Gun For Hire - Reloaded

by Fiction Realm

Lincoln's disappearance was just the first. The Black-Pox pandemic is over. Lost Cause has given a new meaning of terror. Nations and their cities are relentlessly attacked. Hundreds killed in any given time. Melody is here to help. They strike, destroy, and instill fear on all. Without getting paid of course. Five years later, Lincoln's back with a family of his own. (Re-publish)

3. Chapter 3 - Reunions

~oOo~

Back to the learning...

Unknown Melody Facilty...

2027...

A familiar screen laid still, mounted onto the wall of the dark room, only illuminated by the light projected from said screen as a lovely hum of a female resonated from it, filling the room in the lovely sound of her synthetic voice.

The familiar form of the A.I. Anya gently moved her feet to the rhythm as the speakers projected her noise for her to enjoy. A soft fill of pianos and violins with a hint of cellos in the mix. The advanced artificial intelligence was surrounded in a mess of files, live feeds of surveillance images, video and audio files. In the background was a digital hilltop that blowed artificial winds, causing her dress to slightly ripple and flow from the 'breeze', alongside her brown locks.

She stopped suddenly; all life ceased as her motion sensors caught the presence of a familiar other. Sighing in relief when it wasn't an intruder as she didn't want to the go through the whole ordeal of a fight that would lead to kicking, screaming, her watching as guards do their thing, and ending in a literal 'BANG' to the forehead. No, instead she grew her trademark, sunny smile as she quickly turned to face you, the very reader.

With an excited wave. "Hey! Your back! You have no idea how happy I am. I mean- I mean," stumbling with her words with a slight stutter, "I was afraid you decided to leave and say goodbye to this crappy story." Mentioned she can fourth wall...right? "But nope! You didn't and your back!" Her eyes grew in size alongside her happiness as her coded green irises glew brightly, a small flow of code filled her pupils. "Now I'm sure your here to continue on with our lesson rig—Oh..." Stopping herself as she saw the mess covering her screen.

Anya rubbed the back of her head with an embarrassed smile gracing her soft features. "Heh' my bad there." With a quick snap of her left fingers all the files, feed, and information rearranged themselves quickly, efficiently, and smoothly without a hitch to her work.

"Alright." With another snap of her fingers a file materialized in her hands, quickly opening it up and flipping through it in speeds far faster than that the naked human eye can catch, unless augmented with artificial implants. Her eyes skimming along in an insane pace of her information flipping, hands a blur as well.

"Ah! Here." But before she was to display her find, the A.I fizzed, a high-pitched squeak and shuddering gasp escaped her lips as her form's outline spasmed for a good second. Stopping herself before she could lose her footing, Anya regained her balance, the artificial breeze lost its power as her dress and hair stopped flowing. Instead, her locks were frizzed and frilled in loose strands.

"Dang it!" Once again: glitches. A bane of her short existence. She doesn't even know where that one came from. Comes and goes for the past two months now, annoying beyond belief. She knows for sure nothing is entirely wrong with her...she hopes. One thing is sure: she's glad she hasn't spazzed while on a mission, wouldn't want to accidently have a highly explosive, nearly two hundred grand, missile landing on their guys.

Straightening out her hair as she smooths out her dress, closing her eyes with a tap of her foot the winds return. Finding her centre of peace, her same old smile came back, though a little sheepish now.

"S-sorry about that." Casting an embarrassed gaze down, a pink glow taking over her body's outline. "Glitches and all...that..."

...poor girl...

But she always looks towards the positive...

"But that won't stop me." Stars in her eyes—literally—as she held coded determination within her.

So, there's that...

Clapping her hands together, "Alright, back to our lesson." Tossing the file up above her head, it dissolved into nothingness as her body faded away with her waving with a wink of her right eye. A 2D image of the Earth took over the entire screen. All the continents were color coded with their respective colors, POPULATION bolded and shown, and an assortment of equally familiar black and orangey blobs and specks peppered the map as small regions highlighted and outlined in red with the words LOST and REFUGEE bolded as well.

A snap echoed through the room as the map shifted and spun and rolled against itself, forming into a 3D, real time, revolving image of the planet, tilted slightly on its axis as a mini moon was also constructed.

She's the type of girl who likes to add a bit of style in her presentations.

"That's better." With a deep breath and a whisper of, "Come on girl, you can do this...you got this, you got this. Don't screw up. If you screw up your screwed and if your screwed then this story is screwed and if that's screwed then you're a failure of an A.I and a failure of a daughter!"

Jesus...

She's not much of a teacher.

What sounded like a literal slap to the face by oneself resonated as she gulped for 'air'.

"Ok. You must be wondering what we are going to review as of right now." The words LOST and REFUGEE were underlined and bolded into yellow and blue respectively. "That'll be the LCZ and RZ. Or, in other words, the Lost Cause and Refugee Zones. Simply just Zones since it's all the same to the world now. Though it does get a bit...umm...' trying to find the right word. 'Complicated...yeah..."

Red lines sprouted from the revolving Earth as boxed images appeared with them. Each held the same resemblance of a mess: broken and trashed buildings, ghettos filled to the brim with people—many with automatic weapons standing by or roaming the streets. Said people looking worse for wear. Other pictures showed utter, complete slums. Some were like a wet dream for any post apocalyptic enthusiast as the dreariness and lack of any life at all instead from the tangled messes of run down concrete jungles; visual frames zooming in and out, nature taking control of what she thinks is hers.

Fucked. The best word to describe the scenes.

What has happened to the world?

Simple...she was fucked, but not consensual mind you.

Anya's voice rang out. "I believe you have an idea but let me add some clarity."

Being who she is, Anya has great clarity and a myriad of emotions. It is scarily close to that as any other human. Alongside other aspects of our species. One of which is stress. If she was an actual person—flesh and blood—then one would've caught the sight of dark bags under her eyes from the increasing amount of work piled on her with the growing number of contracts, missions, and monitoring of Melody's assets and equally sizing demand from those willing to pay. Inside the inner workings of her complex mind, she had spilt apart herself into eight fragments; each simultaneously performing a specific task just so she can play teacher today.

It's taxing.

Thus, the price of being the heart and soul of Melody.

The images were pulled apart as she hummed lightly her little tune as they were minimized for another folder of pictures, each were from her last 'lesson' of the Black-Pox pandemic. Showcasing the masses of people fleeing, pushed back by soldiers garbed in full MOPP gear and the likes, all in gas masks as they aim their weapons on increasing crowds, a five second video on repeat of two men tossing bodies in a ditch, alongside medical records and regions highlighted on the globe.

"If you can recall, twenty-six-years-ago the Black-Pox pandemic had begun, only to stop four years later after initial outbreak. From the years 2001 to 05."

The images faded, the Earth quickly swivelled to showcase the Eastern side. Afghanistan and Russia were highlighted as a mini sickle and star along with black and white images originating from the Cold War shone.

She sighed. "Having its roots going as far back to the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan." A picture of a buried facility under the sand and surrounded by other natural formations popped up. "With their war lost, the damaged done and their bioweapon experiments forced to be put down during their pull out of the region, the dirty little secrets would be later unearthed."

The year: 2001 formed at the bottom of the screen as the Earth shifted into its pre pandemic days. Borders changed, no blobs or specks.

Anya sighed again as she didn't want to recount the details of this horrible time, but as the 'teacher' and her must in following her orders given to her by her superiors, she sucked it up. She knows very well that sugar coating just makes it worse and a hell of a lot more wasteful since it's easier to tell it as it is. So she prepared to give the rundown.

"And as you also recall, with the growing distrust and hatred towards the west, and its influences and involvement in conflicts many voiced they had no right to intervene solely for their interests, has resulted in the rise of groups wanting to take the fight to them the only way they know how." Her tone shifted into an unimpressed drawl. "But you also remember how that BLEW up in their faces." Signifying with the spread of red lines from a highlighted Middle East towards the rest of the world with the word: SPREAD highlighted. 2001 shifting through the four years 'till ending at 05 and a new Earth.

A rectangular image took over the right portion of the screen as biological symbols shown themselves with complicated equations and photos of people infected with the darkly coloured, protruding spots, leaking in a viscous combination of blood and dark fluid.

She continued. "The idiots believed what they found were chemical weapons as most of the data in the labs were gone and shredded. We all know it wasn't as its obvious to tell the difference...but what's done is done. The Earth, she keeps spinning, and man keeps living."

With a relived sigh, she can finally start on the actual lesson as the recap has gone far longer than it should. With a slight hum the Earth reverted to the modern time with 2027 on the bottom right corner.

