Lincoln Loud considered himself a normal boy: He wasn't the toughest, or the strongest (realistically, there's always going to be someone bigger and stronger than you, even if your name is Arnold Schwarzenegger), but he sure as hell didn't think he was a flower, yet that's how he felt: Like a flower wilting in the sun. Linka was his water, his fresh, clean, nourishing, life-giving water, but the existence of fresh water across a gulf of time and space doesn't mean jackshit if you don't have any: Just ask the people in Africa. That's to say: He missed her so much it literally hurt, like his heart turned into a tooth and then got infected. During the day, he wandered dazedly through life like a shell-shocked refugee, and at night he lay awake in bed struggling to find sleep but finding only thoughts of her. His brain told him he shouldn't feel this way - he barely knew her, pseudo-doppelganger or not. They were together roughly one hour and five minutes - he checked. That can't be long enough to fall completely and irretrievably in love. That takes time and effort, it's not something that just happens. Oh, the foundation can be laid in no time at all, but this wasn't a plain concrete slab, this was a whole goddamn skyscraper.

Yet while he could second-guess his feelings until he was blue in the face, he couldn't deny them: He did, indeed, love Linka Loud, the girl who looked just like him (more or less). Human beings, like animals, operate largely on smell - a child recognizes its mother by the pheromones she secretes, and women (and men) become aroused for seemingly no reason at all when a member of the opposite sex walks by because of smell. Maybe, he figured, his love for Linka was like that - an attraction based more on biology than logic. She was the female version of him, after all, so maybe the pheromones she put off worked more strongly on him. We all have certain needs, physical, emotional, intellectual, and yes, even spiritual, and maybe, just maybe, our scents somehow advertise that - take a boy and a girl who need the same things and put them in a room together, and boom, they'll subconsciously smell each other, know that the other person has everything they desire in a mate, and fall head over heels for each other like that.

Or maybe not.

Maybe, deep down, he was a narcissist and loved Linka because she was basically him, but with boobs. He didn't think he was, but don't they say crazy people believe themselves to be perfectly sane? He had flaws, he admitted to them, and there were certain features of his personality that he didn't like, but he didn't hate himself, nor did he love himself...at least not in a manner that could be considered unhealthy. Still, putting everything else aside, the thought of walking into a room, meeting a girl who could almost pass for your reflection, and going goo-goo seems kind of...fucked up.

That's what he did, though.

Well...not exactly, but close enough: They talked for a couple minutes then started making out. After that, they had sex, talked a little more, and went their separate ways. Doesn't sound very romantic, and it doesn't sound like enough time or effort to be able to say I love you and not feel insincere - or confused. When he told her that, though, he meant it, and it felt so good and right that he could say it again and again and again and still not tire of it.

Why?

Who knows? He didn't care, not really; thinking of that was better than thinking of how much he missed her, however. Focusing on the how and why of it wasn't foolproof, though - thoughts of her would come at random times, and sharp pangs would ripple through his stomach. He'd be sitting in bed reading a comic, and suddenly find himself wishing she was curled up beside him, her head and hand resting on his chest and his arm around her shoulders. In those moments, the fact that she wasn't ripped his heart out and tore it to shreds.

And the worst part of it all?

It had only been two days - two days since he watched her climb into the teleporter and set sail across the space-time continuum or what the hell ever it was, two days since he trudged back to his room, dropped onto his bed, and almost cried, two long, restless, feeling-like-a-convict-in-a-cell days. You won't see her as often as you want, Lisa told him, and she was right; Lisa was always right. If it was up to him, he'd see her every second of every day, but it wasn't up to him, it was up to circumstance. See, for them to be able to meet, the conditions had to be just right, the way atmospheric conditions had to be just right to spawn a hurricane or a tornado. Their relationship had to be kept secret from twenty-two people who lived with one or the other of them, and if Linka's family was anything like his (and he knew all too well that it was), that meant she got just as little privacy as he did. They could make time the way Lisa made time the other day (he didn't know how she got everyone out of the house - he didn't care and he didn't ask), but they couldn't do it often, ergo Lisa's warning.

