Not the Same - Comeback Chapter 3 - Family, a loud house fanfic

Royal Woods, Michigan... Loud House Residence... Living Room...

2023...

She's beautiful...

Two simple words that ﬁlled the heads of every resident of the Loud House, even Lily, who didn't have a solid clue on what's going on, couldn't help but admit that the baby in the arms of the strange man that was apparently her long-lost brother was cute—undeniably so. The seven-year old kept on looking back and forth at her family, concerned and slightly scared from the emotions and reactions that have fell upon them. Her older sisters, each ﬁghting or in the middle of a continuing crying ﬁt, Leni more open as she held both hands to her mouth, eyes blurry, soft sobs emanating from her weak attempt in a barrier.

But Lisa...she was somewhere else. Lily couldn't place it but when she took one good look at her genius sister all she saw was probably the deﬁnition of lost. How her roommate could only stand stock still, mouth agape, already messy hair pulled on and made worse by her right hand. The usual stoic, almost completely, emotionless genius was in a twisted hell from a wish that was prayed, fought, and engineered for six long years. A dream that came true which only brought her so much pain in barely a day.

Even her mommy was in such a state she only saw once before in her short existence, and that was during a Mother's Day a year back when Lily was six. Rita thought she was alone, a day to herself, but Lily saw the door of the master bedroom slightly ajar, and being the curious little one she was, peeked. What she saw was horrible to say the least. Broken words and jumbled sobs; her mother, the strongest woman she ever known, in agony.

It was supposed to be a happy day that day was. Lily swore she saw a picture frame in her mother's hand, added to that was the brief glimpse of white hair...hair like Pop-Pop, like her brother...like this man standing next to the wall with the front door behind him.

She just couldn't believe it that this strange man was her big brother. It was insane, it was so unexpected in this lone day without warning. From the stories she was told and the pictures and the home videos she saw, she expected to see a nice person, someone who holds her blood in his veins to be...clean. He was not. Dear god no.

God was this confusing! She just came home for an amazing as always cooking from her daddy only for hell to break loose from one person.

Speaking of that person, she was...afraid. Very. He just wouldn't stop looking at her, she was in his sights for minutes on end that she swore from every movement she took to shake him oﬀ, moving to the leG, behind her big sister Lynn, and ﬁnally where she is now, next to the stairs he followed like a sniper guard ready to blow away his target into a pink mist of brain and quick death...he never blinked either.

Those eyes. Those cold blue eyes held something deep within she didn't want to know. They reminded the little girl of one of Lucy's many favourite monsters: Vampires. On the covers of her creepy, weird books and posters- orbs that belong to a corpse...but worse. She didn't know how but his eyes were far worse and more lifeless, or so she thought. From within those endless blues there was a light, a small one, that shone when he contacted hers'; a light that glimmered when he saw them. If she narrowed her eyes and leaned far enough she could almost make out that lone tear stain on his right cheek, that and the multiple scars on him.

Swallowing a lump in her throat Lilster averted her gaze and shifted over to her family, ﬂickering back to him hoping he would stop staring...he didn't.

For some strange reason though, Lily felt almost...drawn to him. A feeling she cannot remember, its almost like the one she has for her sisters and parents, yet this felt weirder...almost stronger.

Though another thing that made her tilt her head in more puzzlement: What's with the red paint on his clothes? Well if you can call what's on him clothes in the ﬁrst place. That, and the large backpack on him.

Lori, the oldest, an adult, and the most level-headed (at times) was shell shocked. Pacing herself as she couldn't ﬁnd the words to say as like the others. Stained mascara long having been runny smeared her face, mouth opening and closing, ﬁghting back more strangled sobs wanting to rush up and take her over. The blonde beauty wanted many things; to scream and hug him, to cry and kiss him over and over telling him how much she loved him, to even all at the same time. For all that has happened it had to be today-a Sunday of all day! Second of the worst days of the fuckin' week leading to the ﬁrst worst day. God...there was so much in her mind that...that...the-the-th-A BABY! A BABY GIRL-HIS BABY GIRL!

This was beyond her, right palm pressed against her forehead, eyes ﬂickering down on his entirety that she felt sick at his appearance. That broken look in his face destroyed her a little, his scars that ruined the perfect face she used to kiss every night when he was a baby until he was four. Those eyes...they can't be his.

No. No whatever the case she was happy...she was confused...she... Lori didn't know what to do.

'Lyla' She mouthed, barely a soft whisper.

Said baby preoccupying herself with her father's hand he generously placed in front of her absentmindedly, one of her most favourite 'toys'. Playing with his calloused ridden ﬁngers, making gibberish that touched all their ears, a sound that made Leni's lip quiver, Rita biting hers, Lana wanting to rush and look at her, tapping her foot restlessly, and Luna savouring each garble and high-pitched squeal of innocence, a tiny smile on her beautiful face smeared in her purple eyeshadow.

Leni...Leni, Leni, Leni...heh'. A name for a wonderful young woman blessed with a heart a few could carry strong so naturally for so long. A fragile minded one that was ﬁghting World War 3 inside herself. Out of all them, Lisa and Rita a close second and third, she was the most hurt emotionally.

Nights she remembered how Lori would have to hold her from hurting herself from a nightmare turned screaming fest that awakened the whole house if not whole neighbourhood. Linky was always the one word able to be registered during that hellish two years, it wasn't until the third she whimpered his name in a hoarse whisper in sleep, though, unfortunately, Lori was still able to hear, a big reason why she took the night shift at work- she didn't want to hear it and who can blame her.

This was too much for her, enough to fry her tiny brain a million times over she couldn't and wouldn't cease in her continuous crying, the hitching of breath that soon morphed into hiccups that eventually hurt her chest, but it was a distraction and she needed one...to bad that failed. Her will to keep strong faded away fast from the baby, Lyla...her name is Lyla... His daughter...

Her niece...

"Baby girl" She choked out. Lincoln's ear twitched, his tired stare ﬂipped over to Leni who wept harder when she looked directly at him. She saw so much—too much—from that face she loved unconditionally, and still will, each mark on his cheeks, chin, forehead—everywhere! Filled her with the need to hold him and ﬁll him with pent up love.

What happened to her Linky?

Luna, her eyes, like Lori, her mother, everyone was locked to that baby, even with her baby bro standing there she just was drawn to that kid...that perfect babe...another Loud. She couldn't believe it, wiping away more tears before they could form pricks on her eyes, smearing more mascara without a shit given, the gifted rocker smiled a strained one that was borderline sadness and great happiness. One on that he was here, he was back! And second was because of Lyla.

Yeah she's shocked, mind in a frenzy as her brain cells kamikaze each other for some sense, but the mere look at that kid made her...happy...why? She couldn't place it but his daughter...woah that's a weird sentence.

A daughter, his kid, all of it was a whole other level of a mess for her. For so long she dreamed of the day of him in front of her, she just never thought it would end up with her screaming in panic and falling apart like a little girl but for all she cares she happily says fuck you to embarrassment and saving face as all she wanted was to hear those words again: 'I love you.' Such a simple phrase said over and over for centuries past from all over the world of each nation, but it meant everything to Luna, it meant heaven and hell for the rocker.

Her hand twitched, the same hand that was engulfed in his larger one. She wanted his touch again; she wanted him to hold her and not let go. When they detached appendages, she felt the strange, well known, spiraling mess of lost. She wanted so much in so little time, she wanted to be selﬁsh even as wrong as it is seeing her sisters deserve the equal chance with him...Lisa a lot more.

Something they all can agree.

Shaky gasps escaped Luan as she played with the hem of her skirt, scraping her nails against her knuckles as a way in ﬁnding a release in her ﬁdgeting.

Unable and unwilling to stand in one place it took so much willpower within chuckles to not fall, oh how she wanted to fall and say so much in one spew of words. To release all the pent up suﬀering in hopes that this wasn't a cruel trick her mind is playing on her, or even worse, a dream...that in every sense would mean full hell for her. A hell that will drive her further down a suppressed edge she has fought with a smile. You know the saying, right? The saddest people smile the brightest. He was important to her in every way she could imagine...she only realized though when Lisa said she couldn't ﬁnd him.

That's all it takes, and she gets it now.

Just one bad day for a piece of your world to crumble. A wall in their chaotic castle torn asunder.

One bad day...