"Now the Zones." She stated as she had the Earth revert to its 2D map form, the fabricated, digital moon fading away into nothingness. She had specific areas of the map outline in a yellow highlight. "Let's cover the Refugee Zones first, shall we?" Though it wasn't much of a question she just wanted to make it seem like you the reader had some say.

Regions throughout Asia, Eastern Europe, Africa, South and Central America were highlighted in the yellow as images stemmed and flowed depicting violence and mass civil unrest as they shifted and changed in size and shape with numbers coming and going as Anya tried to find her words.

"Though the virus wasn't extinction level—thank god. It was enough to hit man hard. How hard? Well...hard enough to cause an influx of regional wars, economic crashes, alongside with a multitude of other political and social issues...and a whole lot of 'I blame you!' Types of deals going on."

Out of nowhere a graph filled the screen with the words: Melody Profits on the top. Blue lines shooting up as time goes by.

"Can't deny and say it wasn't good for business and our later growth and influence on later affairs."

War is business after all...

Videos of mass groups of people fleeing their homes became the center of attention, others were caught up in the fighting.

"From these quickly spreading brush fire and civil wars, along with the virus still around, had led to a mass increase of refugees looking elsewhere as home was deep hell." Death filled the screen as bodies in the same shade of spilt red popped up and went about, each one showing a similar or different death, some even gorier than the other.

"To accommodate these people, portions of land, varying in size, were set aside into semi-autonomous like Zones. Though this did not stop the frequent clashes amongst the other from differences in tongue, beliefs, colour and nationality was still an ever-prevalent issue...sadly. I'll never understand why."

All the pictures faded away as she replaced them with the ones from earlier.

"Forming into mass slum areas and later used as cheap labor from the nations that held them on a tight leash. It wasn't long until they directed their anger towards their oppressors." Violent videos of civil unrest played as a Zone in East Europe was set aflame by the refugees who found their hands on weapons: stolen or makeshift. "And later their hate on the rest of the...world..."

Though there are more reasons for these hostile tensions as the virus had, in a way, acted as the catapult for the disturbed world and its citizens...

More and more of these Zones fought back as rallies were held, weapons aimed high, bodies kissing the ground as they made a puddle of red, people fighting and tearing the other apart, firebombs dropped on unsuspected soldiers set ablaze in mass of hellish flames as they're shot to death by their own out of mercy, bodies were hung and paraded through the broken streets. Voices echoed from the screens; insurgency sparked—"I think that's enough for now..."

One doesn't need to be a genius...

"But, adding to that. In reality it's inappropriate in a way to dub them as refugees in this current day and age seeing how these Zones have gone on their own path. Through the fighting gave rise to what's now called Insurgent States, but the term Zone is universal and common." She gave a non-existent shrug. "It's only called refugee just to differentiate the two. Though the term Insurgent Zones have popped up and taken hold in recent years, not very long ago in fact. Hence with the growing troubles that now evolved into this current war on terror."

Her voice echoed as she had the screen cleared. "Now, the Lost Cause Zones."

To put two and two together...

As the highlighted regions that made up the Refugee Zones faded off into darkness the specks and blobs across the map glowed a bright orange as images took over and overlapped the other, showcasing the same images like before of areas lost in time, taken over by nature, and walled off from the rest of society. Soldiers in gas masks pushing back crowds of people trying to find a way out of hell but were instead shot or beaten back.

"It isn't hard to really explain what a LCZ is. It's in the name. Just that...a Lost Cause. Areas deemed too dangerous to take back that it was best to just pen the people there and see what happens...that was the plan," her voice was distant. "See if the virus would wipe them out."

An explosion rocked the room as the screen was engulfed into a recorded video from first and third perspective as the former came from the body cams of troops and the latter from other recording devices. Bullets flew from rifles as all sides were thrown into a mess of attrition. The Uniforms caught off guard from the sudden ambush of men and women garbed in ruined clothing, and handling an assortment of weapons, raise hell on all sides.

"Things went...a different path..."

Drone footage showed the burnings of flags from various nations, hands clenched in fists punching the air as men lend their voices and speak towards the masses. More and more of these mass demonstrations took hold...and not just in the Zones.

Alongside were more images, but it was of Melody as it showed the similar graphs and rise in charts from profits; men and women in suits shaking hands as deals were made, and the iconic PMC sending their own to fight off the rapidly growing insurgency along with providing aid wherever and whenever they can.

Melody's symbol took over the screen as Anya manifested herself fully. Blinking her eyes as she stayed frozen for a good second before a map of Russia overlapped the symbol.

Shaking her head, she gave an apologetic stare while casting her eyes towards the map. "Looks like we have to cut off here, sorry about that but I need to take care of this." With a smile and a wave, "Till next time, Anya out..."

---

~oOo~

Heh' tiny Linky...

Royal Woods, Michigan...

1217 Franklin Avenue...

New Loud Residence...

2027...

There are times when Lincoln would greatly enjoy a nice swig of burning liquid fire going down his throat as it envelops his gut and chest in a nice, snug warmth as he fucks up his liver a bit more...

These are one of those times...

He expected a lot from all of this. Hell, he knew sooner or later he will have to confront those he left behind in what's called a past. Family, those he once called friends—everything. His wife included as she has hers and he him.

That doesn't mean he was prepared. He learned through the hard way that constantly planning the expected would end in a fire of a whole other direction instead of the intended path he mapped in his head. Like driving: road blocks, potholes, a dumbass running through the road of all things while the light is green (he has thought on what if he didn't stop...), and a whole lot of other derailments.

A chill wind blew against them. His face pelted slightly as his hair parted and danced with it, Logan was still holding onto his pant leg, the young father placed a hand on top of his boy's grey locks. The child gazing back up at his father with those big ol' eyes of his before looking back at what he dubbed the 'pretty blonde ladies.' Logan was never one for new people so this was expected from his father.

So here they stood. Silence reigned supreme; ironic from the four named Loud...well, Santiago now in Lori's case...actually, yeah, four. Heh' dumbass forgot about the love of his life sitting idly back in his Mustang, no doubt she took the time to study this soon to be storm of a silent play. Might prove useful material for her book. Though she knew silence better than him, he merely had to adjust to it whenever given it.

...oh...yeah...back to the subject...

'Lori...Leni...'

In the time they all stood, he took in their appearances and saw the same, yet different, women who stood by him for a good portion of his life. Though he never had the greatest relationship with Lori, he still, and always, will love her. It's just...it's a lot to take in. Five years is a hell of a long time. Truth be told he never imagined Lori of all people into real estate, his mind usually wandered towards a respected, but no doubt feared, manager at some big company or something along those lines. But hey, that's life...you never know...

He never kept tabs...

But Leni? Hell everyone that loves fashion or has a teenaged shopping obsessed daughter knows her and her creations. He knew she would make it big, her dreams a reality. He hoped for the best for all of them as they had their paths laid out for them way before his...who's he kidding, never had one to begin with.

He doesn't mind though.

They were beautiful, they always were. The eldest blondes of the Loud siblings. They each, all ten, held their own beauty and styles solely unique to them and them only, but these two...he remembers clearly all the boys back in day lining up just to get close to Leni if not her number, Lori too. Well, before Boo Boo Bear came into the picture. Leni in a pair of designer clothing no doubt made by her hands, clinging to her lovely figure nicely as Lori wore a combination of light and dark blue business attire specially made and should be worn in a situation as this.

But he had other things on his mind than just them.

His old home...

His eyes left theirs, yet they weren't really even looking at him anymore, the two older females were only focused on Logan. Tears parted from Leni's eyes as they threatened to spill and pave a trail on her cheeks, a hand on her mouth after her screech that echoed through the neighborhood. How their mother didn't hear...ehhh' old age if one has to guess. Though she isn't that old...

Unlike her wobbly legged, dunce of a little sister, Lori was in a different, yet somewhat similar, state of her own. The dictator of a phone-a-holic held an...expression...she was everywhere if that makes sense. Unable to stand in one place, instead the blonde woman paced herself in a continuing path of back and forth and forth and back, left and right. Her heels clicking and clacking against the pavement with her right hand running through her yellow locks as her left shook with her phone she held as a lifeline...so nothing really new on the latter.

In a hoarse whisper, "Oh my god..." Almost completely inaudible to all. Her eyes never left Logan's. Her blue met his brown, a shiver went through her spine, if not her entire being. Not from just the mere sight of him but from how he stared back.

Those eyes were a shade of brown so dark it's best to almost call them black. A lack of any color that she barely even saw his pupils at all if the sun wasn't there to shine. They held a pitch darknesses that brought her unease from how he...he studied her? No...from how he examined her soul. That's how it feels. Like if he saw every misdeed of her past, her faults and cracks...

