Not the Same - Comeback Chapter 2, a loud house fanfic

Here is the next chapter, with a few alterations.

Outskirts of Royal Woods, Michigan...

2023...

In the midst of dawn throughout the city that is simply known as Royal Woods layed the unconscious long lost son, brother, and friend known as Lincoln Loud. For minutes on end the seventeen year old father, survivor, and wanderer has yet to even show signs of waking from his trip to lala land. The only signs of life was his chest moving up and down in rhythmic breathing. On top of the teen, and wrapped around protectively in his limp arms, was his one year daughter, Lyla Loud, or simply, his baby girl. The child couldn't continue the wailing as her young throat has begun to hurt, and with zero results on her father in awakening. Lyla has instead continued to whimper, silent tears fell from her eyes, following the stain paths on her cheeks, wetting the back of her neck and blue blanket she is wrapped in.

With all his gear scattered around them, but visible and reachable, Lincoln was the deﬁnition of a mess. Very much so he was, but that's what six years in hell would do to you—any human being really.

With his stitch ridden jacket opened, revealing his white shirt covered chest underneath. Red blotches of various sizes, big and small, dot and stain the faded, dirt covered white. It doesn't take a genius to ﬁgure out what the red is as some of it is his, while some...not so much. Like his jacket it's torn, pulled, and seen a hell of lot better days...probably. Almost like a repetitive pattern, stitches dot the fabric as well, all of which of various coloured thread he was able to obtain from trade or simple theft from the unsuspecting.

His face was no longer covered by both his scarf and hood. The former pulled down around his neck, and the latter laid bunched up underneath his shoulder blades. Various scars old and new, the new still red and healing, mar his face. To top it oﬀ was the light stubble of chin and upper lip hair on his face, dark bags under his eyes; days to even weeks without sleep clear as this October day they lie under. His white locks, though still white, have seem to darken into a near light grey colour around the tips, no doubt years of stress, alongside his hair was clumps of dirt, a few twigs and leaves that got caught, and a greasy look and touch.

This boy isn't a boy anymore...oh hell no...

Lyla gazed at the blue sky and the white, puﬀy clouds that roamed it as they ﬂoated away or towards the other, combining and creating new and imaginative shapes. Usually, the child would look at it in wonder and try to reach up to at least get a piece of the heaven above them for herself, but she wasn't in the mood. She was scared, and no one can blame the baby. All she felt was the need to be pulled deeper into the strong, warm, and scar ridden arms of her daddy...

Nuzzling closer into his limp limbs and chest the child said only one word, "Dada..."

The bond between father and daughter are strong with these two. Like a small miracle of hope, if that even exists, the young man stirred, mumbling random gibberish to himself, his eyes moving underneath his closed lids in a rapid pace, ﬁnally he gasped, heaved, choked, and coughed on his spit. All he saw was blue, felt the cold breeze on his exposed skin, the hard ground on his back, and his...Lyla!

Lincoln tightened his grip around his baby girl, bringing her closer as he quickly sat up, only to grit his teeth and stiﬂe a growl as the sudden rush hit his skull like a mallet, the pain was bearable but not welcomed at all, yet he pulled through as his attention was mainly set on his little lady.

Breathing back in control, eyes a bit blurry but his vision working, the teen caught a sight that broke his heart; his daughter crying. He felt responsible for this as he wasn't there for her, even though he was passed out he felt it was no excuse.

His near dead, blue eyes and her vibrant green met.

Her tiny arms extended. "Dada!" A smile broke out on her innocent, tear stained face.

The father smiled back, though small, it held immense love for his daughter as he brought her closer to his chest. The child snuggled into him, while he muttered low apologies for her ears only. As if the child could sense his distress and feeling of guilt, Lyla brought a small hand and patted his right cheek, while giggling of course, her laugh and action elicited his own chuckle, though deeper and hollow, it held the very emotion of love he had for her, with a hint of amusement.

"Heh' that's my girl." With a light sigh he took in his surroundings. All of this...it wasn't right...no snow, no lodge's used for cover, and no...Hope...ah...that's right, now he remembers. It all started like that, he thought they would get a lucky break, but yeah right...luck his ass...like that even exists. Then the bodies, the bandits and their ambush...the Puppets and ﬁnally...OH JESUS!

With eyes wide he immediately dug into his scarf, feeling the metal around his neck. Quickly searching, he ﬁnally found the little sonava bitch: the beacon. Tearing it oﬀ, snapping the chain in the process, it hurt but he made no reaction, small bits of metal fell onto the grassy ground. Staring right at it his eyes widen even further, biting back a curse for Lyla's sake when the orb glowed a bright red. He tossed it quick and watched it land a good three-feet away from them, but his slight fear left him when he saw no reaction, no electricity, nothing...

Taking another much needed breath of fresh air.

'Where the hell are we?' He mentally questioned when he took everything in once more, but in true analytical clarity. It was cold, but not Minnesota winter cold, so that's good...unless there's Puppets or, God-forbid, bandits roaming these parts. The former he can deal with since they're predictable, the latter...humans are cruel.

But he had to press on...no other choice in this life of his.

With wobbly legs he forced himself up, nearly falling over, he stood up fully, left hand around Lyla, while the other loose but twitching, almost itching for a confrontation of any. Not his ﬁrst time bashing some asshats skull with one hand.

Feeling Lyla squirm he shook his head to rid the rest of the fuzz in his vision, craning his neck leG and right and sighing in satisfaction from the cracks and pops that came, he looked around and simply walked towards his ﬁrst object of desire, and the most important: the revolver.

All the while his mind was busy in asking itself, while looking into the various possibilities on where they are. It's possible they were sent to some other part of the nation, or world, either way it's all gonna be the same: survive or die. That's one, but the other...scares him...another

dimension...again...that thought made him pale as he slung his axe over his back. It was surprisingly very easy to tell he wasn't on Earth—er...his Earth when he awoke six years ago...no way in hell. But the shock was great when he learned just how fucked up and what he was gonna have to face in that one.

A nightmarish hell that was full of nothing but corpses and forgotten hope that extinguished the light of a past where people can be people and not fear the harsh reality of living monsters, plague of men turned blood lusted animals.

With a resolved look on his face, he bent down and kissed the top of his child's head. Pulling up his scarf that now covered his nose and mouth, zipping up his coat, securing his riﬂe, and slinging his gear over his shoulder as he ﬁnally placed the last bullet into his revolver and clasped the cylinder closed.

The beacon still lied there on the grass from where it landed after being discarded out of slight fear. Lincoln ceased his movements as he stared right at the faded, red orb on a now broken chain. Even after all this time he still couldn't leave it after the fright it brought him and Lyla. The sentimental value was great as it was the last piece of anything physical he had left from his home, his past, his family.

Lincoln slowly walked the ridiculously short distance, bent down and picked up the beacon, gripping it tightly under the palm of his hand, the young man knows it's not a good idea to carry it around after what happened earlier...obviously. But he took the chances and carefully placed it within the dark conﬁnes of his pants pocket.

With a low sigh, taking in the sight of the heavenly blue above their heads, Lyla also looking up as well as she cooed at the beautiful sight above her, Lincoln nodded and picked a direction without a care, and walked.

~oOo~

Loud House Residence

Another lazy Sunday in the Loud house and all of Royal Woods in general, until the dreaded tomorrow know simply as Monday, where work and school would come back full swing. For the former they went about it the best they could, but it was also another day without...him. Six years is a long time.

