AN: I've got a new job, and from the sound of things, it's a pretty good one. But I'm drowning in anxiety as I wait for my starting date, so I needed to write out some copium. And this helped, a bit.

jgalue1: I think that's an interesting take on this sort of story. Shame that the nature of Rita's family would result in a wrench, or ten being thrown into that sort of objective.

Savegeboi zi: Sure, here you go.

JRC1700: I'll take it as a compliment that the character who only had a few lines in the entire chapter managed to make the biggest impression on you.

hughmccabe96: I'm not really a fan of the plank gang thing, personally. But I like excuses to have Sam and Lincoln do stuff together. So, we'll see about that.

Wolvenstrom: Not a bad description. Though, just saying "what if they were kryptonians" would probably be a more succinct way of saying it, since that's basically what Lori is in Archetypal.

Wolfang21: I actually didn't intend on referencing the Legion with the name, even though I am a big fan of the LOSH. I called them that because there's a bunch of them, and assigning them colors like a sentai team was much easier than coming up with individual superhero names for all of them. But Lynn Sr. is just a regular dude, because that informs the worldview that Rita holds and hopes to pass onto her daughters. Which actually comes up a bit in this chapter.

Rita Loud was cleaning.

By her count, she was now in the third iteration of her life. She'd first been a fairly normal, and above all else human girl, as far as anyone else had known, which had lasted right up until the point puberty had started kicking in. And then, after indulging in an impulsive bit of teenage anger, she'd accidentally kicked her parents' car down the street. That was the point where she'd ceased to be anything remotely close to normal, or human for that matter. Her second life had begun when she'd decided to don a homemade costume and try to use her powers to help other people, first locally, and eventually on a global scale, once people with lofty titles and even loftier goals began to take notice of her. There wasn't really a metric for it, but by and large, she generally considered that second life to have been a fairly successful one. And now, in her third life, Rita was both mother and wife to a family of thirteen, and naturally, cleaning had become a fairly major part of that life.

It didn't have to be, of course. Her mundane authority aside, the one that allowed her to simply point at any member of the family and declare that something was now their problem, she could, of course, simply use her powers to speed things up, render the house spotless in the blink of an eye. But she didn't. Aside from the potential of getting caught in the act, leading to her younger children asking very awkward questions as to why Mommy was speeding around at velocities that the human mind simply refused to acknowledge, Rita simply enjoyed the mundanity. She'd had plenty of excitement packed into her previous lives. But now, as Rita Loud, she enjoyed the simple acts of mothering her children, caring for her husband, and maintaining the welfare of her family's home.

That said, she drew the line when it came to vacuuming under the couch. She'd tried it the human way for as long as she could stand it, but going through the motions of huffing, and puffing as she slowly moved the couch inches at a time, or trying to round up enough stray Louds to "help" her push it in a more expeditious manner quickly grew to be more trouble than they were worth. Especially when she could just heft the dumb thing herself and quickly clean beneath it before anyone was the wiser.

It was during one of these times, with Rita effortlessly suspending the couch in the air with one hand while the other voraciously attacked the dust that had begun building up below, that her ears suddenly perked up. A disturbance, coming from above.

A cry. "Hel—", followed by a thunderous crash. And before she knew it, Rita was off, her chore forgotten as she sped towards the commotion, her feet lifting off the ground ever so slightly as she literally flew up the stairs. At the top, her body tilted without conscious thought, her instincts and superhuman senses directing her towards the source of the disturbance, her brain only registering that it was the family bathroom which she found herself standing before, as she planted her feet, clenched her fists...

THWACK!

And made her dramatic entry, a swing of Rita's arm sending the bathroom door flying inward as she leaped through the entryway, and immediately began scanning for danger—

—only to find herself sighing, her blood rapidly cooling as she took in the scene before her. There was a rather large hole in the wall, the one that adjoined the bathroom to one of her daughters' rooms. That explained the crash. And, as for the "victim"…

"M-MOM!" Squeaked a sopping-wet Luna, who was currently lying prone in the partially filled tub, while fully clothed. Between the hole and her state of dress, it wasn't hard to deduce that she was the intruder in the scenario.