She didn't like it...but he...he...he's just HE!

'GAAAAGHHHHH!' She felt the inner need to scream and roar. She felt...she didn't even know where to start. That child! That fucking boy!

That's...her nephew...

God...

He was the result...the aftermath from that time...the pregnancy stick on the table from the shaky hands of a sixteen-year-old boy unable to look them in the eyes as he uttered with whatever bravery he had in him—"It's mine" those five years ago.

A boy...not a girl...

Her eyes, after all this time, left her nephews. Forgetting the moments that lead to this. Forgetting the frustration of having to listen to her sisters nonense of babble. Forgetting the impatience of having to wait for her buyer...her brother. The insane laughter and the honking and—ALL OF IT.

Her brother...he wasn't the same boy she knew from before. No. Not even close.

The way he stood, how his eyes flickering between the streets, trees, flower beds, the old grouches house (may he Rest In Peace), their childhood home. His eyes told a story she wasn't sure she even wanted to know. She saw enough from those blue orbs. Compared to hers his was far more worn, tired, sunken, a lack of any light and old joys.

But the boy? Remembering Logan's. His, even though she felt chilled, his eyes told innocence like any other child, confusion and curiosity that mimics a young puppy.

His child...

Her shaky hands fell to her sides, clenching into fists. Her phone's screen cracking.

There it is...

After all this time, after all the turmoil and running emotions of a scar that may have already healed enough for their lives to go on, he's back. He's FUCKING back.

There's the Lori we all know...

'Hey big sister.' The only thing he could say, even if it wasn't directed to her. Even then, alongside Leni, she felt a vice like imaginary rope grip her heart, her breath taken away, all her functioning stopping for a good minute when she heard it...his voice...

He left...

'No! Stop it.' Firmly taking back control of herself; her mind and emotions. By god she wanted to do something. She wanted to hit him...she wanted to hug him...she wanted...what did she want? What?

He left like a coward...

He did. Damn right he did. A fact she and many others had and will hold against him for some time. Something he knows fully as he must live with that.

She closed her eyes as hot breaths left her nostrils. She fought back her emotions as she realized, right then and there, he was her client...he was her paycheck right now. She opened her eyes and didn't see her brother. No. She saw her salary. Biting back her creeping anger, Mrs. Santiago carefully found her footing and walked over to her client. Leni raising a hand as she tried to stop Lori, but the cinnamon bun was nowhere near able to produce words sans choked whimpers.

Lincoln took a breath of his own, finding his balls he was about to move too. He was going to confront what he left behind. He had to. Can't just let it slide like this and expect everything to be ok and dandy. That's not how it works. Everyone, and he means everyone, will have something to say.

But a voice ceased that.

"Dad...do you know these ladies?" Logan, bless his little soul, mustered up his courage and stepped up. Asking what was on his mind. Though he has a pretty good idea on who these two were to his father and him. He just needed...something. Words! He needed words! Logan is all for silence, when the situation was right, but not one like this.

Leni finally made a sound, though it was a high pitched whimper that she once more covered her mouth with her hand as she shook and nearly fell onto her behind. Eyes shut, a few tears made their choice and broke rank, streaming down her cheeks as she gasped for a bit of air. Unable to even look at the child anymore when their eyes met. He looked too much like him...it was too much for her right now.

A hint of sorrow and regret clouded a bit of Linc's eyes when he saw the heart wrenching sight of his second oldest sister struggle with her emotions that he felt like a complete bastard for all that happened. Can this be fixed?

Maybe...maybe not...who knows...

What's done is done, simple as that.

The Contractor shook his head as he regained his sense of clarity. He knew this isn't the time.

All the while, Lori ceased her movements all together, her mouth opening and closing as she tried to find the words. Ending the same way this whole ordeal went through, not a damn word was said. The only thought in her head from Logan's little question with a lot of meaning behind it: Did he even tell him?

"Lo—" Unable to even say his sons name when the sound of the passenger side door of his car clicked opened.

'Lo...' Lori blinked when she just figured she didn't even know his name. She can make a guess. Right now though, her eyes, along with her little sister's was on the pair of ghostly pale legs flawlessly manoeuvring from the Mustang.

What she saw made her jaw drop once more, something that has been going on damn too many times already. Leni's emerald orbs, though blurry from her tears, were able to make out the woman who came into view. She may be...slow (nicest way to describe her) but even she of all people had an idea on who it was that slowly walked up towards her long lost baby brother...and her nephew...

"No way..." Mrs. Toots-a-lot mouthed. It may have been awhile, but being the dutiful, 'responsible', older sister she was, she was familiar with those her sisters and brother hung out with and brought back home, with the whole 'friend over equals benefits' that resulted in a huge brawl about ten-years-ago.

That's a story for another time...heh'...

Her brain was forced to work harder than it ever had before, finally she put two and two together...

Her?

Hair, black as midnight let to hang loose and freely, blowing slightly from the wind. Flawless skin that held a ghostly colour like her goth of a baby sister, a combination of purples and black making up her clothing colour scheme. Her purple coloured and black lined dress flowing like her hair, hugging her hourglass figure nicely. She held a combo of both mysterious and motherly in her aura for someone as young like her.

That eye. Just one as the other was shrouded by her black locks.

Now Lori saw where the child got it from. The skin and the eyes...like mother like...son...

But unlike the boy's, his mother's was another story. Her orb, though same in colour and shade as her child, was far more darker in Lori's view. The chill she felt before intensified. And, like her brother, hers told a story similar to his: worn. They both held eyes that seemed far too old for someone as young as them.

Or that is how it was going on until Logan spoke up as his mother got close enough where he let go of his fathers pant leg and moved towards her with eyes full of curiosity and burning questions. Haiku bent over and took hold of her little bat and hoisted him up, cradling the boy in her left arm as he cuddled up closer to her.

"Mama," the boy started. Both Linc and Haiku saw how the sisters reacted, almost like they were punched by reality itself. Lori more so as she nearly choked on her spit. Even though she knew from just looking and comparing it...Jesus it was...it was...something.

Leni, her poor heart, her poor mind, her poor fragile self was overloaded from all of this. The pieces finally shown in front of her that even though she wished for this day—prayed for this day, she didn't know where to start. She needed confirmation, quickly the fashion designer forced herself to lock eyes with her brother. All of this emotion spilling out from barely, if any, words exchanged at all. It was just her nephew that said anything after her justifiable freak out. And Lincoln knew what she wanted. It hurt, it hurt like hell to not be able to run up and hug him like she wanted; to glomp him and hold him tight when they were younger, for her to just feel him was part of her prayers. For her to be the auntie she always wanted to be.

He nodded.

With that, Leni had one thought in her small mind when she took another glance at the woman holding her nephew.

'She's beautiful...'

Logan struggled a bit with his words. The five-year-old not enjoying the stares from the two pretty ladies. Tightening his hold against his mother. "What's happening?"

What is happening indeed?

Haiku took a quick moment to gather her thoughts before she took a breath and simply said, "A long awaited reunion." Her voice still devoid of any emotion. Taking another quick look between the blondes, she shrugged. "Long." She emphasized. Running her fingers through her child's grey strands as he tilted his head like a puppy.

...till it hit him. The boys eyes widened. "Oh" He silently whispered. He didn't know if he should be excited or scared. Really it was odd in situations like these as Lo had a hard time when it came to situations like these. Any situations to be honest.

Lincoln nodded as he scratched the back of his head before sighing. "Oh ya..."

Scratch the burning desire for a drink he rather be sent to a Lost Zone of all places right now.

Fuck it. He was done. He wanted to get this done. Now and then. He made the plan, he acted on said plan, so has his love. He can't let this shit storm stall any longer, the day isn't forever and whatever must be done hasn't.

Closing his eyes as he took a deep breath through his nose, he took a step forward, all eyes on him. Not like anything new to be totally honest.

What can he say? Is there even a word that can make amends of all that transpired? A simple sorry isn't gonna cut it, nor any other word or full sentence that involves said word. There's no other way to put it that there is no excuse, like he could find one in general. Only cowards place the blame on others for the actions that are theirs and theirs alone; he wasn't gonna fall under that category.

He fucked up he knew that.

His wife followed after him as she wrapped a free hand around his, giving him a quick reassuring squeeze which he returned gratefully. Never leaving the eyes of his sisters as Lori had to hold a flinch from his stare. Leni was lost in trying to find her baby brother within each one.

"H...I..." He bit the inside of his cheek to the point he tasted the familiar, but welcomed, iron his blood. It brought him a sense of morbid comfort. Grinding his teeth in frustration.