And anything could happen in those years, especially change. The only that never changes is change after all, be it good or bad, depends really on who it aﬀects, and for the Louds there's good, but there is still bad in the mix...the latter though has been more prevalent during that time, yet it's getting better...slowly.

Under this morning the remaining Loud family, mainly ﬁlled to the literal brim with girls and with just one man in the mix, are all seated in the family table, once known as the grown-ups table, but that was years ago. Each one going about this morning by munching on the delectable, mouth-watering, orgasmic goodness of the patriarchs cooking.

Rita took a sip of her much-needed coﬀee as this drink has become her lifeline for who knows how long and will always as being the mother to these many requires a lot of much needed energy...a shit ton really. But things have calmed down as her daughters have gotten older. She internally frowned from that. Though they are still loud in every way...it isn't the same loud as it was when...her baby boy was still around...it feels as if a pitch or note in their chaotic sympathy just ceased or...died...she pushed that thought far away.

She let her eyes wander on each seat of the table surrounding her. Levelling a quick stare as she took in every individual of her family, her beautiful daughters and her loving husband, a smile etched on her lips. Until her eyes wandered over to a lone chair, left empty for so long she questions why neither of them or herself had taken the liberty to place it away far from their sights from the emotional tearing it causes. The blue of her motherly eyes has seem to fade a bit as a cloud of creeping heartache found its nasty self in.

It hurts. Of course it fucking hurts...who can blame her from feeling like this? She carried him inside her for those nine, long months. Each moment was a blessing and she never regretted it one bit. Now she knows what's it's like to lose a child...and it wasn't his time to leave that nest yet, no way it was. She refuses to believe he is dead. She cannot—won't accept that!

Once more, Rita felt the familiar constriction on her heart and throat, the latter more ﬁercer as she felt as if an imaginary coil just tightened. Taking another much-needed sip of her cup of joe, the mother was able to loosen that tight hold, just a bit.

It was in no way in hell easy...

Time and time again, Rita would daydream what type of young man her little boy would be. She has no doubt he would look tall, strong and handsome type of young man she and Lynn has envisioned and hoped he would become under their and his sister's guidance. She nearly fell into her la la land from just a mere thought of him.

Nibbling on her mouth, savoring bacon slice, closing her eyes as she enjoyed the sensation of deliciousness just like the rest of her daughters...all except one. And she knows this one well.

Rita gazed upon the tired form of her second youngest, Lisa. A small, sad frown on the mother's face as she examined her genius of a daughter. She and Lynn were well aware at what she was doing last night. Like every night she had the chance really. Lisa chewed on her eggs with her usual emotionless expression, well it seems emotionless, but if one were to look closely they could easily see a downcast look. Six years of lack of sleep under her eyes in the form of dark bags, still in her light green pajamas, and hair in various loose strands, tangled and no real care; she was a mess.

Throughout the entirety of this, Einstein has been hit the hardest with guilt and emotional turmoil as she feels she is the one responsible for this mess to begin with. It didn't help as some of her sisters did hold that against her.

Their anger was great, but not as great as their pain that was really in control, not their rationality. She felt she deserved every word. It got to the point where she showed tears and sobbed like the four-year-old she was...that was when Rita and Lynn placed their foots down.

It was a harsh tongue lashing, but it did the trick as the Loud sisters were pulled from their mob mentality, seeing the broken form of their own sibling, witnessing her pain and heart wrenching choked tears made each one feel like complete, utter shit...

They know they can't really blame her...it was an accident...how were they—how was she supposed to know? Shit...shit just happens and no one can see it coming. Though no one can put this all on her, as she didn't mean for it, Lisa cannot help but to feel she is the one who has to make things

right...even if it means damaging herself mentally, emotionally, and putting herself deeper within the rabbit hole of emotions...

And last night did not help one bit...

Each of the Loud sisters, sans Lily, had their own way with coping with this as they know they must continue on and live the lives they were given...it's what Lincoln would've wanted, or so they tell themselves.

Speaking of sisters, or in this case daughters. Rita looked around herself, each one of her daughters, from oldest to youngest, she took them all in.

Lori, now twenty-three years old, and as beautiful as ever or greater than she was six years ago as she matured into the ﬁne young woman she is today, though attitude could still use some work. Currently balancing a schedule of attending the local community college the town has and working at Gus' Games and Grub, has made this Loud quite busy, but she manages well with her time.

Currently she is working alongside her love of her life, her Boo-Boo Bear, or simply, Roberto Santiago, Bobby as everyone knows him, into maybe ﬁnding a place for the two of them as he decided to come back and attend school with her. It's amazing, these two had beat the odds of high school love dying. Their ﬁre still burns bright.

Lori tries her best to push away the emotions threatening to take over as she is, literally, a very emotional girl, but the mere sight or mention of her lost baby brother, stuﬀ or name, has brought her into near tears multiple times, but as the oldest she promised herself to stay strong and keep herself in check...no matter how many times she was caught in a ﬁt of eye sadness.

She knows she wasn't the best older sister as her attitude and haughty nature had put her at odds with her siblings time and time again. She wonders at times if maybe this is god punishing her for her rude actions and painful howling of disdain and fury for anyone trespassing her room...maybe it is...she prays for him...for her Linky...

No matter how many times she has apologized to Lisa that day, she must live with the fact she made another one of her own blood feel as though they are worthless and a literal monster. Promises she tried to keep in the hope of bettering herself have been made, some broken, but she isn't giving up...

No way in hell...

The blonde dunce, Leni Loud, now twenty-two years old, as naive towards the world as ever, but still radiant, caring, and far beyond the word beauty could hope to describe this stupid, cinnamon roll. She tries to keep going, she tells herself that's what Linky would've wanted, not to be sad, but move on and live her life...but it's hard...

Amazingly enough she was able to achieve what most considered impossible for someone of low level intelligence like herself: walking the stage, cap and full gown, a diploma in hand and those who hushed whispered behind her back silent in shock. Her smile was great that day, but wavered as she wished Linky was there to see her, congratulate her, hug her and tell her how proud he is of his big sister. Those eyes, so blue, young and innocent, the young male wonder she grown to love...the eyes she sees in her dreams...and her nightmares.

Sticking home with no job, Leni is one of the few sisters who tries to comfort the genius in the family as she at least knew it was a complete oopsie, and nowhere near anyone's fault. Though there are times where she is the one in need of comfort as her fragile mind would fall into the extremely spacious corner of her inner thoughts and toy with her feelings.

Many times at least one Loud caught her saying the word Linky, laying on her bed with her phone, hugging said device as no doubt the digital picture of her brother was on full screen...

Still rockin, still jammin, and still rupturing ear drums from her deafening, but danceable, singable—straight up jumping while howling at the sky in joy and welcoming rush that is her music. Luna Loud, now twenty-one years old, ﬁnally at the drinking age, not that it mattered when she took her ﬁrst drop at thirteen and continued to do so in every teenage event and concert she went to in the driven mindset of having a great time. A wild one this one is, but that's what her friends and band love about her.

She attends college alongside her big sis, mainly to gain some more ground and the hopes in learning more about her ever growing passion turned way of life known as music. With mastery in her axe, or luv as she calls it, and other instruments of rock, and lovely, lovely, ear noise, Luna has also showed great skill in other instruments like the violin, piano, harp—the damn list goes on and she's darn proud of it.