Man...She has been influenced by The Joker, hasn't she...

"Dada!" She and everyone else jumped from that innocent squeal of delight leaving the mouth of that precious bundle in his arms, watched as the blue fabric of the blanket stretch when his daughter clapped her hands, he smiled the tiniest of any Luan has even seen as he booped her little nose.

That wasn't right. It looked almost alien when he smiled...

Lyla...oh how such a little name from a little one can cause such a rift throughout so many all at once. Luan's lips quivered, her heart pounding faster and harder that she felt the beating against her temples from every light giggle coming from the baby.

The 'almighty' Lynn Loud Jr we all know and love crossed her arms tighter, pulling her skin with digging nails. A seasoned veteran of a gal in ass-kicking and taking any risk no matter the cost, and that's the truth, considering all the gnarly injuries she acquired from her numerous actions from the past, wall climbing being the worse of them...if she only she knew what her brother saw happen to the human body than she be considered lucky than the ones from that other Earth.

If only she knew what he done to people.

Angry that her 'weak side' was winning her little civil war within, tears that forced her to move back a step and whip her head from the side so the young man of her attention won't see her in such a pathetic image. That damn growing lump in her throat, every breath hurt more than the ones she knew well on the ﬁeld when high oﬀ the rush and power of her numerous games.

And her rough side telling her to suck it up wasn't helping matters. All she wanted was to say one thing.

Sorry. That's the one of three things she wanted to say and do to him. To just explode in a ﬁt of sorrys for all she has done to him the past; in being the little demon she was when they were younger, how she threatened him out of her own desires, and how she never treated him like she should. How she wanted to hold him and collapse in on herself and promise she would be better. The second thing she wanted to do was hit him...over and over again as she screams at him for being gone so long. As wrong as it sounds-which it was-she didn't know why but that's what she wanted...and she felt disgusted for wanting that...hating...self hate. A very thing she has been ﬁlled with for these past six years that only got stronger after the Battle for Bun-Bun. And the third and ﬁnal thing she wanted to do was to hold that baby.

That's it...all she wanted was to hold Lyla. Her light green eyes was dead set on her niece, her heart tugging hard, the lumps growing deeper and harder to the point breathing in general may as well be damn near impossible.

She was his, abso-fucking-lutely that baby was his...she can see it with ease. She can also see...him. The way he stood, a position that screamed paranoia, his body leaning forward with the occasional twitch that only her well-trained eyes could perceive. She swore it was like he was ready to spring up without warning, the tapping of his right foot, and the burning gaze of his orbs with the dark, sunken bags underneath that screamed a feeling unlike any she has ever seen. It made her feel sick.

Lucille, or Lucy, the only movement was her chest in her breathing, the twitching of her pale ﬁngers, her equally blue eyes which she shared with her big brother, though more alive (her version of alive) wide and roaming. An unexpected action she took that brought out surprise from the Louds even the prodigal son himself as he slightly, barely a centimetre, tilted his head to the left, she physically lifted the rest of her bangs away from her face, exposing everything to everyone instead of that one eye.

Why?

So, she can be sure it wasn't a trick. For the whole time she was pressing her sharp nails within her left palm, sinking deeper and deeper, focusing on the pain as she knew right then and there it was all real, the hell was over. The dreaded blanket of black that even she of all people wanted gone was lifted.

Or maybe the hell has just begun?

Dark purple mixed black streaks of mascara mixed tears continued to run down her face, past her cheeks, and falling oﬀ her delicate chin. Though not a complete waterfall of eye sadness she was close to that point. The teenage goth didn't want him to see her cry.

Ever that Duchess of Darkness that called the nightmares and despair her domain or something, that lock in her heart that froze over like metal in a Russian winter wanted to be broken for once as she couldn't handle all of it. Even a person like her has a limit and she was past the tipping point. Her circle of goths at school don't understand and won't be able to feel what she felt. Maybe that's why she was made the defacto head of the Senior Mortician's Club, she was the gloomiest out of them after all. Haiku, her closest, if not, best friend, couldn't comprehend what it's like to lose that one person that made this complicated world a bit better...what's it's like to lose that one guy that made life worth living.

She thought of it...really she has...suicide.

She never acted on it, but the faded cuts on her wrists have something else to say.

None were of the wiser.

She needed him. The key to her locked soul.

Still searching him over, her heart, as so called callous she wants many to think, melted in a steady pace as she widened her eyes even further by watching the movements of her...niece. How long was it for this? For all Lucy felt the world was solely around them and them alone, playing a somber tune with a hint of happiness in its melody. Said melody was the sounds of the child in his arms.

"Ok, ok baby girl~"

She ﬂinched from the words that left his mouth, how that voice of his: rougher, tired, hollow, and colder belong to him. It wasn't right to her or any of them who knew his voice by heart. Given now that he is a teenager it was straightforward for his tone to change, especially for a boy, but it just sounded so wrong...almost broken.

"Alright, Ly hold on." They watched as their brother/son removed his daughter from her sling, revealing her full little form, clad in her onesie, messy beanie removed as her soft, white locks are exposed to the vented air. Leni and Rita cried harder. A croak left Lisa's mouth, as Lynn Sr licked his dry lips. Adoration ﬁlled Luna's eyes as her brother allowed himself to have his cheeks patted by his baby girl.

But Lucy was pulled away from another white, that being the worn shirt underneath his jacket. Just one colour that put focus on itself more than the others, almost completely hidden by his drooping scarf, red...she saw faded red splotches. An almost rustic red that smeared and ran all over.

Her mouth, already closed moments earlier, shifted into a thin line, she had a good idea on what that was, she hopes its...it's not his.

The twins, Lord knows how hard they wanted to push each other down as they race towards Lincoln and hug him tight, cry and berate themselves just so he won't leave them again. It took a shit ton of willpower on Lola's and Lana's part not to do so.

Which is why the older princess, if not closer to a queen now, was holding on to her tomboy counterpart, gripping Lana's stronger arm as hard as she can as her twin doesn't bat an eye as Lana was shaking like a beaten puppy in the rain while the master taunts from the warm inside.

Her prince, her great white-haired prince was here. Blinking her eyes Lola tried to form words but like the others a hoarse croak left her mouth, reeling back, shaking her head as her yellow, silky locks wisp around, a few covering her eyes in loose strands. But looking closer, this was not the brother she remembered. It was like he was here but wasn't at the same time. Her heart clenched, mind in overdrive from his appearance, how he scared her when he looked up. Tensed like a beast from the stories she was read at night so long ago. But handsome like the heroes of said stories, he held a rugged look. Her nose twisted in natural disgust from the wretched smell coming oﬀ him, enough to make her gag, yet even then she wanted a piece in hugging him with her all might.

Then why didn't she? Why was she afraid?

"Oh my god..." Lola gave a side glance to her twin. Lana reaching a trembling hand pointed towards his daughter. She pictured Lori would be the one who would give their family the next generation, hell maybe even Luna considering how she batted for both sides and couldn't keep her legs shut when the partying gets real during the weekends. Believe her, Lola has seen a few guys run out of the house on some occasions.

But this...

More tears fell from both the twins. Unable to make sense of their brother who was busy brushing his right hand on the black coat hanger, cradling his little girl with his right as she sucks her thumb.

Though for all they cared for he was here—HE WAS HERE! After all this time! All this pain! The lies of saying they were ok over and over to friends and teachers can ﬁnally end...they can be a family again.

So they hoped...

"Jesus Christ..." Lynn Sr repeated for god knows how many times without end, but who can blame him?

He was never the closest father to his boy, his only boy that is, but at least he was there...though not as much as his wife was.

He loved him the same, it only fucked him harder in the head and heart to know he could've been better. No matter how much his wife and daughters reassured him, saying how he was the best and most amazing dad there was wasn't enough to stop this feeling of failure to his son.

He never told his daughters, but after Luna was born he prayed for a son, begged even during Jr's pregnancy. Got his wish after nearly giving up...and what of it? He felt he neglected him after his...departure from that horrid science presentation. As he tried to recall all the moments in their life together when it was just them, father and son bonding, he crashed into nothing but blanks.

Well actually, he vaguely remembers teaching his boy how to ride his bike without training wheels. But Jr...pulled him away for help in her batting...then...oh ya...Lori for her golf and Luna so she could have someone help tune her guitar...then—it just kept going. Next thing Loud patriarch knows he was watching Rita help push her son and cheer him on after he got the hang of with his balance...