You won't see her as often as you want.

That was so true, but you know what? While it hurt like hell...he didn't mind it. Long distance relationships, or so he had heard, are torture - loving someone who isn't there, seeing and touching them only rarely, being alone and aching for your other half like an amputee aching for their missing limbs. So far, he'd found that to be true, but he loved Linka Loud with all his heart, and though not having her constantly with him was a nightmare, she was worth it.

Not that that made it any easier. Today, Thursday afternoon, Lincoln sat in the living room armchair with a comic open in his lap, rain sluicing down the window pane and his sisters clustered around the coffee table like the intergalactic senate from Star Wars, Lori texting, Leni brushing her hair, Lynn playing with one of those dumb paddle ball things (he told her to take the Dirty Bubble Challenge and she was actually trying, lol), Lola practically masturbating to herself in a compact mirror, and...you get the picture. They were all doing them and each looked perfectly content.

Unlike him.

Lori was the first to notice something was off about him - when he came in, sat down, and started to stare at his comic (he couldn't actually focus on reading it), she looked at him and lifted her brow. Uh, Lincoln?

Yeah?

Why aren't you in your underwear?

Ah. Right. When he read comics, he did it in nothing but his tighty whities - for maximum comfort. Come on, don't look at me like that, who doesn't like to be comfortable when they read? After all, the saying is snuggle up with a good book not...I dunno...go sit on a fucking cactus with a good book.

I just don't feel like it, he said. That wasn't a lie - his concentration was shot and he wouldn't be any better off in undies than in jeans. He missed Linka and couldn't stop thinking about her - screw his underwear, screw his comic, screw everything.

Not being able to concentrate, he spent as much time looking at his sisters as he did at the panels - every once in a while, he'd catch one glancing worriedly at him. Instead of getting defensive (because that tells everyone you have something to defend, dig?) he ignored them and pretended his heart wasn't throbbing and his stomach wasn't rolling sickly. Normally, he liked hanging out with his sisters on rainy days, but today he just wasn't feeling it - he'd much rather be with Linka, sorry, sis(es).

He sighed and stared down at the page: Ace Savvy stood over a fallen villain to deliver a monologue on the writer's (I mean his) idea of justice. Two days ago, he was a fangirl for this crap, but right now just looking at it made him sneer in contempt. They say that having sex with a woman makes you a man - he always thought that was bullshit, but maybe it wasn't, maybe he was a man now and the childish things that once brought him pleasure no longer would. Oh, Glob Man, uh, look at me, I'm a heap of goo and I fight crime. As for Ace...look at this thing, it's a fucking cartoon in static.

I wish Linka was here. I miss her so much.

He drew a heavy breath and flipped the page: Ace, One-Eyed Jack, and their boy associate The Red Spade shared a laugh as the baddie was dragged off panel by the police. Why do superheroes always hang out with young boys? Kind of fishy if you ask me. Batman and Robin running around in little tights...then going back to the Batcave and taking them off...slowly.

Wasn't there a cartoon parody of that called The Super Gay Duo or something? They drove around in a car that looked suspiciously like a dick and when they flew, one would perch on the other's back like they were having sex. Lol.

I really miss her and it hurts so bad.

Another sigh.

Yeah, superheroes were pretty lame when you got right down to it. So was fantasy - buncha Hobbits with hairy feet and elf ears singing heigh-ho as they prance through The Enchanted Forest of a Thousand Fairies. Heeey, sailor. Even Star Wars and stuff was dumb. I mean, that's gotta be the most generic title ever. It's about a war...in the stars. And George Lucas...pfft, everyone acts like he's god, but outside of Star Wars and Indiana Jones (both of which were heavily plagiarized from other sources, by the way), what has he given us? Howard the Duck? Gee, thanks, George.

I think I'm gonna cry.