The noise helps her to cope with what she lost: her baby bro. Always having been close to him since birth. This Loud hurt just as much as her mother had when the grim reality hit her far harder than anything has ever done before. Just like the rest she refuses the mere notion he is...dead...she...her brain in no way can comprehend a horror like that becoming her new reality.

Time and time when she plays to the crowed from her band's gig's, she pretends that he's there, roaring, clapping, cheering—just straight up supporting her with his smile.

Luna can't lie and say she hasn't walked inside his room, without anyone knowing. Never had his little domain been touched by others than herself, or so she thinks. In tired sweat from pouring her heart and soul and shredding her luv, she curled on top his sheets, taking in the fragrance of her bro, Bun-Bun pulled close to her breast...that night was a great night.

She has found the notion of the boy still holding on to a stuﬀ rabbit adorable, if not a bit strange, but she can't judge after all, everyone is diﬀerent, sides, what the hell is normal...then the rabbit was stolen...by someone no one expected.

Luna continues to see the bright side, but there will always be a time where the brightness will be clouded by a dark cover of shadows and emotional scars. From just looking at Lisa shows the rocker she doesn't have it as bad. Luna feels for her younger sister, but no matter how hard she tries to console the genius, it's not as easy as it sounds as they were never close in the ﬁrst place, she just leaves Leni and Lily to it.

For now...she'll continue to strum on her luv...and hope the tune doesn't get cut.

Ever the jokester, Luan Loud, now twenty-years old, grown, losing the braces as ﬂawless, white teeth are shown from her beautiful smiles and contagious laughs, this Loud has made her dream come true in providing laughter and joy to others in the local comedy clubs of their town, plus with more and more still subscribing in her channel this clown was happy with her young life.

Always looking at the bright side, eh chuckles? When you look at it, who the fuck wants to keep looking into the bad? No matter what she will always miss the piece of her life, miss his smiles that she knows well, miss him and only him for he is her baby brother and she the big sister, but Luan knows she can't carry around herself the air of suﬀocating sadness, so she kept going, for herself and him.

She would latch on to her roommate whenever a bad dream were to strike or she was lost within her thoughts, the mind can be a scary place. Wetting Luna's shoulder as she muﬄes her tears and gags on her turmoil.

There were times where she would step into his room, believing she was the only one to do so, sit down on top his bed, and just take it all in. Memories would ﬂash right before her eyes during those nights as she would remember and let out a slight giggle from every time they were to barge in like the untamed female storm they were. Whenever she had a joke that just popped in mind and she open his door and tell him, not even minding the groan, as long as she told him.

One night, she searched in his desk drawer, digging her hand she stiﬂed a gasp as she found an old card with his face on it, a wide open smile on his face, black shirt and his hand writing, the words 'Funny Business' on the front, faded and old she knew what it was...the identity card she made for him when she needed an assistant during that time...

Luan cried that night, she was glad his room was far more soundproof than theirs, as her sobs were great, powerful and full of pain as she kept it all in for damn too long.

She would never hold this against her other baby sister, Lisa, but she couldn't help but to express the negativity that came out her mouth from all this...at times she wishes she didn't get so wrapped up in the whole singular mindset they have whenever a dark situation were to befall on them. She's tried her damndest to have Lisa at least smile and feel, well, alive, she has to deal with Lucy, but this is something else on its own.

She'll be here and try to help as much as she can. All she can do now is hope.

Sides being beautiful, can kick your ass in a multitude of ways and each ends with the dipshit who started it on the ﬂoor broken and coughing out a couple teeth, and master 'bout every physical sport known to man, Lynn Loud Jr, now nineteen-years old has changed a lot throughout the entirety of these long six years.

A lot mainly comes in the form of physical as this tomboy has grown more in the feminine department as she displays beauty in looks and body, while keeping her ﬁerce competitive mindset strong and continues to do so whenever she hangs out with her friends on the weekends, playing their usual games of football, basketball, hockey, whatever that gets her to sweat or at least get the blood pumping.

Currently undecided, she has opted to stay home, and think of many of the numerous career choices, but none have really caught her fancy, but it'll come to her...eventually.

Never was one to show oﬀ "weak side" as she called it, Lynn was prone to many emotions, anger being the most well known as she displayed that well after that nightmare of a day. Alongside various other emotions she never thought she would ever show or held before. She would feel the brunt of her parents tongue lashings, bringing her back to her senses as she also felt like shit for saying all those things to Lisa, even as nearly going completely physical on her.

She questioned many aspects of herself after that...

She questioned if she even knew how to show love to her only brother 'sides physical pain, forcing him into her games, or the constant teasing and name calling. She placed them down as ways to toughen him up as she saw his people as feeble and nerdy like him are eaten alive by the sharks of this world. Constantly bullied and picked on, she did not want her brother to be some ﬁshy to a shark. But, looking deeper into it, they were never that close in the ﬁrst place...they were when they once shared a room until Lucy was born, but their personalities soon showed and things changed...

Loss is something Lynn hates. She always wants to be on top, number one, a winner that pulls her team onto the pedestal of greatness, but this...who the fuck is the winner? This wasn't a game. There is no loser or winner, none.

Her cocky smile would waver, forcing the jock to excuse herself as she tries to gain control of her powerful, nerve racking emotions that just want release, just a little.

That release came when one night. On the second year she stood in front of her baby brothers' bedroom door, gazing longingly at the wooden barrier, an almost lost look on her face, all in pyjamas, she took a breath and turned the knob, it came fast and it came strong. Tears fell from her eyes as she saw it all in front of her play-out again; the time she bunked with him, Dutch ovens, barging in, all of it...

Then there was Bun-Bun. She would question why a boy would still need something as stupid and ﬂuﬀy like this around him and his life after all this time. There were times she wanted to throw that old toy away in the attempt to have him grow up and grow a pair, but...when she lifted that stuﬀ bunny, the soft fabric between her ﬁngers, she felt secure...safe...like he was there the entire time. Like Luna, she curled under the sheets, pulling Bun-Bun tightly against her bosom, a smile—a true happy smile on her face as she sleeps soundly. Even after the dawn breaks, after she ﬁxes the bed to show no evidence of her nights—yes nights. Many of them.

She...just couldn't stand the thought of not having that rabbit with her...she took it...

Thus chaos followed...

Of course, she was caught, by Lucy of course. What followed was a literal battle for the bunny by many of the sisters as Lynn was not letting go, and who can blame her? She needed security, but so did many of the others.

Arguing, ﬁghting, cursing, and old wounds opened and ﬂowed with a sick grin on its face. Ending when their mother took the rabbit, a pained expression on her face from just touching it, feeling it on her ﬁngers.

Now Bun-Bun sits in a small box, locked, key with their father, to never be opened...

Lynn now has control of herself, but she will feel that same waver on her lips. She wishes she can make it up, start over, to at least say how much she loves him through an embrace and a kiss on the cheek, never will she let go...

Now this one...

As dark as midnight, and a mind blanketed by darkness and the fascination of the supernatural and anything spiritual, Lucy Loud, now fourteen years old, grown, though still a bit short, she possess the type of mysterious beauty a girl her age has developed.

With hair grown longer, her right eye now visible, her neutral expression never changing, this goth still goes about her life in a dark outlook, if not far more pitch black than she had six years ago...

Lincoln was her light, one of the very few, if any she had, sans her family, but his bulb was brighter and far more powerful. Now that light is extinguished, as if the switch it was connected to was pulled down and broken apart, beyond repair.

