Lucy knew what she was doing; she was an expert on this sort of thing, even if she was too humble to admit it. Lincoln, therefore, followed her instructions to the letter and without question.

They started by the front porch, each tipping their salt container and walking slowly backwards around the perimeter of the house, meeting at the back patio. Next, they scattered salt in front of the doors and along the first floor window sills. Lana and Lola were holding a tea party in the backyard (an outdoor tea party in November? Really?), and they watched them with quizzical expressions.

"Uh, what are you doing?" Lola finally asked, crossing her arms haughtily over her chest.

"Making sure no ants get in the house," Lucy said.

Lola stuck out her tongue. "Good. Ants are gross."

"No, they aren't," Lana said. "They taste like hotdogs."

Lola gagged. "Jesus, Lana, you're sick."

Lana laughed and laughed.

"Don't disturb the salt," Lucy said, using her index finger to push some into the cracks along one of the sills. "Or we'll be infested."

When they were done, they went inside, Lucy to the basement and Lincoln upstairs. His mission was to scatter salt on all the second story sills, not an easy task considering all of his sisters were home and none of them particularly liked him just waltzing into their rooms and throwing salt around like the Morton salt girl. He started in his room, then went to the bathroom. With that out of the way, he took a deep breath and knocked on Lori's door.

"What?" she asked sharply.

Lori was the worst one about not wanting him in her room. Thinking back to what Lucy told Lana and Lola, he said, "I need to come in...we, uh, have a bug problem."

"Ew! What?"

Lincoln opened the door and poked his head in. Lori was sitting cross-legged on her bed, her phone forgotten in her hands. She looked at him with disgust. "Bugs?"

"I hope they're not spiders," Leni said from her vanity, where she was bent over a new dress design, her tongue plastered to her upper lip in concentration. "I hate spiders."

"It's ants," Lincoln said, "but, uh, maybe some spiders too."

Leni shuddered.

"I just need to put some salt on the outside of your window sill," Lincoln said, "it'll keep them out of your room."

"Fine," Lori said, bending back over her phone, "I would literally lose it if ants got in here."

Lincoln's eyes darted to the dirty plate and sticky, nasty glass sitting on her nightstand. If you were really afraid of ants you'd clean this place up once in a while, he thought. Instead of speaking, he went over to the window by Lori's bed, lifted the sash, and sprinkled salt along the bottom of the screen. When he was done, he closed the sash then went over to the window by Leni's bed and did the same thing. "Lincy?" Leni asked.

"Yeah?"

"Like...what kind of spiders?"

"None now that the salt's on your window."

Leni brightened. "Thank you, Lincy!"

"What are brothers for?"

In the hall, he looked around. Lisa's room, he decided, would be next. How could he con his second youngest sister? She was a literal genius, after all, and he was...well...not.

Although...

He went to her door and knocked.

"Enter."

Lincoln opened the door. Lisa was sitting at her desk, an assortment of beakers, test tubes, and other scientific equipment arrayed before her. "Yes?" she asked without turning.

"Uh...Mom needs you in the basement. There's, uh, some kind of, like, mold and she wants you to identify it or something."

Lisa sighed. "This goddamn house is falling apart." She got up and adjusted her glasses. "Keep an ear out for Lilly, please, she's napping."

"Sure thing," Lincoln grinned widely. When Lisa was gone, he looked at the window. Her lab was in the way. Damn it. Moving quickly, he dragged her chair to the side, climbed on, and leaned carefully over the table. He pulled back the blinds and sprinkled salt along the inside of the sill. It would have to do: If he tried to open the window, he'd probably fall onto the table, destroy Lisa's life work, and get covered in hot, corrosive acid in the process. No thanks.

Done, he replaced the chair and started out the door, but Lisa appeared and blocked his way. She looked annoyed. "Lincoln, you lying bastard..."

Lincoln smiled nervously as Lisa loomed forward, her fists clenched. "I, uh, I just wanted you to, you know...get some exercise...sitting at your desk all day isn't good for your back."

He started creeping past.

"Lincoln...I appreciate your concern for my lumbosacral region, but whether or not I develop chronic pain from sitting at my desk all day or not is my business and not yours. Go...read one of your comics or something." She shooed him with her hands.