Suddenly, the walls felt like they were closing in and it was hard to breathe. He looked up from the comic, and Luan looked hurriedly down at her lap like she was surreptitiously watching him. His vision started to blur, and he jumped up and rushed up the stairs before he broke down, leaving the dumb superhero comic tented on the floor. Fuck it.

In his room, he dropped onto the edge of the bed and buried his face in his hands, then took a deep, shivery breath. His lips started to quiver, and he sucked them into his mouth and bore down on them with his teeth. The tears didn't fall, but they came close, and when he swallowed, it was around a cold lump of emotion.

Man up, will you? Lori hasn't seen Bobby in, like, a month, is she rushing up the stairs to go sob it out? No, she's sitting down there like a normal person and dealing. You're just too goddamn sensitive, that's your problem. You've been steeped in estrogen since the day you were born and it's turned you into a super woman. No, no, that makes you sound like a hero. It's turned you into Super Bitch.

At least she can text Bobby...I don't even have that.

The tears threatened to overwhelm him...then burned off when a brilliant idea struck him.

In the living room, Lori twisted around to look up the stairs, then sighed. "Something's wrong with Lincoln," she said, a note of concern in her voice.

"Yeah," Luan frowned, "he looked sad."

"Maybe one of us should talk to him," Lynn said. "See what his problem is...then play football with him until he's over it." She grinned. "That always helps me when I'm down."

Leni rolled her eyes. "Getting, like, beaten up won't make him feel better. He needs a hug."

"I'll talk to him," Lisa spoke. She sat before the coffee table, a thick science text open before her. She got to her feet, grabbed it, and snapped it close, tucking it under her arm - it was almost as big as she was. "Once I've discovered the root cause of his current state, I will report back and we can proceed from there."

She hurried off before any of them could ask further questions or provide irrelevant insight; she knew damned well why he was depressed, and having felt similarly herself, she knew her talking to him wouldn't help, but he needed to control himself better lest their sisters begin demanding answers. She loved and respected Lincoln, but he'd fold under scrutiny faster than a one dollar bill in a stripper's G-string.

Reaching his door, she lifted her hand to knock, but started when it was ripped open from the inside and Lincoln filled the frame. He jumped back in alarm, then, realizing it was her, relaxed. "I have a question," he asked before she could speak. There was a hopeful light in his eyes that Lisa didn't particularly like - hopeful people are often irrational people.

"What?"

He reached into his pocket, pulled out his cellphone, and held it up. "Can you rig this thing so I can talk to Linka?"

Lisa sighed. "Lincoln, I told you -"

"I know," he said, "I won't get to see her often. Fine. But I-I just want to hear her voice. A-And text her." His voice broke with emotion, and Lisa felt a deep, quivering pang of sympathy. She missed Levi as well, but at least she had the ability to video conference with him when she wanted.

"Yes," she said, "I can. Would you like me to?"

He held the phone out. "Please?"

Luke Loud dropped onto the couch next to his brother Loki and sniffed deeply like a cokehead bumping a fat rail. Lexx and Leif sat at the coffee table, one with a magazine and the other with a jar full of ants or some shit, Loni sat on Loki's other side watching TV, his eyes crossed dumbly, Levi was reading in a corner like a loner/future school shooter, and -

"You're in my spot."

Luke turned his head: Lars stood at the arm of the couch, his eyes hidden by his gay ass emo haircut and his arms limp at his sides. Luke looked his little brother up and down and sniffed again. "Sorry, bro, you know the rules: Move your feet, lose your seat."

"I called check seat," Lars said, his voice rising slightly.

Luke shrugged. "I didn't hear it." He turned to Loki. "Did you hear it?"

Without looking up from his phone, Loki said, "Nah, I didn't hear it." It was clear from his tone that he did.

"I called it," Lars said indignantly.

"Doesn't count if no one heard it," Luke said and grinned evilly.

For a moment Lars seemed to consider his options, then made the wrong choice. "Get out of my spot," he said tightly.

Luke laughed. "Or what? You gonna summon the forces of darkness?"

