to give him a paternal kiss on the forehead.

"I love you."

"I love you too, dad."

His father took his plate and went to his room, to have breakfast and to accompany his wife, who clearly needed him.

A few minutes later, Lincoln heard the first sign of activity in the form of the sound of footsteps reverberating in the wooden mezzanine, preceding the soft taps on the doors and Lori's voice, awakening the rest of her sisters. He hastened the preparation of the last details of the great breakfast, getting ready to wear his best and most radiant smiles.

He soon heard the sound of footsteps descending at full speed on the stairs, and seconds later, Lori, still in her nightclothes, came almost trotting into the kitchen. She stopped in the doorway as soon as she saw Lincoln, who took a deep breath and gave her the first of his smiles.

"Good morning!" He told her, showing off his teeth.

The slightly worried face of his older sister suddenly found relief, and she let out a sigh big enough to fill a balloon. After closing her eyes for a few seconds, a warm yet moderated smile —absolutely different from the big ear-to-ear smile Lincoln was wearing— spread on her face, and she paced towards her little brother. He left aside his cooking glove and the plate he had in his hand to receive and return the hug she gave him. He pressed his face against his sister's belly, losing himself in the tender, slow caresses she was giving to his back and hair. His exaggerated smile became smaller and more honest the moment she tenderly kissed his forehead.

"Good morning," she said back, separating from him but using her hands to unnecessarily fix the collar of his orange polo shirt. "What are you doing here so early?"

"I woke up a while back," he answered, avoiding to get into details, "and since I was already awake, I decided to surprise you all with a special breakfast."

He went to the counter and took one of the plates and a cup of hot espresso, handing them to his sister.

"Here you go. To help you start the day."

Lori, her little smile always beaming at him like a radiant sun, ducked to meet his eyes and ruffled his hair.

"It looks great. I can't wait to try them," she complimented.

Lincoln noticed, despite the serenity of her words, new flickering gleams in her eyes.

"I'll go wake Lynn and Lucy up; I didn't get to do it. Thanks for being there for them, they definitely needed that," she announced, standing straight and grabbing her breakfast from his hands. "I'll cook your breakfast tomorrow, Linky."

"You don't have to."

"I'll do it anyway. You deserve it."

He made no effort to argue. Lincoln went back to work on the final details of the breakfast and, as he did so, the rest of his sisters started to come down to the kitchen, with reactions and exchanges similar to the one he had just experienced with Lori. Luan was the first one to approach him, and he almost poured all the hot cappuccino over them when she gave him a big hug that took him by surprise. Leni was the next, and Lincoln had to tub his cheek for five minutes to get rid of the macchiato-with-caramel-flavored double-kiss she gave him on his cheek as a thank you for preparing her said drink. The twins didn't take too long to come down as well, and he was cautious enough to wait until they ran and jumped into his arms before giving them the plates with their breakfast and glasses of orange juice. Luna wasn't nearly as effusive as the rest, but unlike her sisters, she decided to take the Americano he offered her and stay in the kitchen, sitting on the countertop so she could keep talking with Lincoln. He, of course, didn't object and enjoyed the pleasant and relaxed talk his sister offered him.

The last to arrive were his roommates for the night, Lynn and Lucy. Lynn came into the kitchen yawning and rubbing her eyes, with Lucy stuck to her side. Lincoln and Luna were quick to notice that the little goth was following her older sister as close as possible, whom didn't seem to mind walking with Lucy grabbing her hand, and instead was trying her best to make sure that her long, loose hair wouldn't go over her shoulders or face.

Both of them approached Lincoln, and Lucy barely broke her grasp on Lynn's hand to give him a brief hug before returning to shelter herself behind her sister. The young athlete, still groggy, threw a soft blow to his shoulder that he barely felt.

"You snuck up on me," she accused him with a smile.

"It wasn't easy; snuggling with you is like sleeping with a straitjacket," he said, getting a glass of juice for Lucy and a mocaccino for Lynn, just like she loved drinking every morning.

Luna chuckled, possibly imagining the tough thirteen-years-old secretly being the type of girl that likes to cuddle. Lynn, meanwhile, limited herself to glare at her for several seconds.

"Here you go, guys," Lincoln offered them, giving them their breakfasts. "It's the most important meal of the day, and today's going to be a great day."

"Why?" Asked Lucy.

"Because we have time, initiative, and a whole world filled with amazing opportunities for us to take," he explained. "Every day is a chance to seize the moment and make good use of the chances we're giving."

"If the TV's right, we'll be getting a cloudy day with lots of chances of storm," Lynn pointed out, flicking a hand towards the living room as she drank the first sip of mocaccino. "Oh, wow! This is pretty good!"

"Thanks."

"You're welcome," she added, waving her head to take a few locks of her hair out of her shoulders.

"So, dude, what happened to your ponytail?" Luna asked, her eyes studying her hair even as she drank her Americano.

Lincoln could actually sense Lynn getting tense. He detected her clenched jaw, he saw her cup shaking, and her pupils were narrowed and fixed on Luna.

"I decided to try something new," she replied, sneaking a look at Lincoln from the corner of her eyes, still giving a defiant glare at the rocker. "Anything to say?"

"Actually, yes," Luna said, letting her cup aside and jumping off the countertop.

She walked until she was just one tile away from Lynn, surveying her with a curious grin that was impossible to interpret. Her younger sister was frowning at her, her lips pursed and her chest puffed, trying to look bigger than she truly was to compensate the height difference between them.

