CHAPTER ONE

Introductions

This was definitely not what he had in mind. Seriously, this was the opposite of what he'd thought would be happening when Octavia had invited him to her family's Christmas dinner.

Well, she called this her family; he was pretty sure it was just a bunch of nutcases that all came together to escape some asylum somewhere.

He'd heard them all shouting and laughing and just plain running around in the house as they'd approached. The long driveway was full of cars, ranging from a beater that looked like it was lucky to have made it all the way up the drive to a Range Rover that probably cost about as much as the down payment on the house he was walking up to. The lawn was immaculately kept, with herbs—not flowers, but straight up medicinal herbs—growing along the sidewalk and garage. The house was well-maintained, looking like it had only just been painted the stark white with vivid red shutters. Hell, even the front door was a bit intimidating; the same color red, its doorknob was a shiny, polished bronze that made him wary of even touching it.

But he had to do this because, much as it sometimes drove him crazy, Lincoln loved Octavia. He wanted her in his life—forever—and this was a part of the package. Her family was her world, even if there was only one person that was her actual blood.

Bellamy Blake, Marine-turned-full-time-professional-bodyguard, was her older brother, the man who had raised her practically since birth and definitely since the death of their mother. He'd been a part of an experiment program for delinquents between the ages of eighteen and twenty-five, where—should they choose to go into the military instead of prison—they would be trained by the Marines and sent into battle with others like them.

Lincoln had even worked with the second group when he'd been in the SEALS, though he hadn't known the unpredictable group was some secret military test.

But that wasn't where it ended. No, this wasn't a Blake Family Christmas, where he would meet cousins or uncles or aunts or even a grandparent. Somehow—considering the stories he'd heard from Octavia, it was a very big somehow—Bellamy had made such close connections to those closest to him that he'd welcomed them into his fold and they'd become Octavia's cousins or uncles or aunts.

Except Clarke Blake neé Griffin, who had somehow fallen in love with the overprotective man.

She'd been the medic and, from the stories, the only person to keep Bellamy in check. She was a woman with morals, integrity, which was how she'd ended up there in the first place. When he'd been threatening to go over the deep end, Clarke had pulled him back, reminded him that he didn't have to be a monster.

And, really, it had been her to bring in everyone they now called family.

So now there was Jasper, Monty, Finn, Murphy, Wells, and Raven. The whole group. Which would explain the shouting he'd heard the moment he'd gotten out of the car.

"You almost killed me, Raven! That piece of shit belongs in some junkyard for scrap metal!" one of the men yelled, his voice rough as if they'd been arguing for awhile. "Does it even have fucking breaks?! Jesus!"

Raven responded in kind and Lincoln was pretty sure he heard something tip over—maybe a side table? It didn't sound very heavy, just enough for dramatic effect. "Talk shit one more time, Murphy, and I'm going to make sure your breaks don't work the next time you are going eighty around that fucking curve!"

Blushing, Octavia murmured a quick apology under her breath as she took his hand, squeezing it like she thought he would run away. "I would tell you this isn't normal," she started, glancing up at him from beneath the thick fall of her dark hair, "but it is. Just…please remember that they really are awesome. When you get to know them. Seriously, they are."

He couldn't help but smile, even though when he opened his mouth to speak, there was another shout from inside.

"Both of you, enough! Every goddamned day is the same argument and I'm done. One more fucking time I have to hear this, and you're both out. Do you understand me? Gone."

From the authority in his tone, Lincoln was sure it was Bellamy. He's pretty much everyone's dad, the way he polices everything, Octavia had once told him, and now he was sure of it.

There were snickers—probably Jasper and Monty, since he was pretty sure there'd been a whispered, "You done goofed," lost underneath Bellamy's barking—then a clearing throat. That was when everything went silent, so quiet you could have heard a pin drop on a plush carpet.

"Bellamy, enough." That was Clarke, definitely Clarke. "How are we supposed to greet Octavia's new boy—friend if everyone's on edge? No one's getting kicked out. We're all just overly excited; she hasn't brought anyone home since Atom, afterall."

Lincoln had heard the story of Atom, another of those in their group, the only one who had stuck with it after their sentence other than Bellamy. Octavia had told him that the poor boy had been caught in the middle of a firefight, that he had been the first to die under Bellamy's command. The whole group had been hurt by the loss, but he was more to Octavia. Her first love.

But there was respect for Atom in Lincoln. He might have been the first, the one to teach her what loss felt like, but Lincoln was going to be the last.