On the floor, Lexx snickered. "More like the forces of dorkness."

Everyone laughed, and Lars's pale face turned light red. "Get. Out." He came around the arm like he was going to do something, and Luke dropped him with a quick jab to the stomach: With a breathless umph, he fell to his knees and wrapped his arms around his midsection. Loni laughed hysterically and stomped his feet; Lexx slapped the table; Leif pointed at the emo and howled; Loki snickered mean-spiritedly; and Levi looked up from his book, rolled his eyes, and dipped back in. Lars hung his head and hissed through clenched teeth.

"What's the matter, Mr. Dark as night?" Loki asked. "Can't handle a little pain?"

Luke clucked his tongue. "He's faking like a little bitch."

"Am not," Lars panted, "that hurt."

"Maybe you'll think before you buck up next time," Luke said and kicked his feet up onto the coffee table, grazing Lexx's shoulder in the process.

Lexx turned and shot him a dirty look. "Excuse me."

Luke drew one leg back and jammed the bottom of his boot against the back of Lexx's head, driving it forward. "You're excused. Fag."

Crying out, Lexx pulled away and punched Luke's leg. Luke sat forward, but Lexx was smaller and quicker; he slipped under the coffee table and popped up on the other side with a bratty smirk. Luke started to get up, and like a shot, Lexx was gone up the stairs. "That's right," Luke said and settled back into his spot.

Panting, Lars staggered to his feet and glared. Luke ignored him. "I hate you," Lars said, his voice breaking.

At the end of the couch, Loni snickered. "That's, like, such a strong word for such a weak little boy."

Luke threw his head back and laughed. Even though Loni was a retard, he had his moments. You know what they say, even a broken clock is right twice a day.

Taking a deep breath through flaring nostrils, Lars spun and stalked out of the room. "If anyone needs me," he grumbled as he climbed the stairs, "I'll be in my room cutting myself."

"Up the road, little bro," Luke called after him, "up the road." He counted to five, bobbing his head back and forth on each number, then grinned when the satisfying sound of Lars's door slamming resounded through the house. He wasn't really gonna cut himself, he just thought that made him sound tough or something. Look at me, I like pain. He must, though, or else he wouldn't have stepped up the way he did.

On TV, an anchor spoke over video of a campaign rally. "President Ivan Trump and First Lady Donna were in Des Moines today ahead of the 2020 election…"

"What the hell are we watching?" Luke asked and snatched the remote off the table.

"The news, duh," Loni said, "it makes you smart."

Loki chuckled. "Not when you're as dumb as you are."

"He makes Patrick from Spongebob look like Levi," Leif said, and everyone except Levi and Loni laughed.

It was true; Luke loved his bro, but dude was a fucking 'tard and a half. This one time he was putting his shirt on and started spazzing out because he forgot how and got tangled up. Another time, he spent ten minutes gazing wide-eyed out the window because he thought their neighborhood was on TV - the TV was in front of the window, but Luke and Loki moved it - to the pawn shop. Hey, when you and your bro got girls with expensive tastes, five bucks a week in allowance isn't enough. The three months' grounding and having to pay Dad back the full amount...each...wasn't really worth it, though, especially since Luke's girl Holly turned out to be a cunt.

"Guys, I'm not dumb," Loni said. "I'm S-M-A-uhhhh." He glanced at Levi for help. "How do you spell smart?"

Loki laughed. "Not dumb? You coulda fooled me."

Luke opened his mouth to pile on, but Lane came in from the kitchen and suddenly Loni's dumb ass went from public enemy number one to...uh..not public enemy number one. "Oh, shit," he drew, "what up, Lame?"

In the Loud house, you savaged your bros without mercy - all of them - but Lars and Lane were the family whipping boys because Lars was sensitive and Lane was the biggest fucking dork to ever live. I mean, look at this guy: Plaid high water shorts, rainbow suspenders, flower on his shirt. Pfft. How he made it through the school day without getting mad swirlies and being stuffed into every locker he passed, Luke would never know. But that was okay; his bros made up for it when he got home.

