Disclaimer: The Loud House and associated characters belong to Nickelodeon and Chris Savino.

Where Love Leads

By Lola Presents

Chapter 8

With nothing upon which to measure the passage of time, Lincoln finally opened his eyes, unsure of how long he'd been out. However, instead of finding relief, only confusion greeted him. He blinked a few more times and looked out upon a vast expanse of white, in significant contrast to the darkness he had just witnessed.

It wasn't exceptionally bright, only white. There was no ceiling or floor, no horizon, and no features or shadows to give Lincoln any sense of direction or perspective. He looked down to inspect what he may be standing on and found nothing. Wait, standing?

"Hello, Lincoln," came a feminine but compelling voice behind him.

The voice seemed distant, yet close, with both leading and trailing reverberations. It seemed to emanate from everywhere and nowhere at once. Yet, as other-worldly as it was, it caused Lincoln no distress.

Turning, he saw a woman, approximately twenty-five to thirty years old, by his reckoning. She was shorter than Lincoln and looked incredibly like his sister, Lucy, though he somehow knew it wasn't.

The woman was nude and stood with her fingers interlocked at waist level. Her hair waved gently in a non-existent breeze, radiating a beauty Lincoln wouldn't dare describe.

"Aunt Harriet?" Lincoln asked. "I mean, grandma?"

The woman smiled serenely at him, studying his reactions to her presence.

"Yes, to both," the woman said softly. "Does that surprise you?"

"Where am I?" Lincoln asked, looking around at the abundance of nothing. "Am I dead?"

"You are nowhere and everywhere. Wherever you wish to be is here," Harriet said. "As to whether or not you are dead, that undecided as yet."

Lincoln mulled the words over in his mind, not fully understanding, though there was a distant recognition of something he wanted to avoid.

"Why am I here?" Lincoln finally asked, breaking his silence.

"I was hoping to ask you the same thing," Harriet told her grandson. "People only go where searches lead them. What is it you are looking for?"

"Answers," the young man replied almost immediately. "I need answers."

Harriet gazed at him for a moment, blinking twice.

"Thirty-four, raindrops, the taste of ice cream," listed Harriet before pausing. "Shall I continue?"

Lincoln shook his head.

"No, thank you. I mean no offense, but those answers made no sense," Lincoln said, growing despondent.

"Of course not," agreed Harriet, still unmoving. "One must know the questions first. Let's try again, shall we?"

Lincoln looked around once more, seemingly ignoring Harriet's request.

"You said this place... can be anywhere?" he asked politely, feeling his surroundings impersonal.

"Indeed," Harriet replied. "Close your eyes and envision where you wish to be."

Lincoln lowered his lids, bringing up the most serene place he could think of, a rolling meadow he once visited as a child. Suddenly, grass formed beneath his feet, warm sunlight kissed his skin, a light breeze teased his hair, and the wonderful scent of flowers caressed his nose.

Finally, Lincoln opened his eyes. The hill in the meadow was just as he recalled it. Lincoln and Harriet were standing beneath a large oak tree, the lone guardian of a small hill in the middle of a gorgeous glade. He breathed deeply and remembered being happy here.

"Curious," Harriet said.

"What's curious?" Lincoln replied.

Only then did Harriet break her pose, reaching out to the tree and stepping toward it. She placed her hand upon its surface tenderly.

"This field," she said, turning to face Lincoln. "It resides on my childhood homestead. This tree is where my brother and I used to play. And, eventually, fell in love."

"So, it's true then," Lincoln surmised. "You know what Mom said."

"It is," Harriet said happily. "Does that concern you?"

"I don't know. Maybe," Lincoln offered, trying to find the right words to express himself. "My siblings and I have all inherited the predisposition for, uh... family affairs."

"I am aware," nodded Harriet, removing her hand from the tree and returning to her initial stance. "And you find an issue with this knowledge?"

"I feel like all these relationships are tearing me apart," Lincoln admitted sadly, remembering past events as though they were distant memories.