"Okay, thanks!"

She slammed the door behind him.

Whew.

He stopped at Lynn's door, but decided to skip her for now. At Luna and Luna's room, he stuck his head in. Luna was sitting on her bed and plucking the strings of her guitar while Luan sat on her bed, a notepad in her lap and her head bent, her ponytail flopped limply over one shoulder.

"Hey, bro," Luna said, "how's it hanging?"

"Good," Lincoln said, "I, uh, I need to put some salt on the outside of your window sill."

Luna's brow furrowed and Luan looked up.

"Why do you need to do that?" Luna asked.

"Some home improvement project Lisa has in mind. I don't know. I'm just the grunt."

Luna shrugged. "Whatever."

He went over to the window between their beds, opened it, and sprinkled salt along the sill. "Hey, Linc?" Luan asked as he worked.

"Yeah?"

"Wanna hear a racist joke?"

Lincoln blinked. "Uh, not partic..."

"The KKK. Get it? They're racist and a joke!"

Lincoln forced a laugh. "Yeah, yeah, good one. Keep it up and by this time next year you'll be on Letterman."

"Uh, Linc, Letterman isn't around anymore."

Right. "Well...whatever they call it now."

He closed the window and hurried out. "Thanks, guys!"

Alright. His room was done, Lori and Leni's room was good, Lisa and Lilly were safe, Luan and Luna...that left Mom and Dad's room and Lynn and Lucy's room. Oh, and Lola and Lana's He went to his parents' room and tried the handle, but it was locked. Really? They lock their door? Come on, we're not that bad!

Whatever. He sprinkled salt along the bottom of the door and ground it into the carpet with his foot so that it wasn't too obvious. He went into Lola and Lana's room, and was relieved when he saw they weren't in. He hurriedly lifted the sash of both windows and put salt along the sill. In the hall, he put his hands on his hips. Okay, so...

"Hey, Linc."

Lincoln jumped and let out a girlish scream, spinning in midair and balling his fists, fully expecting a horrible thing with ram's horns and a horse face (dressed like a bishop, maybe) to be waiting for him with hungry eyes.

It was only Lucy.

"And I was starting to think you were getting used to me," she teased.

"Uh, I'm just...jumpy."

"Yeah, me too," she sighed. She glanced over her shoulder at her door, which was still tightly closed. "Is Lynn in there?"

"I think," Lincoln said. "I haven't seen her. What's your plan?"

Lucy looked at him. "Well..."

When she was finished, he shook his head. "I don't think that's going to work."

"Which part?"

"The part where we have to hold her down."

Lucy nodded in acquiescence. "It's not the best plan, but do you have a better idea?"

Lincoln rolled his eyes up to the ceiling and thought for a minute. "Actually...yes, I do."

"Let's hear it."

He told her, and she nodded. "It might work. Stay here."

She disappeared down the stairs, then came back with a glass. She went into Lincoln's room, grabbed one of the water bottles, and filled the glass half way. Lincoln watched, his arms crossed. "Alright," she said, "let's try."

They went to Lynn and Lucy's door, Lincoln's heart beginning to race. If what Lucy suspected was true, Lynn would be even worse than she was this morning, and she was kind of a bitch this morning. It wouldn't surprise him if she tried to whack one of them with a baseball bat.

Lucy's face was expressionless, but he could sense that she was nervous too. He squeezed her shoulder and she smiled at him.

She turned the knob and opened the door.

When Lincoln saw Lynn, he gasped.

She was sitting on her bed with a baseball clutched in her hand. Her face was covered in acne...literally covered. Her cheeks, her forehead, her chin, the tip of her nose. There may have been some on her upper lip, he didn't know, because her upper lip was covered in thick brown hair. If it was on its way to being a mustache earlier, it was a mustache and then some now. She looked up, and a dark shadow crossed her face. "What do you two assholes want?"

"We thought you might be thirsty," Lucy said, holding the glass up.

Lynn snickered...then, so quick it was a blur, she wound up and threw the ball: It hit the glass and it exploded, splattering both Lincoln and Lucy with shards and water. Lucy cried out and Lincoln recoiled.

"Get the fuck outta my room," Lynn said darkly. "Lucy...come back later and get your shit. You can stay with your little boyfriend." Lynn fixed her gaze on Lincoln. "And when you want a real woman, come see me."

