Disclaimer: I do not own 'The Loud House' or any other property in this work that I did not make myself.

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Chapter three: Learning Forgiveness

Lincoln and his younger ex-sisters had just arrived back from their day at Royal Woods Elementary. As Lincoln and the younger girls all had an afterschool snack at the dining room table, Lola began in a conversational tone, "Did you all hear?"

"Hear what, might I ask?" Lisa remarked in her usual dry monotone.

"Biff Bizowski beat up Argent Ace during second recess," Lola explained. With a shudder, the pageant winning princess said, "I'd hate to cross paths with Biff. He's really scary."

"I saw Mrs. Johnson take that Biff kid to Principal Huggins's office," Lincoln stated in a factual tone that had a noticeable lack of emotion. After taking a sip of the soda that he was drinking, Lincoln continued, "So long as the school has staff like Mrs. Johnson and Principal Huggins, we shouldn't have to worry about kids like Biff."

"That's…" Lisa began in a tone that showed she was mildly surprised with what her older brother had said, "…A very good point, Lincoln." As the elementary school-aged Loud children continued their afterschool snack time, they heard the front door open. Normally, they would expect one of the older Loud siblings to walk in, or perhaps Lynn Sr., the patriarch of the family. However, to the surprise of the kids, their grandfather Albert, AKA Pop-Pop, was the one who came in instead.

"Hey there, kids," Albert greeted in a friendly tone, "You all don't mind if I drop in, do you?"

"Pop-Pop!" the younger girls all cheered as they got up, ran over to their grandfather, and swarmed him in a group hug. Lincoln wasn't as quick due to internal emotional conflict; although the sole Loud boy knew that his grandfather played no role in how he was treated prior to running away, how did Lincoln know that Pop-Pop wasn't convinced into joining the others on the 'Lincoln is bad luck' bandwagon? For all Lincoln knew, a certain ex-sister of his managed to convince Pop-Pop that he (Lincoln) was bad luck as easily as she had convinced the rest of the family of the subject.

Lincoln's lack of running up to him had caught Albert's attention. "Come on, Lincoln," Albert said in a gentle tone, "No need to be scared. I ain't gonna bite you."

"S-sorry," the white-haired boy replied as he scratched the back of his head, "It's just…it's just that due to-"

"Oh, hey dad," Rita's voice called out, cutting Lincoln off midsentence as he and everyone else saw Rita walk in. Speaking to her father, Rita continued, "I'm glad that you had the time to come by and talk to Lincoln."

"Wait," Lincoln began in a mildly confused tone, "He came here because of me?"

"Well sure," Albert remarked, getting Lincoln's attention. The younger Loud girls let their grandfather go as he walked over to Lincoln to ruffle the top of his head. "Your parents told me that you may need someone to talk to," Albert continued, then added with a chuckle "You wouldn't mind if it was me, would you?" The white-haired boy looked up to see his maternal grandfather. The kind, gentle tone of Albert's voice, the warm, friendly expression on his face…all of this made Lincoln feel that he could count on his grandfather to not fall for the whole bad luck bit that was being spread around a while ago.

"…Well it has been a while since I last saw you," Lincoln replied. Lincoln's response drew a bark of laughter out of the retired solider.

"Well alright!" Albert remarked in an amused tone. To his daughter, Albert said, "I'm going to be bringing Lincoln with me for an hour or two, Rita. Assuming that's alright with you."

Nodding in agreement, Rita replied, "That'll bring Lincoln home roughly in time for dinner."

"I'll see you in an hour or two, then," Albert said. To his grandson, Albert gestured for him to follow him as he said, "Well come on, my little lookalike, let's get going."

Nodding once in agreement, Lincoln said, "Alright. I'm ready to go when you are." Lincoln left the house with Albert, with the younger sisters and Rita waving them good-bye. Lincoln hopped into the passenger seat of his grandfather's car, then once both white-haired guys were buckled up, the car took off.


As Albert drove to someplace that he had in mind, he said, "So, Lincoln, your mother told me that you ran away."

"Yeah," Lincoln replied, feeling mildly uncomfortable with the way the conversation was starting.

"…She also told me why you ran away," Albert continued. Sighing, the older man added, "To speak the plain truth, what I heard from her has me disappointed."

"What did she say?" Lincoln asked, sounding somewhat suspicious; if Lincoln's ex-mother had told Pop-Pop the actual truth, then he'd actually be surprised. The white-haired boy wouldn't put it past that woman if she had spun a tall tale that painted her as completely innocent, to avoid as much trouble for herself as possible.