Damn it all...no...damn himself, he thought with a look of self failure. His self loathing was short lived though, the older man, greying and all, looked up without hesitation, as if those little gurgles and coos of pure innocence was in control and pulling the imaginary strings of his form. A gob smacked expression, though closing slightly, still painted over the face of the Loud patriarch. All caused by a child who still is unknowing of the world or even the concept that is life. His sons seed who in turn was his granddaughter...his only and ﬁrst grandchild.

Even then he cannot stop in his tremors that continued to plague in without stop; from when he saw his boy...boy heh' now that he looks at it he cannot really label him as a boy anymore. He just couldn't stop shaking, it only intensiﬁed like an earthquake in Japan when Lyla was pulled from her protection.

He was an emotional man, any idiot who at least spent an hour or even sat with him during a showing of the Titanic on TV can tell. Maybe it was part of his nature, or it could be a byproduct of being surrounded by estrogen for so long. And with this raging ﬂurry that ﬁlled his mind, and heart-his very damn soul-Lynn teared up, keeping back the strangled hiccups from coming up as he wanted nothing more than to look down on that baby girl and conﬁrm she was, and her father was, real. He had to be strong for all of them, when his wife sobbed he held her tight and soothed her to best of his abilities. To nights with the twins, him standing with Leni after a night terror when Lori couldn't do it anymore, to even consoling the very young woman that held his namesake. There is so much strength a man can carry before his walls break apart.

He even began to think of the very possibility his son was dead...that thought made him disgusted of himself. Hell, Rita slapped him once for voicing that one night as he laid next to her, he became friends with the couch for six nights.

Yet, with what they lost in front of him, he still wasn't set free, that damn lingering prick in the back of his head stabbed hard, his mouth fully closed that his jaw was locked, soreness ﬁlled his mouth, trouble swallowing even the slightest of spit. Free from what? Why worriment...that's one. He dreamt of this day, but what he experienced once more was that reality was far from the dreams.

He can't help to admit, but he feels like he's looking at a stranger in the skin of his son. What he imagined what he would look like from all these years is a far cry from what was real. Dirt, grime, the tattered wear and stitch held clothing, to the mess of a backpack. Even more added to his face: broken...the only way, if not the best, to describe what he sees in one word. And the baby? Lyla? Where was her mother?

Pressure weighed on Lynn Sr harder from, just now, realizing his son was, and should be, seventeen...and he was a father. That thought in mind was halted when he saw his granddaughter reach up and grip strands of her father's hair. Lincoln winced slightly, though in the smallest of creases from his brow, when she pulled hard. He, and everyone else, watched as he just rubbed a thumb on her right cheek as she pulled even harder, a low grunt leaving him.

With no control even more tears ﬂed the Loud patriarchs eyes.

Mother and son. If there was one person in this large pact that suﬀered the hardest it was Rita, though Lisa...a close second at best. What made her diﬀerent from her daughters, and the man she loved and sired all his children for...she was the one who carried him for those long nine months, the greatest nine months if she can say, one that was worth the back pains, cramps, constant hunger and the searing pain of feeling like she was being ripped apart again when it was time. How she saw him take his ﬁrst breath, his ﬁrst word 'Mama', his ﬁrst day at school, all the wounds she kissed, the hugs and unconditional love from all the times they played and spent on the couch huddled together as he refused to let go when he barely reached her knee. You know what's the deﬁnition of hell for her? The very fact one of her babies was ripped away from her...that's hell. To not know but still know, if that makes sense, he's out there somewhere, alone, scared, without guidance or love...the very idea of him in pain destroyed her already damaged heart. Her lips quivered from each scar line she eyed carefully; her baby boy was damaged. A bitter blanket wrapped around her tongue.

Absentmindedly, Rita traced her ﬁngers of her right over the wet spot created by the very tears of her son when she held him tight with his head cradled on her shoulder. Still drying slowly.

She didn't want it to end, to let go as she wanted to hold on tighter, taking him all in her arms as the young man before her needed her. He needed his mother. Pulled away from a small, in the literal sense, surprise that rocked her core like a tactical nuke dropped on some godforsaken land of a poor city without warning. How she wanted to scream but instead gasped at the baby that held eyes foreign to her but with a face and hair that she knew greatly by memory and heart. Rita couldn't, maybe didn't, believe at ﬁrst, but one good look and a nod and his words that came next conﬁrmed it to her.

Her older mind racked with inﬁghting. So many questions she wanted to spew out as well as the need and desire to touch her grandchild and her father in tandem as she quivers and devolves into the little girl she was so many years ago. She just wanted to know what happened, what did he see to obtain such eyes like those. Orbs far more devoid than the times her father was coaxed into regaling old war stories of his time in Vietnam, the predator feel of the air around him, the scars and stains of red and muck that coated his clothing. She just wanted to know what happened to her baby boy.

So, this is the end result, huh Einstein? All the blood, sweat, tears, and constant inner and outer self hate in the form of punches and curses that would make even the most hardened of street rats agape. The already healing red marks on her knuckles ﬂared in pain that ran through her, a product of last nights vented rage from another failure...

Well, that is...but this time something else happened.

What was this? Was it a sign that god existed and heard her prayers? Or maybe the great creator decided to fuck with her and make it seem it was true. That or she was asleep the entire time and it was all a great big fucked up dream...yeah a dream...has to be. All she knew was failure for those past dreaded years. Years that drilled her head with inability to function without any great substance of caﬀeine through coﬀee and energy drinks, bad for her health yes, but how else was she supposed to stay awake, with sleep?

HA! She hasn't slept right in years. Even when she does the little genius of a Loud doesn't feel like getting up at all. She didn't see the point at all...sometimes she'll cry...other times she wishes...heh' Lisa Loud crying? As crazy as it sounds she's human like the rest of us. She loves, she hates, she feels simple as that. Now she feels lost...or something like that. She simply refuses of what's in front of her; her breath labored, almost hyperventilating, choking on her spit. She removed her damn glasses and scrubbed away with all her might on the lenses not giving any care at the slight creaking of pressure on the expensive eye helpers. This was nothing more than a lie. Racking what's left of her prodigal mind, deducing it was all just an illusion of massive insomnia.

Over and over she heard those words. 'It's all your fault' Those disgusting words that tore through her like a frog pinned on a student's table, gutted like a worthless ﬁsh, how it broke her even more, her shell of emptiness breaking and fading into ashes of mocking gestures—

'It's all your fault

It's all your fault

It's all your fault!'

'STOP IT!' She screamed in her mind, never was one to lose self control, but she was no longer that same girl. Forcing her eyes close, shaking her head, but the image was still there. Him and that-that baby. That child! It can't be that easy. It can't even be true.

She didn't mean it...she just wanted to show the judges a great innovation of mankind. He was the lab rat like he always was...she's sorry. She just wants to sleep in peace for once.

'CLINK'

So soft but audible at the same time, the stranger in familiar skin and hair like snow held an object held by a chain dangling a strange orb of a faded red that swung like a pendulum. Lisa carefully looked up, focusing her eyes as she stood slacked jaw at what she saw.

The beacon...her ﬁnal gift to him. All he had left of them in physical form than the memories he feared were slipping away from each passing day of survival.

As his child leaned her little self forward in the attempt to grab the object in hand her father swung it slightly with the tinniest of smiles. Eyes that

held in par like Lisa, but a shade of a diﬀerent color, stared longly at the object in hand. His tracker, what was meant to pinpoint is location turned into a souvenir of his past.

To the Louds present it was met with confusion, some had to dig deep as they felt they seen it before. But for Lisa Loud...it was like staring at a ghost.

Two simple words left her brothers mouth, rough and slightly drawled like a drunk man.

"It worked."

A bitter chuckle morphed in his throat, coming out rough and raspy.

"Well...kinda...heh"

That did it.

Simple words is all it takes for a moment like this to fall apart.

And, shockingly, it was Lynn Jr that broke rank. The nineteen year old beauty of an ass kicker aimed directly for the only other male that shared her blood. Her body trembled, teeth gritted as muﬄed grunts escaped her mouth along with shaking ﬁsts. Lincoln stared at her with slight awe as he gained a closer look from every step she took. She grew up...who's he kidding? They all did...and he missed it. In his mind back in that hell he imagined what they would look like, so many possibilities but they ended the same: beautiful in their own right...and he was right.