Just when Lincoln was starting to considerate intervening to stop a female confrontation at the first hours of the morning, the strange grin Luna was wearing, halfway between teasing and funny, turned into a genuine one.

"You're rocking this look, LJ," she said with her raspy voice, lifting a hand to stroke a lock of her sister's hair. "It makes you look even prettier than usual."

Lincoln had attended to dozens of Lynn's karate tournaments, but he had seldom seen a kick stunning her as much as Luna's words did right then. Her puffed chest lost all the air it was containing, her clenched fists relaxed so much he almost dropped her cup of coffee, and she began mumbling words of appreciation that couldn't find enough coherence to count as proper sentences until she finally raised the cup to her mouth to take a big sip and hide her blushing cheeks. Lincoln smiled and gave Luna a thankful look, which was rewarded with a wink of her eye.

With the whole family now awake and with their breakfast served, Lincoln took his own plate and, accompanied by his three sisters, he went to the dining room, where the rest of his sisters sans Lisa were silently eating at the big table.

He sat at his favorite place, the head seat closer to the kitchen that made him feel more adult, and after a long while being awake without eating anything, he satiated his hunger with a big mouthful of his waffles. As he chewed in silence, congratulating himself for his impressive culinary skills, he scanned the rest of the table with a furtive glance. They were all eating, but half of them were looking at their plates with absent eyes, and the other half was trying to pretend that he hadn't caught them staring at him when they thought he was distracted. None of them was talking, though, and that bothered him.

All responsibilities fell on him. He took advantage of waking up so early to prepare them a huge, delicious breakfast, he made sure to cook their favorite dishes, make the eggs the way everyone liked them the most, the coffee types they all preferred, he welcomed them all with beaming smiles, a hug, pretty words to being the day… All served in a silver plate for them, and yet he was also supposed to be the one that had the guts to start a conversation.

He had to do everything. Make sure that they were happy, spend time with them, chasing after every single one to make their days better, to share time, to chat, to laugh, to cry. In his family, it was impossible to delegate any responsibilities to anyone else. Everything needed to be done by him.

He opened his mouth to ask what they thought about their meals, but he had to swallow up his complains and critiques when Lola sipped one last slurp of juice and cleared her throat, catching everyone's attention. The little princess, still wearing her comfy, pink nightgown, had her eyes closed and her brow pursed. Both of her hands were on the table, and she sat with a straight back and her chin slightly up.

No one said anything, waiting for her to make a statement.

"Alright, everyone, breakfast is delicious, but we can't keep ignoring the elephant in the room."

All eyes fell on Lincoln, who breathed in, getting himself ready to whatever Lola was about to say. The only one that didn't turn to look at him was Leni, who ducked under the table in the search for the proverbial elephant.

After a dramatic pause, Lola opened her eyes and tilted her head to look at the sister sitting in front of her. She jumped to stand on her chair and leaned her whole body over the table, like she was trying to crawl to the other side, and her whole face beamed with excitement. Her eyes were sparkling and her smile showed her gleaming, incomplete teeth.

"Lynn's trying a new look!" She sing-sang before letting out an excited shriek.

Lincoln blew all the air he held up inside, but no one noticed his relief, since the collective attention was now placed upon the girl with the scarlet face that was sliding down her chair, trying her best to just disappear from this world. Certainly, all girls had noticed that Lynn wasn't wearing her hair in a ponytail as she usually did thanks to that girly sixth sense that helped them detect those details. Maybe they didn't thought it was worth a comment, maybe they didn't want to embarrass Lynn, maybe they were too distracted or sad to really say anything, but now that Lola had brought up the issue, they wouldn't let it pass.

Lincoln witnessed not without a little pity for her how Lynn was suddenly bombarded with dozens of simultaneous questions. From Leni and Lola asking when could they give her a makeover, going through Lori and Luan questioning whether there was a certain boy she was trying new things for, ending up with Lana, who was asking with sad eyes if Lynn was now going to turn girly and if this meant she wouldn't play in the mud with her anymore.

"Never!" Lynn roared, hitting the table with her fist in such a sudden movement that a lock of her now-loose hair fell over her face, forcing her to blow a little air to move it away. "I'm just trying some new options, but let me be clear, Lynn Loud Jr will never stop being the toughest, most athletic, greatest athlete in Royal Woods and the whole world!"

"She told me she wants to learn how to polish her nails," Lincoln added, trying to stop himself from giggling out loud.

All his sisters erupted in sharp, stinging shrieks, standing up and effectively surrounding Lynn, who gave one last angry, betrayed look at her little brother before the chaotic mass of girls caught her. Lincoln couldn't help it, he began to laugh. As he did so, he noticed not only how Lucy was comforting Lana, but also how Lori whispered something into Luan's ear, who nodded and whispered something in return. After a few seconds, long enough to try to pretend that this wasn't related to that secretive conversation, the comedian approached her brother with a smile.

Lincoln stopped laughing and drank some juice to get himself together, giving his older sister a curious look as soon as she sat on the chair Luna had being using up until just a few minutes ago.

"What's up?" He asked, cutting a new bit of waffles.

"Are you going to be doing anything after this? I was thinking that maybe after breakfast we could try to continue with the project. What do you say?"