Rolling his eyes, Lane laughed sarcastically. "Ha, ha, ha. That's even funnier the twenty millionth time."

"Unlike your jokes," Loki sniped.

"They're, like, not even funny the first time around," Loni added in an obvious attempt to get the heat off himself.

Lane shook his head and sighed, then started across the living room. Luke backhanded Loki's chest and nodded at their prey. "Look at those teeth. Kid's more metal than I am. Get it?"

"His mouth literally looks like a railroad switchyard."

Luke dangled his wrist and said, in the most stereotypical gay lisp he could muster, "Choo, choo, all aboard, fellas. Next stop, my ass."

"Yeah, real funny," Lane grumbled. His cheeks were starting to blush, which meant they were getting to him; maybe it was DNA, but every one of them got literally red-faced when they were angry, which was a curse because it was basically a flashing neon sign that read KEEP GOING! KEEP GOING!

And Luke was all too happy to oblige. "What kind of fag plays with dolls, anyway?"

"It's not a doll," Lane said, "it's -"

"It's a fucking doll, dude," Loki put in. "Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if it was a male doll, but you specifically chose a chick doll."

Loni tittered. "Probably so he can look at her boobs."

"Only rack he's ever gonna see in person," Luke said.

"Because he's ugly and no girl wants him," Loni said.

Lane's blush deepened and his nostrils flared. "Uh-oh, guys, he's gonna pop off," Luke taunted.

"You better watch out," Leif said, "he'll bite you with that big beaver tooth."

Lane took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Fuck you guys," he said, and went to the stairs, probably to go cry and cut himself with Lars. Luke considered going after him, twisting his arm behind his back, and making him cry uncle, but figured that might be going a little too far in this case. Instead, he kicked his feet up onto the coffee table and changed the channel to VH1 Classic, where AC/DC blistered through Let's Get It Up.

"Alright," Luke said and crossed his arms.

"Whoopie," Loki drew. "Dad rock."

Luke blew a raspberry. "This isn't Dad rock."

"Yes it is," Loki said, "they're as bad as Journey."

Luke's cheeks burned. Did this asshole really just compare AC/DC to fucking Journey? Alright, you can say AC/DC's "old" or even "lame" (if you wanna be wrong), but calling it Dad rock and saying they're on the same level as na na na na na na, lovin' and touchin' is over the fucking line. "Dude, they are nothing like Journey. Journey's for fags."

"So's AC/DC," Loki pressed.

"No they aren't."

Loki gesture wildly to the TV. "Look at him, he's dressed like a fucking schoolboy. It's as bad as The Village People."

Luke's grip tightened on the remote and his chest slammed with anger. He knew Loki was just fucking with him, but that's like fucking with a Christian by saying God's a homo or something; really, really messed up.

"I don't get it," Loni said and lifted one hand, "why's he wearing boyshorts?"

That was it. "Fuck you, he's not wearing boyshorts. Dumbass. Dumb fuck. Stupid bitch." Started to throw the remote at him, but froze when he caught a flash of movement from the corner of his eye. He turned just as Linka sat in the armchair, her face set in a hard, pissed-off glower. Uh-oh. Putting on his biggest and brightest smile, he waved. "Hey, Link. What's up?"

She glared for a moment, then settled into the chair and opened a book. "Nothing," she said, "you?"

"Just...hanging with the boys." He snaked his arm around Loki's shoulder and drew him close; Loki responded by shoving him away and calling him a fag. Linka wasn't the boss of the house (fuck that, Luke had no boss...except his parents), but it's almost like she was. He looked at her almost the way he did Mom - he could knock her out and call her a bitch, what's she gonna do? - but, dude, it's my Mom! Same with Linka without the Mom part. He, you know, loved and respected her and all that other gay stuff.

Plus, when she got really mad, she could be kind of scary.

Nodding slowly, she brought the book up and covered her face. "Good."