It's funny. Just came out of nowhere, no warning or ﬁnal whatever...it...he's here...he ﬁgured that was life in a nutshell, just jumbled randomness with a hint of crazy 'cause that's the life he lived...that's the one he knows.

Before he knew it, shuﬄing his arm slightly for Lyla, she was standing before him. The others didn't know how to react as they watched with bated breath, though Leni was falling apart fast as she took a step forward herself. He was forced to look down slightly to meet her eyes, the very green orbs that held a ﬁre he always admired. The passion and great conﬁdence that his older sister by two years...heh' it was funny in its own right that he had look down at her-Lynn Loud Jr of all people.

Yet besides all the past achievements combined with names and awe and love and cheer of her name in the courts and competitions of sports all this young man saw was a face he yearned to touch and believe was real as his leg twitched, from the slight rapid beat of his heart, and the slightest lost of breath. A face that haunted him...one of twelve...well...actually thirteen...

'Liz...'

Jumping slightly from the sudden feel of a soft but rough hand carefully feeling his face, pulled from his self-pain of the one he loved and lost, his eyes ﬂickered down to the green wet in tears of his older sister. Taking every detail, he can he came to ﬁnd acceptance, though small. Maybe it was ﬁnally over, maybe he can ﬁnally start over.

Maybe Lyla can have a chance.

He knows he too far down the rabbit hole for a second chance...

Lynn's lips quivered as she uttered one word. "Lincoln?..."

He blinked, smiling as he raised his own hand and carefully brushed his ﬁngers against her stray bangs of brown. She gasped from the sudden sensation of callouses and warmth of his palm.

"You're short." He said.

Lynn blinked, mouth slightly open as she stared owlishly at him. That's it?

That's all he has to say to her-'Your short' nothing more? But for some reason unknown her mouth quivered, lips curving upward as a low chuckle left her. Little by little it grew until full blown laughter took her over, tears slipped from the broken damn, snot soon followed.

Raising a clenched hand Lynn smacked him lightly on the chest. "You bastard." A crack in her laughter.

"You bastard." Again she smacked him, harder than the ﬁrst. "You bastard."

The laughter was gone as pain crept over and ﬁlled her voice as she continued to hit him harder and harder. He stayed in place, unmoved, letting her.

"You bastard.

"You bastard."

"You bastard!"

"YOU BASTARD!"

Her ﬁst fell apart as she resorted to pathetic smacks of her palms that simply rolled oﬀ his body like a dog pawing for attention. Her face covered in tears as she cried harder and harder, voice inaudible with her words garbled and gone. A strong hand landed on the back of her head, she looked up.

"Lada." She jumped from the softest of touch she has ever felt from a tiny hand unsullied and still pure, feeling small digits tap her cheek. Lynn turned her head as she meet the brightest green she has ever seen. Lyla, curious at the stranger close to her and hitting her daddy, continued to smack her aunts face. "Lada! Lada!"

She didn't know what do. Recoil was one option but the male holding her had something else in mind. Carefully grasping her chin, he turned her face to him, an expression of a lost little girl masked her, something he has never seen, but today was one full of surprises.

"I think she wants to say hi," he said gently. He moved her face without resistance towards her niece.

"Lyla, this is Lynn. One of your aunties."

'Lyla...'

"Lada!" The one-year-old smacked her cheek again, giggling the entire time.

"No, baby girl. Lynn."

"Lada! Lada!" Jr did not react beside blink from every time the infant made contact with her face.

"Eh' close enough."

Lynn brought a shaky hand forward, catching the tiny appendage of her niece, engulﬁng the entire hand with delicate care she feared the child may as well be made of the most expensive of porcelain money could buy. She let her hand be swung around without eﬀort from the baby, who in turn gazed at her, only Lyla blinked from this undeclared staring contest...before bringing her aunts hand to her mouth, drooling all over her knuckles.

Lincolns smile widened by a fraction, he whispered to his sister, "She likes you."

She met her limit. Lynn fell apart fully right then and there. Burying the side of her head on his chest, letting out sobs of held in agony needed to be released, her hand still in the mouth of his daughter. Her cries pierced the hearts and minds of every Loud present, her brother looking down at her as he rubbed her head, she gripping his pant leg with her other hand.

The others followed. Hell, he nearly forgot about them until Leni screeched-"LINKY!" With speeds that would put the broken athlete by his feet to shame. Nearly pushed against the wall as Lynn was pulled away by her older sister, her hand leaving Lyla's gums. Leni latched with all her might on her brother, unable to be pried oﬀ as she refused to budge, legs dangling slightly on his taller frame. In the spur of the moment ﬁlled rush of her glomp, Lyla burst into a ﬁt of giggles, he regained his footing before another weight was added.

"BIG BROTHER!" Lana buried her face deep within his jacket, not minding (or even noticing the smell). Very words that meant more than she ever thought this twelve-year-old twin feared will never be uttered again in her life. Words that stirred a lost warmth inside her brother that he

believed he buried years ago after his acceptance of never coming back.

Feeling the growing dampening of tears soaking through his raggedy clothing. He unable to make any words besides grunts of more bodies on him, a few of his sisters, one by one fought for a piece of him. Lola and Lana pushing the other as the latter gripped tighter and buried her face deeper than before, Luan pulling his free arm close to her chest, Lynn ﬁnally ﬁnding her bearings, she ignored her forceful release as she hopped to her feet and proceeded to wrap her strong arms around his neck, forced on her tip toes, chin resting on Lola's head as her body pressed against the twins.

An unreadable expression of slight fear and what looked like protective instinctual aggression took hold of the Loud brother for the slightest of seconds before he mentally smacked himself that he was in no harms way, and that he safe—they were safe...she was safe. Relaxing his grip of his daughter as she clapped her hands at the odd bunch of young women all over her father.

Rita and her husband smiled warmly at the sight before them, as well as Lori, Luna, and Lucy, though a small one but ﬁlled with as much joy she was capable of by the latter. Lily was still so confused she didn't know what to make of this. Lisa...she just couldn't accept the reality.

Sobs and words ﬁlled the living room. Lola saying how sorry she was for never treating him better, Lana telling him never to leave again, Luan just rubbed his hand, tracing over every scar and still broken skin, Leni proceeded to kiss him over and over again on the cheek, startling him slightly before he relent, while Lynn brushed her ﬁngers through his hair, feeling the grime and muck still intertwined in his locks. Even with all these weights on him he didn't show sign of strain, just lost of balance.

A certain bundle tilted her head curiously at the long golden strands of hair dangling in front of her. Lyla extended her hand and gripped her prize, yanking hard. Leni yelped a piercing pitch that the others jumped oﬀ, worried for her, but that quickly went away when the blonde ditz looked down at the little baby chewing on her soft hair. The others soon followed, Rita pushing herself forward, her husband followed as well as Lori, Luna, and Lucy. The pain was ignored. To Leni it was worth it; every detail of her cherubic face, to the brightness of her evergreen eyes, and ﬁnally roaming to the tuft of white hair that nailed the coﬃn of her parentage. Leni looked up at her baby brother who stared back with tired eyes, a simple nod he gave as she tilted her head to the side, carefully placing a trembling soft hand on the tinier one pulling on her hair. Lyla stopped, looking directly at Leni in curiosity.

Leni leaned forward, she brought her nieces hand to her lips, kissing it softly.

"Baby girl..." Her heart swelled when Lyla coiled her ﬁngers around her thumb, numbing the second eldest Loud daughter in newfound love. A wide, happy smile covered Leni's face as she sobbed. The twins stood closer, usually many would've expected them to push and ﬁght the other just for the chance to touch the child in his arms, but, in this moment, they just stood mesmerized.

That just won't do.

Lana shook her head, determined to make herself known to her niece, she'll be damned if Leni gets all the attention. The tomboy took a step forward where she reached a hand over to the year old, who in return was pulled away from Leni and to the new strange hand of her other aunt. Lana rested a digit on her stomach and proceeded to lightly tickle the infant that Lyla exploded into a ﬁt of squealing laughter. A grin grew on Lana's face that she motioned her twin over, even going as far to grab Lola's hand herself. It wasn't long that both smiled and giggled in tandem as they assaulted their niece in tickle love.

