A/N: Been a hot minute since I've updated this story, but I really don't have an excuse. Life got hella busy and I got mad writers block, what can I say. Apologies for such a long wait, I'll try to keep uploads at a consistent pace. Cést la vie I suppose.
. . . . .
He wasn't entirely sure exactly how he had come to idolize the bold, bitter beverage he currently nursed in his hand.
He was only aware that nowadays, he drank it religiously.
Early morning, late at night, there wasn't a time of day where he couldn't enjoy a piping hot mug of liquid energy.
He could think a several possible instances where it could have cemented itself in his life; that time in his foxhole in Ukraine when it was four below zero. That café in Paris when he was on leave. That mission on Hawaii where he got four hours of sleep over five days, or even the red-eye back to LAX after his discharge.
If he was really honest with himself though, where it had seriously taken hold was most definitely this old, run-down place.
Still, despite the cracked tiles, worn tabletops, and cranky cook, the ancient diner still had its charms.
He balanced the warm mug in his hand, staring deeply into its steaming, inky black depths.
"Can I get ya anything else hun?" Martha, the sweet, middle-aged waitress questioned as she passed his table.
Lincoln offered her a sincere smile. "No ma'am, coffee is just fine for now." He answered. "Well if you need anything darlin, just give me a yell!" She returned with a shining grin and a wink before heading off to check on the other patrons in the place.
All four of them.
Not many people were out and about at 01:30 at night.
Though, Lincoln found he preferred it that way.
He'd been coming to this place for years with Albert, and sat in this very booth; it was their spot, their own little place to just share in each other's company, and after he had passed, Lincoln couldn't bring himself to stay away.
And he didn't feel like sharing it with anybody else.
So he continued to sit in his spot, sipping mug after mug of coffee late into the night ever since.
Alone.
Thinking.
Brooding.
How long had it been since Albert passed?
It couldn't have been more than two, maybe three years? He didn't rightly know, the whole ordeal was a blur for him. His death felt like a lifetime ago, but at the same time it felt like just yesterday he was here, right across from Lincoln, regaling him with another story of his varied and vivid life.
He hadn't been home when it happened.
He'd just arrived in Poland, preparing to ship off to the front when he got a call from Lori. Their relationship was rocky then, and looking back, he realized it was one of the last conversations they had with one another before she ran.
She bluntly told him what happened, and that the funeral was being held in three days. He hadn't even fully registered what she had said before she wished him luck and hung up.
He was a little stunned, to say the least.
He didn't have time to dwell on it however, as he was manning an MG nest on the front within the following twenty-four hours, chattering away at the bodies flinging themselves toward him. It was brutal, it was loud, it was fast, and it encompassed him fully.
He immersed himself in the depths of war for four whole years.
And now?
Now, he wasn't mowing down human beings like wheat with a scythe.
Now, he was back home, sipping coffee in a diner in the middle of the night.
Now, the sense of loss he felt was hitting him in full force.
And he found that the silence was deafening.
His eyes shifted up from his mug to gaze at the empty booth across from him, boring into the cracked, worn faux-leather that would shift and squeak whenever Albert would let out a full, hardy laugh.
He raised his drink to his lips, frowning, when only a small dribble of liquid was pulled into his mouth.
Damn…empty.
He looked behind him and raised his hand to Martha, who caught his eye with a smile and began to make her way over to him, a full pot in hand. He was suddenly aware of the fatigue that had built up behind his eyes as she came closer, and how heavy his body felt.
Still…. It was only 01:45….
One more cup wouldn't hurt.
. . . . . .
This was getting old, that's for sure.
Lincoln sighed, wiping a hand across his forehead, cool beads of sweat running down his wrist and off onto the damp sheets below. He frowned, tossing off the comforter to allow fresh air to dry himself. He threw his legs over the side of the bed and sat up, hands resting on his knees. He looked at his watch, squinting as he pressed the button to illuminate it.
04:45
Fuck.
This really sucked
Lately, he couldn't manage to pull more than four, maybe five hours of sleep if he wanted too, and that was on a good night. It wasn't like he was exhausted though; sure he was tired, but he wasn't deprived.