On TV, AC/DC went off and Aerosmith came on: Loki didn't have shit to say, and neither did Loni, so Luke got to rock out in peace. Finally.

For Linka, however, there was no peace. Curling up in an oversized armchair with a good book always made her happy, but not today. In fact, nothing could make her happy...except for being in Lincoln's arms...with her head on his chest...listening to the strong, soothing rhythm of his heartbeat and kissing his warm skin with her fingertips. Ummm, that thought made her heart ache with loss, longing, and just plain sadness because she couldn't have it.

Sudden tears welled in her eyes, and she blinked them back.

Just over an hour...doesn't seem like long enough to really fall in love with someone. To really love them, you have to spend time together, see them in many different shades and seasons, build a bond over weeks or months, maybe even years. Regardless, in that short amount of time, she fell deeply in love with Lincoln Loud, so deep she couldn't see the light of day, so deep she couldn't find her way back if she wanted to - she left no trail of breadcrumbs like Hansel and Gretel, and if she did, she wouldn't follow them home again no matter how much it hurt to not be with him.

Sighing, she flipped to the last chapter she remembered reading and tried to lose herself, but thoughts of Lincoln assailed her from every angle. Levi said she would think of him constantly, and he was right; since stepping out of that teleporter and picking up where she'd left off only an hour before (God, it seemed like so much longer), Lincoln crowded out everything else, filling her skull like an ever expanding balloon until it felt like her head was going to explode.

Was it really love, though, or was it infatuation? She'd asked herself that a dozen times over the past two days, and had reached the conclusion that it was love. She'd been infatuated with boys before, but nothing she had ever felt compared to this - it was strong and hot but at the same time soft and warm, and her heart, her very body, ached to be with him, to be in his arms and to have his fingers threaded through hers.

When thinking about him became too much to bear, she started to think about why she loved him and how. For one thing, they might not be one hundred percent identical, but they were close enough - not as close as Leif and Lexx in appearance, but if they were together you'd think they were twins. That's weird, isn't it? To look into virtually your own face and see endless beauty? To hold it in your hands, stare into almost your own eyes, and fall? She considered herself a normal girl - she didn't self-loathe, but she also didn't unhealthily self-love. Actually, she never really liked the way she looked. She didn't despise it or despair over it, but she didn't think she was particularly attractive. Body image issues are normal in girls, and hers were so miniscule as to be not even worth mentioning, but the fact of the matter was, she did not think she was a narcissist, so the fact that she was so flipping attracted to a boy who looked just like her was strange.

Like...would you fall in love with someone who looked like you?

Maybe it had to do with, like, pheromones - you know, the chemical substance produced and released into the environment by an animal, especially a mammal or an insect, affecting the behavior or physiology of others of its species. (That's right, I was paying attention to class and not to my crotch that day). Since she and Lincoln were so similar, maybe their pheromones had a special effect on one another. Here's an L-shaped pheromone leaving Lincoln and fitting just so into the L-shaped slot in Linka's heart.

I miss him like crazy.

She flipped the page and sighed dejectedly. Being apart from Lincoln was misery, and since they went their separate ways, time had slowed to a hellish crawl, every minute dragging into infinity, every second like an icy needle in her heart.

And the worst part about it?

It had only been two days. Two long, tortuous, never-ending, stomach-rending, every-waking-moment-I-think-of-him-until-it-drives-me-crazy days. And as far as she could tell, there would be many, many more. Levi stressed the importance of Lisa, Lincoln, and their universe (the very multiverse itself) remaining a secret, so it wasn't like she could tell her parents that she wanted to go hang out with the boy from across the galaxy. That meant that in order for them to have time together, they had to do it under the noses of twenty-two people, and if Lincoln's family was anything like her own (and she knew all too well that it was), he got just as little privacy as she did. They could make time, but they couldn't do it often.

I think I'm going to cry again.