As others would see her as that gothic weirdo, or emo freak, freak in general as she can only ﬁnd solace in those like her, Haiku and her companions in the Morticians Club. Lincoln did not, and she loved him for that. He saw her as simply as a girl, not like some strange outcast of society, he saw her as her, his baby sister, and he never saw it diﬀerently.

Taking the blame of a notorious toilet incident he has done many times before until the actual day he was incident of said crime, assisting her in her poetry in the need of words that rhyme, or by just listening to her strange dreams—even if he doesn't want to, or by just being there. A big brother he was and the only one she needed.

Now he's gone...

Yes Lucy cries, any human being, even one supposedly devoid of human emotions, can cry and cry she has. But her sobs did not come in the form

of wails, instead her body convulsed as slight squeaks and coughs escaped her lips. A heart wrenching sight if any were to witness it in person.

Pushing aside others, nearly completely as she still converses with her family, but not by a large margin as she also distanced herself from them as well.

She loves all her sisters, of course she does. She understands what happened was an accident, she held her tongue while others did not for the genius of their pact, but she couldn't look at Lisa the same, a lot of trust was lost that day.

There were moments where she wanted to lay on her on brothers bed and shut her eyes and let what she hopes are pleasant dreams roll in, but she never found the strength to even step close to his door. Even when her ﬁngers dared to brush on the knob she would reel back in a panic.

Thus she avoids it all, even Bun-Bun as she couldn't take part in that mess called tug-o-war on that emotion driven aGernoon when she saw Lynn cradling that rabbit in her sleep.

She wants it all to end, but she knows clearly how cruel reality is, how much it doesn't simply give one ounce of a fuck for any of them...

Two pairs. Both with the same face, but with a diﬀerent mind and passion. One reﬁned and beautiful like a princess, but possessing the bark and bite of an out of control aristocrat and 1800's slave master. The other dirty, sloppy, a lover of nature and beautiful in her own way as she not afraid to ﬂing mud to your face.

The twins. Lola and Lana.

Lana Loud, now twelve years old, and being the oldest of her twin by a just a few minutes, has changed in the physical aspect by quite a bit. No longer is she that little tomboy that hangs out with frogs and kisses lizards, now she's the big tomboy that still kisses lizards and prefers slimy frogs then actual human company.

Ever the handy woman, her skills in repair in any ﬁeld of house, car and plumbing maintaince has grown and reﬁned that it's practically second nature to this grease monkey.

Though as she aged, so has insecurities grew as she became more self- conscious on how others, 'specially males her age would look at her, but reassurance from her twin eased her mind as though the two would ﬁght, throw things at the other, bite, wrestle, kick, yank hair, and punch until there is bruising, the twins will never separate as their love is strong.

Like the others she wants things to go back to the way it was six years ago. She regrets barking at her younger sister fully, but her emotions were in total whack when Lisa said how she lost his signal.

There were times she would absentmindedly rush to her big bros room out of a habit, only to see the harsh reality of their situation press on her shoulders, making her shut the door and back track to her room with a downed expression, a sigh and a "I forgot" escaping her lips. Having such a close relationship with him hurt her in ways she never thought a person could be hurt as she realized emotional pain is the worst pain ever. These scars just wound heal, they won't even leave her alone at times.

As Lola was his princess, Lana would picture herself as his 'Mud Princess' as strange as it sounds, though she would never admit how much she wishes he would call her that at least once.

The afternoon when Lynn was found with Bun-Bun, hell, Lana never thought she would ﬁght so hard for something as boring and childish like a stuﬀed rabbit, but it was his and she wanted to hold it at least once. In the end it hurt even more by just looking at the stuﬀ toy as much as it pained her to see it locked away.

She's glad she isn't alone in this. Lana knows she has to keep moving, who knows, she thinks to herself each chance she gets he'll be back...one day.

Like her twin, at twelve years old, Lola Loud has grown in beauty and height, still competing and winning crown after crown, trophy after trophy with her streak unbeaten and feared or respected, or both.

Like many of her sisters who preform on stage, she imagines Linky is there, praising her, joy just for her as he is the drive that keeps her going in her competitions. Reﬂecting on the past has riddled this Loud in guilt as she, like Lynn, feels guilty, bitchy really, as she has threatened him time and time again, has physically harmed him for her intentions, but she saw the good times as they acted as little sisters and big brothers should...

The princess may have grown, she may have gained an entourage in school for her looks, popularity soaring, but she still feels empty as she wants Linky back—needs Linky back. Never has she been yelled at so hard by her parents as her screams made Lisa cry, it was what she said that drove the genius over the edge and nearly ruined their relationship. She hates herself for that...she hates her attitude, but she can't change it no matter how hard she tries...somethings cannot be simply changed for a person.

The times she would cry, she would cry with her twin. Both holding on, promising not to let go until all their tears are shed.

Lola also cannot lie that she hasn't attempted in breaking the lock on Bun- Bun's "prison".

If there is one person who had it the worst, it's the prodigy of the family. At ten years old, Lisa Loud has said sorry more times than she ever imagined. Hands achey from nights of sketching plans and formulas, head dizzy from lack of sleep that she runs solely on coﬀee until her father forced her to stop and sleep, while standing next to her bed, never leaving for those long hours as he couldn't stand the sight of his own child hurting herself so.

Lisa wants to right her wrongs...she wants to see him again, if she has to she will fall, and has, on her knees and beg for this to end and to have her sole male sibling back. Her big brother...fuck just a sign is all she needs. Last night was that sign, but it failed...it always fails.

Teleportation. She remembers that day, all of it. How she wanted to show her grand creation, her hard work. They played 'not it' of course he lost. A lab rat he was, the rat he played, though with a smile of nerves on his face he took the ﬁrst step, the door closed, a raised thumbs up, then 'ZAP!'

The chaos that ensued as the machine backﬁred, she remembers his screams of fear, hands smacking against the glass, then the echo that still haunts her dreams to this day.

She felt she deserved every word her sisters dished on her. Each one made her want to cry, and it had. Lola's broke the damns as her human side showed, a waterfall of great magnitude, her mother cradling her against her chest, yet she never stopped crying.

She felt it was duty, her complete obligation to make things right as she saw the fault was hers and hers alone. But time and time her family would force her to stop, to at least sleep. She can't keep doing this to herself...

For those years the lessened volume of chaos and destruction came from her as she muted her noise of experiments, not one trinket was created by her hands as she focused soley on her self driven mission.

When the battle for Bun-Bun happened, Lisa didn't even participate, instead the genius took a much-needed break and sat herself on her brother's bed, locking the door, utilizing the noise cancelation as silent tears feel from her green orbs. That day she fell asleep on his bed, no dreams, nothing but a blank canvas of nothingness...it was the best sleep she ever had...

Finally, the youngest. Though no longer a year old, she is still the baby of the family. Lily Loud, now seven years old. Out of everyone else, she has changed the most in every way.

Now able to say full sentences instead of just "Poo-Poo" when she was just a baby, this child has grown taller, smarter and her own person. With a fascination in dance this Loud is graceful on the stage, and a smile as pure and innocent as she is adorable.

The seven-year-old never knew her brother as she was far too young during the time, absolutely no recollection of him at all as all she knows is his name and the pictures of him that hang around the house and the old scrapbooks her parents keep.

