On the afternoon of August 10, Lynn and Rita Loud disembarked their light and entered the main terminal of Los Angeles International Airport. They each had a single carry-on bag. They did not plan to stay long: They would make their case to Lincoln and Luan, and if they chose to stay, they would respect that. Lynn hoped they wouldn't; he wanted them home. How excited everyone would be if they came through the door with Lincoln and Luan in tow. God, when Lynn called them together and explained that Stone had found them, they lost their minds; the screams of delight still rang in his head. Even stoic Lisa let out a cry of joy.

Lynn looked around the terminal and saw a man in a rumpled brown suit standing against the wall and holding a cardboard sign with LOUD scrawled across its face. He was tall with broad shoulders, a salt-and-pepper crewcut, and bleary blue eyes. His face was hard. The face of a cop, Lynn thought.

Lynn took Rita's arm and nodded to the man. "I think that's him."

"Detective Stone?" Lynn asked as they walked up.

The man nodded. "You must be Mr. Loud."

"That's me. This is my wife Rita."

Stone shook with both. His grip was firm and dry.

"How was your flight?" Stone asked as he led them through the building.

"Bumpy," Lynn said. There had been a lot of turbulence over Nevada. Or what Lynn took to be Nevada. The deserts of the American Southwest all look the same from 40,000 feet.

As they made their way through the terminal, Lynn noticed an unusually large number of police officers and sexuirty guards. He pointed it out, and Stone chuckled humorlessly. "There was a big robbery a few days ago," he explained. "Guys got away with 25 million. Can you believe that? That's more money than you can spend."

Stone's car was parked at the curb. He opened the back door, and Lynn and Rita got in. "Where are you staying?" Stone asked as he slipped behind the wheel.

"The Marriot on Mainville Avenue," Lynn said.

Stone nodded. "I know where that is. Do you want to get settled before going to see Lincoln and Luan?"

Lynn glanced at Rita. The same thought flashed between them. "No," Lynn said. "We can do that after. We just...we want to see our kids."

Stone nodded. He knew how they felt.

The drive to the Oak Village apartment complex took nearly an hour and a half: Traffic was bumper-to-bumper on the freeway. "L.A. at its finest," Stone said as they waited. When they reached the place, it was four in the afternoon: Lincoln and or Luan were here, Stone noted, because the van was parked in its usual spot.

"That's theirs," Stone said, nodding to the van.

He pulled into an open slot next to it and killed the engine. "You ready?" he asked over his shoulder.

Lynn Loud licked his lips, his stomach suddenly knotted with nerves. Yes, he was ready; no, he was not ready. He wanted nothing more than to see Lincoln and Luan, but what if they didn't want to see them?

"Yes," Rita said for him, "we're ready."

"Alright," Stone said. He got out of the car and they followed him up a staircase. Lincoln and Luan's apartment was at the head of the stairs. The door was green. The number 112 was painted in white. Lynn swallowed hard as he approached it. For a moment, he stood there, terrified of what waited beyond.

He took a deep breath and knocked.

For a moment, nothing happened. Then he heard the sound of footsteps. His heartbeat rose and his stomach clenched. Rita's hand crept into his, and he squeezed it.

The door opened, and Luan was there. Her hair was blonde now, her braces long gone. She was a woman now, and not the little girl she always was in Lynn's memories. She saw them, and her eyes widened, flooding with...was it terror?

"Lincoln!" she screamed, and slammed the door so hard Lynn stumbled back, his heart stopping. He looked at Rita, and then to the door just as it was wrenched open and filled with Lincoln; Lynn noticed the gun in his hand and cringed. Rita let out a sharp cry.

"Whoa, son!" Stone cried, putting his hands out. "Put the gun down."

Lincoln, his eyes hard and his lips a tight line, scanned their faces. He hoped he looked tough, but inside he was scared shitless. After he and Luan left home, their parents hired a hitman to take them out: He tried to run them off the road in Nebraska and then tried to shoot them at a rest stop. Lincoln killed him.

"Get the fuck out of here," he growled.

"Lincoln..." Lynn said, hurt.

Lincoln shoved the gun at him and he fell back. Luan stood behind her brother, her face scrunched with fear. "You already tried to kill us once," he said. "It's not gonna happen again."

Lynn blinked. "Tried to kill you?"

"The hitman," Lincoln said. "The one who tried to shoot us."

"No, God!" Lynn said, "that wasn't a hitman, that was a private investigator. He was supposed to find you but he was crazy. We didn't know."

Something like hope flickered across Lincoln's eyes. Then it was gone. "I don't believe you."

"Honey," Rita said, "we're telling the truth. You can look it up. His name was Wayne DiRosario. He was a nut, he killed ten people before we even hired him." Her eyes were wet with tears. "Look it up."

Lincoln and Luan looked at each other, then Lincoln sighed.

"Anyone carrying a gun?" he asked.

Stone reached into his coat, and Lincoln swung on him, pointing the revolver directly at his head. Stone, impassive, took out his own revolver, grabbed it by the barrel, and handed it to Lincoln handle first. "Your parents have been waiting a long time to see you, kid." Lincoln looked at his mother and father. Tears shone in both their eyes'. "Can we come in?"

