Their uncle's house had a lot of clocks.
There seemed to be at least one in every room. She supposed she would have to get used to it if she were to be living here with her uncle.
She meant her father.
She didn't know what to call him.
Although, she supposed he'd indirectly given her & her brother a few new labels. Inbred freaks was one of the nicer terms that floated through her mind.
Poor Lemy. It was the first thing she thought of when she found out. Poor Lemy. He had no idea what this truly meant for them. She'd heard of a few people having incestuous relationships in the past: Sam's little brother having a relationship with his cousin for one. But never this close.
Never siblings.
Never her own mother.
She'd thought of her mother as a free spirit, but never to this extent. But the more she thought about it, the more it made sense. She had never been with another person for as long as she'd known her. She'd overheard her having some sort of relationship with Sam in the past, but they'd never acted on anything for as long as she'd known the both of them.
She was fucking her brother.
The bile on her breath became the strongest scent to her. Everything disgusted her, everything sickened her. Left was right. Up was down. Everything she ever knew & respected about her mother & father, was a lie.
She felt betrayed.
How could she live with the man who fucked her mother.
It was pathetic. He was pathetic.
Which is why most of her time was spent hunched over the toilet bowl in in his house. She would never call this place home. As long as she had function in her brain she would refuse such a horrible reality.
The smell of the room was filled with the smell of her purged stomach contents, along with the hint of lemon. That fake hint of lemon that snuck into her nostrils as she heaved her emotions into the porcelain. Fake. Like her psychopathic father. Sooner or later he'll show his true colors. He'll show what he's truly capable of. This pathetic & depressed hermit act has to end sometime. Then, she & Lemy will make their escape.
Lemy was not faring too much better, although Lincoln wasn't helping the situation.
While Lemy's only interactions pertained to asking his newly found dad what his mother was like, Lincoln's only interactions with his son revolved around cooking a basic dinner for them & telling them which room was theirs. He decided to let them use his bedroom while he'd take the couch.
After he had changed the sheets of course.
He hadn't slept for three days.
He'd lay on the couch, thinking. This time, actually having his mind set on something. How much of a shitty parent he was going to be.
He could only imagine how much his children hated him. His son asking about his mother? Clearly, he was looking for ways to compare Luna to him. He would never be as good as Luna.
When he saw them for the first time under casual circumstances, at least in terms of regular clothing, they seemed to be exactly the same as her. A rocker's mantra could be seen from a mile away in the way they were perceived. He could never relate to them.
He was a nerd, through & through.
If he could hold a candle to Luna, it would be if he blew his brains out like Kurt Cobain. The way a true rocker went out. At least then they would get his life insurance.
It just made him want to cry.
He couldn't do it, but in the same vein he couldn't leave them at an orphanage. Luna would hate him if he did that. It didn't matter, the only thing that mattered is that they were happy.
In a strange way, he already loved them. They were the only link he had to his angel.
He would deal with whatever challenge came his way.
The rest of the night was a mixture of tears & unconsciousness.
Lemy felt strange when he woke up. His dad had asked whether he & Lyra were okay sleeping in the same bed while he cleaned up his study to turn into their new bedroom, to which Lyra immediately said that it would be fine. Lemy hated sleeping next to his sister, she was a very erratic sleeper.
She kicked him awake three times that night.
She was stressed.
Whenever she tosses & turns something is bugging her. He guessed she was still hung up about their mother. Actually, the whole reason he talked to his dad at all was because it's what his mom would have wanted. He could imagine her talking to him about it
'You gotta give your dad a chance lil' dude'
It was after he left their new bathroom that he found the man on the couch. He seemed in the zone about something. He realized that he was holding something in his hands. It all made sense why he was so focused.
He was playing a video game.
He couldn't bother him now, he knew he hated being bothered when he was playing his handheld. But it just interested him too much.
He had never played a TV console before.
Sneaking up behind his dad, he watched him. He had seen that kind of game before. It was an old one.
Lemy couldn't help but stay transfixed to the screen. How could anyone die so much & yet remain so focused?
Lincoln, on the other hand, was completely & utterly focused. But not on the video game. He couldn't focus on the super-soldier annihilating aliens, resulting in death, after failure, after defeat.
His mind was set on self-doubt. Doubting his own parental attributes, trying to deny any sense of duty.
Duty.
He needed to make them breakfast.
How could he be so stupid to forget about a basic human need. Just because he didn't have breakfast often didn't mean he had the right to deprive his children of it.
It was the moment he locked eyes with Lemy that he screamed.
Then Lemy screamed.
It was a miracle they didn't wake up Lyra, like God himself decided to intervene.
'Lemy!' He really didn't mean to shout. He unfortunately just forgot that he had two extra members living in his house with him. The little boy landed on his backside out of fear, something Lincoln found oddly humorous. If he was anyone else, he would have chuckled.
If he was who he used to be, he definitely would have.
'I wasn't doing anything!' He really wasn't. Strangely enough, it was one of the few times he wasn't up to anything. He kind of wanted to teach the man how to play.
He didn't seem that good at games.