'Fuck it.' He shook his head, shrugged his shoulders. Say what he has to say. He doesn't care anymore.

"Where do I even...there's nothing I can say." All ears and eyes were opened and on him, taking his words like a sponge in water. Lifting his free hand as he let it smacked against his leg. "We all know how this will go. And I'm not even sure if I'm ready for it, pfft...who the fuck is?" Whispering the last part for obvious reasons. "I don't even know where to start."

For all his life Logan has always seen his father as the man with the plan, his hero, his idol, heh' super dad even. But for the first time in his young life this young Loud never thought he would see this side of his old man. All the boy can do is watch and listen.

Running his fingers through his hair. "I don't even if I can say sorry. Not like it'll mean anything."

It's not like he's following a script. He's just a man.

It took Leni all her power, right then and there, not to bolt towards her brother. The ditz couldn't take it as she quickly took steps towards her brother, his masked pain easy to detect and decipher as she took part in watching and helping him grow when he was not even close to her shoulders years before.

She barley even made it at all when Lori caught her in a vice grip, the blonde fashion designer wincing with a high pitch yelped as she felt the dagger like nails of her sister dig into her skin through her long sleeved, white, turquoise lined shirt.

Unconsciously, without any notice, even from himself, Linc's free hand clenched into a quick fist from the sight of his sisters discomfort. Some instincts just don't die.

Leni writhed and tried to, but no avail, to escape the agents grasp. "Lori, stop! It hurts, let—" She squealed once more when Lori placed more strength in her claws, silencing the blonde dolt.

Deep down, she felt disgusted for having to do this to her baby sister. But she had to make it clear that there's a line and it wasn't meant to be crossed. Sadly, even after all these years, she still believes her words and actions are law. No wonder this lead to an increasing number of fights after his absence. Hell' more so than before.

But what really stopped Leni completely in her tracks was that...smile. A simple smile that grew on her big sisters lips as she gave a simple stare towards the family of three, visibly unsettling Logan as the boy saw something within those green eyes. As fake as the ideas of peace on their world. In Leni's view it was digusting, it was wrong, it was...painful to stare for long—let alone a minute!

To Lincoln it was nothing unusual. A gesture seen time and time again in his line of work. Didn't mean he took kindly to it. He knew Lori and he knew her well. Haiku simply brushed it away without a single care given, or, that's what she would usually do, if she didn't catch the line her...sister in law kept her stare leveled on. Linc saw it too.

Logan. Her sights were on Logan.

Judgement? Or was it disgust? No...she can't quite place it but it was something. It looked like...blame.

For what then? For what crime is he guilty of then? His birth? Or was it his conception? Something he had no say in any. For what is it then?

Haiku wasn't one for violence...scratch that. COMMITTING violence is better said. Writing drawing or envisioning it? Heh' that's fair game for her. But the more her dear "sister" in law stared at her baby boy in such a manor the more the mother wanted to sock her one. But a quick squeeze from her love stopped that...for now.

Leaving Logan, the dictator held a out towards her brother, taking him back before he could even register she swiftly dropped it without a single care given or even a change in her expression.

That smile...

Finally she opened her mouth, what came out was equally as sickening. "Well sir," he flinched slightly from that, "it seems you finally arrived and with your...family no doubt." It was all so fake, so spiteful but well hidden. Unnoticed, her teeth grounded together as she continued, her "smile" twitching downwards. "I say we should take our ordeal inside and wrap up with the signature and see if everything is in place." Without another word said as she didn't give them a chance, Lori spun on her foot and walked towards the house, sparring a quick glance at the young Loud family. "Oh, and I hope you don't mind MY SISTER accompanying us." She placed GREAT emphasis on Leni. "She couldn't wait to see who bought this old house."

Lincoln could only stare longingly at her retreating form. "Lori..." he whispered. Biting his lip with another long sigh leaving him.

The Contractor was brought back when he felt the familiar soft pair of lips upon his cheek along with a smooth, delicate hand trace his jaw. Sparring his love a quick glance she gave him one of her rare smiles. It was enough to fill him with warmth and resolve. He smiled back. Looking over to his boy, he gave his son a pat on his head, his smile never wavering from his sons attempt to stop him.

"Dad!" The kid whined, pouting from his fathers chuckles, though the boy hid his own smile.

'We're in this together...'

---

~oOo~

School Sucks...

Royal Woods Elementary...

Time ticked by slowly as usual in the prison known as the public education system, or, simply, school. But for eleven-year-old Lily Loud, she didn't mind. Heck she enjoyed this day. Why? Well it's simple, her teacher wasn't really into it today, so he gave them a free day of all things.

Humming lightly to herself as her ears were filled with her favorite sound from her special selection of different bands, the youngest of the Louds kicked her feet back and forth as she skimmed through article after article of news that was posted this morning or the last hour.

News articles? Really Lilster? Hey don't be one to judge, everyone has their likes and interests and this is one of hers. Her whole life she was filled with boundless curiosity with it her surroundings and now the world as a whole. She knows enough to understand it's not a happy place—far from it. Some may even say it's not even grey any more, it's black. Pitch black. Makes sense she supposes...seeing how the last 26 years was a page of horror and chaos that slowly came and went as time passed.

But unlike most, she tries to see the positive.

But it was hard. God was it hard. Her eyes were focused on a picture from CNN of a band of people garbed in hoods and metallic coated masks etched and molded into a chilling desgin of emotionless faces exchange fire between Riot Units.

Clashes Continue!

Said the title as a mob of fire swirled around the streets of Atlanta as the suns early rays are clouded from smoke and debris.

'Marking the 12th riot turned deadly in the past month alone, Atlanta was struck by the increasing numbers of Anarchists early this morning leading to a demonstration of automatic gunfire and blood instead of signs and chants.'

Her fingers glided through her phone as she swiped between pictures. Stopping at the stilled image of paramedics and armed police work their way through covered bodies and the wounded. She frowned as her heart swelled with sorrow.

'An estimated 25 civilians killed. With at least 8 officers and 11 of the Anarchists.'

'So much pain...' Her heart clenched. Thus the cruel reality of her world. Poor girl doesn't even know the half of it, let alone a start.

'Last week alone SWAT units in Boston raided a suspected underground ralley finding with them an assortment of weapons and members of Lost Cause within their ranks as well. Each of the 8 suspected members were linked to originate from Berol, an Insurgent Zone in Germany.'

Another photo showed the hooded and masked men and women bounded, on their bellies, muzzles against their heads from powerful rifles. A look of disgust clearly visible like the sky in summer from the balaclava garbed officer's eyes. One Anarchist, unmasked, snarled, drooling, and mad like a rabid animal; eyes bloodshot, tanned skin bloody and bruised as his sniffer leaks blood from both nostrils from a broken nose.

'There have been other linkings in the past decade or so since the emergence of these radicals. Many of whom holding ties towards the powerful, worldwide, terror group. With the growing attacks comes to the increase of fear and paranoia as the question is asked: who is safe? Are we?'

Once her song ended, alongside her eyes with the final sentence of the news paragraph, Lily jumped from the sudden noise of the bell ringing above their heads. Mr. Riley groaned in annoyance as he placed a hand against his forehead.

"Can't a guy be with his hangover in peace?"

Yeah...she's not saying he isn't the best teacher—because he is. He just has one of those days.

"Whatever." He growled. The brown haired man rolled his shoulders, waving off the kids. "Art time. Now get out of here ya little monsters." Placing his own headphones on as he leaned back against his seat with shut eyes and a sigh.

So when the little fifth grade sheep left the shepard, Lily lagged back, deciding to take her time as she wasn't in any hurry what's so ever. Instead focused on her phone, maneuvering past other kids. Already knowing her locker location by heart, the light purple skirted Loud turned a hard right and was face to face with it.

Placing her phone away, she smiled when she quickly opened her locker to find her drawing pencils. A happy hum left her when she was about to depart to her favorite class of the day.

Leni had her fashion, Luna, her music, Lucy, her poetry, Lola, her graceful dancing, and now Lily, her drawings and photographs. It's like art runs in the family. Tilting her head, in a way she can even say her fathers cooking could be considered one too.

Passing through the door that lead to her domain...heh' Lily waved her hand over towards her small group of friends who returned in kind. A pep in her step from the multiple stools behind the back facing blank canvases held by their easels. With an apron in hand along with her pencils and laid out paint, Lily took a seat.

A nice looking fair skinned woman entered the class, a patchwork designed apron hugging her body and filled with stains of paint, charcoal, ink and all other sorts of art medium. Hair dyed a vibrant, bright green stopping at her shoulders. She gave her class a smile.