"She told me how she, your father, and pretty much all of your sisters were treating you like you bore a black spot because they all thought you were nothing but bad luck," Albert replied in a resigned tone, "That they made you sleep in the yard because of that reason, and that they even kicked you out of the house because of it." Shaking his head in a manner that conveyed disappointment, Albert continued, "If it wasn't for the fact that she's a grown woman, I probably would have grounded your mother for her part in what happened to you. As it stands, I'm half-tempted to do so anyway."

"…Huh," Lincoln thought in a tone of genuine surprise as he heard his grandfather's explanation, "I guess that she did tell Pop-Pop the truth."

"Your mother…also mentioned something else," Albert went on, "Something that has me concerned." The car came to a stop at a red light, so Albert turned to face his grandson. "She said that you've apparently taken to not referring to her and your father as your parents, and that you aren't referring to the girls as your sisters," Albert said in a concerned tone.

"…Because they aren't my family," Lincoln replied with a sigh, "A while ago, the girls and I overheard Mr. and Mrs. Loud talk about potentially getting of one of us. As it turned out, they were simply talking about Mr. Loud's tie collection."

"Yeesh, don't remind me of that tie collection," Albert remarked in a mildly spooked tone, "That bunny tie still gives me the willies."

After a slight chuckle in response to what his grandfather said, Lincoln continued, "After everything was settled, Mr. and Mrs. Loud said that they would never consider kicking one of their kids out. That being said, since they kicked me out, it's clear that they don't consider me as one of their kids. If I'm not one of their kids, then they aren't my parents, and that, by extension, means that their daughters aren't my sisters."

Sighing, Albert said, "After what they did to you, and how it prompted you to run away, I can't blame you for being so bitter." Giving the steering wheel a slightly tighter grip, Albert said in a concerned tone as he continued to drive when the light turned green, "Am I at least still your grandfather, Lincoln?"

The white-haired boy was shocked with what he heard Pop-Pop say, along with how he sounded when he said it. "…You never had a hand in how I was treated before I was kicked out and I ran away, did you?" Lincoln asked.

"No, and let me tell you that I will never treat you, or any of my family, in such a manner," Albert replied, hit tone sounding with firm determination.

Smiling gently, Lincoln said, "Yeah, you're still my grandfather, Pop-Pop." Looking out the window, Lincoln added, "You're probably the only family I have right now. …Well, you and Aunt Ruth. She didn't have anything to do with that bad luck stuff either, unless I'm wrong."

Albert nodded in agreement as he pulled into the parking lot of someplace that Lincoln wasn't paying attention to right away. As he parked his car and shut the engine off, Albert felt truly awful. How could his little lookalike have become so bitter? What happened to his sweet and fun-loving grandson? The retired solider couldn't remember the last time he shed any tears for any reason other than because he was laughing too hard, but he was actively trying to keep tears from welling up in the corners of his eyes right now.

Finally looking out the window, Lincoln saw that his grandfather had taken him to some sort of restaurant that he didn't recognize. "Odin-Dono's Swedish-Japanese Cuisine?" Lincoln said as he read the name of the restaurant that was written above the double doors that led inside. The white-haired boy thought that the exterior of the establishment resembled a mix of a Viking fort and a Samurai castle.

"It's one of those fusion restaurant places that are so popular here in Royal Woods," Albert explained, "Odin-Dono's is also getting so popular that it's proving to be some serious competition for Giovanni Chang's and especially Aloha Comrade." As Albert locked up his car, he continued, "As a side note, the woman who opened this place with her late husband is the niece of one of my war buddies."

"You don't say, Pop-Pop," Lincoln replied as he followed his grandfather into the newly discovered fusion restaurant, his interest piqued as to what this place had to offer.


If the exterior of Odin-Dono's was supposed to be an indication of what the interior might look like, then Lincoln felt that the job was done very well. The main room of the restaurant resembled a Viking dining hall, or the large open room of an inn in that one video game were a hero learned the language of dragons. As for the choice of décor, armor and weapons from both great warriors being honored could be seen hanging from or mounted to the wall. A complete suit of Samurai armor was on a stand and placed next to one of the posts that extended from the floor to the high ceiling. As Lincoln and his grandfather walked by that suit of armor, the white-haired boy let out an impressed whistle.

"Have you been here before, Pop-Pop?" Lincoln asked as he looked around at all of the décor that caught his eye.