Before Lincoln could even try to comfort Octavia—she had obviously heard the mention of Atom, a wound that might never heal completely—the door in front of them was thrown open, two smirking boys—Jesus, were they even old enough now to be in the military?—standing in front of them.

"Oh, well, lookie here," the taller of the two, goggles perched on his forehead. Why the hell were they covered in soot? What did the boy even do for a living that had to do with ash? "The prodigal daughter returns, three hours late. I'm totally telling Dad that you two were macking out here, by the way," he added with a mischievous wink before he turned to Lincoln. Holding out his hand, he grinned widely, more friendly than he would have suspected. "I'm Jasper. You've gotta be the medical researcher we've heard so much about."

Taking the talkative one's hand in a firm shake seemed to bring the other—Asian with very intelligent eyes and an almost scary calm—to words.

"And I'm Monty. I'll back you guys up; no reason to give Bellamy a coronary before we've even gotten to eat some of the ham," he said easily, also sticking out his hand for a shake. "Besides, Clarke's only drinking non-alcoholic wine, so I don't think it's in our best interest to get anyone riled up. At least the alcohol would slow their reactions and give you time to run."

Blinking back his surprise, Lincoln sent Octavia a questioning glance, but she only rolled her eyes as if to say, "They're morons and you should ignore them."

Suddenly, they were ushered into the house, everyone talking over each other like they wanted to be the first ones to make the same stupid joke—there was even a brief disagreement over who said, "So this is the guy who won't be calling you back tomorrow?" between Finn and Wells—except for Bellamy and Clarke, who stood at the back of the group. The former was glaring with his arms crossed while the latter put a hand on his forearm and squeezed, like she was holding him back—or keeping him anchored.

There were a ton of fingers that he wrapped his around, shaking, trying to say anything over the constant thrum of conversation. Then Octavia was gone from his side, whisked away by her brother and he was left with the two that had answered the door.

It was going to be a long night.

-.-.-.-.-

"We're the only ones on your side, bro," Jasper murmured as he tugged Lincoln into the living room, nodding discretely to Monty, who closed the sliding doors behind them. Everyone was going to be too wrapped up in welcoming Octavia home, which meant they'd have time to warn the new guy what would happen throughout the night.

It was their job, afterall, to lull him into a false sense of security.

Lincoln opened his mouth to respond, but Monty cut him off. "Octavia means a lot to everyone here. All of us love her and all of us are more than capable of ruining your life."

If it wasn't true, Jasper wouldn't have been chuckling, putting his hand on the taller man's shoulder—good Lord, did the guy work out!—and pulling him to look at him. "Yeah, you see, the Marine's didn't teach everyone here all they knew. I mean, it's not like we were in there for stealing gum and skipping class."

Looking between the two of them, Lincoln spoke the first words he'd been allowed to say since he'd arrived. "You should know that I'm not afraid—"

"We know," Monty answered. A smile came to his lips as he recited facts like he'd rehearsed the scene in its entirety. "You were a SEAL—kudos, by the way, on all those medals—who took to it like you were born into it. Maybe it was the commune your parents raised you in?" The expression of shock on Lincoln's face only spurred Monty on more. "I know you've gotten that taken off your record—emancipated at fifteen is a pretty big deal—but I'm not just a hacker; I'm the hacker."

"Dude broke through the FBI's, CIA's, and the Pentagon's systems when we were seventeen," Jasper cut in. "We wanted information, we took it. Got sent off to become 'real men' soon after. I still managed to get the guy who gave me this"—he raised his shirt to show the scar he had that stretched from just below his belly button to his sternum—"before we were shipped off."

The tattooed man's eyes narrowed as he glanced between the two of them, the room filled with tension. It'll be worse if he acts like this with the others, Jasper reminded himself as a little bit of guilt rose unbidden within him. Finally, Lincoln spoke, sounding like he was reluctant to pick either of the two evils. "Fine," he growled, "I get it. So what do you have to tell me?"

Jasper and Monty grinned at one another. Oh, this was going to be fun.

"We're going to tell you everything on everyone out there. If you really want to make Octavia happy, then you're going to want to know this. All of it," Monty said, motioning for Lincoln to sit.

After nearly an hour—were they really surprised no one had come to find them?—the man looked ready to keel over from the information, shaking his head as he rested his elbows on his knees, his forehead pressed against his palms.

Jasper just chuckled, clapping a hand on the bigger man's back.

"Welcome to the family."