Clapping her hands together. "Alright guys! Today is gonna be different. How so? Well today I want you all to paint from the heart."

That's pretty cliche but ok.

"Create something that brings you happiness or makes you feel happy. It can be anything—nothing is limited. Now, you'll have the remainder of class to do so. Have fun."

Some of the class stars already dug in and began to sketch whatever came up, makes sense they were Ms. Favel's favorites. Others were at a lost, one kid shrugged with a muttered—"Screw it." And began to just throw, in the literal sense, globs of paint against his canvas. But Lily, well Lily was tapping her pencil against her chin. Humming in thought as she was at a lost as well.

'Something that makes me happy.'

That can be anything: family—a big one, they meant the world to her. Friends, chocolate, her Nintendo. No. She didn't want to make it simple. She wanted to draw what her heart wanted—what it held. The question is what.

Biting her lip, she snapped her fingers as an idea popped up. Sliding her phone out and going to pictures she was met with a show of various images she took of either reference, or just cause, or because she wanted to look back at the memory for a long while. Each photo she stopped by made her happy, each one held a close relationship with her heart but...she doesn't know.

There was one with her and Lana. Her dirt loving mechanic of an older sister holding Lily close with her arm as she raises a wrench and sticks her tongue out. The fifteen-year-old twin and eleven-year-old creating a memory. Another is with her and Lynn before her big game behind a stadium; a grin on her sporty sis's face as she had a fire in her eyes ready to kick ass.

All were the same. Each one of her and her sisters and parents. But none of them struck her...that is...before she froze mid swipe at a photo of a photo. His clear blue eyes stared right at her, a smile on his face with his white hair a bit of a mess. Her heart swelled with a quick burst of loss and pain.

'Linky..." She forgot. Genuinely she forgot she even had this saved in her phone. The first picture she took when she was given it. Instead of swiping, her finger slowly traced is features, she took him all in, in fine detail.

He was fourteen right there. First day of high school. She was four, but she remembers...she remembers a lot. How he kissed her on the forehead and she returned in kind on his cheek when they went to their respective schools.

'Be good, baby girl.' His voice echoed through her mind, shaking her soul. A slight gasp left her lips, she shook in her seat.

His kindness, his hugs, his kisses, his love and his promises for her and her alone...she remembered.

A drop of water fell onto her screen. Her eyes wet and in need. Her lip quivered.

How it all changed.

She was just six and that day was burned in her mind for years to come. All that...so much...too many things were said.

She was happy actually—excited even. She was too young to understand at the time the repercussions of his actions would've lead towards, but all she cared about was being an auntie. To have a little one to help look after and act like a big sister towards. Another Loud in their pact.

But life had other plans.

She hoped it was a boy. Deep down she wanted it to be a boy.

She prayed...

Her heart hurts...

Right there. She found it. Without a word, quickly wiping her eyes, she placed her phone on her easel for better visual. Her head filled with his voice and the time they spent before...the bad day, as she calls it, happened.

Pencil on the canvas.

She hoped...

---

~oOo~

Back with the family of three...

Lori walked them through pretty much everything they needed to know. Her expression still faux and professional; Lincoln knew for damn sure the beast within was pulling on its chains.

It was quite surreal to the two sisters to see a home as old as this renovated to the max. It was brought from 19 something to the 2020's in just a few months time. The constant hustle and bustle of carpenters, movers, electricians, plumbers, and other designers working day in and out for a paycheck, a real good one at that.

Even Lori had to ask: how in the name of god can they afford all of this? It's insane! He's a dropout—both of them are! While she busted her ass to make the earning she does now.

Lincoln rubbed a hand over the stair railing, feeling the intricate textures and flawless designs and patterns of the carved wood, nodding in approval. His wife too as she examined her specifications and saw no problem if any. Logan glanced around in the attempts to escape the Leni's gaze, but from every step he took she followed like a sniper from a bell tower.

Unease was thick in the air for the Louds sans Haiku. She knew it was there but it didn't stop her from admiring her new home.

The real question may be why this house in particular? Why to all of it. It's a pretty simple answer to be honest. Convenience and closeness...plus Linc and Harriet never liked the idea of living in a rich neighborhood. Snobs were far from any of their favorites as they wanted to raise Logan away from that mess.

Before Lincoln could even get a word in the click of a pen stopped him along with a clipboard shoved to his face. Lori tapping her foot as he saw her hand grip the poor board to the point he swore he saw tiny splinters break. Looking back and forth between her and the X he sighed and signed his name.

This has gone on enough already.

"Lori," he began. Her back facing him but he saw the stiffness of her shoulders hunch upwards. All the other occupants stopped to watch. Lincoln took a step forward, about to place a hand on her shoulder before she spun around. The two stared at the other, her eyes flickered over to the scars on his face.

Without a word she stepped aside, or that's how he saw it before she stopped suddenly. Facing him again. "Oh, and before I leave, one more thing."

He saw it coming, but he let it happen. Her hand flying towards him as it kissed his cheek, the stinging pain was quick and felt like fire. The cringe worthy sound of skin being smacked resonated through the house. He staggered from her strength, he felt it all from that one slap. Her rage and malice.

"Lori! Dad!" Leni and Logan screamed respectively. The blonde froze in place from the deep heated glare she was given, but the boy didn't as he made his way over to his father.

Pointing a warning finger to the fashionista, "Shut the fuck up!" She growled. Leni whimpered and coward away.

Haiku was never one to show emotion but this was an exception, her hands in fists as she was about to bring this bitch down a peg.

"Love, don't."

Or she was, if her dear husband didn't shake his head. Eye narrowed in growing anger, she was about to retort but he beat it to her.

"Not in front of Logan." Said boy next to his father and looking between his parents. Lincoln shaking his head. "Besides, she's already gone." Right he was when the blonde witch was nowhere to be seen but heard from the screeching of tires and a roar of an engine.

'Great start. Hey, at least she didn't knee your balls, so that's something...that's something.'

So much for a reunion. He wasn't surprised to be honest, he expected as much, though he thought more of a ball stomping or a punch than a bitch slip of all things, didn't mean if didn't hurt, can still feel the sting on his cheek. The discomfort was there. Who knows maybe Lynn would supply a good shiner to the eye, maybe a crooked nose to add to that. Heh' it's like he wants to be beaten. The hell's wrong with him?

"Dad?" Raising a brow before he saw it was Logan who called towards him. The boy visibly worried as he rubbed his arm, shifting his feet, looking back quickly at Leni in slight fear that she may do the same. "Ar...are you ok? Why did she do that? Who was that? What's happening? I don't underst—" The boy hushed from his fathers raised hand.

Kneeling down to the meet the boys height, even though still over towered him. "I'm fine. It's...best not to worry about it."

The boy shook his head, unbelieving from what he was hearing. "No it's not!" He flinched from the stern stare his father gave him. "She-she hit you. That's not right." Twiddling his thumbs, the boy refused to look at his father, finding the floor better.

Lincoln sighed. "I know. But she had a reason...a good one I suppose. People do things when they're angry, Lo...I made her angry." He bit his lip.

"H-h-how? Why?"

Why. A child's favorite word for a long while. The constant need to know even if they shouldn't. But never should anyone fault a child for it, we all were one once.

Linc tried to find the words, but his love beat him to it.

"We ran away." Simple, straight to the point.

"Mama?" His mother carefully walked over to her two boys, kneeling next to her husband. Her focused shifted to her son. She cupped his cheek and slowly caressed it with care. Leaning over for a light kiss on his forehead. Her eye met his as she placed both hands on his small shoulders.

"All will be revealed, I promise." He knew that meant later. But he wanted to know and they knew that...by god they knew that.

How does one even start a conversation like that?

The boy nodded his head. His mother once more pressed her lips on his cheek, and his father rubbing his hand on his shoulder. Though he still had one burning question.

"But who was that?"

"Hehehehe~ ohhhhhh..." Linc sighed. "That...that was Lori...my sister...your aunt, son."

"..." The boy blinked.

"..." The father's lips in a thin line, nodding to show he wasn't lying.

"..." The mother still the same as ever but she still held inner malice towards her.

"..." Leni just stood there...playing with her fingers. She didn't want to interrupt. Still she was fighting back her urge to run and glomp.

Logan shook his head. "Then that...that means," turning around to point at Leni who flinched from all the attention now on her. "That's—she's my..."

"Your aunt Leni, yes."

"Oh..." Well what else is he supposed to say? He knew there were more out there that shared the same blood like him, he was told enough in names and recounts of his parents past, but for all he knew ,and could care for, the only people he could only see as family were the two who brought him into this world, uncle Marcus, uncle Ollie and a few others. Barley a handful at all. He wasn't even sure if he was excited anymore from all that transpired. He barely knew enough as it is. There was a point where his parents refused to tell him more, only guesses made up the rest of the past he wanted to know more of.

