AN: Blah blah blah, not committing to making this a series. But my pal Hero did another round of commissions, and I had another idea for him to draw. One this led to another, and now I have this thing. Hope you guys enjoy it.
Lincoln's vision blurred, causing severe disorientation as he stumbled down the street. A poorly judged step combined with a very unfortunately timed throb of pain from his head caused him to veer off course, very nearly toppling over and onto the cold, unforgiving sidewalk beneath him. However, the Loud boy found his resolve, and with a firm stamp of his foot, managed to stay standing. Of course, now his leg was throbbing something fierce, tiny, painful electric shocks working their way up his body, but it was considerably better than falling on his face. Again. He breathed a sigh of relief, taking comfort in that small victory.
It was at that point that he noticed the shadow looming overhead. Before Lincoln had time to react, a pair of arms encircled his still aching waist and yanked him off his feet.
That's it! The gloves were coming off! The old man had warned him about using magic recklessly, but Lincoln one beating a day seemed like a more than reasonable place to draw the line, even he could only be pushed so far. Throwing caution to the wind, Lincoln curled his right hand into a claw like shape, and with fury briefly dispelling the fog of pain muddling his brain, he found his focus.
A crackling ball of lightning sprung to life within his palm. It was small, he couldn't manage anything bigger at the moment, but at this distance he figured smashing it right into his assailant's face should do plenty of damage. Kicking his legs out, Lincoln managed to get just the leverage he needed, and prepared to ram his little creation straight on home!
...Only to find himself face to face with the familiar smiling visage of a certain blonde rocker.
"Heya, Linc." Sam drawled. "What...happened to your face!"
Lincoln groaned, and after a brief moment of panic, dismissed the lightning that was still clenched in his hand. No need for that now, he was in enough trouble as it was.
Concerned Sam was not a phenomenon that Lincoln was properly equipped to deal with, especially not after the day he was having. That he was still having, strictly speaking.
He liked Sam. Quite a bit, actually. When she'd first come into their lives Lincoln had, admittedly, been a little suspicious of her. Not out of any real dislike of the mostly-blonde girl, but simply because she was dating his sister. The Louds were protective of one another to a fault, and an interloper was going to be scrutinized, even the pretty ones with lovely singing voices and wicked guitar skills. Fortunately, Sam had acclimated herself well to the chaos of the Loud family, and it wasn't long before they'd begun to consider her as a member of the family. Lincoln certainly did, it was like having another sister, and he was cool with that.
...Well, most of the time, at least. That particular sword cut both ways. Sam was certainly fun to be around, and it wasn't long before he'd felt like he'd established a tangible rapport with the older girl, the kind that was rare to find with anyone outside your own family. But the girl loved messing with him. It had only been a few days since she'd burst out of a random supply closet in the school hallway and very nearly scared the poop out of him n a very literal sense (how did she even know to hide in that specific closet? She didn't even go to his school!). She'd apologized afterwords, even gave him a rather heartfelt apology hug to go with it, but it had been difficult to ignore the way she was sniggering at his expense the entire time. She wouldn't even let him leave for a while, insisting he stay there, holding her while she continued to laugh herself silly. Even so, Lincoln tried not to take it personally, that was just Sam. Sometimes she arranged for you to wake up in the arms of your very bewildered, very embarrassed older sister (Sorry Luna). Sometimes she insisted on joining your special comic book reading time, firmly insisting that the "dress code" be applied to anyone who partakes, even those unfortunate tag alongs she herself forces to come along (Sorry again, Luna). And the less said about the incident where Sam had guilt tripped him into giving her feedback about her new concert outfit, the better. The skirt had been so...so very short, very nearly nonexistent, and she'd kept on doing lunges and high kicks for some reason. It would have been mortifying even if Luna hadn't been right there alongside him, and he'd been so embarrassed that he hadn't been able to look at his big sister for the entirety of that particular episode. Thankfully Luna was easy going as ever, and strangely okay with the fact that he'd spent a good portion of his day being forced to check out her girlfriend. Lynn, on the other hand, had been considerably less okay with the situation when she'd found out, and it had taken a lot of convincing from Lincoln to keep her from giving Sam a piece of her mind. As well as several other things besides, no doubt. Like part of Sam's jaw...