Though, being as young as she is, Lily has snooped around and found her way into her brothers room, curiosity was great in this one. It felt strange, almost...she doesn't know how to describe the feeling when the door closed she jumped. But she was determined. Her ﬁndings interest her as she found a whole lot of stuﬀ, but two things in general stuck out the most: his comic collection and video games. Lily had actually read each one, she can't help but to admit that Ace is quite a read. But it was the video games that caused an incident she wants to forget.

Simply, Lily plugged in his old gaming console, Muscle Fish, her ﬁrst choice. She played away, until Leni saw her. The reaction of her older sister scared her as she watched her freeze like a deer, lip quivering as tears fell from her eyes, the others later found Leni hugging her knees, Lily felt terrible.

Though she was reassured it wasn't her fault, she made sure not to touch that game, or any of his stuﬀ as she feared another would fall into a panic of sorts.

She wished she knew her brother, she wished her family would stop hurting, she wishes that Lisa would stop ruining herself, she wishes...she wishes she knew what was life before. Was it happy? Were they happy?

All she can do is watch.

As well as Rita. The mother took in another sip of her hot drink, another day as a Loud. Rita held her gaze on the youngest, Lily, still in her pyjamas, as she came home earlier as she didn't want to miss her father's cooking, humming a light tune.

"How was the sleepover, sweetheart?" Rita asked her daughter.

Lily looked up at her mother, cheeks puﬀed up like a squirrel, but replace the acorns with eggs, it was adorable as Rita and a few others laughed at the sight.

Swallowing, "It was good, mom!" A happy expression on her face, "Me, Miranda, Jane, and Sarah had such a great time, we-" what came next was the girl raising her hands and listing oﬀ each activity she took part of with her friends. Leni and Lola taking control of the conversation when she mentioned makeovers.

Rita smiled, her husband chuckled behind his newspaper. Just another day...

~oOo~

With Lincoln and Lyla...

Some random road...

It was so blue. The type of blue he hasn't seen for so long. One he has waved oﬀ without a care as he walks to the destination in his mind when he was just a mere boy, not a single eye batted at the sky above. A beauty he and many others never noticed as they went along with their lives.

Lincoln looked up, he took it all in, bit by bit, every passing white marshmallow known as a cloud, the streaks of white leG behind to morph and combine or dissipate into nothingness...beautiful.

So used he was at the dark greys that twisted and wrapped around the other, a darkness warped with emotions of the negative side. The scent of hatred, distrust, and inhuman roars and violence in the air. The type of scent he has grown numb to. One that infected him in its spell.

Continuing on with a slight smile on his face when he felt his daughter squirm in her comfy conﬁnes as she continued to reach towards the canopy above, her eyes set on every cloud that met her vision.

'At least she's occupied,' he would take it to have sometime for himself, to think and watch the world around him.

The frown reappeared, though covered by his scarf, slight creases were made in the outline of his expression. All stemming from the sight infront of him...

Nothing...absolutely nothing. He's ok with nothing, a breather he would see it, a blessing even when there are no bandits, Puppets, or even uniforms roaming the roads, but this nothing...it felt almost uncomfortable.

Barren. The path ahead and behind them held nothing. So used he was at the dreary skies from the world of nightmares, he was also used to the

husks and acting tombs of forgotten cars and other vehicles leG behind during the initial years of the panic, the later rise of the Puppets, and so on. Not one single hunk of forgotten metal on wheels in sight.

Even as he kept walking in a controlled pace, no real direction, his eyes were lost in a sea of memories. Remembering the numerous paths he took with Liz as the two of them roamed the nation. That American Dream she called it. That brought a small smile on his face, as well as slight pain in chest.

Liz...

Tightly shutting his eyes, a low shaky breath escaped his lips. He has to keep going. One direction and that's straight.

Looking down on his baby girl, it amazes him that he has helped in creating this precious joy of his, alongside Liz of course. A brother, son, survivor, scavenger, murderer, thief, and now a father...all at seventeen. Who ever thought his life would turn out like this? Oops, also add in dimensional— accidental dimensional— traveller in the mix too. Crazy ain't it?

But not as crazy as the people driving behind him, eyes set on the young man as they wondered why a kid was in the middle of the road. Linc felt and heard the vibrations and roar of the vehicle behind him. Instincts kicked in as he shielded Lyla, right hand going for the revolver on his waist, but he was too slow as the car sped past them, horn honking with the driver sticking the middle ﬁnger while screaming, "Fuck out of the road!"

Both were startled, Lyla whimpered a bit. Linc's eyes widened by a fraction as he was surprised for multiple reasons. One was that car was no way the shape or form of any of the vehicles used by the military, only the military had access to vehicles as everyone else had to rely on horses or their feet for transportation. Two was that he able to see how clean it was; no scratches, stains, or any rust. The third reason that stumped him was that they didn't stop or shoot at him.

Any one lucky enough to have a car—one that works that is, would've just run him and Lyla over, rip their corpse oﬀ the front hood, and take his stuﬀ.

"What the hell?" He muttered lowly. Being ﬂipped oﬀ and told fuck in many ways was no surprise to the teen, but that was weird.

Shaking his head, he kept moving, looking behind his shoulder every now and again out of paranoia. With soft whispers he cradled Lyla and soothe his child from the jump scare.

The walk continued on without any interruptions, Lyla making up gibberish and pointing at anything that moved in her sight, and Lincoln, tired, sore all over, and hungry...yep! Just how he always feels...

Until...

Up a slight hill, feeling his pack slap against his back, the wind continues to blow, and Lyla ﬁdgeting, the young man caught a sight that froze him in his tracks when the words were clear as this day.

Welcome to Royal Woods!

All in bold letters, held by a sign, an arrow pointing straight ahead...he read it again...

And again...

Once more...

And a ﬁnal time...

His eyes stayed glued on the piece, the welcome gesture it held lost on him, only surprise or any emotion really came from the widening of his blue orbs, ﬁlled and displaying a multitude of clashing feelings as he stares at those two words. Words he hasn't heard or even said, as it would drive him into a pathetic rut.

But this...

Lincoln was no genius, not even close, but he placed the pieces together, still he couldn't believe at what he saw. Lyla felt her father shake. The type of shaky feeling where one is losing every bit of control of his or her emotional mindset. The type where one might break.

To think after all these years—this fucking hell! He...ﬁnally...so many times he has yearned for this day, but as the days came and went, the seasons changed, the blood staining his hands that never could be washed oﬀ in the streams and rivers, after all this time...

He buried this away with who he was a long time ago.

Now, to him, it's like a big fuck you in the face. A sick joke...and he's laughing...

It started small, a slight vibration in the back of his throat that just grew as more of the same raspy sound came to life, ﬁlling his and Lyla's ears, the child still confused.

Is this god ﬁnally taking pity on him?

He fell on his knees, ignoring the pain as he hit the asphalt with a 'thump'.

Laughter growing in whole new levels. Lyla has heard her father laugh before, but his tone was merely just low chuckles, never ya she heard him create this sound...it scared her.

It sounded broken...yet relieved?

Without even the slightest care more cars passed by, passengers caught the strange sight of a messy garbed teen and baby in a sling, the former laughing his ass oﬀ at the sky.

After all he's done, after all the miles he's traveled, the bodies left behind, the horrors he has witnessed ﬁrst hand...it ﬁnally ends. Lost in this slight madness, one he kept in for so long. The father's howling fell, quieter and quieter until all that was left was slight hiccups of his cackle.