Oh, yes, his project. The best kept secret in the Loud house. They had advanced a lot in almost a full week, doing all the initial goals Lincoln had set in mind when he first came up with the whole idea. As long as he could keep working on it, however, he would do so, because even though he had already finished the most important and original part of his idea, everything that he could add would be a nice bonus, and he would often find himself thinking of new material he could add to what would, maybe, become his last gift ever for his sisters.

Leaving a good, strong, solid legacy in this world was something extremely important to him. His little monuments for which he would be remembered. He was looking forward to continue his project, but instead of answering right away, his eyes darted towards the rest of his sisters. They were all around Lynn, like a group of piranhas circling around their prey, their focus aimed not at pretending they were ok around Lincoln, but in mundane and inconsequential conversations about what type of mascara would best match Lynn's hazel eyes, or if French nails was the best way to introduce her to the world of nail-painting or not. They weren't pretending, they were legitimately excited, happy, distracted.

"Of course, Lu," he accepted, earning a smile and her hand cupping his cheek by using the affectionate nickname his sister liked so much, "but let me finish my meal first."

It was at that precise moment that Lynn agreed to spend an afternoon with Lola so they could both come to a compromise regarding her new look, and the loud cheers they all let out must had been detected at the International Space Station.

"I haven't enjoyed one so much in a long time," he finished with a smile on his face.

An hour later, Lincoln was standing in the middle of Luan's empty room. He had a bottle of water in his hand, from which he slurped desperate gulps to humidify his dry, sore throat. Talking for a long time would tire anyone, and considering how every word leaving his mouth had a giant emotional weight to them, it was no surprise that he felt his throat closing. He drank a little more water to satiate his thirst and to calm himself down, but even then he waiting a few minutes to make sure that his face was showing no signs of the intense emotions that were flooding his insides before going towards the door and knock.

Once, pause, twice, pause, once.

Someone was sitting on the hall, with their backs resting against the door, feeling the vibrations of his knocking going through the wood. Lincoln heard her standing up and carefully opening the entrance to the room. Luan's face peeked inside, her worried eyes and shy smile fixing themselves on the boy.

"Are you done?" She asked in a low voice, taking her left earphone off. It sounded like she was listening to a podcast, or maybe it was the radio.

"Enough for today," he replied.

Luan walked inside, found herself doubting for a second, gave him a quick hug he didn't have time to return, and then she turned away to remove all the pieces of rubber and newspaper that had been placed on the edge of the door to try to acoustically isolate that critical point. The thin walls of that room were the only ones in the house that had thick layers of insulation inside. It was a cheap insulation, like everything in the house, and Luna still managed to make every everyone listen to her music, but it proved to be more than enough so that Lincoln's long words didn't reach anyone's ears but his own.

They would all listen to it eventually, but not yet.

Luan, having finished removing everything, sheepishly turned towards her brother.

"So, you wrapped up for today."

"Yeah, I think. I don't know, I might add something later, but I think I'm good for the day. Where are the girls?" He asked.

His question had been absolutely innocent. He was simply curious to know if maybe one of them had tried to barge in, or if they were wondering why Luan was sitting outside her room with her back against the door and her earphones on. There was no malicious intention behind it, and he couldn't even begin to imagine what could possibly be wrong about it. That's why he was surprised to see the way Luan tensed before answering.

"Almost all of them are in the living room doing stuff," she hurriedly said.

"I see. Did anyone bother you while I was here?"

"No, no. The twins wanted to play with you, but I told them you were busy. Lucy also tried to sneak in, and she was hard to convince to not do it. Thank God Lynn showed up to help me, and since Luna was going out with Sam, they decided to take Lucy with them to buy the t- I MEAN! T-They took her to the m-mall. T-To buy, uh, stuff. I don't know what."

He blinked a couple of times, stunned. Luan's face grew pink as her water flower, and she hurriedly turned around and walked towards her desk, pretending to be looking for something. Despite his usual insight and cunning to solve mysteries Ace Savvy style, Lincoln found himself completely lost. What was going on with Luan? Why did she look so nervous all of a sudden right after he asked her about their siblings? She looked nervous, anguished, scared…

"Luan, are you alright?"

She kept checking her desk drawers.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm sorry," she apologized without looking at him. "I'm just… tired, I think. I didn't sleep well."

He crept closer, watching his steps as much as he watched his words.

"Have you…? Luan, you didn't stay up late watching videos of me again, have you?'"

She stopped inspecting the cheap card deck she used for her magic routine and let her hands drop empty to the sides of her body. Her head hang low, and even though she didn't reply, Lincoln had his answer.

"Look, I don't… I'm not mad," he clarified, extinguishing the distance between them to place a hand on his sister's back as the other one tried to weave its fingers with hers. "I'm just worried."

"You always are," she observed. "About me. About everyone."

"I am because I care about you. And listen, I'm not trying to say that you shouldn't watch them. We're all… we're all dealing with this in our own way, and if that's yours, who am I to change that?" He said. "I just don't want you to be like you were a week ago. Silent, not talking with anyone. Not sharing things with us. We're your friends, Lu, if you ever feel lonely, or bummed, or anything, just come to us. Any of us."

His sister turned around and they both look at each others eyes. His were filled with worry. Hers were soaked in sorrow. Luan raised her hands and gently placed them on his face, cupping his cheeks before leaning forward and kissing his forehead.

"It's so hard," she wept, almost choking with her own words. "All of this, it's just so hard. It hurts. And I know we're all the same. I don't to be a bother to anyone."

