Lemy was dumbfounded at the revelation of his father.

On one hand, he was overjoyed that he actually had one.

On the other however, he had so many questions. Like why he abandoned them? How did they meet? Why did he live alone? Why had he abandoned them?

Thinking about it gave Lemy some of the worst headaches.

And another thing; he had a completely different musical taste to their mother's. It was really weird listening to Classical, Reggae & Alternative, when growing up with someone like Luna, one would have their tastes hard wired to Metal, Punk & Grunge. At least he listened to the Foo Fighters.

Lyra kept on saying that their father was like an everyman main character in a Horror novel; Lemy had no idea what that meant, but he could assume it meant nothing good.

But if he was being honest with himself, & Lyra (although he'd try not to, lest she lose her mind), he liked his father. He thought he was really weird for sure, but he wasn't a bad person. Just really really quiet.

If he wanted to get anywhere with him, he'd have to be the one to start their interactions.

It had been five days since they'd shown up on Lincoln's doorstep, & the only real interactions besides video games was him telling them they'd need to start school sometime soon, & that included interactions at meals. He was a very quiet man indeed.

This got Lemy thinking. School? He knew of it, & Lyra was always the one to tutor him, if one of the band members wasn't available anyway. It was always home school, never real school. He couldn't imagine a day where he was with thousands of strangers, being taught by another stranger. He might have an panic attack or something. Lyra's had a few of those, & if he knew anything, it was stress related.

He didn't want to panic that much. God forbid he start yelling like Lyra did.

It was in August, just three months before their mother faced her horrible fate.

And Lyra was losing control.

Lemy had spent the past hour calming her down, telling her everything was fine. Their mother was just on a longer bender than usual. She was screaming about death & how she was dying. It didn't look like she was dying, just that she was wailing a lot.

It was then that he received a heavy hit.

Heavy may be a bit of an overstatement, but it was enough to knock Lemy to the floor, resulting in a somewhat visible black eye. Lemy thought it looked pretty cool, but he was a bit stupefied as to why it was called a black eye. It looked more purple than anything.

Eventually Lyra calmed down, although it was another fifteen minutes before she did. She sort of just passed out, no fanfare at all. He assumed it was all the shaking she was doing that caused her to pass out. If it were him, he'd probably be tired too.

So, for the next two hours he listened to his music player, the sound of a high pitched man screaming about teenagers flooding his mind as he drifted off into oblivion.

That was, until he awoke to an even higher pitched scream. Surprisingly, despite his mother's raspy voice, she could still supply a feminine scream. He didn't like hearing his mom scream.

The events that followed involved his mom & sister fawning over him, the latter apologizing profusely to him & chastising their mother for making her worry.

Their mom said she'd try not to do it again.

Ironically, she held up to her promise. Until…

Lincoln found his son crying on the couch, tears streaking out of his eyes as he lay asleep on the brown felt.

'Hey bud, you good?' he debated within himself whether it was a good idea to shake him awake. He decided that, despite their beginnings of a positive relationship that it would be best to not touch him. Not just yet.

Lemy, being the light sleeper he was, woke with a startle, looking up this his odd jumble of relations that was both his father & uncle.

'L-Lincoln?' he spoke wearily. He tried to hold back his croaky voice as he sat with the TV screeching static at him. He must have been watching a movie or something.

'You okay Lemy? You look like you're having a rough time…' his father sat next to him, facing forward, not feeling totally comfortable dealing with those emotions.

Lemy touched his face, feeling the warmth of liquid running down his face. He hated looking like a pussy. He was a man for God's sake. He quickly rubbed away the tears, an unfortunately futile attempt as they still kept running. Lincoln knew what he was doing; it only felt like so long ago that he was in the same position when his Pop-Pop died. He felt a melancholy smirk take his face.

Lemy noticed this & punched him in the side.

'Ow! Lemy what the he-'

'What's your problem? You think you can smile at a time like this? My mommy's dead! An-And you're just here smiling! If you can th-think that you'll just take over her spot & be my dad… then-'

He was dumbfounded to find that his father had wrapped his arms around him, enveloping him into an embrace. It was strong, firm, & undeniably fatherly. Lemy hated how much he felt loved. It was a spot only suited to his mother. So, he did what he felt he had to do…

He kept hitting.

He hit his father's back. He hit his sides. He hit his ribs & his arms. Both of them knew he could go for his more vulnerable area, but he never went close to his nether regions. Eventually, the hits slowed down, being replaced by more frequent sobs, until all that could be heard was full blown crying. His wails could be heard across the hall to the other apartments. Lincoln didn't honestly care, he'd deal with the complaints when the time came. For now, he was going to care for his little boy.

Lemy's tears stained Lincoln's Grey & Yellow T-Shirt, but he didn't care. At least not right now. As for right now, he needed this paternal love. So for once he'd be a real man & swallow his pride. He may have just ruined his relationship with his dad, but he'd do his best to salvage it.

He was his dad after all.

Lyra, watching from afar, had been stunned. The very moment Lemy had hit him, she thought her prayers had been answered. She thought that Lincoln had finally blown his chance & her & Lemy would be on the first bus to wherever Lincoln wasn't.

But in a swift change of pace, Lincoln had not punished Lemy, or even hit him, which is what she would have expected from her father. But he had hugged him. And after fighting for thirty seconds or so, Lemy was hugging back.

'I just want my mommy back…' Lemy wailed into Lincoln's shirt, muffled yet clear as day.