He remembered a time where he could get eight, even ten hours of uninterrupted, blissful oblivion, waking up whenever he felt ready.
Man,
What a time to be alive.
Nowadays, his body woke him up on its own, unceremoniously thrusting him back into the waking world at some ungodly hour in the early morning. 'Get up asshole, you've slept enough.'
"Well fuck you too then." Lincoln murmured into the dark, rubbing his eyes and standing up.
Rolling his shoulders back and inhaling deeply, a robust aroma filled his nostrils, causing him to recoil slightly. Using the back of his hand to cover his nose, his eyes were drawn to the pile of rancid, gore-covered clothes he had tossed into the far corner of his room the night before.
'God damn it.' He thought wearily, 'I really gotta start washing that shit before I pass out'. Lowering his hand, he moved over to his dresser, pulling out a fresh pair of jeans and deftly slipping into them. Zipping up the fly, he went one drawer lower, reaching in and snatching a folded, grey dry-fit shirt.
Nimbly guiding his arms through their respective sleeves, he pulled the garment over his head and let it fall down around his torso, conforming to his lithe body quite comfortably. Finally, he reached into the bottom drawer and fished out a pair of long, green socks, seating himself on the edge of his bed while tugging them on.
His daily outfit now complete, he rubbed his eyes once again, standing up and meandering over to the foul pile in the corner. He stooped down and gathered the disgusting clothes in his arms, moving to the door and gently bumping it open with his hip.
He quietly moved to the stairway, cautiously gliding down the steps, careful as to not wake the rest of the household. He paused at the bottom and gazed in to the living room, spying a lump of blankets and arms on the couch.
'Filthy clothes first, body on the couch later.' His subconscious directed him, promoting him to move past the dining room and into the kitchen, where he ambled down the stairs to the basement. Throwing the rancid bundle into the washer, he dumped in a healthy amount of detergent before cranking the switch to 'Heavy Duty'.
Yeah, he definitely needed a better way to go about this.
Shuffling back up the stairs and back in to the kitchen, he did a double-take as his eyes passed over an almost full pot of coffee.
Well hello there.
Where the hell did you come from?
Putting a pause on his journey back to his room, Lincoln slowly ambled over to the ancient machine, reaching out and grasping the glass container by its chipped, plastic handle. Lifting it to his nose, he inhaled sharply, taking in the deep, rich scent of dark roast.
Yep, freshly made; he could smell the stuff a mile away.
But, again, how did it even get here?
He vaguely recalled stumbling in to the house a few house ago; fatigue and adrenaline aftershock wracking his body and mind. In no part of his endeavor to throw himself into bed did he recollect making a fresh pot of liqu-
"Are you just gonna stare at it?" A voice cut sharply through his musings.
Lincolns head snapped to the dining room doorway, fist clenched and muscles tensing in anticipation. There, in the doorframe, stood Lori, her blonde hair frizzy and bedraggled.
He closed his eyes as he released a breath he hadn't realized he was holding, relief quickly washing over his tense form.
"Jesus Christ Lori!" he breathed out, leaning against the counter, "Don't creep up on me like that!"
A small grin formed on the eldest Loud sibling's lips, eye's narrowing in jest.
"What's wrong? Did I actually manage to startle the eternally stoic Lincoln Loud?" she threw at him, smirking as she crossed her arms.
Lincoln let out a small snort, shooting her a half-smile. "What, have you been taking tips from Lucy? I've usually been able to hear long before I ever see you." He tossed back.
Lori rolled her eyes, moving over to the sink and grabbing an empty mug from the basin. Reaching over and grabbing the coffee pot, she poured herself a cup of the steaming, black liquid, and moved to the tiny kitchen table and took a seat.
Lincoln followed her lead, snatching a mug from the cabinet and transferred coffee into his cup. He moved to the doorway and paused, choosing instead to move over and pull out the chair across from Lori and gently sit down.
Lori raised an eyebrow at him, but simply returned her gaze back to her mug, eyes focused its rising wisps of steam.
