IMPORTANT CONCERNS. I've found out that the last bits of interest I've had for this fic are spiraling down the drain. I am considering (and most likely am) abandoning this story. All that's left is for one last chapter (22) and then I'm never addressing this story ever again. Unless there is someone who is willing and capable enough to keep the story going. If you are, then PM me and we'll talk. Even though I'll be ending the story, there are still some things that I want added into the fic and a certain way for it to end. If I am not informed that anyone will be taking on the fic, then a week after chapter 22 is posted I'll be posting a new chapter (23), where it will show a general summary of the ending in bullet points from where we left off. I'll be going back to one-shots. Sorry but not sorry.
The setting sun was beautiful. The orange and purple that filled the sky were that from a dream. A final moment worth remembering. The clouds reflected the warm, orange colors of the tired sky. And in that same glow, the world basked in the light.
Lincoln was dropped off outside his home. Francis told him to take it easy and drove off with fear and great unease.
Lincoln looked at the fading car going further and further into the distance. The dry, scratchy paint was irritating. The tires were worn and smudged. The left door was slightly more open than the right and the popping and rattling of the engine were that of gunfire.
Lincoln's feet sunk into the soft grass. His eyes turned to the disgusting sight of his home. In his mind, every inch of wood served its purpose. Every memory played again and again. Every passing moment was another opportunity lost. He needed to go inside. He needed to see Lynn and make sure she was okay.
His bandages tightened.
With a grunt, Lincoln marched on. His iron feet crashed onto the concrete floor. Something pressed him down. His head was full and his walking was drunk.
Making it to the door was the most unbearable task but when he did, he leaned his weight on the slick wood. His head pressed against the wooden door, one hand on the knob and another keeping his balance. He took slow breaths and tried to take it easy. His chest burned with shame. The pain was dulled by grievance.
He can't be like this, he thought. They can't see him like this.
Lincoln took a deep breath, filling his lungs with fresh air. He watered his dry mouth and prepared himself. He straightened himself out and opened the door. He tugged with great force as if he was about to rip the metal bolts from its hinges, but the door slightly opened and he slipped through.
He was met with an eerie silence. Normally, he would at least hear the twins screaming at each other or Luna playing with the radio. He looked to the living room and saw Lucy on the floor with a book. And at the same time, she lifted her head and saw Lincoln.
"Where is everyone?" Lincoln asked.
"Groceries," Lucy replied, never taking her eyes off her brother. "Leni and Lynn are in their rooms. Everyone else should be back soon, so don't feel so lonely, okay?"
"Um, okay." Lincoln was surprised by Lucy's change of pace. The sudden attempt at empathy was a little… different. "Thanks," he finally added. Without another word, Lincoln makes his way upstairs.
When he got to the second floor, he cautiously looked both ways before going to his room. He passed by Lynn's room slowly and diligently. Every step was careful and calculating. He actually feared that she might jump out of her room and attack him.
But it's okay, he just needs to go to his room and sleep. It's been a rough couple days and the last thing he wants is another bleeding body. His bed was calling him. The Sandman and his inviting spell sounded like bliss compared to the alternative.
Lincoln reached for his door but stopped himself. He was about to go in but he stopped and turned. His eyes landed on Lynn's room.
He needs to go see her. He needs to, he needs to. Lynn is hurting and he's the only one that can help. His chest ached. His fist clenched and his stomach felt empty.
With a newfound bravery, Lincoln marched over to Lynn's door and stood there. He reached for the knob with an eager hand but he quickly pulled away. No, no. He can't just barge in there. She'd get mad. Maybe he should wait and talk to her tomorrow.
Lincoln shook his head. No! His fear was getting the better of him. He needs to be there for her, now. He looked at the knob. He needs to talk to her. She needs help. She's hurting and it's all his fault. An electric shock ran through his body. His hands clenched and his eye twitched.
Without any remorse, he grabbed the knob and flung to door open. The room looks cold. A shade of dark blue dripped from the air. The atmosphere was tense and everything came as gloomy.
His eyes landed on Lynn. She was lying on her bed with her face buried into the firm mattress. As if on cue, she lifts her head and turns.
Their eyes meet and the world crumbled around them. Their shoulders grew heavier and their hearts stopped. Fear in Lynn's eyes, and awkwardness in Lincoln's.
Lynn's face grew pale. She gasped and called his name. Lincoln doesn't make any effort to reply. He looks down at his feet and gently closes the door. He unconsciously locks the door and then the two are left in complete silence.
Lynn fixes her body, she moves around and finally decides to sit on her bed. She shoots glances at Lincoln then to the floor. She opens her mouth to speak but is mute. After a minute, Lincoln finds the courage to start but not enough to lift his eyes off his feet.