Ceasing it all at once, yet his body convulsed, the boy placed his right palm on his hair, under his hood, the pain in his eyes visible as he ﬁghts his damnedest to not cry—not even one tear...not again. A promise to never cry, a promise aGer she died. He had to be strong, cannot show an ounce of weakness for anyone...not even his own daughter...but this was too much. Biting on his lower lip to the point blood spilled, leaking into his mouth, coating his tongue in its irony taste. He—

"Dada..." her voice will always bring him back, no matter the situation just the call of his daughter will do. Flickering his eyes down on his child, he caught the sight of her concern, a tiny mittened hand extended towards him, the singular goal of calming her daddy, to bring him happiness in his despair. A tear rolling down her—wait...those are not her tears...

The young man was confused when he saw saw water on her cheek, sliding downward, he thought that it could be rain, but the skies were still clear, no droplets from the sky, from the sky mind you. Then another, right where the ﬁrst landed, and he now knew where it came from. Bringing a ﬁnger to his right eye he felt the cool, liquid from his own. Rubbing away the tears he ﬂashed his baby girl a quick smile, showing he is ok. He is, but he isn't as well...He felt like doing many things: pulling his hair until strands are torn oﬀ, screaming at the heavens so his voice can be heard, to straight up pounding his ﬁst on something solid until his knuckles are sore and his skin is torn...anything. But he knew he couldn't. Suck it up.

Pulling himself back up on his feet, he knew what he had to do. Something he only thought possible in his dreams.

Craning his head downwards he pressed his lips on Lyla's forehead, wiping his tears away from her cheek, he had a new resolve.

"Come on, baby girl...there's some people I want ya' to meet...people you'll love, and will love you back..."

His sights set on the city ahead, he took the ﬁrst steps, these faster than the ones previous, he had one objective in mind:

Going home...

~oOo~

Royal Woods

He hated the various eyes set on him and his baby. Eyes ﬁlled with judgement, disgust, and accompanied by pointed ﬁngers as the pedestrians of his old home ultimately fail at subtlety. Trained ears catching every whisper, yet he presses on. Jacket moving in tandem with his movements and the wind that lessened in its cold kisses.

He winced when the noise kept coming, having forgotten the crowded echos from a city long ago as the closet that ever came to this level would be the out laying villages and small towns, but even then their sound would be muted by these people.

Lincoln stood out like a sore thumb. Everthing he wore screamed outsider, or in this case, hobo, as everyone saw him as such, others commenting and surprised at the fact he has a baby in his grasp, some showing sympathy as they silently pity the child for having a father as worthless like him.

He narrowed his eyes as he muttered "Bitch" under his breath from the woman that held no dignity to keep it to herself as she uttered those insults alongside her girlfriends.

He sighed, knowing he has to have control of himself, digging deep to ﬁnd what shred of his old life he had left was not easy as he grew used to the ﬁghting, cursing and biting back against others barks. A way of a life he adopted as he knew he had to be strong and push his way threw, though he does not care on how these people see him, he only cares if they dare utter a sentence that involves his daughter.

Lincoln hates ﬁghting. But at times he has no choice. Survive or die, pick one.

Each step he took brought back memory aGer memory of his past, his eyes darting back and forth at the sights of well maintained buildings, not forgotten husks taken over by Mother Nature as she wrapped her vines and let her green seed grow around the modern structures built and abandoned by man.

This is his home, yet he feels as if he is nothing more than a stranger. Culture shock he supposes, and that's saying something. He spent more time in this world than the other, but he still felt strange for being here, even standing under the sun brought an uncomfortable knot in his stomach.

Slowly he remembered the direction to take as it all came back from each inch of his destination. Pulling Lyla closer to his chest when he caught the sight of oﬃcers of the law giving him a nasty look. Following him as he passed the curb and turned left down the street.

He did not fear them. Hell no. These boys in blue were more like annoyances than anything else. Having faced worst before, they wouldn't even last an hour in his shoes if faced against bandits, uniforms or Puppets. The law had no say, or any real meaning in that hell. Though few in rules, they were more like suggestions than anything else. The only "laws" came from the military and any of the villages that seem to have some civility left, but for the former, it always ends in a bullet in the head.

Or your head chopped oﬀ...Wait no...that's the bandits...wait no...bandits rape then kill, or was it kill then rape? Eh' to confusing. Either way, don't fuck up, steal someone's shit, kill another without knowing the consequences, and you won't die...probably.

Lyla was feeling something else entirely. At awe this one year is at the new sights infront of her. Never in her year of life has she seen a city that is alive and not a corpse of metal and concrete leG to fester in the rot of infection.

Cooing at every little structure she saw, giggling from the people conversing on cell phones, unaware really at anything that has happened throughout this whole ordeal.

"Isn't it too early for Halloween?" "Why's he covering his face?"

"Look at his shoes, I mean, damn. What's with the red paint?"

He really hated crowds now. Part of him missed where people back in that world would keep to themselves and such the fuck up if they didn't want to get shot up by some others gun.

Speaking of gun. Lincoln had to smack himself into forgetting the whole mindset of his original society. A no, no to guns or something like that he guesses. Plus cops. Yeah he didn't feel like getting frisked and taken away, and god forbid, have Lyla removed from him as well...that's a nightmare he doesn't want to come true.

Keeping his revolver hidden was simple, but for his axe and riﬂe? For the former he had to remove the axe head and place stuﬀ is deep within the back of his pack, tying the wooden handle around the left arm strap, simply letting it hang loose. Dissembling his riﬂe was also an easy task, but the issue was space, a chore it was to push down and make room, but it was done.

One more turn, and it led him to a stop.

Forgetting the passerby's, his eyes were set dead on his reﬂection from the large window of a shop. Blinking as he took it all in, Lyla moving her head, so she too saw herself, as always, she stretched and reached, giggling a storm. Up and down, down and up he took himself in.

The little boy is gone...dead...

His head turned, wordlessly he continued down the path which would take him to Franklin Avenue. Drowning out the sound as he decided to pass the time, as he always does, by telling his daughter some random tale of a random time.

Down a ﬁxed path a broken lad walks with a bundle of his hope in his hands...

~oOo~

Franklin Avenue

My god, isn't it such a beautiful day? That question came from the eldest Yates sister and sibling, Beatrix Yates. The light tanned young woman kept her ever-present smile (creepy as hell) as she hummed a merry tune as she walked down her street, away from her parents' home as she was oﬀ to volunteer at the local soup kitchen.

With all her assignments done for the day, no doubt all will end her up with great grades as she stands as top of her classes in college, this Yates has a bright future ahead of herself, she opted to instead help people then laze the day away, sides being lazy isn't well rounded, not one bit.

Though there is one problem. Smiling wide and having your eyes closed shut while walking isn't such a good idea as collided with a strong force, leading to her to let out an adorable yelp of surprise and slight pain.

Rubbing her nose, the young Yates woman caught the sound of a slight growl, a males one at that, the sound brought some discomfort into her being, but she placed it aside as she wanted to know who she stumbled on to by accident.

Forced to crane her neck up as he toward her with ease, Beatrix froze a bit, a hint of uncertainty and slight mix of fear from the eyes she made contact with boring into her inner most self, as if he studying her soul. It was as if they were...dead...eyes of a dead man...a faded light that once ﬂickered.

He coughed, she caught him cradling a small bundle, curious she was, and brought back into reality. Her smile back, but with a slight quiver of unease. Before she was to speak, he beat her to it.