Luan pouted, huﬃng that the blondes are getting all the attention. Moving around her brother she leaned forward towards Lyla's face, doing what she knows best, and that's the dumbest silliest face she could muster. Cross eyed with puﬀ up cheeks and her tongue blowing a raspberry. Lyla froze for a second...until she laughed, smacking her hands and reaching up for Luan.

"I'm Luan." Softly stroking her little white strands. "Lu and an, can you say Luan?"

Lola was not having it, she declared war! "No, say Lola! It's way more-OFF!"

Lana pushed her aside as she brought herself closer. "Hell no! Lana! Come on say Lana. It's way more easier than those two."

"I was ﬁrst!" Leni protectively wrapped her hands around Lyla's hands. "Come on, sweetheart. Leni, like, its just Len and E."

Their parents were chuckling at the battle for love. Lori with hands on her hips, long wiped away tears with puﬀy eyes, huﬀed with a smile. "Actually, if she is going to say anything, its going to literally be me ﬁrst."

Luna scoﬀed. "Best eat your words, sis." The rocking beauty bent forward and booped the child's nose. "I saw her ﬁrst. Ain't that right, luv?"

"A name uttered by a baby is a sacred bond of love and eternal trust with the markings of a new, great begin-"

"Sweet mother of Christ!" Lana jumped as did the others, sans Lincoln and his daughter, from the sudden presence of Lucy. Linc smiled all the same, he found it funny how all eyes were oﬀ him and aimed at his seed...well not all eyes.

'Lisa...' He sighed in his head.

To rub salt deeper on her sisters, Luna puckered her lips, kissing Lyla's cute little nose. A cheshire grin exploded on her face, the others wide eyed at her sudden physical act. "Now, say Luna, luv."

Lola called blasphemy as the others rallied before her. Luna just responded with—"I kissed her she's mine." "By what right!" Luan yelled.

"The law of love."

While this was going on, on the side stood a very miﬀed Lynn Loud Jr. No way in the name of any god's mother is she going to be pushed away from this. Ready to raise hell she was stopped when Lyla saw her and cried

"Lada!"

The others turned, Lincoln was busy staring at the ceiling, roaming every inch of wall and anything that caught his interest. It was like nothing really changed. Sure, it was a mess of past events in the form of cracks and stains and the possibility of the roof falling on your head with no warning, but unlike all the other houses in his long journey, there was life, no vines or weeds or long decomposed corpses of those who placed the barrel in their mouth, having given up when hell broke loose. Not abandoned. It just feels...wrong to him. "Lada! Lada! Lada!"

Thus, the victor was crowned. Lynn smiled, racing over to her niece. 'She remembers me!' Giddy excitement coursed through her, her sisters stood slacked jaw and a little hurt.

"Dada! Dada!" Lincoln was pulled back, looking down at his heart, following her extended hand pointed at his sister. "Lada! Lada!"

"Yeah. Lada, baby girl."

Hearts dramatically shattered, the once faded Loud house exploded in noise as eight of the ten Loud sisters did whatever they could to gain the attention of their one and only niece. Lynn on the other hand was in cloud nine of happiness, yes even though Lada was in no way in hell her name she'll take what she can get. So today she is Lada...until Lyla can say her name right.

To Rita it was a sight to behold, her husband sniﬄed, failing in his attempts to stop his crying but it was too damn beautiful for him not to. They never thought they would see something like this again. Rita giggled when Leni once more began to kiss her baby boys cheek, nuzzling close against him as the other four that made up the ﬁve oldest did too. His cheeks had the faintest of pink but quickly dusted away as he hummed, relaxing himself, but still holding strong. Each kiss, be it from Lynn or Lori, felt weird to him. He hasn't felt this sensation in so long he nearly forgot what it meant have this. The one thing in life many have fought and begged for: a family...people who love each other.

Does that mean he can, aGer all this time, let him in? Can he let the human he pushed away in?

Can he sleep this time? "Linky?"

Pulled from his dark musings, he looked over and saw the worried stares of his sisters, but it was the stare of his daughter that broke him away fully.

Carefully rubbing his hand around her soft face. "Sorry, baby...daddy's just...tired." None were convinced...not even Lyla.

He gasped from the sudden warmth and gentleness on his chin. Pulled over he was face ﬁrst, though having to look down, with his mother. The very woman responsible for giving him life gazed lovingly that only a mother can produce. The surrounding girls made room for her. Carefully Rita rubbed the hairs on his chin before tracing carefully every mark of faded and still healing damage on his cheeks, lip, forehead, and neck. It was too much. The damage, the lack of life in his eyes, the baby...she just couldn't handle it any more she had to...to...

Lincoln placed a hand over hers, she gasped lightly, shaking. It was time for him to return a favor. Let her pain be his, let his shoulder be soaked in her agony. That's how it went, he gently brought her to a hug, one arm still on Lyla, while the other held her tight. She racked, she sobbed, she broke.

Stroking her aging hair Lincoln hummed a light tune for the very woman who meant everything to him, the one he cried and prayed for in nights of ﬁres and human rubble. The very woman he begged for forgiveness after his ﬁrst human life taken by his tainted hands.

"I'm not going anywhere...I'm...we're here to stay." He whispered to her ear. The Loud mother pulling apart slightly, nodding with a happy smile, kissing his cheek. She continued to look up before pulled down from the familiar tugging of her shirt. With a warm smile Rita proceeded to tickle her granddaughters chin, the baby grabbing her ﬁnger and ultimately placing the digit in her mouth. "She's beautiful. Lyla?"

"Yeah...all I could think of in the moment."

Rita smiled all the same, cooing at the baby, stroking her cheek. "It's perfect." Pecking her granddaughter's cheek. Carefully stoking her chubby cheek. "Yes, you are~"

Lincoln looked down at his seed and softly stroked her chubby cheek. "She is." He mulled over his next words. "You...uh...want to hold her? You're grandma after all."

Rita broke into a ﬁt of chuckles. God, does she feel old. She then took hold of Lyla, who began to squirm in her grip, reaching out to her aged face.

It was strange. She held so many babies-eleven in total-and yet Rita felt fear of, well, possibly dropping her. That's crazy, hell, she held the youngest of them through stampedes of feet, never dropping or losing a grip from either. But with Lyla, the slightest shifting of her arms made this old woman quiver. It was exciting, scary...it was...by God was she beautiful.

To the young father it was strange...he felt...is free the right word? Not to have the added weight and feeling of a small body pressing against him, to have both his arms free for his own use. It didn't feel right, that feeling in his gut told him to take Ly back and bolt, that instinctual feeling he fed and nurtured through ﬁght after ﬁght and mile after mile of dense forests taking back what was once theirs to the ruins and debris littered streets of the once grand continental United States.

Thinking was something he was good at. It was all he could do for six years. And he was thinking on where the hell is he to start on what happened-how did it happened-let alone on where he was.

'It's a theory. Nothing more, nothing less...' Lisa's words ﬁlled his head from that fateful day. A theory that came true.

"Hngh." Lincoln grunted from the sudden pressure placed on his right arm, ﬂicking his eyes over he was met with a mop of black hair and pale skin of someone he held truly dear to him. His gaze soGened, the teen smiled, leaning down so his chin could rest on top of her head, she hugged him tighter, body jumping from the slight hiccups that made so little noise. His princess of midnight.

How could he forget her? Never. The one he has watched and been with as she grew from the baby he fell in love with and swore to protect. Never faltering as others did from her strange appearance and actions when she was brought home so many years ago. Something he saw that only highlighted her beauty. His lips quivered slightly from the thought he missed out on so much; his little dark queen blossoming into this well deﬁning young woman.

He wrapped an arm around her, pulling the teenager closer, she in return refused to look at him as she buried her face deeper on his being.

He was used to it by now...the pain.

Her body shook, silent sniﬄes muﬄed, but he heard them clearly.

What could he do? What could he say? How does one ﬁx six years? Where do you start?

Questions without clear answers...but he never one to take the easy road. In this moment, it was just them, no one else.

He leaned forward, resting his chin on her head, soGly stroking her back, she ﬂinched from his touch, Lucy's legs falling weaker by the second.

"I'm not leaving." She wept harder, arms wrapped around his back tighter, pulling on his jacket. "I love you."