She blinked rapidly and glanced up from the book, which had come to rest on her lap - Luke looked away like he'd been furtively watching her. She looked back down at the page and centered herself. It wasn't so bad, really. So she couldn't see him every single day, it wasn't the end of the world. She'd always heard long distance relationships were hard, but knowing that there's someone out there loving you with all their heart and missing you just as badly as you miss them is really beautiful, and kind of makes up for not actually being with them. She and Lincoln were not the same person no matter what anyone thought, but she believed they were similar enough that what she felt was what he felt too - meaning he wasn't out there in Bizarroworld macking on other girls and pfft, forget Linka. He was probably sitting in his bedroom or maybe even in his living room and having thoughts much like her own, and that, despite everything else, was pretty comforting. There was no rush, and his emotions had no expiration date: He would be there when the time came.

Focus on that, Linka, and not how freaking much you what that time to be now.

Drawing a deep breath, she started to read, realized she'd idly flipped a bunch of pages ahead, and flipped back. She was reading this same book the day she met Lincoln, and it bugged her that since then she'd only read twenty pages since - even completely boy crazy and beside herself with passion, she was able to manage at least a hundred a day.

Honestly, though...she didn't give a flip about this novel, or the protagonist, or the hunky love interest, or even the super cool car chase/shootout that happened ten pages back. She didn't care about anything but Lincoln - if he was here right now, curled up next to her, she'd be so happy she'd take off like a rocket and blast through the ceiling. Oh, Dad would kill her but she wouldn't care.

But he's not here and you won't get to see him for a long time.

Sigh. She didn't know that for sure, but...probably. It was okay, though, no big.

I want to fall asleep in his arms.

She'd manage. Levi did; he never said, but she could tell that he really liked Lisa, and look at him over there...all reading and whatnot. If he could do it, so could she.

If only she could get rid of this awful ache in the center of her chest - it felt like she was being picked at by razor-sharp claws, and her stomach hurt too; every thought of Lincoln sent a ripple through her guts, and since every thought was a Lincoln thought…

I'm still gonna cry.

The words on the page blurred and she could feel a breakdown coming. She snapped the book closed and got up; Luke, Loki, Loni, Leif, and Levi were all watching her, all of them with varying degrees of concern, Levi's the least and Luke's the deepest. "You okay, Link?" he asked softly as she passed.

"I'm fine," she said in a watery rush, "I just need to be alone." She could feel their gazes on her as she fled up the stairs, and she knew that at some point they'd come to make sure she was okay just like the good brothers they were.

For some reason, that did it: She was openly crying when she reached her room, and inside, with the door shut, she flopped onto the bed, buried her face in the pillow, and told it just how sad she really was.

In the living room, Luke and Loki exchanged a worried look. "I'm gonna go see what's wrong," Luke said and started to get up, but Levi cut him off.

"Sit down." He sat his book aside and stood. "I suspect Linka's emotional outburst is the result of a naturally occurring chemical process specific to females, and it would be better that I, being younger and more professional in such matters, and therefore less likely to cause her embarrassment, should be the one to talk to her."

Loni's face crinkled in confusion, and Luke tilted his head. "What the fuck are you talking about?" Loki asked.

"I think she's on her period."

Loni, Luke, and Loki all recoiled while Leif furrowed his brows. "What's her period?"

"I'll explain it later," Levi said and crossed to the foot of the stairs. The older boys watched him go with a mixture of apprehension and pained indecision. They loved Linka as dearly as he did, but each of them were ignorant enough to think of a female's menstrual cycle as some frightening and unstable substance that would blow them to Kingdom Come if so much as even broached. To boys, Levi had found, feminity is a mystery, and the workings of the female body a strange, uncomfortable, and off-putting subject. They relish, in graphic detail, the idea of copulating with it, but ask them to imagine childbirth or menstruation, and they react with revulsion.

Which is precisely why he chose that of all lies. He honestly didn't know when Linka's visit from Aunt Flo was due - he did not chart her cycle because why would he? - but he was almost certain that even if she were on her period, it was not the cause of her peculiar behavior.