"You're not a—"

"I've always tried to deal with my problems alone. Maybe with Luna. But now she's just like I am, and unlike me, she can go with Chunk, David, Jason, Sam, any of her friends. I only have you guys, I just… I..."

She was adrift, her fortitude wrecked in a stormy sea of anguish, but whenever she needed it the most, Lincoln was always there to be her lifesaver, surrounding her in a warm embrace of restraint and affection. He leaned his head against his sister's chest and wrapped her in his loving embrace.

"We'll always be here for you," he assured her.

"I know, I'm sorry, I just… It's..."

She didn't find the strength to finish her sentence. She focused, instead, on her hands wandering over her brother's body, grabbing his hair, clinging to his neck, holding on to his back, his shoulders, holding him from everywhere she could in an attempt to feel him, to keep him from going away from her, fearing to be left even more alone. Lincoln could feel it in her desperate fingers, her panting breaths, in how she pressed her head against his, rubbing her cheek against his hair.

"And you're still going on with that crap," he reproached her, trying that the sternness of his voice wouldn't overlay the caring and worry that his words were clearly tinted with. "I thought we had made it clear that you're a wonderful girl and not an antisocial."

"You can say whatever you want, but the truth is I don't have any friends."

"You could, though," he said, backing away enough to look at her in the eyes.

Luna rolled her eyes, bit her lower lip and shook her head.

"It's as simple as just wishing it," she soft said. "I can't just get people to like me out of nowhere."

"No, but you could make an effort."

"You think I don't?"

She closed her eyes, made a grimace like if someone had thrown a banana pie that had been standing under the Sun for several days right at her face, and she moved away from Lincoln with a soft push. She moved until she was against the window, her fingers white with how hard she was holding on to the ledge.

"Don't you think I'd love to have friends? You think I'm happy being ignored by everyone, wishing every day that Luna won't be busy with he friends so I can have someone to sit with at lunch? I'd love to have friends, but I can't! Only the people in my clowning school want to spend time with me, and that's just as long as I have my clown wig on! No one wants to be my friend, I'm just an insufferable jokester!

She hit the ledge with both hands and turned back around, looking almost angrily at her brother. She opened her mouth to continue her outrage, but her words died in her mouth as soon as her eyes took a look at him. Lincoln was standing up in the middle of the room, his gaze fixed on her, with her body leaned slightly back, like he was afraid she would yell at him or something as he tried to come up with a way to calm her down.

She slowly closed her mouth and, with a defeated sigh, she walked towards her bed, where she let herself fall back facing up before covering her face with her hands.

"Look at me," she said, her voice escaping through her fingers, "whining and complaining. Like you didn't have enough things to worry about."

"Hey, I care more about—"

"Yeah, I know, you care more about us, I know, I got it," she interrupted him, her eyes filling to the brim with treachery tears. "That only makes it worse."

Lincoln massaged his temples before walking to his sister's bed. He sat close to her, although he couldn't help it to show her his back because of the position she was laying. Maybe it was for the best, because he needed a few seconds to get a grip and choose with words with criteria. He tried to think of a quick strategy to get out of that situation.

He thought about his hero, Ace Savvy. Not only he was the world's best detective and a vigilante feared for his dexterity and courage, he was also an intelligent man who always had a quick quip, comeback, or just the right words to get out of any predicament. The amount of fights he won with his fists were almost the same that he won with his wit.

If only he could be like Ace.

"I don't know why you're not popular," he finally admitted, his shoulders dropping and shaking his head. "I always thought of you as the most popular girl in school, the center of attention. I don't know why it isn't that way, and I'm sorry I'm just now finding out about it."

"No one knows," she said. "Luna's been suspecting for a while, but I always find a way to fool everyone. But even if you'd known about this, there's nothing you could do."

"Of course there is."

"Like what?"

"I don't know. Working how you talk with people. Making sure you're not starting conversations with an electric shock. Looking for ways to make people understand that you're not just a jokester, that you're someone that brings happiness and joy to other people. A smile-bringer. I don't know, anything that I could've done to make everyone see just how awesome you are. Anything to make everyone look at you the way I do."

Luan suddenly sat up and threw her arms around him, pulling him into a hug almost with desperation. For a long while, little did she care about what the rest of the world may think of her, because everything that she cared about was currently cradled right in her arms.

The call came at ten twenty-seven in the morning.

Lincoln was sitting on the couch right next to his father, or better said, against him. He had his feet on the cushions, and the rest of his body was leaning against Lynn Sr's, who was more than willing to let his son use him as a pillow. His left arm was surrounding Lincoln's shoulders, and his eyes were taking turns going from the screen to his son's excited face.

"Are you sure he's not super resistant or something?" He asked with a smile as the TV showed an episode of his son's favorite superhero.

Lincoln frantically shook his head.

"Ace trained for decades with the best martial arts teachers in the whole world," he explained. "He's an example of hard work and discipline. He doesn't need superpowers to be a hero. That's why he's the best of all, because he demonstrates that to be a hero all you need is courage and the will to do what's right."

"And millions of dollars to finance your secret Fortress and all the gadgets he uses to fight crime," his dad pointed out.

Lincoln glared at him before they both broke into laughter and he once again rested his head against his father's chest, listening to the soft beating of his heart.