Still, while she had her faults, Lincoln had come to accept those parts of Sam, just like he would with any of his sisters. She was a vibrant, energetic girl who was full of life, and as frustrating as it could be sometimes, it was also just a part of who she was. Which is why it was worrying to see Sam's face so marred with concern. Not a single joke was made at his expense, she just stared at him, mouth agape. It had fallen to Lincoln to diplomatically suggest she put him down on the ground now, which helped matters a bit, but now—
"Spill it, Lincoln!"
—Now he was stuck dealing with a very irate pseudo-sister.
He sighed. "Look Sam, it's not that big of a deal—"
"Not that big? Lincoln, you're bruised! Your eye is going to swell up if we don't get something on it! You look like you picked a fight with a fist made of smaller, angrier fists!"
Look at me, I'm Sam Sharp. Lincoln thought, mentally rolling his eyes. I point out things that are obvious just because they prove my point.
"It's fine, Sam. Honest. I'm over it. I just want to go home and lay down for a while."
"And would 'going home' involve sneaking into the house so nobody will see you?"
Lincoln's eyes darted back and forth, and he immediately berated himself for the not keeping a tighter grip on his emotions.
"I don't know what you're talking about." He said, coolly.
"Because it seems to me that if your other sisters saw you in this condition, they probably wouldn't take things as lightly as you're trying to."
Lincoln winced. No, no they wouldn't.
"And it seems to me that if you were going to try your David Steel, super spy act to slip into the house without anyone seeing you, that could easily be undone by a concerned person just telling your sisters that you look like one of Luna's drum kits after a long jam session."
Again he winced. Yes. That would be a problem.
"So it seems to me, that if you don't want eleven angry girls (plus or minus a Lily) hounding you over this, you'd better start talking to the one angry girl who happens to be right here."
It was actually worse than she realized. While all of Lincolns sisters had a tendency to go ballistic it came to defending their one and only brother, it was the two sisters with superpowers that really concerned him. If Lynn and Lucy caught wind of his current condition...well, he didn't even want to dwell on that.
"Okay, okay." He grumbled, holding up his hands in surrender. "You got me. I'll talk."
"Good." Sam flashed him a bright smile. She'd played him, again, and she knew it. Then the smile vanished, and Serious Sam was back. "Now spill the beans, little dude."
Better to get it over with then. "Well, I went down to the comic book shop because there's a new, limited-edition Ace Savvy comic that's coming out today—"
"Wait, issue One or Eleven? That's out!? Why didn't you call me!"
He smiled sheepishly. "I was actually planning on picking up two. Thought it'd be a fun surprise for you." Like he said, for as much grief as she gave him, he did like Sam. The girl had developed a taste for fine literature, Ace Savvy comics in particular, and it had proven to be a nice way for the two of them to bond. He just wished she'd keep her clothes on when they read comics together.
Lincoln let out a strangled gasp as Sam pulled him into another hug, her slender arms squeezing around his very tender, very bruised ribs. Thankfully, she seemed to catch on, and quickly put him back down.
"Sorry." She said, giving him a peck on the cheek. "That was really sweet of you." She gestured back at his face. "Now go back to explaining this."
Right. That. "There isn't much to explain..." He drawled, hoping that maybe she'd be a little more amenable to quietly dropping things now—
"I'm waiting, Lincoln." Well, so much for that. Geeze, she really was the sister he'd never had.
"Fine." He exhaled, finally conceding that he wasn't getting out of this. "I went to the store to pick up some comics, and there were some guys there I'd never seen before. I didn't think much of them, but on my way to the front counter I ended up falling over and hitting my head on one of the shelves."
Sam's lips contorted into a thin line. "You feeling especially clumsy today, Loud?"
"No," Lincoln admitted. "It was one of those guys. They'd tripped me."
"Uh-huh," Sam said, noncommittally. "And then what?"
"Well, one of them offered to help me up, and at that point, I honestly thought I had just tripped over my own feet or something. I'm not exactly the most coordinated guy, you know?"
"I've seen...less coordinated folk," Sam replied diplomatically. "So what clued you in?"