Lucy pulled the door closed and looked at Lincoln. When he saw the blood in her hand, his stomach turned. "Lucy..."

"That didn't work," she said evenly.

He grabbed her wrist and examined her palm. A glass shard had sliced her down the middle. It wasn't very deep, but it was seeping steadily.

And it was his fault.

His heart clenched. "C-Come on. Let's get that cleaned up."

In the bathroom, Lucy sat on the closed toilet lid while Lincoln rummaged in the medicine cabinet. He took out a cotton swab, some gauze, a tube of Neosporin, a roll of medical tape, and a bottle of alcohol. He knelt in front of Lucy and took her hand in hers. "It's not that bad," she said. "You act like I'll get gangrene."

He shrugged. He pressed the cotton firmly against her hand and held it. He stroked her knuckles with his fingertips and sighed. "I'm sorry. This is my fault. We should have stuck with your plan."

"Eh. Shit happens. I'm just glad she didn't throw it at one of our faces."

"She could have," Lincoln said lowly and bowed his head. An image of Lucy with a broken nose or worse flitted through his mind, and tears welled in his eyes.

"Hey," Lucy said, and touched the side of his face. He looked up at her, and she was wearing an inscrutable smile. "You know what, Lincoln?"

"What?"

"You're a mystery to me."

"Me?"

She nodded. "You. You're beautiful, kind, caring, intelligent...handsome – " here she blushed – "and yet you're so hard on yourself. Why?"

"Well, it's my fault..."

"Lincoln..."

"It is."

She sighed. "I love you, Lincoln."

"I love you too."

"Stop being so hard on yourself. You're perfect."

A blush touched his cheeks. "No, I'm not."

"Yes you are."

He took the swab away. The bleeding had stopped. He grabbed the bottle of alcohol, unscrewed the cap, and poured a little bit onto the wound. She hissed. "I know it burns," he said, "sorry." He squirted some Neosporin onto the tip of his index finger and rubbed it on the cut. Next, he pressed the other cotton swab to it and wrapped it in tape. "Flex your hand."

She did. Her movement was limited, but not by much.

"There you go."

She grinned. "Thanks, Lincoln."

She leaned forward and planted a chaste kiss on his lips. "You're perfect, whether you think so or not."

"Thank you," he said, and patted her leg. "Now...how the hell are we going to do this? Lynn's a monster."

"Well...we're going to need help. Someone who's big and strong."

"Who do we know like that?"

Five minutes later, they were standing by Luna's bed. She wasn't what he had in mind when Lucy said 'big and strong' but she was certainly bigger and stronger than the both of them combined.

"So..." she said uncertainly, "you want me to what?"

Lucy sighed. "Hold Lynn down while we pour water down her throat."

Luna snickered. "Alright, Guantanamo, I'm gonna have to say no to that one. Sorry."

"It's really important," Lincoln pled. "It's a matter of life and death."

Luna sat up straight. "Why?" she asked. "What's this about?"

Lincoln and Lucy looked at each. "Should we tell her?" Lincoln asked.

"Tell me what?"

Lucy shrugged. "I guess we have to." She looked back at Luna, took a deep breath, and told her everything. She crossed her arms and furrowed her brow, but didn't say anything until Lucy was done.

"You guys are crazy."

"I know how it sounds," Lincoln said, "but we're being honest. I swear. We have to do this or Lynn might d-die."

Luna watched them with incredulous eyes, then sighed. "Let me see this holy water."

Lucy left, then came back with one of the water bottles. Luna took it, unscrewed the cap, and brought it to her nose. She closed one eye and squinted in. Then she raised it to her lips and took a drink.

"Tastes like regular water to me," she said, putting the cap back on and handing the bottle to Lucy.

"That's because you aren't under a demon's cursed spell," Lucy replied flatly.

Luna tossed one shoulder. "I guess" She searched their eyes. She didn't see deceit, she didn't see mocking laughter. They looked scared. And honest. She sighed. "Alright, fine, I'll help."

"Thank you so much," Lincoln said.

Luna nodded. "So...how are we going to do this?"

"Only one way," Lucy said with a shrug. "We just do it."