Her voice was soft. "I...love you too." He knew she needed him...they all did.

"The hell you are." A stern voice yet soft voice said. Turning his head he was suddenly wrapped by the arms of his eldest sister, tensing slightly but quickly relaxing when Lori kissed his cheek once again. He felt a wetness on his skin, knowing it wasn't from her mouth as he saw her eyes were still leaking in tears. Her soft hand caressing his hair like she done so when he was a toddler.

"I'm home," he said quietly.

Lori's voice cracked. "Your home."

Still there were more love to give. Lincoln perked up at the approaching sight of his father, feeling his sisters release him, though Lucy was pulled away with some force by Lori. Little goth had the grip of a cat on its favourite scratching post. The girls watched the only males in this estrogen house,

Lyla pulling her grandmothers hair, Lisa trying to diﬀerentiate reality and imaginary hallucination, and Lily still on the second step-uncomfortable.

To Lynn Sr's shame he couldn't look his only boy in the eyes. Every time he tried to meet those blues head on he felt more shame, lowering his long balding head like a beaten mutt.

He was a sensitive man, that Lincoln knows best. Studying the very person for his existence the young father took it gently, he took it to heart that more locked emotions thawed. His throat hurt, swallowing became a chore. There were times Lincoln wanted...well more from his old man. More on him being a man and teaching him what he needed, being there in general. What sucks more is that he learned more from his own grandfather than the only other man in his life. He loved him dearly don't get him wrong, but at times he wondered if he was born a girl than maybe they would've been closer.

He needed him.

Lynn saw the way his son's hands clenched into ﬁsts, how they shook.

Fighting the wince, he sucked in his fear and looked up, resolve on his face. Whatever his boy is going to dish on him so be it. He deserved it.

But what he didn't expect was the streaming tear falling from his son's face, nor the hug that engulfed him so fast he had no time to gasp. Standing inside the hardening grip of his boy, Lynn tried to make words, but Lincoln beat him to it.

"I missed you." It was a hoarse whisper, broken and full of need. Tears welled on the older Loud man, leaning his head back as he stared at the ceiling, teeth clenched, he broke. All the pent up love and need swam over the two, son hugging father and father weeping on his son's shoulder.

It was a beautiful sight, the girls surrounding their mother and new addition in her arms smiled, Lucy more like an upward curved line, but still a smile.

Rita then headed to him, handing Lyla to his arms.

"Why hello..." He said as he held his new granddaughter to his face.

Lyla said nothing, but she did grab a hold of his large honker and began to suck on it, making him laugh as he handed her back to Rita.

Until Leni realized something. Looking up the blonde beauty called out to Lily, startling the little girl from her stupor. But she was too slow for Leni as she went over and grabbed her baby sisters' hand, pulling her towards the others. "Wait! Leni let go!" Fear ﬂooded Lily when she was let go, but found herself standing in front of the strange man who is supposedly her brother.

She just couldn't believe it. Even with the ring around of sobbing and emotional pain she...couldn't trust it. But what was this feeling? Her chest pounded, she thought it was from fear but it felt more inclined to...need.

"Christ," Lincoln said with a hint of disbelief. A dry taste ﬁlled his mouth as the familiar knot took hold of his chest and up his throat. Staring down at the little girl before him. All he saw a precious little one that shared his blood. Beautiful, cute—he missed out.

It was like he looking at a stranger. The feeling of mutual.

Lily shuﬄed her feet, ﬁnding anything that wasn't his face interesting. It was really his eyes she was trying not to make contact with as they freaked her out some. Made her want to hide even.

Lincoln was in a messy state of his own. He done things: killed, tortured, stole, burned—a lot of things. Death and pain on others no longer fazed him like it should for a normal person. But by the mere sight of this little girl he was...well scared...he thinks. He had no real clue on what to do. The others saw his distress, as well as Lily who was carefully slipping away closer to the stairs.

Rita and Lynn gave the other a worried look as well as the older and younger sisters. Well, all but Leni who was confused on why Lily is looking at him like that. She should be happy to see her big brother, let alone meet him after so long, so why? The ditz was determined.

"Lily it's Linky."

Lori placed a hand on her sisters shoulder. "Leni...she doesn't-"

Lincoln interrupted her. "You don't remember me...do you?" He swallowed, looking up at the ceiling, nodding his head as he wiped a hand across his face, pacing back and forth for a second before he smiled lightly. It was a smile of sorrow and acceptance. "Can't blame you. I mean you were still in diapers, heh' could barely say anything either than poo-po…" Lincoln stopped himself, running his ﬁngers through his hair as he knelt down to her level. Lily ﬂinched back slightly. "Fuck," He breathed. Ignoring the surprised looks that he of all people would drop the F-Bomb.

Together, both middle child and baby sister, stared at the other. Lily feeling that strange sensation grow stronger in warmth in her chest, ﬂuttering her heart. She watched as he tried to make words, failing. His hand dropped to his side, face twitching, she saw pain in his eyes as water welled, his Adams apple bobbing. He hated it: crying. It does nothing but make you a target.

Weak prey for the bandits and others wandering through the wilds. She deserves better. They all do. He bowed his head, but his self loathing was interrupted by a small hand, soft and ﬂawless, pressed against cheek. He stiﬀened, but relaxed at the warmth spreading through him. Lifting his head, he was met with the curiosity of his baby sister. Lily leaned forward, her fear slipping and draining away. The sudden need to feel him, to know he was here and to satisfy that nagging feeling.

The one person in her young life she wanted to know.

She tilted her head, raising her other hand, ﬁngers shaky, hovering as fear crept back. "Li-Lincoln?"

His face lost all emotion as a blank canvas took over his features. His eyes staring owlishly at her, mouth closed.

Lily's hand in the air slowly fell back in the attempt to retreat, but he was faster. Carefully he moved his own hand and caught hers in his grip. Her heart beated faster. He rubbed her knuckles and brought her hand over to him. She saw the look of asking in his eyes, she smiled warmly and nodded. He kissed her hand and brought it to his cheek where she felt his face.

"Hey, Lil'bug." Tears fell from her eyes as he sucked his up, though the water was still there.

"Big brother." She let go of his cheeks and wrapped her arms around his neck, pushing herself against him in a hug which he returned.

"Baby sister." He kissed the top of her head.

The beautiful sight was met with loving smiles, Lucy's version of loving in her case. Lynn Sr sniﬀed, rubbing his eyes. Rita leaned forward and pecked her husband on his cheek before she cooed at the bundle in her arms. Lyla squirmed and made gibberish all the while giggling at the many diﬀerent people surrounding her.

The hug had to end. Lily looked at the direction her brother stared at, from the far corner of the living room stood the broken scientist. The afternoon turned dimmed from the time passing and still she was in her pajamas from this morning...and the day before that...and before that. At least she brushes her teeth, so that's something out of nothing. Despite her messy look and sagging dark bags beneath her eyes, covered by her glasses, she was, to Lincoln, beautiful. His little baby sister, the very one he will never fault for this mess. How can he? They had no idea. The demonstration was supposed to take him at least what...fourteen maybe sixteen feet? He

doesn't remember. But it was supposed to take him to the far corner of the stage. Instead, it took him to an alternate dimension.

So he guess that .00000000-it just keeps on going-one percent theory or whatever was in fact true.

Like a zoo display he was watched, so was the genius, by their family. Lyla too liGed herself up, thumb in mouth, watched with curiosity as her daddy stalked forward towards the shivering girl in green and glasses.

His face displayed the same passive look but emotion raged like a ﬁre fed gasoline within his eyes, as Lisa's were wide and wrapped in panic and denial. The ten-year-old walked back from every step he took closer, her bare feet stumbling when she took a wrong footing and she fell on her rump. Worriment ﬁlled the other Louds, but they controlled themselves, well Leni was held back by Luna.

They couldn't mess with this.

Lisa scampered back like a beaten and frightened child when dad comes home, drunk and angry. Her back kissed wall and yet she continued to push back, nails raking against carpet, back of head hitting the wall, her legs huddled and pulled against her as she breathed erratically.

"St-stay away!" The family recoiled, never have they in their lives heard her scream that loud. She was loud in everyway, but she let her experiments do the loud for her, but that time passed and soon faded. Lincoln did not falter. He looked down at her, she whimpering and holding her head down.