"Guy took my hand and when I was just about to be back on my feet, he kinda pushed me back down."
"Pushed, you say?"
"It was really more like...a throw, I guess? And at that point he had his hands on me so, he just kind of kept going at it. Kind of like a yo-yo. Only..."
"Yeah, I get it," Sam muttered, running her hand through her hair in an uncharacteristically irritated manner. "Anything else?"
Lincoln briefly considered telling her that once the guy had gotten tired of seeing how many ways he could plant Lincoln's face on the floor, he'd called his pals over to see how well a round-headed, white-haired kid worked as a soccer ball. Not well, apparently, he barely rolled at all, no matter how hard they'd kicked him. But Sam was getting an angry vein on her forehead very similar to the kind Lynn sometimes got. So he made the executive decision to omit that part of the story.
"No." He replied, nodding slowly. "That was...basically it."
Sam closed her eyes and took a very deep breath, then exhaled. She took another breath, and then another. The process repeated itself for a while. Finally, she opened her eyes once more, and this time they were filled with purpose.
"Alright then." She said at last. "Think I'm ready now. Which comic book shop were you at? The one a few blocks up, I'm guessing, right?"
Anxiety began to pool in Lincoln's stomach. "Y-yeah."
"Okay." Sam began to rotate her shoulder as she glanced around, frowning. "Heck of a day to forget my guitar, that case packs a wallop, but I think I'll manage."
"Sam." He pleaded. "Please tell me you're not going to do what I think you're going to do."
"If you think I'm not going to march back there and give that guy a piece of my fist, then yes." She replied, sweetly. "I'm not going to do that."
A small droplet of blood dripped down from Lincoln's nose. He honestly couldn't tell if it was from his injuries or the really roundabout double negative.
"Sam, no! You can't!"
"Funny." She glanced down at her clenched fists and took a few experimental swings at the air. "Pretty sure I can. Seems like everything's in working order."
"W-well, you shouldn't! Seriously, Sam, you shouldn't mess with these guys!"
"Lincoln, please." She scoffed, throwing back her hair confidently. "No offense, but these are a couple of doofuses who hang around in a comic book shop looking for easy targets. How tough could they actually be?"
"The lead one was...pretty big."
"Obviously to you, short stuff. But you're adorable and fun-sized." Sam chuckled, leaning down and tousling his hair affectionately. He didn't appreciate the condescension, but he had to admit...the gesture felt nice.
"Now come on." Sam continued, holding her hand a little over Lincoln's head. "How big are we talking here?" She raised her hand a little higher and stopped, looking at Lincoln. When he continued to stay silent, she continued lifting her hand.
"Just to clarify, Linc. You're supposed to tell me when to stop."
"I will." He promised. And so the exercise continued, Sam's confidence visibly fading little by little as her hand continued to rise.
"Right about there." Said Lincoln, finally. When she wasn't being compared to his own puny stature, Sam wasn't all that tall to begin with. Even so, when Lincoln told her to stop, she'd been holding her arm straight up, a good ways over her own head. Not fully extended, but close enough to get the point across.
"Ah." She swallowed, clearly shaken. "That's...that's a bit more than I was expecting."
Lincoln sighed in relief. "See what I mean? It's not worth it. Let's just go, we can poke around online, see if we can find the comic for a decent price that way. Heck, we can make a day of it. What do you say?"
Sam didn't say anything, simply continuing to stare at her own outstretched hand.
"Sam?" Lincoln asked. But still no reply from the older girl. He took a few steps away, just to see if it'd prompt a response, but still nothing. She seemed to be mulling something over.
"No, Lincoln." She said at last, finally lowering her hand. She looked to him, and though there was still that bit of uncertainty in her eyes, there was something else there too. Steel. Never had her surname seemed more appropriate.
"Sam, I don't want you go get in trouble for my sake."
"Neither do I. But I can't let this kind of thing pass me by Linc."
"Sam, it's not worth it—"
"It is to me!" Now she was shouting, visibly upset.
"Lincoln, I know you think I like to mess with you—"
"Only because you do."