A comfortable silence fell over the two as they sat, sipping their respective beverages. Lincoln pulled out his phone and began scrolling through his news feed, curious as to what was going on in the world.
Same old same old it seemed…. The Russian-American Coalition was holding a summit today… don't give a shit about that, fuck both of them…. The ecological reclamation of San Francisco was still ongoing… that was good… Group of men slaughtered in an apartment in Downtown Chica-
"I know you must think I'm heartless." Lori's voice cut through his musings, prompting him to look up from his screen. A small frown set on her face, eyes set on the table between them instead of meeting his gaze. Lincoln cast his look to the side, memories of the past several years of his relationship with his oldest sister leaving a hollow feeling in his gut.
"I'm not really sure what to make of you nowadays." He returned honestly. He couldn't recall when they had grown so estranged. If he had to choose, it was probably after their father had passed, but it didn't matter now; the chasm between them was vast and deep, filled with cold anger and unspoken feelings.
She nodded as if in agreement.
"I've failed a lot as sister, I won't deny it." Her words stroke a chord inside him, and he isn't sure what to feel. "But I'm the oldest, and it's my responsibility to take care of the family. Regardless of what you and the others think" A matter-of-fact look sets on her face, and as Lincoln meets her hardened gaze, he wonders who the fuck she thinks she is.
"It's time for a change." She continued. "You've done a great job over the past couple years, but I think it's time for me, Leni, and Luan to take control of the situation." She finished, taking a sip of her coffee.
'So this is your idea of 'fixing' things?" he mockingly questioned, causing her to freeze. "Showing up out of the blue and demand we submit to your wishes?" He leans back into his chair, unwaveringly meeting his sister's fiery stare. "Two years Lori, you haven't spoken to anybody in this house in two fucking years, and you and I haven't really spoken in three times as long! What did you expect? A welcome home hug and kiss?" He mocked, gripping his mug tighter.
"You know what I think? I think this whole thing," he animatedly gestures with his free hand, "is a gambit to prove to yourself that you're still top bitch." He says with a sneer, vitriol laced within his words. "Well guess what," he smirked, driving it home. "You gave up that position a long time ago."
Lori's frown turns into a full grimace, eyes narrowing in fury and face flush with anger.
"Oh, like you're doing such a stellar job at keeping a healthy household!" She nearly shouted, "Sneaking around and staying out late, refusing to tell anybody where you're going or what you're doing?" His stomach dropped. "Yeah, totally providing a stable household for the girls."
"Listen to me you little fucking psycho," She began, voice rising even louder. "They're my sisters! MINE!" She jabbed her finger at him repeatedly. "You shouldn't even have a fucking thought in that damaged head of yours about what they need, because I'm at least their actual fucking sister!" She finished, finger prodding the table, emphasizing every last syllable.
Lincoln stared at her in silence, and disbelief.
Wow.
So she was gonna to play that card, eh?
He slowly stood up, coffee in hand. A look of regret found itself on Lori's face as her words finally registered in her own mind, hand raised to her mouth. "Lincoln, wait," she began as he moved over to the sink.
"Thanks for the coffee." He cut her off, tossing his head back and finishing off the remnant of his drink. He placed the empty mug into the sink and began to walk out.
"I didn't mean-" she started, but it was too late; he was already past the dining room and she could hear him stride his way upstairs.
She let out a loud groan, resting her elbows on the table and holding her head in her hands.
Jesus Christ what was wrong with her?
. . . . .
Hot water splashed across his body, leaving his muscles warm and relaxed.
One of the perks of waking up before everyone else was the promise of a boiling-hot shower.
And fuck, he sure needed it this morning.
He stood back, away from the stream of water and ran a washcloth along his arms and sides, rubbing the fresh, lavender-smelling soap into his skin. Once he was satisfied, he stepped forward, allowing the suds to be flushed off his body and down the drain.
He inhaled deeply, filling his lungs with the thick haze of steam that permeated the small space of the bathroom. He allowed himself to relax, reveling in the heat that encompassed his body.