"I understand, but things are not as they seem," Harriet announced. "Take this tree, for example. As it grows, it branches out, each branch contributing to the tree's health. The trunk, and its roots, are the tree's foundation, just as you are your family's foundation. The tree does not plan how the branches will grow. As such, you should allow your branches to choose for themselves."

Lincoln pressed his lips together and furrowed his brows, attempting to follow his grandmother's analogies, but found it challenging.

"I worry about the future, though," Lincoln finally continued. "With so many partners, how will I fend for the numerous children we might have together? Things are already getting tough to handle."

"Do you believe this tree thinks about where its seed may fall?" Harriet asked. "That is the purpose of mortal life. If one were immortal, children would be unnecessary. Your sole job is to procreate and teach your offspring so that the whole shall endure, becoming ever more knowledgeable. Jobs, careers, they will come."

"How? When?" pleaded Lincoln.

The landscape began shifting around them, and the pair found themselves on a beach. Lincoln watched the surf come in and out, the residual foam resting on the sand until the sun evaporated the residual water.

"The sea is alive as well," Harriet said. "It moves and grows; it creates life and nurtures it. And yet, it operates within specific boundaries. It has a role to fill and does so efficiently, but only when contained by such limitations. Tell me, have you assigned boundaries to your relationships?"

Lincoln considered her words carefully, wincing at the realization that he hadn't. His eagerness to accept his newfound lovers into his life pocked its topography with the absence of responsibility and accountability.

"No," Lincoln sighed. "I don't believe I have."

"Lincoln, dear," Harriet explained. "Everything must have boundaries and limitations, obligations, and repercussions. If left unchecked, any entity would overflow its borders, just as the ocean does in a storm, leaving devastation behind."

"I understand," conceded Lincoln, beginning to understand what his grandmother was saying.

"Things would be so much easier, though, if I could break this curse somehow," Lincoln said, expressing an inner desire even he wasn't aware he had, surprising himself upon hearing himself speak it.

"What you see as a curse, I see as a blessing," replied Harriet. "Oh, I know. You're concerned about the laws of the realm you call reality. And yes, you must work with caution. Crossing some boundaries may have an ill effect. Then again, some limitations are worth ignoring, especially in the service of a more significant role."

"The continuation of life?" Lincoln questioned, unsure about his response.

"Indeed," nodded Harriet.

"But... some of them are so young," Lincoln admitted with concern on his face, finally voicing his internal doubts.

The scene shifted once more in a blur before Lincoln's eyes, and he found himself in a dense forest surrounded by wolves. Startled, he fell backward, only to be caught by Harriet gently righted him.

"Do not fret," Harriet instructed him. "For they cannot see us. Observe."

As Lincoln looked on, time seemed to pass at a furious rate. Older wolves mated, young were born, and they began to grow. Soon, the young began mating, allowing both mature and immature pairings. Some would result in new young, and others would not. For several generations, the cycle repeated itself.

"Yes, I'm aware that animals behave differently," insisted Lincoln. "But humans don't do this. Not toward our young anyway."

"What is youth?" Harriet asked, cocking her head to one side. "When a body perishes, its soul comes here, to be sent to the Beyond, or back to reality. In the case of the latter, could it indeed be considered young? The body may be new, and some memories left behind, but the soul endures. For example, your soul has existed for eons, and, should you choose to enter the Beyond, you will reunite with all your memories."

"But if they don't remember..." Lincoln said, struggling with Harriet's revelation.

"Ah, their body may not recall, but their soul does," Harriet clarified.

"But you said they forget if they return," Lincoln reminded her.

"Not entirely. I said that souls left some behind, not all," Harriet reasoned. "They always take the things required for their next life, leaving only unneeded baggage behind."

Lincoln pressed his lips together, still unsure about what he heard.

"Harriet," he asked. "What about the risk of physical or emotional harm?"

Harriet nodded, knowing the question would arise at some point. Reaching out for Lincoln, she placed her hand on his shoulder.