"And I do." Sam conceded, with a slight nod. "But I only do that because you're important to me. You guys like to go on about how you consider me a member of your family. Well, that's a two-way street. As far as I'm concerned, you're my little brother, and nobody messes with my little bro!"
Lincoln blushed, genuinely touched. "Sam, I didn't know you felt that way."
"Course I do." She chuckled, leaning down and pulling him into a side hug. "I love the heck out of you little dude."
Now his cheeks were burning. "C-come on, Sam." He protested, glancing around frantically. "You can't just say stuff like that! People might get the wrong idea!"
"You got a problem with that?" She asked, one eyebrow raised, quizzically.
"You're dating Luna!"
"I am." She nodded. "And I love you exactly the same way Luna does."
"That..." He found himself blinking, confused. "That's some very specific phrasing."
"But accurate." She concluded, giving him another squeeze, before finally letting him go. "And that's why I've gotta do this. I can't stand to see the people I love being hurt like this."
"And if he's the kind of woke bully who has no problem with hitting girls?"
Again, Sam lost the tiniest bit of her composure. "I'll figure something out." She said, sounding more confident than she looked.
"You can head on home, Linc." She said, almost as an afterthought. "I'll take care of this myself."
Lincoln hesitated. This was dumb. This was very, very dumb. Sam was going to get herself hurt, and it was all for his sake. It was a terrible, stupid decision, but one that she was dead set on making. Lincoln was simultaneously touched and infuriated that this girl was willing to put herself through this out of some misplaced sense of justice. And yet...maybe that was an avenue he hadn't yet considered.
Magic wasn't supposed to be used to for personal gain. It wasn't supposed to be used to harm people just because it was convenient to do so. That's why he'd refrained from flash frying those dopes back in the comic book shop. But here, he was being presented with an opportunity to use magic to protect another person. Granted, one who was dead set on putting herself in danger, but she was doing it for another person's sake. She was doing it to right what she saw to be an injustice. And that...sounded pretty heroic to him. And that, gave him options.
"Hang on." He called out, crossing back over to Sam. Before she could say anything, Lincoln grabbed both her hands, firmly grasping them with his own.
"Lincoln!" She gasped. He was too busy focusing on his work, but something sounded...different, about her voice. He didn't think he'd ever heard Sam use that tone before.
"Lincoln! I didn't know you were so bold! What will Luna think?" He held back a sigh. That was the Sam he knew and loved.
"S-shut up." He muttered, trying to ignore the way his cheeks were burning. "And let me focus."
Sam stood before the comic book store, feeling considerably cockier than she had only a short while earlier. Eager to get things started, she reached out for the door handle
Reee~
And winced as the metal immediately began to buckle in her grip, letting out a high pitched whine.
"Sam!" Lincoln hissed from behind her. "You need to be more careful!"
"It's cool, Linc." She whispered over her shoulder. "I think I've got it now."
"I'm already regretting this."
"Shut up." She said, peering down at the now even smaller boy, and giving him a smug grin. "You know you love me."
"I—"
She didn't want to give him a chance to finish. Lincoln was a sweetie. But he was also insanely dense when it came to girls' feelings. Poor Luna had told her as much, and it hadn't taken long for Sam to see why she'd been so ineffectual in communicating her true feelings to her little brother. Just another thing Sam was going to have to fix. But first things first.
Easing up on her grip considerably, Sam gently pulled the door open, letting out a soft sigh of relief when this time, the only noise was the jingling of the bell situated above the door, announcing her presence. Satisfied that she'd managed to refrain from causing any further property damage (for now), Sam slipped inside the store. With..some degree of difficulty.
Moving her new body around was proving to be a bit of a challenge. She was a good bit taller than normal for one thing, and it was a little disorienting to be looking down on things that had been taller than her not too long ago. She and Lincoln had come to this very store before, and she'd remembered the racks of comics looming over her. Not anymore. On top of that, she was considerably more robust in the hips, and, much to her delight, her chest, which played havoc with her center of gravity. Still, she managed to adopt a sort of saunter that allowed her to move her new body around without looking like she was drunk, or some kind of teenager who'd been magically aged into an adult by arcane magics (but really, how often did that happen?). And so, she made her way into the shop, ground the heel of her boot into the ground (remembering to ease up just in time), and struck a pose. Chest thrust out, butt cheeks clenched, and hands-on her hips. Classic power pose.