"I-I'm not mad," his voice was just above a whisper but Lynn heard it clearly and proudly. His voice was gentle and tender. Any hint of hostility was non-existent. His tense shoulders and fidgeting legs displayed his struggling attempt at making the right moves.
Lynn felt terrible. She hung her head and stays quiet. The tears behind her eyes burned. She used every bit of strength to keep her calm.
Lincoln sighed and added, "I know you're probably kicking your own ass but… I understand why you did what you did."
Lincoln shot a quick glance at Lynn but she kept her eyes hidden. He continued.
"I know you don't like what I am or what I'm doing but you have to understand. I'm doing it all for this family." Lynn kept quiet. Lincoln called her but got no reaction.
"Lynn, look at me." He commanded. Through great hesitation, Lynn managed to lift her head. Her eyes barely met her brothers. She looked scared, timid and weak. It hurt Lincoln.
"I never wanted you to find out. I know you only worry about me but I know what I'm doing, Lynn. And I'm sorry." Lincoln's throat was dry. His chest felt shallow and his mind was empty.
Lynn teared up. Her tortured face was full of sorrow and regret. She looked up at Lincoln. Her eyes were wide and hopeful.
"I'm sorry," she mumbled through her tears. "I-I didn't-"
"It's okay," Lincoln added. "I'm not mad. I'm not." Lincoln took a couple steps forward and opened his arms. He smiled and waited. Lynn giggled a little. She brushed away the tears from her eyes. She took a quick breath through her stuffy nose. She got up from her bed with a joyous spring.
Lynn buried her face in her brother's chest and wrapped her arms around him. He did the same.
Lynn didn't know how she'll deal with Lincoln's… hobby. But it didn't matter. For the moment, she was happy. Lynn hugged him tighter as if in the next second he'd disappear. Lincoln felt a jolt of pain. He jumped a bit. His body ached and his warm blood ran over his cool wounds.
Lincoln tightened his grip. Lynn took note but didn't care. The warmth of his body was addicting. She didn't want to let go. That was until Lincoln tightened his grip some more. Her chest felt tight. Breathing was tough and moving was impossible.
Her back felt like her spine was going to split in two. The small of her back was bent and her chest was pressed against Lincoln's. She felt like she was being squished. She tries stepping away but she couldn't.
Lynn calls Lincoln's name but he ignores her. She placed her hands on his chest and tried to push away but it was futile. She only got enough room to breathe. Her heart starts to race.
In a quick second, Lincoln pushed her with a newfound strength. She fell back into her bed with a high yelp.
Lincoln acts quick. He moves between Lynn's legs and wraps his hands around her throat. He began to squeeze. Lynn's heart jumps, then she starts choking. Her eyes grow wide. She wraps her hands around his and tries to pry them away. Breathing was becoming difficult.
Lynn tried to kick but Lincoln stayed close. She grabs his wrists and tries to shake them away. She digs her nails deep into his soft skin. His dark eyes and sinister face go unchanged.
She mouths something but even she doesn't know what she said. She tried to scream. She sunk her nails deeper into his wrists. Something hot and oozy ran down her fingers. She looked and it was tiny bits of blood.
Her eyes grew hazy. Her head felt full. Her face was blue and her will was fading. Lynn thought quickly. She swiftly brought her legs back as far as they would go. She placed her foot on Lincoln's stomach and kicked.
Lincoln grunted but his hands were fixed.
Lynn, with her other leg, brought her leg up. She drove her knee into his stomach. Lincoln hissed and back away. His deadly hands left a red ring around Lynn's neck. She placed a gentle hand over her throat and took in breaths of fresh air. She coughed as the burning air filled her lungs. Hot tears ran down her face, blinding her with a blurry look of everything.
Before she realized it, she was looking at Lincoln with great fear. She met his gaze. His eyes were sharp and his nose was scrunched. He was huffing and puffing. His fists were clenched and his shoulders were stiff. Lincoln wore a look of disgust. Everything about his looked deadly.
Lynn crawled to the corner of her bed and quivered.
Flashing memories of that dreaded night filled Lincoln's head. The gunshots on that dreadful night felt fresh now. The blood that slipped on the earthly ground and the same blood that ran through his body boiled with hate and failure.
Just a little closer. Just a little longer and she would've been dead. But he fucked up. He fucked up. He fucked up. No, no. It's fine.
Lincoln forced himself to calm down. Through his teeth, Lincoln muttered, "Don't you ever try doing anything like that again, got it?"
Lincoln left the room, not expecting a reply. He went to his room. The sound of his door closing sounded like a threatening slam to Lynn's ears. Lynn was on edge for the entirety of the day. And she couldn't even bring herself to sleep at night with fear.