The teen bent down and reached a hand for her. "YOU'RE NOT REAL!" He stopped.

Whimpers turned into sniﬄes.

"You're not here...he's not here." Sniﬄes turned into sobs.

"He's not here...he's dead...he's always been dead."

Lincoln closed his eyes. He knew very well something like this would've taken over her. He loved her and she loved him like a sister should, her pain fucked him up when was a kid. Now that familiar sensation, the one about being an older brother, he embraced it. He missed it. Now by watching her- like this-to the point she can't make sense of what's real and not...it fucked him up. He is and will be fucked up, so what's one more 'eh.

He bowed his head, licking his upper lip with a nod. Taking a breath and releasing, the young man removed and held the beacon between his ﬁngers. Lisa jumped from the clinging of metal.

"I think I am," He said, rubbing a hand across his chin. "Sometimes...just that feeling." He broke into a ﬁt of chuckles. "You know like...dead and...fuck," He stopped, throat hurting again. The beacon swinging and chiming. Lisa stopped her crying, listening to the deadman in her head, his voice so diﬀerent yet so familiar.

"I can't...I can't," His voice broke, she can hear the pain as he tried to make sense. "I don't know how to ﬁx this. I don't know what to do. I can't change anything." Tears trailed his cheeks, running down his scars. Lisa's heart felt like it was being stabbed over and over from every word he said.

He wiped his eyes and cleared his throat. Pulling the beacon back he closed his palm against the orb, giving it a good few shakes. He brought that hand forward and opened.

"I love you," He whispered to her and her alone.

Silence. Pure silence besides the gibberish of the baby ﬁlled the house.

Finally, what seemed like eternity, Lisa looked up. Her eyes focused on the young man before her and ﬂickering down to the beacon. With a tentative hand she reached for her ﬁnal gift, but as she went for metal she instead touched skin. Her entire being froze. Just a mere touch and she felt warmth...the warmth from actual skin...the kind from a living and breathing person. But allusions don't work like that.

Her eyes widened. A ﬁnger became two and two became three and three a hand and one hand became both. With both, her smaller limbs she held his bigger one. Their warmth intermingling with the other. He smiled at her, using his free hand to cup her chin and have her look up at him. "Look at how beautiful you grown."

A tear went down his hand.

Lisa reached for his cheek. "You're real," She whispered.

He kissed her forehead. She buried her head against his chest, her tears and snot mixing with the others from earlier. Not that he or she minded. Stroking her head, soothing the girl as he stood up she went with him.

Dangling, Lisa refused to let go, just gripping him harder. The chain wrapped around her hand and swaying left to right and vice versa.

When he was turned, he saw the smiling faces of his entire family. Though focused mainly out of instinct on his daughter ﬁrst. Walking towards them he was met the very number one question he was dreading and trying to ﬁgure out how to word it from Luan.

"Where...where were you?" The comedian gained nods and looks at the male. Others voiced their own questions.

"Who's Lyla's mom?" Lana asked, eyeing her niece.

"Why are you dressed like that?" Lola asked, looking him up and down. "And what's that red stuﬀ all over your shirt and arm?"

He was swamped by question by question.

Leni timidly asked him-" A-and th-the scars on your...face."

"..." Lincoln pressed his tongue against his cheek inside, soon biting and chewing on the skin of his mouth. He felt a hand pat his face. Looking down he was met with Lisa starring up at him, still wrapping his arms around her, he placed her down gently. She still held on to his hand, refusing to split.

He had to say something, they had the right to know and he had to tell them. Nodding his head he ﬁgured he had to start somewhere.

"How much..." He stared intently at Lyla, eyes softening before he focused again on his family. "How much do you guys know about the concept of alternate dimensions."

Lisa's mouth dropped, eyes wide and stuck on him. He awarded her with a nod. "Like I said, it worked...kinda." He rubbed his thumb on her hand.

"Alright...story time."

~oOo~

Horror.

Pure true horror ﬁlled the minds, and hearts, and very inner soul of every Loud parent and daughter who dared to stay and listen to his tale of hell and ﬁre and lost of humanity chipped away by day and week and month and year. Lincoln sat in the couch with his heart in his arms as she played and sucked on his thumb, occasionally eyeing her extended family, though mainly Leni's hair as she extended a tiny arm, wanting a good yank. Lily fast asleep in Lori's arms, her innocent mind giving up to sleep and comprehension. Fighting back and demanding to know as he said it was best she didn't know, though she was a stubborn one. Runs in the family after all.

Lincoln knew he had to start somewhere, so he told them what happened, the very day of the science presentation. All he felt and experienced when he screamed and cried for help, hands banging against the reinforced glass window. The panic and then the coiling and ﬁnally the 'ZAP' that still haunts his ears by the occasional ringing at night or any random part of the day.

Then he told them the aftermath. When and where he woke up in some ﬁeld of bushes and wild blue bonnets, the cold air and the long stretch of road littered with the corpses and acting caskets of cars.

Heh' how he screamed when he saw the still seatbelt wearing...man? Woman? He had no clue anymore. Long decomposed, skull littered in broken glass, eyeholes and agape jaw with weeds and wild plant life sticking and coiling out, how its rib cage was wrapped in vines.

It was unbelievable at ﬁrst. But his voice and eyes told a diﬀerent story. Lynn, Lori, and Luan feared the worse that he lost his mind, living in some messed up fairy tale.

That is until he began to pull out souvenirs from his backpack. One by one he pulled out photos taken by an old instant ﬁlm camera. Colored, but semi faded, stains of blood speckled some. Each one was a horrifying image of a still man and women and children and even animals, all rabid and spewing saliva, veins bulging and insanity through their eyes. Others were of that of broken towns and cities. Jaws dropped and some gagged at the sight of a pit of decomposing bodies of people...all...just people. It was so focused,

Lincoln himself, younger and what they made out was a machete in his hand, frozen and pointing at the bodies with a cold look and lips in a thin line. Some had holes, others had slashes, ropes and other objects wrapped around their bodies.

"Bandits got to 'em." He said so simply with a shrug. "Nothing to do but learn and not make the same mistake." By that Rita wanted to vomit, but all she could do was dry heave and rub her face and hold her cheeks, her husband sick to his very core from more pictures of the death.

Just kept on coming. Newspapers he collected, also dirtied and yellow, but the pictures and words visible and readable.

Lynn Sr holding the papers with a shaky hand, hand in mouth and eyes widening from the headlines of 'MARTIAL LAW' and 'BRAZIL: MASS GRAVES IN RIO' accompanied by a photo of a man in a full white suit, mask, and a long tube with the tip on ﬁre, attached on his back. A ﬂame thrower. And it was aimed at the ground where rows upon rows of green body bags mashed and tossed lazily underneath the other.

But it was the dates that nailed the coﬃn even harder. 2024 and 20...2027.

It was 2023 today...what is happening...

"Oh my god," Luna whispered when she ﬂipped open herself and was met with the picture of people being shot at. 'NEW YORK: MILITARY OPEN FIRE' this one was 2022. A year ago.

Eyes focused on Lincoln when he cleared his throat, by that time he was ready to tell them what happened to that world.

"There's not...well really much I can fully explain. Most what I can get is from that stuﬀ in your hands, stories of those who are still alive when it began. But...I got a pretty good gist of it."

So, he spun the tale of infection and the fall of that mankind.

It was night by the time he ﬁnished his little history lesson. By that every word that left his mouth sunk deeper within his family. Lily's soft snores and Lyla's noise was all that was heard.

Lola stuttered. "Six-sixty years?" Her face pale. Her brother shrugged. "Give or take."

A part of him didn't want to tell them.

Lana gulped, ﬁddling with her hands by popping them, trying to ﬁnd a distraction. "And those...those monsters—"

"Puppets," He interjected. "They call 'em Puppets."

"Puppets," Lana said, swallowing. "They're not dead? They're still...alive?"

He nodded. "From what I can get, the virus is in control. They're not zombies...they just lost their minds...just...lost."

But the other part, the biggest one, knew he had to. So he did. No bullshit. No other way to sugar coat it.

"God," Rita breathed. Her eyes wandering over her boy, her baby boy. It was too much for her to handle. Her husband stood to side, pacing, hands opening and closing, his eyes lost and mind scrambled.

LJ walked over to her brother, leaning down to stroke her nieces face. She asked—"And her mom?"