"Woah." Came a chorus of distinctly male voices. Yup, she'd nailed it.
Satisfied with her entrance, Sam took a gander around the store. It was decidedly more empty than it had been the last time she'd been here, but it wasn't hard to see why. Three guys, boys, really, in spite of their looks had been loitering around one of the discount bins, but now all eyes were on her. Just the way she wanted it.
Sam didn't like to judge people based on their appearance, but these three just screamed "bully" from every orifice. There was a tall one (the ringleader, she'd assumed) who wore a thick, wool cap atop his head and a black, skull-adorned t-shirt just to show how tough he was. Making up the remainder of the group was a shorter, portly kid with a shaved head, and a third, considerably shorter fellow, who could charitably be described as "ratlike". The fact that Lincoln had given these guys the benefit of the doubt for even a second spoke volumes about how wonderfully naive her little guy was. These guys were trouble, and perfectly happy with that. Clearly, what she was about to give them was a long time coming.
"Hey there, baby." Said wool cap, sauntering...well, more like stumbling towards her in a manner that he clearly thought was supposed to be alluring. It wasn't, and she was saying that as someone who was legitimately having trouble walking at the moment.
"What's a fine girl like you, doing in a dump like this?" He asked, coming to a stop right in front of her. She was a little impressed, in spite of herself, even in her adult form they were pretty even, height-wise. "And in a costume like that? Although, if you play your cards right, I wouldn't mind helping you out of it, if you know what I mean."
She did. The sheer lameness of that pick up line aside, his eyes had been locked on her chest the entire time. Subtlety clearly wasn't his strong suit. But that was fine, she wasn't planning on being very subtle herself.
"I'm...sorry?" She said, looking around in an exaggerated manner, feigning confusion. Then she gasped. "Oh. Oh you, were talking to me."
"Uh...yeah." He said, his face screwing up in honest, genuine confusion.
"See, I didn't realize that." She continued, "Because you, thinking you have a shot with any of this..." She took a moment to run her hand down the skin-tight, cyan colored costume that clung to her generous, shapely frame, delighting as his eyes followed along with every tantalizing inch she indicated. "Well that's just stupid, isn't it."
It took a few moments, but eventually, his uncomprehending stare gave way to a scowl.
"Are you calling me stupid?" He growled.
"And ugly," Sam added. "But that was really more implied than anything. I wasn't trying to point it out because that's more your mom's fault than yours. But yeah, I'm out of your league, pal."
An actual, animalistic growl erupted from the boy's throat, and he reached for her.
Jingle Jingle
Only to halt in place as the door swung open behind her.
"Sam?" Came Lincoln's halting voice. Well, she'd been hoping he'd stay outside while she dealt with the problem, but she could work with this.
"You!" For a moment, the boy had apparently forgotten about her, now focusing his attention on the pale-haired cutie behind her. Sam was almost insulted. He pointed at Lincoln and tried to step past her. "You're that twerp from before! I thought I told you to stay—"
Big mistake. With reflexes far beyond those of mortals, Sam's hand shot out and wrapped around the boy's outstretched arm, and with only the smallest amount of force, she managed to hold him firmly in place.
"You got a problem with my boyfriend?" She asked, nonchalantly. Wool cap's eyes flickered her way, his brain now bearing two burdens. One being the fact that a girl had so effortlessly paralyzed him, and the other...
"B-boyfriend?" He stuttered, dumbstruck. "He's with you?"
"Actually, I'm with him." Sam corrected the thug, shooting what she'd hoped was a sexy smile back at Lincoln. "And very lucky to be, thank you very much. But the problem here—" Now she began to apply the slightest bit of pressure to his arm, and the boy's mouth parted in a silent scream.
"—Is that the way I hear it, you guys decided to rough up my man. I'm guessing to make yourselves feel big and tough. Which, to be fair, you losers probably need. But you made one mistake."
"W-What's that?" The fear-stricken boy squeaked, his voice now several octaves higher than it had been only moments before.