And right then and there stands someone new and who shares a piece of him as he her. His auntie in blood.

"Yeah." His father got up, his wife following. "She is." Haiku took hold of her son and lead him away enough for space to be made for the lost siblings. It was like watching some old drama or something to the eyes of boy, but with more cussing.

Leni slowly let her hands drop, in those seconds they shook, then her legs from the first steps she took, soon all of her shook. Unable to take control or hold back, no words said or needed.

Five years. Five goddamn years and this is how it was going to play out, huh? Well he's not complaining. Why should he? He's back. She's here, soon the others. To make amends one has to take the first step, and he wasn't going to wait.

By god she was beautiful. Inches apart, her eyes leaking, wanting—needing to burst the dam. His only held sorrow and regret in a performance of I'm sorry over and over again. The wear and scars on him. Slowly and carefully Leni raised a hand and placed it on his sore cheek, a twitch of his left eye showed her the discomfort from the still lingering pain.

Her breath hitched. "Linky?..."

He smiled, it was small, it was full of love. "I'm not going anywhere." Fighting back the growing lump in his throat. "I...I—Leni I'm sor—"

"LINKY!" The dam broke. Her arms wrapped around his neck as she dove into his chest and sobbed pitifully into him. Her knees buckled and giving up, slowly she descended into the ground with him guiding her. Mascara running, snot staining his hooded coat, wails and choked whimpers escaping her throat. All of it hurting him more than her as he knew he caused this. Like a hand tearing his heart slowly artery by artery, vessel by blood vessel. On the floor he held her tight, she tighter; hands on the others hair as he stroked hers in a soothing manor and she gripping his in the need to hold him. It may hurt but he felt worse...way worse...

Haiku decided to let it slide for once and smiled in the loving scene in front of her. Her son taking in the sight with his own. It made him...happy...why?

Unintelligible gibberish left the dunce's mouth as she was mess of held in hell. Years pouring out in a small time frame, but for her, he was willing to sit this out with her. Rocking her back and forth like he did so with Lily back in the day and his son when moments get tough for them to handle, a hushed whisper of— "I'm here...I'm not leaving..." With a kiss to her temple, her hold tightened as she devolved into a mess of hiccups.

Extending a free arm towards his son. "Lo." He beckoned the boy over, who did such that, though carefully. By that time Leni, though still a teary mess, eyes stained in mascara, was lost in a daze from the boy.

"Tiny Linky..." a hand clasped on her mouth when she was face to face with her nephew.

Lincoln smiled. "It's ok, Lo. Say hi."

The boy nodded. "H-hello au-aunt Leni...I'm Logan..."

She just stared. Looking back on over to Lincoln, he nodded, pushing her slightly. Still on her knees the woman carefully raised a hand over towards her nephew, the boy flinched and so she in kind. Scared he may have been fearful of her Logan then saw she stopped right where his cheek was, he wasn't sure what to do.

"It's ok." Linc nodded.

Looking back at his aunt he took a step forward and leaned closer to her hand, flinching from the foreign limb on his face as he suppressed a shiver that soon morphed into warmth as she caressed his skin with her palm and fingers. Her eyes wide and full of adoration and curiosity with her mouth opened in awe at who was in front of her. She traced his face carefully and as lovingly as she could, her throat constricted from each second that past that she could feel herself choking away.

Logan found himself liking her touch actually. Slowly he leaned into it even more, finding even more warmth.

Leni took her other hand and slowly trailed it through his hair, feeling every strand. Fingers disappearing in the waves of grey.

Logan knew she was a gentle woman. All he needed was a name and he knew, the stories his dad told him was enough to get by. Soon he felt her hands cup his cheeks, she having him look at her by raising his head slightly. A stream of tears gliding downward, pelting the floor like rain drops.

Their eyes interlocked. She was lost in his sea of endless brown and he in her emerald. Before he knew it his auntie leaned forward. Logan stiffened when he felt her lips on his face, right above his right eye, but...he accepted it...he liked it.

"Baby boy..." she whispered, bottom lip quivering.

Before he knew it, she slowly wrapped her arms around him, feeling his back as she brought him into a gentle embrace, the boy not stopping her. His head held between her breasts as he heard her heartbeat. It was therapeutic, he felt...safe...Logan carefully wrapped his arms around her too, gripping her blouse. She laid her chin on top of his head, eyes lost and still teary. He felt water hit him, he didn't mind.

Watching from the ground with a small smile, Lincoln didn't want to ruin moment. Neither did his wife as she continued to smile slightly, her thoughts on Lori leaving her...for now.

The question she has now is:

'Why is she staring at me?'

Right she was when she saw how Leni stared at her, and solely her. Before the confused mother could ask why she saw the blonde stand up, her son letting go, and made her way towards her.

Keeping her usual neutral on her. "We met before, a long time ago, but I can understand if you have forgotten—ahh!" Brought into a quick and surprising hug from the older woman made this young woman widen her eyes in unexpected surprise. Like mother like son indeed when she stiffened exactly like her boy. Startled and not used to such a thing happening to her by others sans her boys and uncle. Not even her father is welcomed when it came to hugs.

She was willing to make exceptions...to some. Her mind was in a bit of panic mode right about now.

'Please let go, please let go, please let go—why isn't she letting go?!'

A snicker made her regress back to the real world, though still stiff and a unwanting of the sudden foreign contact by the blonde. She saw her dear husband laugh at her expression and obvious displeasure. Logan joining in too with a long sleeved hidden hand covering his giggling lips.

'Sigh...' Finding no way out of this she slowly, and awkwardly, patted her sister-in-law on the back.

Remember this was the ditz of the Loud's we're talking about so it takes time for her to process things...

"OMG!" Her screech startled everyone, more so to Haiku as her ear was right freakin' there!

Letting go of her little sister-in-law and cupping her cheeks with her hands. "MOM!"

---

~oOo~

With Lori...

Somewhere on the road...

Lori didn't really make it far, a good three to maybe four to five blocks away from...that mess. Her fingers trembled on the wheel as she started to lose control of herself in a myriad of emotions and threatening, and succeeding, in wanting out of their pent up cage known as her head.

Parking her silvery convertible on some lonely road of some equally lonely neighborhood, underneath a pretty little tree, her only company as it provided a type of veil for the Loud daughter and wife of a Santiago. In normal situations she would growl from mess of leaves falling inside her precious, expensive, car, but this time she didn't even notice the red, orangey, yellowy leaves at all. Not even when a few landed and stuck on her head.

No. She was somewhere else.

She was angry, she was sad, she was...lost. Though that may not be an emotion it should in some sense since a good portion of everyone who ever experienced life would and should feel at some point. Hers was a type of lost that dealt with not that of a love one, as she had that already, though she treated his departure with malice and other negative emotions one would throw on a person behind their back. Nah, her's was that she didn't know what to do.

Something she hates...well one of the many things she hates in the interesting tale that is Lori. Really it gets old quick seeing how she sees herself as the calm pact leader, the one who can answer and solve all the problems with an iron fist accompanied by an authoritarian attitude but can't even keep her emotions from telling her what to do and how not to allow it fuck it all.

That's why there's blame. Can't handle the fault? Why just throw it on another! Hell throw it harder even though they already know they did it and are accepting of it! But say fuck it! Ignore it and keep tossing it at them without a single once of standing face to face and talking like adults.

Question is: what is she guilty of, hmm? Oh, it's maybe something, hence all are guilty of something.

The real estate agent narrowed her eyes in hate, her knuckles white from her continuous tightening of her steering wheel, nails even digging into the edges of her palm, some torn skin with some small droplets of running red. It hurt, just didn't seem she noticed. She wanted to actually, really she wanted this pain. Not as punishment, but as a distraction.

What distraction?

Why the stinging sensation of her palm. She can still feel it. Still feel him when she struck his cheek. How her heart ran a marathon of rage, blood coursing faster and stronger once she saw him lose footing and almost collapse under her like the good cowardly dog he was. To beat him over and over again, raking her claws on his skin, watching him bleed was what she wanted to do.

Than why didn't she do it?

She wanted more, to scream at him for running! For being a coward! For hurting mom! Lily! For hurting...her...

He hurt her...he left her...he...the boy...

"Lo..." she whispered...

The same panic from before, the one she masked during their standoff, came running back full speed inside her. All she could think of from that moment was the boy. Her goddamn nephew of all people. Ignoring all other thoughts as he was the center of her focus. Her brother and...his...woman pushed aside.