"Watch where your walking." His voice deep and rough, the same growl from earlier lingering from each word that left his lips. She gasped as she caught the sound of slight gibberish, one of a higher pitch as she saw the sight of a baby in his arms, the bundle she deduced.

Feeling guilty as she feared she may have harmed the child. "Oh! I'm so sorry, sir." She took the chance to look him up and down, taken back from his appearance and lack of expression of any as his face was covered by a scarf and hood, only his blue eyes were leG open to the world. The mere sight of him screamed poverty. Rags and an overly large pack on his back.

She didn't want to be rude as she was raised not to be. Shaking her head. "I didn't see you approach an-"

He raised a hand, shutting her up. Breathing deeply, Lincoln didn't want to deal with this, though this girl looked familiar. Teal jacket and hair band, nice complexion, pretty she was, her eyes told him all he needed to know:

Innocent, naive, someone who would believe any lie another were to spun to gain sympathy. A sheep that would be eaten by the wolves.

"It's ﬁne...just please...watch where your going." Lincoln didn't want to be rude, he hates to be, but it's necessary at times. Better to move along than keep talking.

Beatrix nooded, but still felt bad as her collision could've injured the baby in his arms. "I will, but is there any way I could make it up to you?" Her smile coming back, strong as before.

Lincoln cringed from her smile. She really did remind him of someone, or was it more than just one? It's fuzzy. Just her overly friendly tone and naivety makes the young man picture what someone like her, a pretty little thing, would be put through for an act like this. No doubt viscously raped over and over again, the seed of her deﬁlers and tormenters ﬁlling her up until they get bored and opt on a game of rock-paper-scissors to see who waste their bullet on her...

Jesus, is he fucked in head... But he still holds kindness...

Lincoln decided the hell with it and took her up on her oﬀer, sides, like said before, his mind is a little fuzzy.

"You can actually." Beatrix's expression lightened, looking expectantly at the stranger infront of her. "This is Franklin Avenue, right?"

Absentmindedly, Lincoln placed a hand in front of Lyla, letting the baby grip her father's limb and play with his ﬁve digits.

Beatrix nodded with a hum, eyes set on his, but he caught a slight aversion from her stare.

"Why yes it is."

Lincoln hummed, "Good." Motioning his head straight ahead. "And the Loud house is just up ahead, right?"

Now this caught her oﬀ guard. Beatrix was unsure as to why this dirt covered...is that red paint? Person asked her that. Curiosity in full swing, she nodded and before she was to even ask as why he already side stepped her and walked straight ahead.

"Thanks..." Lincoln gave a slight wave, his back to her.

With a hand outstretched. "Wai..." the words died in her mouth. The Yates girl was confused, taken back and was...interested? She didn't know why but the way he carried himself brought more questions than answers...

'Strange' she thought to herself.

She knew the Louds, but not in a personal level, the only real time she had any moments with them was when her parents, she, and her siblings had some fun with them. She got to know Lynn Jr from kicking a soccer ball around, but either than that, well there is something else...the whole neighbourhood knew and she and everyone else couldn't help but pity them. She cannot imagine the pain of losing a member of your own, though she has no idea—no one does really—on what happend with the only male sibling in their pact...

Why did his eyes seem familiar?...

Oh well. Beatrix shrugged and resumed her previous walk, destination in mind, overly large and unnecessary smile wide as ever, she went about her day.

'What a strange man.'

~oOo~

Loud House Residence...

With one hand he pulled apart his hood and scarf, face now visible to the world around him. Chewing on his bottom lip, still tasting the irony sensation from the torn skin, the blood ﬂowing from within his mouth...the only thing keeping him calm from what's about to happen in such a short time.

The years have been long and agonizing, but they seem to ﬁnally end. All the paths he took all lead to this one moment.

Just by looking at the house in front of him reminded him of a picture. A still image frozen in time as it all didn't seem to change one bit from when he was younger. Same colours, same blasted frisbee on the roof that never seemed to leave its spot, even in the most craziest of storms...

And he's seen crazy...

Before he was to take the ﬁrst step of what he hoped to be end of his internal hell, Lincoln placed a hand inside his inner pocket of his jacket, pulling out a tin ﬂask, small dents here and there and smears of various colors creating a sickly yellow hue. Unclasping the top he pressed the drink holder onto his lips, shivering from the cool sensation the metal held, but relishing from the warm, almost ﬁery feeling running down his throat, no doubt destroying his liver in the process... But he loved it...the numbing...

Letting the burn sink in his pipe the teen safely clasped shut and placed his poison away into the inner conﬁnes of his coat.

A sight Lyla was used to many times before and may grow up around her whole life as she always saw her father with that ﬂask between his lips at least once, twice, even more than three times a given day...or an hour. She doesn't understand as she is just a baby, but it seems to put her daddy at ease, so what's the harm?

Sucking in a much needed breath, Lincoln silently nodded his head, a ﬁxed gaze at the door leading to what he lost, he took the ﬁrst step...

The second...

Third...

He soldiered on even when a part of him wanted to stop and turn back. A sense of fear pushing its way in as it yells at him to leave as he is not welcomed, how even if they do recognised him they would want nothing to do with a monster whos white skin was dyed in red.

He ignored it...he accepted that he's a monster...what's there left to call him? Hmm? What's left?...

A future, but not for him. His mind was set on giving the child hanging by a sling a future where she won't have to live in fear, forced to look over her shoulder every ﬁve seconds, where her smiles will shine brighter than the glares her world is known for...

Where she can grow to be the beautiful, young woman he and Liz hoped for her to be...

Strike him down, end his life, leave him broken and bleeding, but let his baby girl live and be happy...that's all he asks.

And this is the chance...where people can be people, not animals...

Feet ﬁnally above the steps of the front porch, a shaky hand was raised, ready to smack against the red door infront as he knew only a non-Loud would ring the doorbell, sending them a body full of electricity and a lasting pain for minutes on end.

He stopped. Lincoln took the time to listen to the sounds coming from behind the barrier. Arguing, screaming—the good type of arguing and screaming, not the ones where others bicker on who gets to kill who, not the screams of fear and the roaring of the monsters from behind...it was the type of sounds only a family were capable of...one his ears longed for...

Finding his balls, his knuckles met the door roughly. One knock after the other, each louder than the previous, enough to silence the noise by just a small margin, so his sound can be heard. Taking a step back as he heard a muﬄed, "Coming!" That voice...

His heart raced from the turn of the knob and the creaking of the door as it opened, Lyla silent as well as she slowly became sleepy from the peaceful air around her. Her eyes were just roaming the skies in hope of anything intersting were to soar above her.

Lincoln's jaw nearly dropped from the young woman in front of him.

Beautiful she was, mature, her favorite color purple seen from her mascara, highlights on her hair, and clothing, purposely torn in some areas. Though he towered her, Lincoln felt small from just her appearance.

'Lulu...' just one sister and he wanted to cry...

Luna had to look up to address the stranger in front of her. "Sup dude, can I help ya..." the words died in her tongue when her eyes were set on his face, not even noticing the bundle in his arms, mainly on him as if a ghost stood before her.

For what felt like forever, the two of them stared at the other, neither breaking away as they examined the every unique feature their faces held.

He found no ﬂaw in her face, just a one-of-a-kind beauty she held with pride. The freckles that dotted her cheeks just added to that rockin beauty, her eyes...still as green and powerful as he remembered. The same young woman—his sister—that held the aura of coolness, someone you can trust to have your back and give you a hell of a good time from just a random jam session, or by attending one of her shows...