Lynn and Rita sat side-by-side on the couch. Lincoln dragged in a kitchen chair for Stone; brother and sister sat on the coffee table, his arm protectively around her shoulder. What could Lynn say? Where could he even begin? He didn't know. His mind was blank. A much larger part of him than he cared to admit thought this day would never come, and now that it was here, he was stricken.

"Nice place," Stone said, looking around.

"It's a dump," Lincoln said.

"No, it's cute," Rita said.

"You want something to drink?" Lincoln asked. He had tucked the gun into the waistband of his jeans.

"No," Lynn said, "we..." he trailed off. "We want you to come home."

Lincoln looked at him, his eyes narrowing.

"We were wrong to do what we did," Rita said, "and we're sorry. You can be together if you come home. You can do whatever you want, we won't get in the way." There was a desperate, kneading quality to her voice that hurt Lincoln's heart. He had yet to look directly into their eyes, because he could sense their pain. Seeing it directly would probably kill him. Even over the past two years when he believed they tried to kill him, he never stopped loving them.

"That's a given," Lincoln said, and pulled Luan closer. "We're going to have a baby."

Rita and Lynn both gaped. In his chair, Stone raised his eyebrows slightly but didn't say anything.

"Y-You're pregnant?" Rita asked.

Lincoln nodded.

"How far along?" Lynn asked, recovering from the initial shock.

"Eight weeks," Luan said.

Lynn's eyes darted to his daughter's stomach. Now that she mentioned it, she did have a little bit of a belly. He didn't notice it before.

A grandchild? The thought made him giddy. He could not lie, he wasn't not entirely happy that they had conceived. He hoped that they would take the risks of birth defects into consideration. Nevertheless, his mild annoyance was far outweighed by his joy. Next to him, he sensed Rita felt the same.

"That's great!" she said. "Oh, my God, a grandchild." She smiled, and to Lynn, it did not look forced; it was genuine.

"Thanks," Lincoln said.

"You guys have to come home," Rita said. "We can help you. Everyone misses you so much. It's been so hard on your sisters since you left."

Lincoln and Luan exchanged a sad look. "We miss them too," Lincoln said, glancing down at his lap. "Yeah," Luan said. "How are they?"

"They're excited," Lynn said. "When I told them Detective Stone found you, they all screamed so loud it nearly popped my eardrums." He laughed. "Even Lisa was shrieking."

Lincoln imagined his flat, normally emotionless sister screaming with joy, and smiled. He smiled even wider because he and Luan were the reason she did it. She would be nine now. God, Lisa was nine-years-old. Time really does fly.

"I don't know," Luan said, "we...we're used to being on our own now. We don't have a lot of money, but...we value our freedom."

"That's fine," Lynn said. "You can have freedom. We don't...we don't want to control you, we want you home." His voice broke and he brushed tears from his eyes. Lincoln and Luan both looked at him, their own eyes shimmering with tears now. "That's all we've wanted for two years. For you guys to come home. And now you're going to have a baby and we want to be there. Your sisters want to be there."

Lincoln and Luan looked at each other. Lincoln sighed. "I have a good job out here, though."

"You really don't," Stone said, startling the boy. He forgot he was there. Lincoln looked at him, his eyes narrowing.

"I know who you're working for, and I know what he's got you doing. Listen, Lincoln: Donny's a bad guy. A real bad guy. The last kid he had working for him wound up with a bullet in the back of his head."

Lynn and Rita both looked at each other, concern crossing their faces. Luan pulled slightly away and looked at Lincoln. Lincoln flashed back to the other night, and his brow softened; him holding a gun on innocent people, the woman crying in terror.

"What's he talking about, Lincoln?" Lynn asked. "Who are you working for?"

Lincoln, stricken, opened his mouth.

"It doesn't matter," Stone cut him off. "But if you ask me, you kids would be a lot better off going back to Michigan."

"Please," Rita said, and started to cry. "We want you home so bad."

For a moment, Lincoln sat where he was, unable to move. He looked at Luan, and he saw misery in her eyes. They were so caught in up their own happiness that they never thought how them leaving would affect their parents and their sisters. Lincoln imagined how they all must have felt over the past two years, and his heart broke. He got up, knelt before his mother, and took her in his arms. When he spoke next, he discovered that he was crying too.

"We're sorry," he said, "we're so sorry."

"I'm sorry," Rita said. "I was a bitch and I realize that now. I don't care about anything else, I just want you guys home."

Next to him, Luan hugged their father, tears streaming down her face. Lincoln reached out and squeezed his old man's knee. "We'll come home," he said, "we'll come home right now."

Rita hugged her son close and wept into the crook of his neck. The past two years had been hard on her, but it wasn't until this very moment, holding him, that she realized just how miserable they had really been. Having two of her children – including her only son – gone and lost was hell...a hell she never wanted to experience again. If they wanted, she would let them stay at home forever and ever.

Lincoln barely heard the knock on the door over the sounds of tearful reunion. He let go of his mother, smiled at her, and got up. As he passed Stone, he reached into the small of his back and handed the detective his gun.

At the door, Lincoln opened it.

A team of men in blue windbreakers and baseball caps were waiting. Three letters were written in yellow across the face of each hat. FBI.

His heart dropped into his stomach.

"Frederick Karen?" the man in front asked. He was slight with leathery skin. His eyes were hidden behind sunglasses.

"Y-Yeah?"

"I'm Agent Benson with the FBI, and you're under arrest..."