After spending the first part of his morning with Luan, and considering that Lucy, Luna, and Lynn weren't home, he had thought that maybe he could spend some time with the twins, since they had been looking for him. To his surprise, however, both of them had went out with their mother and Lily to buy some "extra groceries". It wasn't normal for the twins to go with mom to buy anything unless they could expect something in return, but he guessed that maybe Rita wanted to keep them distracted. Lori had also left the house, but no one could tell him where she'd went, only that she was meeting with Bobby. Only Leni, Luan, Lisa and his dad were in the house with him, and when he reached the living room, he saw the latter first.

They weren't spending too much time together, since his sisters seemed to be always capitalizing his attention. As soon as he saw his dad sitting alone in the couch, with his shoulders down, zapping through the channels without really paying attention to what he was seeing, he knew that he needed to spend the rest of his morning with him right away.

He walked to the couch, asked him if there was anything worth watching on TV, and as soon as Lynn Sr told him no, he asked for the remote and sat next to him. He didn't receive any complaint when he put the cartoons channel, where they were airing "Ace Savvy: Dark Deck" the animated series based around the best superhero ever. He would've tried to catch ARGGH!, but they didn't put that show in the morning. Ace wasn't a bad option, though, and Lincoln was more than happy to answer to all the questions his father asked the moment the episode started. He thought that by now everyone in the family knew about all the adventures of Ace Savvy, since he would always spend days recreating them along Clyde, both dressed in their colorful costumes, but it was so funny to go over them out loud all over again that he didn't care.

They had seen three episodes in a row when the phone rang.

"I'll get it," Lynn Sr said, trying to stand up, but Lincoln stopped him.

"No, wait, this is the best part," he told him, pointing a finger at the screen. "I've seen this episode four times, let me take the call."

His father agreed and Lincoln dashed to the phone. He'd seen it four times, but that episode was so cool that he wanted to watch it a fifth.

"Hello?" He said the moment the phone touched his ear.

"Lincoln!"

The voice of Rusty Spokes received him at the other end of the line.

"Oh, hey Rusty," he greeted him, biting his lip while his fingers played with the cord of the phone.

Rusty was one of his best friends. After Clyde and Ronnie Anne, he was probably the one person he trusted the most and with whom he had the most fun. Every time the teacher decided to separate Clyde and Lincoln for their homework, he knew he could count on Rusty to hang out, work, and spend a good time between laughs and gossips. He wasn't as much of a comic book fan or a coin collector as Lincoln would like him to be, but he was a great friend and a very important person in his life.

Of course he should've expected a call form him any time soon. He had received a lot of messages from him and the rest of his friends and school mates ever since Monday, when the news about his condition had become public. He should've answered his messages. He should've done it, since he really appreciated his friendship with Rusty, but he had asked Clyde to tell everyone he knew that for the time being he only wanted to spend time with the people he loved the most —his family, primarily, but he also included Clyde and Ronnie Anne in that category.

He hadn't answered him because, first, he had too many messages from a lot of people to start answering them all, but also because a part of him didn't want t reply to those messages because he knew that talking with his friends would accomplish nothing but adding a new issue to his seemingly neverending list of problems.

"Hey, buddy," Rusty greeted, his voice suddenly less excited. "Eehh… How are y—? Ouch! Liam, what the heck?"

"You can't ask him that, you corn brain!" He could hear in the background with a southern accent.

"Yeah, Rusty, way to go," added Zach in a sarcastic manner.

"Ugh, just let me do the talking, alright?" Snapped a new voice, much more sharp than the others. Lincoln heard the sound of the phone going from one hand to another, a thud, someone letting out a big "Ouch!" and finally the same voice from just a few seconds ago, this time much sweeter and caring. "Hey Lincoln, it's me, Jordan."

Girl Jordan could also be considered a good friend of Lincoln. She wasn't part of his most intimate circle of friendship, but she was one of the few classmates that didn't seem to run away from his presence. She had been the first one of the girls to talk with him after the Girl Guru fiasco, and also the first one to tell him that what he'd done with his embarrassing video had been kind of cute in a way. She had even invited him and the rest of his friends to her pool party, and after the awkward way that had ended for them, she had invited them once again to another occasion with the condition that they would bring swimming trunks this time.

"Hey Jordan. How's it going?" He greeted her, trying to sound at ease, like this was an ordinary conversation, nothing unusual about it.

He turned to see the couch, and he looked right into his father's gaze. Lynn Sr gave him a slight nod of his head, but Lincoln didn't know what that meant.

"Uh, alright, I guess… Listen, I'm really sorry to bother you. Clyde told us that… well, that we should try to not bother you."

"No, no, it's alright. You're not a bother," he rushed to say. "You guys are my friends."

The other end of the line stayed in silence for a while, until she cleared her throat.

"So, anyway, we just wanted to let you know that we're all at Rusty's house, and we thought that maybe… well, you know… If you're not busy with something else..."

She left the rest of the sentence in the air, but Lincoln understood what she meant. His free hand released the phone cord in fear of ending up breaking it if he kept twisting it for too long, and his fingers instead found themselves drumming the surface of the nightstand.

"Shouldn't you be in school?" Lincoln asked, trying to ear some time as he gave his father a new look.

"We should, but… Well… We thought that maybe it'd be easier to see you in the morning. Look, if you're busy or if you don't want to see us we understand, don't worry about us. We just wanted to talk to you and tell you that—"

"Excuse me for a second," he said, interrupting her, leaving the phone aside.

He went to the sofa at a distrustful pace. Lynn Sr followed him with the strange combination of sad eyes and a reassuring smile.