"One who truly loves will never harm," Harriet reminded him. "You understand this truth better than most, even if you do not realize it. You have made those around you happier than ever, and you will continue to do so, should you choose to return. Your concern for their well-being is ingrained into your soul. Do you understand?"

"I believe so," Lincoln spoke openly. "Though I do have another question."

"If souls either return or move forward, how are you here?" queried Lincoln.

"What you see before you is a reflection of who I was," Harriet said. "An echo, if you will, left here to serve as your guide by one who loves you eternally."

"Eternally?" asked Lincoln with curiosity. "Does that mean..."

"Yes," nodded Harriet. "All those you now love have been with you across the ages."

"Aand, who are you now?" stammered Lincoln.

"As stated before, the soul remembers," Harriet said. "I am Lucy."

Lincoln nodded in understanding, and as he did, a realization manifested.

"So, I've been with all my sisters in the past, even though we may or may not have been related at the time?" Lincoln posited.

"That's correct," Harriet acknowledged. "You see, there is but one soul, known as the One, residing in the Beyond. It is the One that created your reality to test itself and grow. All souls are, in fact, part and parcel of the One. Loving another is loving yourself and the One."

"So, what do I do now?" Lincoln asked, scratching his head.

"Decide," Harriet informed him. "You have three choices; return to your current life, return anew, or ascend to the Beyond, rejoining with the One."

"Well, I'm not sure I want to do it all over again," Lincoln stated. "What if I decide to move forward?"

"Then, you simply turn your back on me and walk away," she told him, "and the One will reclaim you."

"And should I wish to return to my current life?" added Lincoln.

"Submit to me," Harriet said. "Submit to love, to yourself and others, and you shall return."

Lincoln smiled and stepped forward. His path was clear now. He knew what he needed to do for himself and those he loved. Wrapping one arm around Harriet, he pulled her close and kissed her deeply.

Suddenly, Lincoln and Harriet were underneath the impressive oak tree on the hill in the meadow.

As Harriet returned his embrace, a flood of memories rushed through Lincoln's head. Everything that he'd ever experienced over his many lifetimes came into clarity. People, things, and events long forgotten filled every nook of his mind. As their kiss broke, they faded quickly, only to remind his soul of who he was.

With his passion for life and love rejuvenated, he gently lowered Harriet to the ground. He pressed his body against hers, caressing it with tenderness and respect for who she was, who she is, and who she would be.

Opening his eyes, he saw that Harriet had changed form. She was smaller and younger and peered up at Lincoln longingly. Smiling at him, she wrapped her arms around his neck.

"I love you, Lincoln," Lucy said. "I always have."

"I love you, too, Lucy," Lincoln returned, beaming at his sister. "I always have."

Positioning himself at her entrance, he pushed inside her slowly and reverently. He was unsure if being in this celestial crossroads affected things, but his sensitivity had tremendously increased. Lovemaking was no longer a physical sensation only but a spiritual one.

He felt open and exposed yet protected and comforted. With every stroke and every kiss, they exchanged a part of their being between them. It was exhilarating and filled Lincoln with a new perspective he hoped to take back with him.

Their bodies moved in tandem for what seemed the longest of times before Lincoln reached his climax. Isolated in this place of indescribable beauty, with someone he loved entirely, consumed his restraint. As his seed spilled forth, he arched back and bellowed out across the meadow, his guttural release echoing off the forest walls.

Finally, as the act concluded, he leaned in for another kiss, closing his eyes tightly. Then things became still and quiet, followed immediately by the sensation of falling.

After another period of immeasurable time, Lincoln opened his eyes. As his vision cleared, he saw that he was lying on a hospital gurney. He blinked away the distress of having just awoken and glanced around the room.

His eyes first came to rest to his right, where Nova, Lorianne, and Lily sat, sleeping in chairs. As he panned around the room, he accounted for all his loved ones, finally resting on Lola's face.

"Lo-la..." Lincoln whispered hoarsely, reaching out for her.

Lola snapped awake with surprise and sprung to his side, planting a forceful kiss upon him.

"Oh, my God!" she exclaimed. "You're awake!"