"A few times," Albert replied with a smile, "Me and my war buddies usually come here to watch sports on the wall-mounted TVs while enjoying the good brew they serve here. The food's pretty good as well." As the two white-haired guys walked, they were hailed by an adult woman who looked to be about the same age as Rita, maybe a year or so younger. She had long blonde hair that was nearly as white as the hair Lincoln and Albert had. Although she was dressed like a tavern wench, Lincoln could tell it was actually something of a uniform for the establishment.

With a confused look on her face, the woman gestured to Lincoln while saying to Albert, "Is this one of your war buddies, Albert? Seems a bit young, does he not?"

"No, no, you got it all wrong, Ashe," Albert replied with a gentle headshake in the negative as he gave a soft chuckle. Patting Lincoln on the shoulder, Albert explained, "This here is my grandson Lincoln." To Lincoln, Albert said, "Lincoln, this is Ashe. Her aunt Sejuani is one of my war buddies."

"Nice to meet you, Mrs. Ashe," Lincoln greeted as he gave a simple wave of his hand.

With a slight giggle, Ashe replied, "He reminds me of my second-born daughter. In fact, I think that they might be around the same age." Facing Albert specifically, Ashe said, "So Albert, I take it you'll be wanting your usual?"

"Ehh, I'll only get one mug of mead this time," Albert replied, "I'm driving."

Nodding in understanding, Ashe said, "Fair enough. Anywho, I'll have one of the waiters bring you and your grandson some menus once you two find a table to sit down at."

"Thanks," Albert replied as he led Lincoln off to find a table to sit at.

About several minutes later, Lincoln and Albert were having lunch; Albert was having some Swedish dish that Lincoln didn't recognize, and Lincoln himself was having some noodle-based dish from Japan called oden that, to a person like Lincoln with limited knowledge on the subject, reminded him of ramen, except that the noodles were different. "…Lincoln," Albert began in a serious tone after taking a swig from his drink, "Are you ever going to forgive your parents and sisters for what they did to you?"

The older man's question made Lincoln take pause for a minute. Sighing, Lincoln said, "I…I'm not sure. I mean, I'm not sure how long it will take me to forgive them. After all, I…" Stopping short, Lincoln shook his head, as if trying to rid his mind of some unpleasant thought. "…It will take us a while before we reach that point," Lincoln said finally.

"You're at least giving them a chance, right?" Albert asked.

"…Did Lori tell you what I did when her boyfriend was asking me about what happened?" Lincoln replied.

The older white-haired man nodded a few times in the affirmative. "Yeah, your sister told me what you did for her back then," Albert replied. Sighing, Albert continued, "Why did you go through all of that trouble, though, if you're still bitter for what Lori and the rest of them did?"

"At the time, I just didn't care enough to try and ruin Lori's relationship with Bobby," Lincoln began to explain, "Also, this may sound weird, but after I passed out on the sidewalk outside of where the Casagrandes live, I was brought inside. When I started coming to, I noticed that someone was holding me, was crying over me. They sounded regretful, upset with what I had been through. I'm not sure why, but that was what convinced me to at least see if forgiving my ex-family was worth a shot."

"I see," Albert replied as he nodded, knowing full well that it was Lori who had held the white-haired boy back then; the oldest Loud sibling did tell her grandfather everything, after all.

"Heh," Lincoln chuckled, "That probably sounds like one of the lamest excuses for anything ever. But…" Lincoln paused, sighed in a resigned tone. "…Maybe I actually want to forgive them for what they did," the white-haired boy continued, "I'm just not sure how to go about doing that, though."

Giving a warm, understanding smile, Albert patted his grandson on the left shoulder. "It's like you said, Lincoln," the white-haired man said warmly, "It'll take you all a while before you all get to that point. It's going to be a team effort between you and your folks. No one's expecting you to give them all a free pass right off the bat. You'd be a saint if you did. Your family is going to have to show you just how regretful they are for what they did to you."

"Yeah, I understand that," Lincoln replied in a tone of agreement.

"However, it's up to you to recognize when your family is trying to show you how sorry they are," Albert continued, "Again, no one's expecting you to forgive them after they show their first demonstration of how sorry they are, but at least try to appreciate anything that they try, alright? Because despite what the past may tell you, your family loves you, Lincoln."

"…Do you?" Lincoln asked.

With a mildly confused look on his face, Albert said, "Excuse me?"

"When you said that my family loves me," Lincoln began to clarify, "Were you including yourself with them?" With a mildly unsure look on his face that looked like it carried a hint of sadness, Lincoln asked, "Do you love me?"