"Hey, dad?" He sheepishly called him. "It's the guys. They're all at Rusty's house and they want me to go there with them."

"Sure. You want me to give you a ride there?"

"No, I… It's just… We're watching Ace," he said, dropping his head. "We're having a good time."

His father sighed and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Son, they're also important people to you. They're your friends. Go play with them."

"What about—?"

"Tell you what: I'll stay here watching the rest of the episodes that the network's airing and I'll try to remember them all," he suggested with a smile. "After dinner, we both can play an Ace Savvy trivia to see who knows more about these episodes. How about that?"

It wasn't the ideal situation for Lincoln, having to choose between his friends and staying with his dad, but the prospect of maybe keep talking about Ace Savvy later that evening was enough to make him smile.

"Do you promise me?"

Lynn Sr straightened his back and put a hand over his chest.

"Queen Guard's word," he said with best British accent. "Let me know when you want to go, but the sooner the better. They say there's a storm coming up later today."

Lincoln jumped into his dad's arms, and with the promise that they would continue sharing time together during the evening, he trotted back to the phone with some new found motivation.

"Jordan?"

"I'm here," said the girl's worried voice.

"You said you were all in Rusty's house, right?"

"Yes, yes, we're here," she confirmed, a lot more enthusiastic. She must have made some kind of gesture, because he soon heard the rest of his friends celebrating.

"Alright, my dad's taking me there when I tell him. We just need to wait for the van's motor to start up."

"Oh, don't worry, we told Clyde to pick you up by your house a while back, he should be getting there any minute now."

With a divine coordination, soon he heard the sound of an SUV's horn, calling him from the street. Lincoln knew that they weren't in a videochat, but he still gave the phone an accusing glare before rolling his eyes.

"Sorry, but we weren't really going to take a no for an answer," Jordan apologized, probably guessing Lincoln's reaction.

Clyde's dads drove their son and Lincoln to Rusty's house at the other side of town. That wasn't saying much, since Royal Woods wasn't exactly a metropolis, but the way there was long enough for Lincoln and Clyde to talk about their favorite moments in the episodes he had just finished watching with his father. They both loved the night vigilante, and even though they had exchanged theories and explanations about those episodes dozens of times, they had no problem doing it all over again.

When they were just a few blocks away, Clyde said he had something important to confess.

"I'm not supposed to tell you anything because we wouldn't know how you'd react, but I'd rather let you know beforehand and not let it be a surprise," he deadpanned. "Cristina asked us to come, and we said yes."

Suddenly, all the happiness that talking about superheroes brought to him vanished from his face like the small flame of a candle blown by the birthday boy and his whole family.

"Cristina, huh?" He said, turning his head to look through the window all the houses and trees they were passing by.

"She's really close to Jordan, their brothers go to swimming classes together," he hurriedly explained, "and the truth is she's taking this whole thing pretty rough. Ever since she found out about your thing through her uncle she barely talks in class. It's been two days in a row that she goes to school without her homework done. And… well, Jordan must have told her that we were thinking of hanging out with you because she sent me a message this morning asking me to let her come. I know your situation with her is complicated but—"

"Complicated is putting it lightly."

His relationship with her was much more than just complicated. Not too long ago it had been pretty simple: she was the girl Lincoln used to like, but she wasn't even remotely interested in having anything to do with him. He had fantasized about approaching her, talk to her, asking her out, stealing a kiss from her, be happy ever after. She had been, in all honesty, the first girl he ever fell in love with. Of course, he ruined all of the chances he may have had with her by trying to defend his sister's reputations, uploading to the internet a video of him so ridiculous and embarrassing that no one in school seemed to remember what stupid things he'd filmed his sisters doing. Cristina had switched some classes, she had sent some of her friends to tell him that she didn't want him to talk with her ever again, and she had been avoiding him ever since.

Pretty simple; an unrequited love. However, just a few days ago she had suddenly confessed that she had actually started to develop some feelings for him in the same way he used to have for her. Just when Lincoln had finally found in Ronnie Anne the girl that had stolen more from him than his lunch money, his old crush came back to haunt him.

"Maybe," conceded Clyde, "but really all she wants to do is to see you. And I thought you wouldn't really mind since you'll be with us anyway. If you feel uncomfortable I can sit with her and keep her distracted so she doesn't bother you."

"It's not that she bothers me," Lincoln said, looking but at his friend like he was saying nonsense. "It's just… weird, you know? A couple of months ago I would've given everything to have her talk with me, and now—"

He gasped and slapped his forehead.

"Clyde, I have a girlfriend!" He said, grabbing the young McBride by his shoulders and shaking him in all directions. "Ronnie Anne is going to kill me if she catches me even looking at Cristina!"

He could imagine his brand new girlfriend giving him the beating of his life if he made the fatal mistake of smiling at the girl he used to like.

"Ronnie Anne isn't coming," Clyde said, his ideas still setting in his brain after the shaking his friend gave him.

"What? You didn't invite her?"

"We did, but she said she needed to go with her brother somewhere."

"But Bobby's with Lori, why would they—?"

"We're here," Harold announced, stopping the car.

The answer to his question would have to wait, since Rusty's cozy house was now in front of them. Lincoln barely heard the farewells and last-minute-instructions that the McBrides gave them. He was busier looking at the window that visually connected the living room with the outside, where he could see Liam peeking at him between the curtains and making hand gestures for everyone else to join him. The last time he had seen his friends it had been last Thursday at noon, when he went to school to invite Ronnie Anne for lunch at the mall. He had seen them from afar, and he hadn't even walked towards them to say hi. And now he needed to face them all.