She knew the answer to that. Even Leni of all people. She just needed to hear it from him.

"..." Lincoln just stared at the ceiling, blinking. No emotion on his face.

Lynn touched his arm, he looked down at her. "What happened?" She looked down when Lyla let go of her daddy's hand, reaching and gripping Lynn's instead, which her aunt allowed.

"Lada!" The baby said.

Her father watched the exchange. Staring at his daughter, caressing her face.

"Dada! Lada! Lada!"

She had her mother's eyes.

Finally, he said something. "Dead." Like a sharp knife cutting through. What else can he say?

Lynn closed her mouth, biting her bottom lip as she rubbed her thumb on Lyla's chin. Looking back at the father and his daughter.

"H-how?" Luan asked the dreaded question.

He lifted his daughter up. "By bringing her ﬁnal gift to that world for me."

Luna gritted her teeth and looked down at the ground. "God dammit." Her shoulders shook.

"She just...lost a lot of blood. Nothing I could do."

A body suddenly fell, panic assumed as Rita rushed to her second youngest.

Lisa hyperventilating, biting out any word she can as they came out the same.

"It's my fault! It's my fault! My—" Her mother held her tight, trying to at least calm her some but the girl was wasn't budging. White creeping in her vision, her mind swarmed with curses thrown at her. All she could think of was that it was all her and just her who caused this. She put her brother through hell, she made him suﬀer in a way no sane person should. She did this.

The demons in her head was winning, like they always did. But he was here! He was here and it should be ﬁne! Who is she kidding. She knew well —more so than any of these average to even lower than average...for fucks sake even they know that's not true. A happy ending? No.

Nothing will ever be the same...and it's because of her. She began to cry, wailing apologies at her older blood brother. Begging him to forgive her.

Lincoln got oﬀ the couch, catching Lynn by surprise, swiftly he moved towards Lisa. Lily stirred in her sleep but was still out like a light. When his mother looked at her son he stopped her from saying anything, Lyla still in his arms, he shifted the baby and knelt towards his baby sister. Who in turn stared at him through bleary eyes. Snot dribbling down her nose and her whole world spinning as her head throbbed in pain.

As it was said before, Lincoln will never EVER fault her. She has nothing to be sorry for.

"I-I-I-I'm—" He placed a hand on her mouth, shushing her. Her chest heaving and tears rolling down as she continued to spazz out.

"It's not your fault," he said calmly. "It was never your fault." Her eyes

widened and she shook her head in disagreement. Gripping his hand she tried to pull him oﬀ but to no avail. "How were we—you—supposed to know? Hmm? We had no idea. You can't do this to yourself." He removed his hand, her only sounds were coughs. "I'm here, and whatever happened over there in that...place is over." He smiled and pulled her close.

"And you know what...she's here because of you." He pushed Lyla closer to her. The baby stared curiously at her auntie, bringing her arms forward.

Lisa stared at the child back, she stared longly at his seed. "And she'll live and love."

Lisa blinked. She brought a hand over to her niece, who in turn grabbed her ﬁngers and brought them to her mouth, nibbling softly on her aunties digits.

"You're here." She said.

Her brother nodded. "I'm here."

All of the family watched with teary eyes at the touchy moment. It was beautiful.

"Now...You guys need the bathroom? It's been a long day...and well...I could use the shower." Lincoln asked.

THey all chuckled at that.

~oOo~

Bathroom...

It took longer than he thought it would. Though he hasn't touched one of these in years. Standing naked in the shower with his daughter, also without any clothing, in his arms as nice hot water fell and pelted their dirty skin.

Dirt, grime, and long dried ﬂakes of skin and blood fell from the duo. He knew people back in Lyla's world would kill for this. Literally. Clean water is hard to come by, but hot water to bathe was even harder if you were going west, let alone any run of the mill settlement. He doesn't even think the military has something this good back in their walls.

He gasped and lapped the water with his tongue like a dog, just trying to get all of it. Speaking of Lyla, she squirmed and squealed and giggled at the warm sensation on her soft skin. Clapping her hands and smacking her father's face.

"Like that baby girl?" She responded by yanking his hair. "Ow...yeah...me too." He pressed his back against the shower wall, shivering slightly from the cold sensation, reeling back some. The teen gripped a shampoo bottle from his left and slid down. Bottom hitting the tub, his head leaned back and rested on the wall as he closed his eyes, turning Lyla around so she can face him, ignoring her light smacking on his chest. Legs pulled close to him as he was too tall in this position.

"Ok," He breathed. Opening his eyes, he shifted and waddled with his knees to the two faucet controls. Biting back curses as he messed up from every turn. "How do you..." Nope. "Sonava." Try again. "Broken whore." Whispering the last part for obvious reasons. "There." As it turns out it was fourth times the charm.

He moved back to the other far corner of the tub when the shower head turned oﬀ, letting his legs loose and able to relax. He chuckled from the excited splashing of Lyla, her little hands smacking the water.

"Dada!"

"Water baby girl...good water."

"Atter! Atter!"

"Close enough." He brought Lyla to his lap, bringing the shampoo bottle with him. "Alright, hold still."

She did not.

~oOo~

Coming out, he saw his mother holding one of Lily's old hand-me down onesies and a fresh diaper.

"Figured Lyla could do with a fresh set." She said.

She was right as Lyla let out a cute yawn from the confines of her towel, indicating she was feeling tired.

"Come on. Let's get you changed for bedtime." Rita spoke, as she took Lyla out of his arms to get her changed.

~oOo~

Bedroom...

It was...quite a sight when he stepped inside his old room. Before so, arguments broke out over where he and Lyla should bunk with. Course Leni was the ﬁrst to raise her hand with Lori backing her up, then Lynn and Lucy, and next Lola and Lana...you get the picture. It was enough to put a smile in his face. That noise, the noise that made him feel something at least.

Surprisingly he said otherwise. When asked why he just said he needs to be alone right now, and that Lyla was too tired right now. Closure and what not. They understood, though a few frowns here and there, his mother wrapped him a hug and kissed him and her granddaughter. She had to be pulled by his father when she refused to let go.

Leni stood and stared at him with a sad look, Lori had to pull her away when she refused to move. It made him feel a bit shitty from how she stared. But he waved it oﬀ, bringing his ﬂask up and gulping down the ﬁery liquid.

His breath reeked of alcohol.

It was like time just froze and now play was played when he sat on the bed, looking over all his belongings when he was a boy. Too tall to even lay down on his bed he was forced to sit with his back against the wall. The only sounds were the light snoring of Lyla, curled around a blanket with a fresh diaper and one of Lily's old hand-me-downs in the form of a light purple onesie, courtesy of his mother rummaging through a few things when she saw her granddaughter yawn. Pulled close to his leg, Lincoln absentmindedly stroked her side.

The moon was the only light source, but it was enough for him to see himself starring back at the mirror hanging on the desk drawer in front of him.

Taking another swig, he capped and placed his ﬂask inside his jacket.

Opened slightly and exposing some of his bare chest. When he lifted his hand mirror, Lincoln did the same, and in his hand, like real Lincoln, was the revolver.

He gazed at the weapon, the grip molding perfectly in his hand, ﬁnger brushing the trigger carefully. Every second he looked at the door and back at the gun, his mind on auto pilot, the need to protect his child and himself from the outside pounding and taking over. He shook his head, calming his beating heart.

No. No he's not there anymore...there's nothing to be afraid of...it's over...the monsters are gon-

The door creaked open.

With no thought he sprung to action. Feet hitting the ﬂoor, not enough noise to wake Lyla, he aimed his weapon, eyes narrowed. Finger on the trigger.

"Linky?"

Another chapter reuploaded.

Also, I would like to share another Loud House Idea.

It is called: Regrets. Based on the comic It's (Not} Your Fault. Regrets can stay with people for a long time and for Luna, Stella and Rusty they are no exception. Luna regrets disowning Lincoln and getting the entire family to follow over a fake photo, while demonising Sam, Stella regrets breaking up with Lincoln and standing by while all their friends throw him out of their group, making him a pariah plus going to Chandler, while Rusty regrets taking that photo that started it all. Now in their 20s, the consequences have hit them hard as they lament what they threw away over something so insignificant. Bonus with Lincoln and Sam as they lament what they lost but celebrate what they gained.