The cause was Lincoln.

At the top of the stairs, Levi paused and pinched the bridge of his nose. When Lisa suggested that they introduce Lincoln and Linka - like two pet owners arranging a doggy playdate - Levi was against the idea, but allowed himself to be persuaded because he cared about his sister, and the raging hormones with which she dealt, and the great discomfort they caused her, bothered him. Also because it seemed safer to pair her with Lincoln than to let her happen into a potentially untenable situation with someone else. He did not mean for her to fall in love with him and to suffer the same feelings he did in regards to Lisa; he should have known that she would, though. He should have seen it the moment Lisa mentioned the idea, and he should have stood fast in his refusal to consider it.

Lisa said that he was overprotective of Linka, a charge he denied, but now realized was valid. Would a brother who was not overprotective concern himself with his sister's sex life? Taking a step back and looking at it objectively, his desire to meddle was perplexing and perhaps even unhealthy. He saw her experiencing natural growing pains, and instead of allowing nature of take its course, he asserted himself. He could have, should have, gone about his life and left Linka to her development, and trusted her to eventually make the right choices in matters of boys and sex, but he didn't.

Because he was overprotective.

And his mother henning put Linka in a disadvantageous position - loving someone who was lightyears away. Oh, the trip was easy enough to make, but there were extenuating circumstances at play, and in his foolhardy attempt to help his sister, he wound up hurting her instead.

There was nothing he could do now, the damage had been done and barring the use of a time travel device (of which he had none), it would remain done. The only thing -

He started when his phone buzzed in his pocket.

I swear to God, if it's the Pentagon...

He slipped it out and held it up.

LISA #1 the screen said.

The phone was connected to the tele-dimensional-trans-signifier (the device that allowed for communications between realities, obviously). Lisa never called it, though, and seeing her name sent Levi's stomach dropping; his first thought was that something was wrong.

He swiped his thumb across and lifted it to his ear. "Hello?"

There was a faint hiss of static; the connection between worlds was spotty at times, and never crystal clear even on the best of days. "You're a piss poor pen pal sometimes, Levi," Lisa said.

Levi blinked. "What?"

"I've been trying to reach you via video conference for the past fifteen minutes. I didn't think you left your laboratory for longer than ten."

"I was downstairs," he said, "it's raining and -"

"Here too," Lisa said. "How is Linka?"

Levi glanced at Linka's bedroom door - it was closed and uninviting. "She's reacting as I anticipated."

"She misses Lincoln."

"Yes."

Lisa hummed. "Well, Lincoln asked something of me earlier today that I hadn't gotten around to considering myself. It should make things a touch easier for them."

"What's that?" Levi asked.

"I am modifying Lincoln's mobile phone to send and receive TDTS signals and uplinking it to the TDTS in my lab. Do the same to Linka's."

Levi threw his head back. Why didn't he think of that? Being able to communicate with your other half does indeed blunt the edge - he wasn't in constant contact with Lisa, but having the power to be if he so chose was reassuring. "Alright. I'll do that now."

"Good. I'm almost done with Lincoln's. I'll video call later."

"Alright. Talk then."

He hit the END button, shoved his phone back into his pocket, and went to Linka's door, hesitating before knocking. When she didn't reply, he turned the knob and poked his head in, confident that he would not find her in a compromising position.

She lie prostrate on her bed, her back hitching, and Levi's heart twinged painfully. He cleared his throat and rapped his knuckles against the doorframe. "Linka?"

Linka pushed up and looked over her shoulder; tears shimmered in her eyes and stained her red cheeks. She sniffed, ducked her head as if to hide her shame, and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "I'm fine," she said quickly.

"I just got off the phone with Lisa," he said, ignoring her lame assertion, "give me your cell and I'll modify it so that you and Lincoln may have a direct means of communi -"

Coming alive, Linka leapt to her knees, ripped her phone from her pocket, and held it out with a big, giddy smile that warmed Levi's heart.

"Here, please and thank you!"