Still holding him by the arm, Sam pushed upward, now holding the boy up in the air solely by his one, incredibly strained appendage.
"Because nobody touches my Lincoln!" Sam snarled. With a mere flick of her wrist, she sent the boy hurtling through the air, crashing into (but thankfully not through) the back wall of the store with a loud, audible impact. So great was the force of her throw that he actually stayed suspended, splayed against the wall like one of the many collectibles that adorned the rest of the store. Finally, however, gravity took its toll, and the boy slid to the ground, unmoving. Sam wasn't concerned. With her enhanced senses, she could see his chest rising and falling. The dope had probably passed out and given his expression, more from fear than what little physical trauma she'd inflicted upon him.
"Now," Sam said, loudly cracking her knuckles as she turned to her attention to the remaining boys, each now quivering in terror. "Lincoln had said there were three of you guys. Seems to me I owe each of you a little something too—"
"Sam!"
She jerked in surprise as something lightly touched upon her arm. Looking down, she saw it was Lincoln, who had walked up alongside her.
"You've made your point." He said softly, "I don't think we have to worry about them doing anything like this again any time soon." Looking back to Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumb showed that they were clearly in agreement, both boys emphatically nodding their heads.
"I guess you're right, Linc." She said, nodding slowly. And out of the corner of her eye, she could see him sighing in relief. "Then again..."
The world around her blurred as Sam rushed forward, inhumanly fast. So fast that to the boys, Lincoln included, she probably seemed to have vanished entirely. All part of her plan, she wanted the element of surprise for this.
Swooping behind the pair of bullies still standing, she reached down and grabbed both of them by the seat of their shorts. Then, with a slight grunt of exertion, she yanked upwards.
For a moment, the only sound that could be heard was that of fabric tearing. Seconds passed, the two boys' expressions running through a gamut of emotions. Finally, they seemed to agree upon one. Pain. In unison, the pair fell to their knees and then slumped to the ground in a heap. Sam took a moment to admire her handiwork.
"Sam!" Lincoln complained. "What was that for? They were done!"
"Two things," Sam said. "One, those two wouldn't have learned anything if they didn't get a little taste themselves. And two..."
She held up the bunches of fabric still clutched within her hands and grinned. "I wanted to get you a more literal kind of payback."
Now it was Lincoln's turn to be confused. "I...I don't..."
God, he was cute when he was befuddled. Sam really wanted to do something about that, but first things first. Again, she dashed across the store to the front counter, seemingly appearing from thin (and sexy) air before a very befuddled cashier.
"Two of your finest, limited edition Ace Savvy comics, please." She said cheerfully, tossing him the scraps of fabric. "Pretty sure I felt wallets in there, those guys will be paying for everything." A thought occurred to her, and she darted away
Riiip!
"There we go." She announced as she appeared at the counter once more, dropping a third bunch of fabric on the counter. "Almost forgot one."
"I still think you went a little overboard." Said Lincoln, as they soared through the air together, the pale-haired boy clutched protectively against her chest as they zoomed across the Royal Woods skyline. It had taken Sam a bit of work to get the hang of flying, but Lincoln seemed pretty well versed in the mechanics, and now she was doing it like a pro. That was something else she was going to have to talk to him about. Find out who else was in this little club of his. And why Luna didn't seem to be among them...
"Are you going to tell me you weren't at least a little happy to see your woman fighting for your honor?" She asked, fluttering her eyelashes at him. To her delight, Lincoln's normally pale skin darkened considerably, growing several shades more red.
"C-come on, Sam." He protested. "You can stop kidding around like that." Heh. Kidding, he says. She was looking forward to showing him just how wrong he was.
"Hey, Sam?" Lincoln looked around, perplexed.
"Hmm?" She asked, feigning innocence. "What's up, Linc?"
"You know my house is back that way, right?"
"Yes, Lincoln." She giggled. "I know exactly where your house is."
"So..." He prompted, the unspoken question obvious. Where were they going. Where indeed...
"Well..." She began. "Luna was planning on staying after school to put some work into our new song. But I think she's had enough time to herself. Thought you and I could drop in."
"W-what for?"
"Call it a...private jam session." She chuckled, nuzzling her face against his. "With just the three of us..."