His sister...big sister...his Lulu...god does he want to wrap his arms around her, let out all the void he kept deep in the pits of his mind, alongside his humanity...he wanted to feel her warmth...just please say something...anything he begs internally... He shook...

And he wasn't alone, for Luna shook as well.

The rocker was in a state of panic and massive denial and slivers of hope ﬁlling her mind as she gazed at the young man before her...it couldn't be. It was her turn in this game of looks and what she saw was someone broken and deﬁled. Every little mark on his face, diagonal, slanted, vertical,

horizontal, right and leG even curved...all those slash marks...those scars on his face...his face...Linc—No...no...bro?...

Losing herself to the emotions, Luna gaped at the teen who'd stared back at her. Eyes no longer ﬁlled with the light of the baby she remembered all those years ago...the baby she held and sang to...the baby—teen in front of her...

His hair, though faded, his buck teeth, that smile, freckles...

"Lin..." the words died in her throat when she took the ﬁrst step, a gasp escaped her lips when she heard a rustle and an adorable yawn emanate from his chest, a tiny hand and more gibberish escaped the blue blanket tied around his upper chest...the hand of a baby...and she got her answer when Lincoln saw her shock and eyes as wide like plates, he gently parted the fabric, showing her the baby hidden away...

My god...she was adorable...she was...

'His...oh my god...' Luna had no idea on how to react then to let out an uncharacteristic squeak when Lyla gazed at her, green eyes matching hers, the child winning this unoﬃcial staring contest as Luna had to blink when tears began to ﬁll her vision and fall in a steady pace from her eyes, down her cheeks, and meeting the ground.

Lincoln smiled once more, though still small, like so many others before, he motioned Lyla towards Luna, the next words he uttered brought Luna over the edge. "Meet your aunt, Lyla..."

Clutching her rapid beating heart, strangled noises escaping her throat as she was conﬁrmed on who these two are, but still feeling like this is no more than a dream.

Lincoln continued to stare her down, his lips parting as he uttered the ﬁnal nail in the coﬃn. "I missed you, Lulu...it's me..."

Lulu. A name she has not heard for so long. A name only he would utter to her, one ﬁlled with love that only a little brother would hold towards his big sister...one word that made her break.

A shriek. A loud one at that, loud enough that the entire neighborhood most likely felt the vibration of it. It startled Lyla, but her father didn't deter, to him it was melodious as it came from her.

The emotional ridden rocker soon felt a hand, rough, strong, and full of calluses on her dainty one as his covered hers with ease. She felt him and he felt her aGer so long. Looking up once more, his smile looked like it wanted to break, a multitude of feet coming from behind as the others no doubt heard her cry. Luna brought her loose hand onto his right cheek, slowly caressing his skin, down to his chin...it was him...

"I missed you," he said. "I love you..."

The damn broke and she fell into a ﬁt of sobs.

"Linc..." She sobbed, her eyes catching his worn down looks.

"Luna!" Luan yelled as she was the ﬁrst one that made it outside, the others soon followed, confused and concerned, soon catching the sight of Lincoln, some froze as well, others were taken back from the scar ridden stranger, all unaware of the baby in his arms.

Luan, solely focused on her roommate, bent over to bring her comfort, but a quick reaction of Luna made her jump back in suprise as she extended her arm, ﬁnger pointed, still sobbing like the little girl she was so many years ago before rock n' roll.

"Loo-look at him!" She screamed. "It's him!" She wailed harder. "It's Lincoln...it's hi-him..." placing both hands on her face, snot and tears mixing as it fell on her purple top.

Those who didn't freeze, did. Those already frozen examined the teen harder than before and what each saw brought nothing but tears as they pieced the broken puzzle together...all except Lily, poor child was confused as she drew blanks from looking at Lincoln. But deep down, some part of her was telling her he was someone she knew...a long time ago...

Lincoln? She mouthed. The seven year old knew the name of her brother, but couldn't believe at what she was seeing or hearing. It was clear from the way her family were losing control and falling into a similar spell of a heart wrenching reunion.

Then their eyes met...

Lily stiﬀened as she saw the way he was looking at her, like he was staring right through her, gazing at her soul as he saw every deed she committed in her few years of life, but then she saw...heartache? Confusion once more swept her. His eyes displayed a pain she is sure she has never—nor ever wants—to experience...those eyes...so familiar... A pain only a brother would know...

One by one each Loud sister and parent took him in, each one falling into a rut like Luna, choked gasps, mouths covered by hands, Lynn showing her "weak side". The athlete losing it all, no more tough girl, she let the forlorn sister in her take over.

Mascara ruined...

From Rita's and Lori's light blue, Luna's purple, and Lola's pink...it all fell from eyes as the colors mixed with their tears...

Yet no one, sans Luna, saw Lyla. The baby stayed silent. Until...

Rita broke rank, one slow step was all it took when she met the distance towards her boy...her baby boy. So tall, handsome, the scars broke her heart, all of this broke her heart, and she can see him pain, his broken soul, the water in his eyes wanting to spill, the way his lip quivered. Mother and son.

"Mama..." He croaked. She gasped, neck craned up to meet his orbs. "Mama...I'm sorry." Dammit why?! After all this time?! "I'm sor-" Rita wrapped her arms around her baby. The mother placing her face on his shoulder as her cries soaked the fabric.

For all the inhumane pain he felt, all the lives he took, and all the people he hurt...all he wanted was this...he wanted her...mama...he wanted his mama.

Bringing her head up, lips near his ear, she whispered, "Mommies here...I'm here..." he broke, it was his turn to hide his sorrow onto her shoulder. His body racked and convulsed, teeth gritting out strangled cries as the others could only watch in happiness mixed jealously as they too wished to hug him.

Lynn Sr. wiped away his tears, a fatherly smile on his face as the day he hoped, prayed, and begged has ﬁnally came true. His boy was back from wherever. The father loved his children equally, just losing one, his only son, broke him...now that piece can ﬁnally repair itself.

Lisa had...an expression. All she wanted to do was run up and scream her apologies, beg him for forgiveness, all she wanted was to hug him and not let go. Einstein couldn't believe it..he's back...how? Ah fuck it! He's here and that's all that matters.

In the middle of their hug, Rita felt a tug on her shirt, the mother of eleven looked down on what was doing the tugging and the sight of Lyla made her gasp and jump back in shock, the others taken back from her fear as they grew concerned, Lincoln just chuckled.

Rita wasn't a genius like her daughter, but she knew who that child belongs to from just one good look. Eyes ﬂickering back and forth at Lincoln and Lyla, he nodded slowly...she lost it as well. Alongside Luna she nearly fell on her ass when she took steps back, her husband catching her as he was beyond worried.

But jr. saw what made their mother and sister fall into that reaction, and she didn't know what to do sides point at the bundle made noticeable when Lincoln gently pulled Lyla out, a happy expression of innocence on the baby's face.

Each sister agape, Lily still so confused, and the Loud patriarch shaking.

Linc broke the silence. "Lyla...meet your aunts..." a tear rolled down his face. "And grandparents..."

Instead, Lyla's attention was somewhere else, a mockingbird ﬂew above their heads, with little arms extended, a giant smile of awe on her face, the others stayed frozen.

"Dada, Buh!" She cries with a giggle in the end. "Buh!"

Lincoln looked up and saw the tiny avian. "Heh...yeah, baby girl...Buh..."

All the while, his family looked at her in shock.

They had more questions than answers.

Halfway there!