He was sitting right next to the door, so he had to get out of the car first. He stopped on the sidewalk and stared at the distance that separated him from the door to the house. If he had been able to tell the truth to his sisters, spending an afternoon with his friends shouldn't be a problem.

"Are you ready, buddy?"

He looked at his right. Clyde was standing aside him, his eyes fixed on him with decision and support. Even in such tough times, filled with sadness and pain, his best friend was standing in line for him, ready to follow him to the end of the world and beyond. Clyde would walk with him into Mordor should he ask him to. Someday he should thank Lynn for running away that Halloween, forcing him to chase after her in a sprint that ended with him crashing into Clyde. The dawn of an —unfortutunately...— life long friendship.

"As ready as I'll ever be."

Clyde gave him a smile, and both of them marched into the hostile lands of Rusty's home.

Before they could even ring the doorbell, the door was opened, and Rusty received them with an anxious look.

"H-Hey, Lincoln! Clyde," he saluted them, his eyes resting just for a second on Lincoln's chestnut hair before moving down tot he floor as one of his hands scratched his head. "Come on in."

Lincoln walked inside and, right away, he heard several gasps. He closed his eyes and forced a smile before opening back and turning towards the rest of his friends. Zach and Liam were at the front, exchanging quick looks between them, with their mouths wide open trying to get the words out of their throats. Girl Jordan was standing a little more to the side, both of her hands fidgeting with her long braid. She, just like Rusty, was also surveying Lincoln's new hair, but unlike her friend, she took some long seconds to realize she was staring before lowering his eyes and meeting his gaze. Ashamed, she turned her head in another direction before trying once again to look at him and give him a smile. Behind Jordan, as if she was trying to not be seen, Cristina was looking at him over her friend's shoulder, too scared or shy to properly greet him.

No one seemed to be interested in breaking the ice, so after a long, awkward silence, Lincoln cleared his throat and lifted up a hand, pointing his index finger at his hair.

"When I was born I had brown hair," he explained. "A year later or so the color drained from it. I just wanted to see how I would look today if it hadn't turned white."

He considered that it wasn't necessary to get into more details. His friends were all smart, they could make the connections on their own later on if they really stopped to think about it.

"I'm still the same guy. And I'm still here," he said, relaxing his shoulders and giving them a cheeky smile, "so get over the awkwardness and at least pretend that you're glad I'm here."

Like a bucket of cold water, his words shook his friends out of their trance. Liam and Zach came closer. There was a little awkward moment when they didn't know if they should hug him, give him a handshake or what, until he raised a hand and they, with shy smiles, hi-fived him. Jordan wasn't really worried about appearances or keeping things awkward, so she simply walked into him and gave him a big, strong hug, wrapping her arms around his neck. He accepted it and gave her back some comforting pats.

Finally, Lincoln turned to face Cristina. The redhead was still several steps away from him. Lincoln could see her fingers playing with the collar of her blouse, and her blushed face didn't know where to look at. Had it been any other girl, he would've walked towards her to give her a hug, since it was obvious that she desperately needed one.

"Hey," he said from the distance, however, barely acknowledging her with a nod of his head.

She replied back with some silent words, and Jordan walked with her to hold her hands. Lincoln turned to look at the rest of his friends, trying to ignore that little scene.

"So, what do you guys want to do? A Battle Royale? Some Dota?"

Liam and Zach turned their eyes to Rusty, whose face looked almost the same color of his hair.

"Eh, yeah, I guess… uh… Maybe… uh..."

And then, he elbowed Liam in the ribs.

"Ouch!" He complained. "What's yer problem, pal?"

"Say something," he said through gritted teeth, like that would keep Lincoln, three feet away from him, to listen.

Zach rolled his eyes and shoved him right into Liam. As both of his friends were complaining, the shortest of the bunch stepped forward, his fingers interlaced and his eyes fixed on his friend even though his head was handing low, with his chin almost touching his chest.

"What these two dummies are trying to say is that… we… all of us, and the rest of our class, we're sorry. We're deeply sorry."

"And we really wanted to thank you for coming here to day," added Jordan, still holding Cristina's hand. "We know you're… busy, and it means a lot to us that you still decided to come here."

"It's ok, guys," Lincoln soothed them, with an honest smile painted on his face, even though his eyes were struggling to contain emotions that he wasn't willing to let take control of him. "It also means a lot to me that you wanted to see me."

It wasn't in his plans to start their reunion with just another big monologue like the ones he had had with his sisters, but there were some things that he just couldn't keep for himself any longer.

"I've never had many friends. You all know I've done pretty stupid and embarrassing things, and that made a lot of people walk away from me." He stopped for a second to look right into Cristina's direction. "But you've always been there for me. You're all my friends. And you'll always be."

Clyde was the first one to step in and give him a hug, and after seeing that gesture, everyone else joined them. It wasn't common for him to find himself in the middle of such warm displays of affection outside of his house, and he allowed himself to enjoy the group hug. Everyone seemed to be in need of something like that to let out all their repressed emotions, because as soon as they broke the hug, he could see that even though their eyes still looked sad, their shoulders weren't as stiff as before, and they all looked a little more relaxed.