Her eyes widened, opened and closed, stinging tears threatened to leave her and she hated it. She didn't want these feelings. This wasn't right! This wasn't...what is it then? Why does she feel this?

Guilt?...

FOR WHAT!? Fury morphed in her face, the clenching of the wheel heard and straining from her strength.

HUH?! For all she cared was that she wished she kneed him in the balls instead.

Her teeth screamed in pain from the continuous grinding, the pounding of her temples morphed into a full migraine. Wincing from the intense internal pain Lori let go of the wheel and gripped her head, even pulling strands of her hair in the process. The blonde beauty.

"Get out!" She moaned. She wanted him out, out of her head, out of her life—their lives! But all that brought was a fiercer reality of the situation thrust upon them, upon her...

When she saw Logan she remembered clearly and could easily recall in the clearest detail of how shook her entire being was from the first sight of him. How he called her brother dad and the woman mama. Yet she didn't see her nephew at all. All Lori saw was that damn pregnancy stick, she saw souring anger and heard the unwanted words and curses thrown out that horrid evening when he dropped the bomb on them...

From that innocent child she saw what split her family apart.

In that moment, in her emotionally unstable mind, she knew, right then and there, she blamed him...not his father or even his mother...she blamed their son...

And that fucked her up...

Unable to contain the dam any longer this woman broke out a fit of choked sobs. Over a worth of five years of pent up pain shooting out of her through her eyes in the form of tears mixed with mascara and mouth from the sounds of strangled coughs and other pitiful sounds of someone unable to comprehend any of this—to accept what's been done.

'BEEP!' Her head smacked against the center of the wheel, the honk echoing throughout the neighborhood, yet non heard. It was just her, her and her thoughts and the sad tree giving her company in her sorrow.

---

~oOo~

Can he do this?..

1216 Franklin Avenue..

Just outside...

How can he do this? A question that was brought up again and again from Manchester, to Dallas, then the flight, the drive and now this. Hell, even before all of that when they came up with the plan to return. How they miraculously found out the house was on sale and all other needs.

He knew he had to be strong, to hold it all in, but it's hard to. Even after all the missions and lives he took and saw in a mutilated or decomposed state of infection or rats and other nasties taking their time on their meal, even he has his limits.

A heart...the one thing everyone said he had, something he kept on his shoulder in pride. Yet it was something that made this life harder whenever it came to a job, forced to fight his mind to push it away—all of it. For some reason it also kept him going.

He felt sick. A growing pit in his gut wanting to come up and splatter the ground in a myriad of yellow and green and all other colors swirling in him—a sick canvas of bile and drool on display.

The reason? As crazy as it sounds it wasn't from the sight or smell of a corpse or any other gory displays etched in his mind for years to come, no, simply it was because he was going to confront his mother...his mama...

Can he even look her in the eyes? After all this time and expect the very woman who stood beside him and brought him in this cruel, violent world to love him in return?

Why is he asking that? What the hell is wrong with him?! Of course she would dammit! This is his mother; no matter what. That doesn't elevate his worries at all, just makes him even more nervous. A slight tremor racks, Leni feels it and so does his wife.

Heh' a guy should be considered lucky having two beautiful women holding his arms from both sides, but remember that one is his sister.

Leni, on his left, refused to even let up in her vice like grip, fearing this may have been a dream or an illusion crafted from her fragile mind. Afraid he, his wife, and their son were not real and it was just her loosing it. That all faded from the feel of his thumb and other digits brushing against her hand. Dragging him along the whole way.

Haiku, on his right, her grip as firm yet soothing at the same time. Slowly she stroked her loves arm in the attempt to put his worries down a notch. She can't blame him for acting like this, even then, where he has mastered the art of the pokerface she can still see through it with relative ease. She sighed softly from the events that just transpired in just—barely even half a day!

It was a headache. God knows how many more will come banging against their skulls from the mere fact his pact of a family is way larger and far more emotional, whilst hers will also...be...a mess of past actions reemerging, she placed those aside for now. One step at a time.

She felt her right hand pulled back and forth, looking over she saw her son swinging their limbs in said direction, trying to distract himself. Trying being the word as he too saw the distress in his fathers face, that making him more worried.

Ah...she forgot. Her usual thin line expression morphed into a slight frown from the fact she didn't include in her thoughts what her little bat had felt or will feel in the coming hours, days, weeks—etc. on their new adventure in the small game called life.

Leni, though she may be slow at times, understood clearly (to the best of her abilities) from how this was a step her little brother (even though he is taller than her) struggled to climb up, but she wasn't letting him go up alone. For all that has happened her wish came true and she wasn't going to let it all fall from here. So with a bright, gentle smile, she pulled her brother along a step, the others following suit.

One step turned to two and two to three, four...five; before long they stood in front of the door.

It was like looking at his life play before him and it was only the door.

Heart pounding...

---

~oOo~

Mama...

Inside the Loud House...

Another day and another rut in her mind. She was stuck and there was no way out than doing nothing but watch tv and see what happens.

With her butt on the couch, Rita sipped her glass of cranberry juice, legs crossed, and aimlessly swirling said glass as she sighed. Looking down next to her was a constant mess of cross outs and scribbled notes of whatever for her next chapter of her latest book, yet writers block decided to be a sneaky little ass and knock down her doors unexpected. She was really looking forward to a day of writing and creating but, alas, such is life, it happens.

She figured that watching whatever was on would be a great motivator and give her a newfound inspiration to continue her work, sadly, she found non of that sans a load of depressing news and the sick reality of the world and its issues.

No matter how many times she changed the channel it was nothing but a constant barrage of the latest news as all revolved around the latest attack from yesterday. The word Manchester on every headline and the growing casualties still being found from rubble and debris, the talks of a memorial service, and the growing demands on action to be put on LC, yet even though she was 'lucky' enough to find a different channel, it was not much of a change at all.

She sighed, with no choice she settled on a news reading on the latest rundown on the current civil war in Russia, along with its spread on neighboring nations.

A frown grew on her face and only deepened from the pictures popping in and out from next to a female Hispanic reporter of the war. Scenes of destruction and death along with the videos of the constant marches of soldiers moving in and out of hell.

'As we can easily tell and see, the Second Russian Civil War still continues to devastate the already scarred nation, leading to now a stalemate between the two parties as, in this month alone, it's estimated that over 12,000 lives were lost between both Loyalist And Ultranationalist forces.' She shuffled her papers, and continued on as a bio hazard symbol shown beside her right shoulder. 'It was also reported that the usage of chemical weapons were as key factor to these lost of life as Loyalist place blame on the Ultranationalist, yet the international community still is reluctant in intervening'

The sight of recorded footage and photos brought a chill through Rita when she saw the groups of gas mask and hazmat soldiers move through the torn streets of a small district, weapons in hand as a haze of sickly green-yellow tinted smoke cover the air. Her throat clenched as memories flashed quickly through her older mind from over 2 decades ago; how she saw her share of body bags from those taken from the plague, but one memory stood out from the other...her father fighting and cursing at the soldiers holding him back as she watches her childhood home set aflame and fall under the hellish fires as she cries in the arms of her husband...how much it hurt when she lost...her mother...

She fought back tears wanting to spill for old wounds.

The girls were too young to understand and she's glad for that. Though the city wasn't hit as hard as others; the fact it was hit at all during that time was a nightmare in its purest form to many. It may be over but the wounds are still there, and for some...they still won't heal.

She knows for sure her time wasn't perfect in its issues and events, but she prefers that than what's happening now. Now...she isn't sure what to call this day and age.

Rita wishes a lot. Yeah she knows that many-if any-wouldn't come true at all. Yet she keeps on dreaming on.

Said dream was simple...that being her baby boy. She thinks of him constantly when alone...it racks her brain, there isn't a day where she would picture him from before as she tries to visualize what kind of man he has become...and...father. That...that was...she doesn't know how to put it...a surprise? Well, yes. But it was more than that when he left.

She likes to go farther, the day he was announced to the already family of seven at the time, god was it a surprise to know it wasn't going to be a girl but a boy—A BOY!

Heh' a small, loving smile took over her lips, her tired eyes closed carefully as she was brought back to memory lane. The excitement and fear of her husband when he had the realization he had no clue on raising a son let alone what to do at all, how the girls were taken back but loved every moment with joy and love for him when he was still in her womb, how Luna sung to him with her head on her mothers bulging stomach; a soft melody full of promises.

How his cries were music to his mother's ears when she held him, her body sore and tired after hours upon hours of intense, painful labor, yet it was beyond the realms of worth it. His baby blue eyes...her eyes...her first gift to him, a little tussle or white hair...her baby boy...