Once again, the retired solider was finding trouble holding back the tears that were threatening to escape from the corners of his eyes. With a small but gentle smile on his face, Albert nodded a few times in the affirmative. "Of course, I do," Albert said, "You're my grandson, Lincoln, and nothing will change that."

Although the look on Lincoln's face as a whole didn't change, the small unsure frown turned to a smile. "Thanks, Pop-Pop," the white-haired boy replied. Lincoln and Albert finished the meal they were having, then after Albert paid for everything, he took Lincoln home.


That evening at the Loud family residence, Lincoln was laying on his bed in his room, reading a comic book. Although Lincoln was annoyed by the fact that his ex-mother had gotten rid of his furniture while the 'bad luck' nonsense was still at its peak, at least she was able to get everything back. Also, it was only the furniture that Lincoln's ex-mother had gotten rid of; all of Lincoln's other possessions, including clothes, comic books, laptop and various other odds and ends, were all put into plastic storage tubs. Lincoln strongly suspected that his ex-parents were intending to sell some of his stuff at some point.

As Lincoln read, he was going over in his mind what he and his grandfather had talked about while they were at Odin-Dono's earlier. "At least try to appreciate anything that they try, alright?" Albert's words echoed in Lincoln's mind. The sole Loud boy hasn't seen any significant show from any of his ex-family for how sorry they-

Lincoln's thought process was cut off when he heard three quick knocks outside his bedroom door on one of the walls in the hallway, followed by his gothic ex-sister Lucy calling out, "Lincoln, are you in?" Curious, Lincoln got up off of his bed and opened his door. When he did, he saw Lucy standing near the door to Lisa and Lily's room, but she was turned to face him. "I wanted to talk to you," Lucy explained when Lincoln opened his door, "But I didn't want to risk making you any more upset than you probably already are by popping in suddenly. So, I stood a few feet away from your bedroom door while knocking on the wall to Lisa and Lily's room and calling out for you."

"…You could have just knocked on my door," Lincoln pointed out.

"I was afraid of letting my unconscious habit take over," Lucy replied. Walking up to Lincoln, Lucy pulled out a sheet of paper and handed it to him. "I wrote this while I was hanging out with Haiku earlier," the gothic Loud sibling said, "I wrote it in haiku form after Haiku suggested that I try using the method of writing that shares her name." Curious, Lincoln unfolded the paper and read what was written, and what he saw surprised him;

I'm sorry, Lincoln

Please don't hate me anymore

I still love you, bro

Lincoln could see a few things on the poem that Lucy had handed to him. First off, some of the handwriting seemed a bit shaky, indicating that Lucy had some difficulty in controlling her emotions while writing this. Also, there were a few small circular spots on the paper that seemed to have been wet at one point but have since dried up. Then there were the words of the haiku itself; Lucy was trying to, in her own way, show how sorry she was, and that she still loved her older brother. But the second line of the poem had caught the white-haired boy's attention.

Lucy is clearly under the impression that Lincoln actually hates her.

Looking up from the poem, Lincoln was that Lucy was looking to the floor, as if ashamed, as if she felt scared to look up at the boy whose suffering she contributed to. Lincoln could also see a faint bit of trembling coming from the gothic little girl. Lincoln sighed in a tone that showed he knew what he had to do. "Lucy," Lincoln began, making Lucy jump a bit and prompting her to look up at him.

"Yes, Lincoln?" Lucy replied, sounding just a little bit fearful of what her older brother was going to say.

"I'm…still going to need some time," Lincoln said, making Lucy look down to the floor again, as if her spirits were crushed. However, the gothic girl looked up when she heard what her older brother said next.

"But thank you."

Before Lucy could get another word in, Lincoln went back into his room, closing the door behind him and leaving her in the hallway alone. Lucy desperately wanted to ask Lincoln what he was feeling, but she didn't want to risk upsetting him. He said that he still wanted some time to himself, but he also thanked her for the haiku. Lucy was feeling troubled; was he still upset with her? She wouldn't hold it against him if he was. After all, given her role in his suffering, Lucy felt that Lincoln would be completely justified to hate her.

But he thanked her.

END, RESTORED IMAGE CHAPTER THREE

Author's notes:

I'm going to try to begin the part where Lincoln's family shows how sorry they are for what they did. The reason I say try is because I never wrote an arc like this before; this is my first go at such an arc (i.e. writing such material), so please bear with me as I'm learning as I go. Hopefully what I'm intending will be able to get through to you, the readers.