"You know, brown hair looks pretty cool on you," Rusty said. "You look totally handsome!"

"Everyone's handsome standing next to you," Zach quipped, making everyone laugh.

"What if we play something before we start fighting and hating each other?" Lincoln suggested, excited to being something that would distract his friends so they could all enjoy their time together without worries or fateful thoughts.

"Let's play Monopoly!" Rusty said before running towards his room, leaving everyone in the living room to exchange nervous looks between them.

If there was something that Monopoly was known for, it definitely was its legendary capacity to shatter friendships.

"Someone's spending a night in my hotel!" Girl Jordan sing-sang, pointing at the silvery penguin that had just stopped at a red square.

Everyone laughed and Clyde moved both of his hands to cover his face.

"Clyde, stop giving Jordan money, she's kicking our butts," Liam complained, emphasizing his words by pointing at the huge pile of properties their friend had.

"Why would he stay in your tiny house in New York when he can rest in my luxurious Kentucky Avenue hotel?" She contemptuously said as she counted the bills that Clyde had just provided her.

It was Lincoln's turn then to roll the dices.

"Defeat her, Lincoln, avenge my bankrupt, let my sacrifice not be in vain!" Rusty dramatically said, raising his fists to the air.

The aforementioned smiled slightly and threw his dices on the board.

"Eleven!" He celebrated, although his smile began fading away with every square he advanced until he finally fell right into prison. "Dang it."

"I have a Get out of Jail card!" Zach said, looking for the little orange card among his properties.

Lincoln looked up to his friend and the card he was offering to exchange with him. He frowned.

"And what do you want for it?"

The redhead fixed his glasses and checked the board.

"Uh… What about… I don't know, ten dollars?"

"Ten dollars?" Lincoln repeated, his eyes not leaving Zach for a second. "You're dead last in the game and you want to offer me a Get out of Jail card for just ten dollars?"

Everyone's attention was now put on Zach, who cleared his throat to break the awkward silence and lifted a hand over his chin, rubbing it for several seconds.

"Uh… how about twenty, then?"

Lincoln clenched his fist and teeth trying his best to not let everyone realize it. He breathed a couple of times before pulling off the biggest fake smile he could manage.

"I think I'll wait until I roll doubles," he told his friend.

"Are you sure? If you want I can lower the prize to—"

"Your turn," he interrupted him, grabbing the dices and handing them to Cristina.

The girl sitting right next to him rolled her dices, but Lincoln didn't care about how much she got, where she felt, or the subsequent negotiations. He was busy looking at his little side of the board. He was having a good game. Jordan was owning them all, but he was sitting comfortably at the second place, with some properties here and there, and even a Monopoly in the green squares. He was having a great game, but he wasn't happy at all.

This was the third time that one of his friends was offering a Get out of Jail card. The first time, Clyde had just given it to him for free, and he had admittedly accepted it with pleasure despite everyone else's complaints. Then, Cristina had also tried to give him one for free, but he insisted in buying it. She said she'd give it to him for twenty dollars, since at the time she was running ahead in the game and didn't really need anything. And now Zach, who needed money more than anyone else in the game, trying to give him a card for practically nothing.

Getting out of Jail cards weren't the only thing everyone was helping him with. More than once he had rolled out some bad numbers, and Rusty suddenly remembered a rule that said that if a dice landed outside the board he had to roll again, which helped him from falling in Jordan's hotel. Or Liam, acting like the banker, had accidentally given him more money a few times.

They were helping him in Monopoly. Monopoly! The last time they played it Zach had almost ran out of hair after fighting with Liam, and Rusty had injured his throat with how much swearing and screaming he made. It was an extremely competitive game that had the power and the capacity to topple friendships like a house of cards in a storm, and yet everyone seemed to be making an effort for him to win. They were trying to charge him as little as possible. They messed up in some very simple maths so he wouldn't be paying too much or to pay him extra. Liam had even once winked at him as he gave him an extra one hundred dollars bill.

They were all helping him for one simple reason: he was dying and they had pity on him. That was the only explanation. They wanted to make him feel good because he was a sick child, a kid condemned to die. They knew that he didn't have much time left so they tried their best to make him have some fun, winning a stupid boardgame, like that could actually make him feel better. Like if the happiness of being crown winner would last him more than five minutes. Like if that would make him forget that he would be dying before realizing it either way.

He didn't want that. He didn't need everyone to feel pity for him, to mourn him in life. He wanted them to make him feel alive, to treat him like everything was okay. That they would try their best to keep him distracted, to let his mind forget at least for a minute that he was walking a tightrope. Clyde seemed to be the only person in the planet that understood what he needed. Not even his family was bothering in trying to make his last days more bearable. That was the only thing that he wanted, that he needed. The only thing that he would ever ask for them if he could gather up the courage to do it, which seemed unlikely considering the little time he had left.

He was trying his best to stay calm and not let his anger leak out, but his performance must have left much to be desired, since Cristina startled him when she put a hand on his left arm.

After recovering from the small surprise, he turned to look at her with a mix of anger and indignation.

"Are you alright?" She asked him.

No, he wasn't. He wasn't even remotely close of being fine. He was starting to get anxious. He could feel himself getting dizzier with each passing second, he was starting to have troubles breathing. He remembered his incident that very same morning, and under no circumstances he wanted to go through it again.

"Don't worry about it," he answered, a little rougher than he needed to, but he didn't care. He shook his arm to get her hand off him and looked back at the board.