And being the social butterfly he was, Lincoln didn't make any attempt to continue the conversation, & awkwardly walked away to make their breakfast. Kids ate cereal right?
Lemy, however, decided to continue his dad's progress. He'd never played this game before. His dad wouldn't mind right?
'Hey Lincoln?'
Lincoln felt a sort of hurt at hearing his name. It wasn't so much the name itself, but more who it was coming from. He expected this more from his daughter, rather than her much younger sibling.
Although, he couldn't blame him. He'd only really lived him for three days, & he'd only know of his father's existence for the same amount of time. It's not like he made any attempt to actually get to know him own son.
Something, in that brief second of thought, changed in Lincoln.
He swore, that he would be a father to these children. He would fail, he knew that for a fact. But at least he could die with a smile on his face, finally fulfilling his angel's unspoken wish.
'Yes Lemy?'
Lyra's dreams were oddly pleasant. It consisted mostly of her as a baby with her parents. Nothing more. Just doing simple things. Like her mother scolding her for chewing on something plastic, or sitting on the couch with her parents, just watching TV.
She felt… peaceful.
Until she got a look at her father's face.
Her uncle Lincoln. That… horrible man. Why was God punishing her? What had she done to deserve his wrath? This revelation was Unchristian & Paganistic for sure. Only the blasphemous & heathens had incestuous relations.
Right?
Needless to say, she woke up with a start.
Her sweat, dripping coldly from her brow, ran down her face and dripped onto the mattress. Strangely enough, the first thing she saw was the Cross.
There was a Cross. Hanging opposite the bed. A simple one, made of wood; most likely oak, judging by the texture & the color. A light beige, suited to the calmness of the house.
This confused her. She could have sworn the man would be a pagan, or at the very least an atheist. But…
A Christian? The Cross wasn't even inverted.
By the time she reached the bathroom, she felt like her world had changed color.
She felt filthy. Like her pores were soaked in tar. It already hurt her to think she was related to someone so dirty, let alone directly; but for that same person to be a man of God?
She spent roughly twenty minutes deeply scrubbing. Her once fragile pale skin, now a deep pink. To her, it felt like the slightest touch to her sensitive flesh would slice her open. Somehow, her tears managed to redden her skin more, if only slightly.
She looked down at herself as the water sprayed her scalp. She hadn't shaved anywhere since the accident, & it started to take its toll.
Lyra never liked body hair. She found it to be unruly & messy. Unwomanly, was her main reasoning behind it. Although, she did occasionally bring up the true reasoning to be that it was something to do with her mother.
Lyra always thought of her mother to be something of a tomboy. More so when she found out about her mother's shaving habits; she had none.
She wanted someone feminine in her life. So why not make it herself?
But now the hairs seemed to crawl up her skin like vines to a tree. It wasn't the best of situations, but in all honesty, she was too depressed to do anything about it.
In the end, she really didn't care.
Lemy was somewhat stunned at the revelation.
Here he was, thinking his father had some kind of disability when it came to video games.
He could not have been more wrong.
The had decided to battle each other the game. A one on one battle scenario where the one true gamer would reign supreme & lord it up all over the loser.
After the first few deaths, Lemy realized that his dad wasn't the invalid he had first taken him as & expected him to make the fatherly decision & let him win to let him salvage some pride.
Lincoln was not that kind of dad.
He was, in fact, the kind of dad who saw it fit to use his skills to wipe the floor with his offspring to teach them a lesson: never underestimate his father's skills at gaming. Ever. Again.
'It's a good idea to search for the "Active Stealth" power up' Lincoln stated, nonchalantly.
'You mean like this?' Lemy found exactly what his father was talking about.
Only to be shot by his father a split second after picking it up.
It was strange, despite having his ass handed to him on a silver platter, Lemy was really enjoying himself. He'd never had anyone to play with, other than Chunk. Even then, it was few & far between. He felt that not only had he found a gaming partner, but he'd also found someone he could learn a thing or two from in gaming. It was a win-win.
'Double Kill!'
He hoped he'd get used to the frequent deaths though.
Lyra had made her way out of the bathroom, sporting nothing more than a purple tank top, some cheap sweatpants, & blue socks. She didn't want to go out of her way to look approachable today, she just wanted one day, one simple day, where she could not think about anything & just be. Just exist for twenty-four hours.
'Your breakfast is on the counter, Lyra' her roommate spoke.
Breakfast? He made breakfast for her?
Peering onto the counter, she saw a bowl of chocolate flakes mixed in with berries. Not the healthiest option, but she supposed it was a nice gesture.
She shook her head. A nice gesture? She couldn't lose to this man. Lemy needed a proper home, he only needed her & her alone.
Peering over, she saw her supposed father playing a video game with her brother. As much as she felt like wringing his neck, his face had an air of familiarity to it. Like it was someone that actually cared for her. She remembered stories she had heard from her mother about her father. Caring, compassionate stories. He heard that he brought his sisters together often, as well as splitting them into factions. That concept always made her laugh.
Maybe she could give him a chance. Maybe.
Maybe just a small chance.
If he failed, her & Lemy could always leave.