'I know bud, I know…'

This was against everything Lyra would have thought. Lemy would never be this close to anyone but her, Sam & their mother.

How the hell had Lincoln managed to build a relationship like that in just five days?

Lyra backed up. If she were honest with herself, she never hated Lincoln, only what he represented. Lemy did have a way of seeing the good in people, so she supposed that could've been a factor. But she honestly didn't know what to think. And she didn't have the heart to break the scene up.

Like it or not, Lincoln was here to stay. Whether she liked it or not was up to her, but it wouldn't change the fact.

It felt surreal waking up the next day.

Lincoln had fallen asleep on the couch as per usual, in rather pronounced pain. He noticed that on his arms were small bruises, & could only imagine the size of his wounds under his clothing.

Although once his eyes drifted to the child sleeping next to him, his mind lost all prior focus on his pain & looked towards his son.

He reminded him so much of a younger version of himself, to the point that, minus the long brown locks & undamaged teeth, he was an almost perfect copy.

Almost.

That was until he looked down onto his arms.

He has been earing those tattoo sleeves ever since the funeral. He was almost sure that he was wearing them to commemorate his mother. In fact they almost looked real. Too real.

When he touched the kid's arm, he felt nothing but skin.

'What the f-'

After apologizing profusely for waking up the neighbors & Lyra, the three had a long-winded conversation about Lemy's tattoos. And how far they truly went.

Putting on his shirt, he explained that he did it to impress his dearly departed mother. Which she was. Unnaturally so.

'Who on Earth puts tattoos on a minor, let alone a nine-year-old?'

'Hey, you've got to admit though, they look pretty cool, right?'

Lincoln took a moment to gather his thoughts, the only one reigning supreme was that if Luna was with them today, he'd more than likely slap her.

'I was very disappointed in him when I found out about it' Lyra spoke up, as if to rectify the situation.

'My one is much smaller…' Lincoln was dumbfounded when he heard his daughter, still a minor aged fifteen, had also gotten a tattoo.

'Why couldn't you two have waited until you were at least in your twenties? At least then you have clear thought about it.' He felt like headbutting the wall. His son was impulsive & his daughter was a hypocrite. He had his work as a father cut out for him.

'Well at least we've got tattoos.' Lemy spoke up, trying to act as if he had one upped his dad. Lincoln actually smiled at this. Maybe this time his son would stop trying to beat him at the game of life & just go with the flow.

Turning around, he lifted the back of his shirt to reveal a large tattoo that spanned from his neck down to the middle of his spine. Three words spanned his back.

Lyra.

Lemy.

And Luna.

Lyra was completely & utterly dumbfounded. It looked like a biker tattoo, fitted with skulls & flames, & looked oddly like a tattoo their mother had.

Come to think of it, she was pretty sure their mother's had spelt out their father's name as well, in its own Picasso fashion. She had no words to describe the awe she felt in that moment. Their father had loved them to the point where he had his body permanently inked with their names.

Lemy however, had more than enough words.

'That's a pretty cool tatt, but why would you get our names tattooed? That seems kind of dumb.'

Lemy's game had been interrupted by a knocking at the door. This really pissed him off because he had reached the infected aliens part of the game Lincoln had been playing.

'Could you get that for me, Lem?' Lincoln called from his study. Recently Lincoln had been trying to keep up on his 'quota', whatever that meant, & had been spending several hours drawing these cool looking pictures. Lemy thought to himself that he should have gotten those ones tattooed instead, but there wasn't anymore room, so he'd have to suck it up.

Pulling the wooden door, he found he was face to face with a pretty girl, about the same age as him, with short blonde hair & darkish skin.

'Uhh… hey?' the girl spoke. Lemy was a bit dumbfounded by her & quickly regained his composure.

'Uh, hey! Hi… there…' he tried leaning against the doorframe to try & look cool, quickly adjusting his headband to compensate for his lack of grace.

'Um, is Lincoln home?'

'Y-yeah! Dad! There's a girl at the door!'

Lincoln could be heard spitting out his caffeinated beverage as he heard his son say the key phrase, "dad". It had been so casual too. Strangely heartwarming how easily he said it. Unfortunately, his moment of warmth was snuffed by the fact he knew he had to answer.

'Yeah Lem, th-that's Muffy. Tell her to come in.' he tried to calm himself, but his smile shone through in beams. He left his station & went to the kitchen to see what Muffy & her mother had brought him this time.

Said girl had placed a Tupperware container on the bench, containing a portion of what appeared to be Italian, Spaghetti or Lasagna it seemed. Although, it would only really be enough to feed one, two at most. Marie, the girl's mother, knew he had a small stomach.

'Hey Lincoln?' she gestured him to come closer to her 'Who's the boy?'

Lincoln giggled at this, answering as simply as he could.

'He's my son Muff, & I have a daughter too.' This stunned the poor girl, for all she knew, Lincoln was a lonely introvert, only ever coming out to for his weekly sun dosage to get food or the occasional video game or comic. He never struck her as the type to have a son, let alone two kids.

'That's cool' she spoke, & then left without another word.

Lemy watched her until she entered apartment 3C. Only three doors down from apartment 3F, their apartment.

'That's Muffy, she's a little shy, but if you want you can go visit her sometime.'

Lemy was stunned, he would be able to see the little angel again?

He'd better act cool, he didn't want to weird her out. Who was he kidding, he was Lemy Freaking Loud.

He was the epitome of cool.