What a shit-show this morning turned out to be.
He closed his eyes, focusing on the feeling of heat and tiny droplets of liquid beating and dribbling down his form, steadily breathing.
In
Out
In
Out
And he opened his eyes only to find himself in enveloped by water and flame.
The rain was torrential, battering him as it came down like waves on a shore. Almost as if in defiance, the fire that tore through the surrounding jungle burned bright and hot, refusing to be snuffed out as the rain continued its relentless assault. The heat was intense, scorching his skin and singeing his hair.
He heard shouting somewhere in front of him from his position against the large tree trunk, and felt the whizz of bullets graze past him. The smell of burnt flesh filled his nostrils, and he saw some poor private to his left reaching out to him.
"Loud, please!" he begged, desperately grasping for him.
Lincoln could see through the smoke that his left arm had been blown away.
The kid kept calling his name, pleading for help, but Lincoln couldn't move.
He was paralyzed with fear.
He started to hyperventilate.
This wasn't supposed to happen.
They weren't supposed to be any resistance.
When the hell did they even land on Kauai?
He closed his eyes, trying to catch his breath, taking deep, slow breaths.
In
Out
In
Out
The smell of burnt flesh and the concussive thumps of distant artillery fell away.
Gone was the smell of burning diesel and thick smoke.
In its place, the fresh smell of lavender and the gentle sound of draining water returned.
He found that he was sitting in the tub, arms clutched tightly across his chest.
He let out a shuddering breathe and rested his head on his forearms.
Lori was right.
He was fucked up.
. . . . .
Lynn wasn't sure if it was possible to hate her older sister more than she did now.
But she imagined it wouldn't be very hard, knowing Lori.
How fucking dare she bring that up?
She hadn't meant to eavesdrop, but upon her arrival back from her early morning jog, she heard voices through the kitchen window screen as she was walking up the back steps.
She sat under the window and listened to the entire thing.
And she was furious.
After Lincoln calmly walked away, she watched as Lori sat with her head in her hands for close to half an hour, before sighing, duping her cold coffee in the sink, and headed upstairs herself.
Who the hell did she think she was?
It wasn't Lori who had kept food on the table.
It wasn't Lori who to put her sisters through school, and continued to do so.
It wasn't Lori who had held her while she sobbed over her ineligibility to continue her aspirations of becoming a world-renown athlete.
It wasn't Lori who had help her with her physical therapy, regardless of what else she had going on.
Lori hadn't really been a presence in her life, and now she called the one person who continued to give everything to his family an insane psychopath.
Way to go Lori, really building bridges out here.
Bitch.
She let out an exasperated sigh as she filed up her water bottle, moving to the living to watch a little of the morning news.
"I should do something nice for Lincoln.' she concluded in her mind as she entered the living room. However, her musings stopped once she spotted Lucy on the couch, sitting with her arms and legs crossed.
She looked pissed.
"I'm assuming you heard Lincoln and Lori's conversation this morning?" She queried Lynn without looking at her.
A hard frown formed on Lynn's face.
"You too huh?" She returned.
Lucy only nodded, before sliding over to make room for Lynn.
She grabbed the remote and flipped on the televisions, pressing the sequence of numbers. for the news station.
"Today marks the annual Russian-American Coalition conference in Munich today…" The news anchor rattled on, filling the silence. Lynn began to speak up before Lucy cut her off.
"We need to talk about Lori." She spoke with a soft finality, prompting Lynn to nod her head in agreement.
"We can't let Lincoln do this by himself." She returned.
Both sisters turned their attention back to the television, a quiet understanding passing between the two.
"In other news…" the news anchor rattled on. "Carnage in downtown Chicago today as the bodies of six men were found brutally murdered within an apartment…"
. . . . .
A/N: I've decided to place a limit of at least 3000 words per chapter, as I believe it helps clear up the narrative, as well as prevent writers block. I thrive on your all's feedback, and I smile every time I get a review. Let me know what you like, dislike, and how I can improve! Hopefully it wasn't too bad considering the wait.
Kudos