Why did it have to end?

A lone tear, just one, glided down her cheek. Her mind oblivious to the tv.

But that didn't hurt her the most at all. What did was the fact she would never will, maybe ever, meet her grandchild...that is if she (she just knows it's a girl) made it at all—NO! Furiously shaking her head in denial, she REFUSES to think that. What kind of sick idea is her mind playing?!

Opening her eyes when a loud, but slow, knock came from the front door. Confusion sweapt through her as she wondered who was it. She hopes it's non of the door to door salesmen or those wanting to spread the word of their god. May as well see, huh?

Opening the door, drink in hand, Rita was assaulted a bit by the cool winds, causing her to flinch slightly before she stood before a tall figure, her eyes blinked.

"Can I help you, si—" Her voice died immediately when she looked up and saw the very blue eyes she knew well, even if they had faded into a darker color and didn't hold the bright light she loved and cherished each day—she knew right then and fucking there...those eyes...

God...

Not even noticing her daughter or the other woman on his right, or even the child hiding behind his mother as he tried to find a good view, Rita did the only sensible thing and that being by dropping her glass, drink and shards flying as the shattering caused Leni and Logan to flinch.

Feeling to urge to go to her mother and console her in growing worriment, Leni had to fight herself mentally and physically from doing so. They needed this.

Haiku knew this, but Logan didn't. Feeling her son push her slightly to see what's going on, she sidestepped but held her arms crossed around her son's chest, keeping in still. When the boy looked up at her and wanted to ask why she silenced him with a look.

Looking back at the growing scene of emotion, she knew her love was in every way a mama's boy. Not like it really mattered, he loved her and will always as he always spoke highly of her back in the day. It makes sense as to why he couldn't hold himself the way he usual does.

Rita barely held herself also, her body trembling, hands flying to her mouth as she tried to make sense of the growing hell inside her going insane. All the emotions playing and swirling through her fucking her skull to the point a pounding pain racked her head. She refused to believe who is in front of her—she didn't want to.

After all this time...why now?...WHY?!

She wanted to scream, she wanted to cry, she wanted to hold him and hit him over and over for leaving her! She wanted...her boy to hold her. She wanted to love him again and him her in the way they always did from before.

Was she a good mother? Where did she go wrong? Was she too lenient? Too...she can't do this. Her legs nearly gave out as she was forced to lean against the wall for support.

Yeah...she can't do this...

No...

Then why is moving?

Her feet shuffled lightly as she forced herself to the man that held blue eyes and hair like snow.

He couldn't look at her, head turning to the right, tears threatening to break rank. He couldn't do it either.

Lincoln Loud: private contractor, higher up of Melody, professional killer, father, husband, son and brother couldn't find it in him to look at the woman who birthed him to this world...

Coward...

A complete utter coward who can't look her in the eye.

He felt like a monster—a bastard that ruined it all. It felt like getting shot over and over again when he heard her strangled whimpers, a bullet tearing him apart slowly...god he wished it was a bullet instead of this.

Teeth gritted, nails sinking deeper and deeper into his palms, nostrils flared as he hated himself again. Unable to even notice the look his son gave him as he stared at his father with those innocent, dark chocolate eyes of his. How much his look-a-like couldn't believe the man before him, his hero, could look so...so weak...

Wait...he tilted his head, cheek leaning against his mother's arm, are those tears? His eyes narrowed then widened...they are. This is the first time he's ever seen that from his father...this is the first time he saw his father...cry.

How dare you...stand before her...

He knew this will be a challenge, let alone now it's hell on his mind. He ran an away with her, he understands perfectly what their actions had done. Some scars here and there but that's just a fact of life.

One cannot go their entire life without a scratch; both mentally or physically. If you had though...well your the luckiest motherfucker on this planet.

'Mom...' A word with many meanings. Caregiver, life bringer, the woman who kissed his wounds, rocked him to sleep, sang to him, told tales to him, have always been there for him and he made her cry.

'What have I done?' Repeatedly he shook his head. 'I have to fix this...'

How?

'Fuck it.'

She barely could make it to him as he was the one who instead took the initiative, said woman was taken back by her heart racking soft sobs and the man walking towards her she flinched when she felt his hands clasped down on her shoulders. His mere touch reopened the hidden scars of her heart that she fought back.

His mouth opened and closed, unable to find the words needed to be said as he fought her back too, still holding on as the woman before him shook and effortlessly tried her damndest to escape the grasp of her wayward son. When her hands met his in the attempt to pry him off she gasped. She forgot the feeling of his skin on her fingers, unconsciously she gripped his hands before she shook her head repeatedly, memories of holding a little boys hands as she spun him in a circle as joyous screams filled her mind made her cry harder than before.

But she kept on fighting...why?

Dropping her hands she suddenly began to pound them against his chest.

"Let go, Let go, Let go!"

He didn't. Instead he did something better. With all the strength he could muster he pulled the woman close against him and wrapped his arms around her, resting his chin on her shoulder. Her eyes were wide, mouth agape, tears falling and mascara running. In her mind she fought and fought before it all came crashing down. Holding her was him...her baby...her boy...and he was crying...in pain...her boy was in pain...

It was his turn to sob and fight when she hugged him back.

'I don't deserve this...' Repeated over and over throughout his mind.

He froze suddenly when he felt the hands of his mother on his head, softly she stroked his hair, fingers lost in his tangled snow locks.

"It's ok," she whispered. Her voice fragile, gentle, full of love for him and him alone. "You're here...my baby boy...you're here."

Together they held the other and sobbed, her face pressed against his chest as she stained his hoddie, his on her shoulder as he stained her shirt, yet non cared.

Muffled, he continuously said—"I'm sorry." Yet she hushed him, even softly rocking him.

Leni's sniffles could be heard as she found nothing but joy in the moment. Haiku too smiled, carefully she swiftly wiped a stray tear away before any could see. Logan found it heart warming but all so...it was a lot to take in for someone as young like him.

Before he could do anything the boy felt a tap on his head from his mother. Looking up he saw her nod and motion towards the two adults, gulping he nodded in return. Given a light push by his mama the child rubbed his hands as he made his way over.

"D-dad?" When his voice registered within the older man he lifted his head off his mother and turned to face his boy, Rita as well when she heard the unfamiliar voice...only to freeze...

'Dad...' That word bounced inside her mind when she saw a sight that would imprint in her forever more. What she saw made all color leave her face. Standing before her was...oh god...

She knew who it was, it doesn't take a genius...

There was only one justifiably thing she could do in this situation...

She screamed.

---

~oOo~

Lunch is served...

Royal Woods...

Lynn's Table...

It was any other day to Lynn Loud Sr, and he loved it. The sight of customers coming and going with gusto as they are satisfied beyond relief by his organismic tasting cooking, the making of fond memories of lovers, friends, and a little birthday here and there, he was content with what he created. All the hardwork and support finally made into a reality.

A dream come true many would say.

Humming a slight tune the older Loud masterfully maneuvered his pan in one hand, and the other stirring a pot. His waiters and other cooks giving it their all as the day goes on with more and more hungry customers.

Smile never wavering, apron stained and dirty, giving commands and encouragement and praise as he goes on.

Nothing could ruin this day.

Suddenly the sound of cowbells sung from his right pocket as he felt the vibrations against his leg. Removing his phone he quickly stepped out of the kitchen towards the back with the dumpsters. He was confused as to why his wife was calling him at this hour, he shrugged anyways.

Pressing accept he held the phone to his ear. "Hey, hon, what's—" He stopped as worriment swam through him when he was assaluted by the sounds of sniveling, hiccups, and choked gasps.

"Rita? Honey what's wrong?" Yet his answer was the same, more sobs and garbled words. It wasn't long until she hung up. Now he was slightly scared. Ready to call her back he stopped when a ping sounded. Looking at his phone he saw it was a text with a picture tagged to it.

Blinking he tapped the icon...

So he stared and read...

He stared...and read...

And read and stared...

Over and over...

His phone kissed the ground, screen cracked, he didn't care.

Eyes wide, blinking repeatedly, it wasn't long until his ass met the ground too. Gasping in ragged breaths.

Unable to comprehend at what he just saw.

Though broken, dirty, and slightly wet, the screen was still bright. On it was a picture of a little boy no older than, say, four? Five? Maybe six? Either way he was child. Grey locks, dark brown eyes, pale skin, sitting on his couch, nervous smile on his face.

Under it was the typed message:

[Our grandson...his name is Logan...come home quick...Lynn...he's back.]

---

Found and posted the thrid chapter. ONLY ONE MORE TO GO

Does the Electric Slide