Rita's third eldest child attempted to rise, but the slick porcelain was difficult to grip from her current position, and she soon found herself face down in the water. A second attempt was met with similar results. It wasn't until her third attempt that she, seemingly, caught onto the idea to grip the top of the tub, and it was only then that she was able to pull herself unsteadily to her feet, water dripping from her now matted shirt and skirt down to her water-logged boots. And it was only then that Rita was able to see what had lain beneath her daughter.

"I-it's not what it looks like!" Luna stammered, waving her hands emphatically. "Honest!"

Because there, still lying along the bottom of the tub, was her only son. Dazed, possibly a little contused. And, if his bare chest was any indication, extremely undressed beneath the protective layer of water that was, mercifully, serving to preserve his decency.

Rita took it all in, pinched the bridge of her nose, and sighed a second time.

"Here we go again," she muttered to herself.

It was almost comical how Luna's face had remained frozen in the same, terrified, bug-eyed expression ever since the incident in the bathroom. In the ten minutes or so that had followed, Rita had retrieved some clothes to throw onto her son and dropped him off in Lisa's room for a cursory medical examination, gently guided her rocker daughter down the stairs, sat her down on the couch, and grabbed a couple of water bottles for the two of them. When she'd returned to the living room, beverages in hand, her daughter still had not moved an inch.

Rita took her time as she walked around the couch, sat herself down, placed the water bottles on the coffee table, and made herself comfortable. Once she was ready to proceed, Rita leaned in, held her fingers up to Luna's face...and snapped them.

"I DIDN'T KILL LINCOLN!" Luna shouted, exploding into motion as her arms and legs flailed wildly. "I-I mean, I didn't mean to! I-It was an accident! I just—!"

"Luna," Said Rita, firmly gripping her daughter by the shoulders to hold her in place. "Breathe."

It might have been the motherly authority in her voice, or it might have been that Luna was in an especially suggestible state of mind at that moment, but whatever the reason, Luna sucked in a deep lungful of air, and slowly released it. She remained jittery, but no longer spastic, which seemed like an overall improvement.

"And Lincoln isn't dead," Rita added. Which should have been obvious, but from the way Luna's attention snapped to her, it seemed like something the teenager had needed to hear. "He's with Lisa. If you listen, you'll hear his heartbeat."

Obediently, Luna cocked one ear, her eyes narrowing as she focused. A moment later, she sighed, relieved, and sunk into the couch cushions. Rita opened one of the water bottles, placed it in Luna's hand, and watched, slightly bemused as her daughter immediately began guzzling the life-granting liquid. A few moments later, the bottle was nearly empty, but Luna's formerly dull eyes now sparkled with cognizance. And, just a little fear.

She'd take it. Lori had been in shock, and Leni had been inconsolable when she'd tried giving them this talk. Scared, but alert seemed like a step up, comparatively.

"Maybe you should tell me what happened," Rita said, prompting Luna with a gentle pat on the shoulder. "I think I was able to suss out most of it from context clues, but your...younger sisters are going to have questions, and it'd help me spin things if I knew what really happened."

"...I was just...in my room," Luna replied, sounding slightly sullen. "Just...messing around on my guitar a bit. Got that talent show coming up at school, and me and the Goats still don't know what we're playing."

She took a sip of water before continuing. "Linc...s-slipped, I think. In the tub. I heard him crying out, so I—"

"How'd you know he was in the tub?" Rita interjected, conversationally.

"I...huh?" Luna froze, her arms crossed in front of her face, presumably in the middle of pantomiming the wall-busting maneuver she'd performed (not bad, though her form could be a little better), and looked at Rita, blinking in confusion.

"You had seconds, at most to react," Rita clarified. "I heard the way it played out, even if I didn't see what happened. Your reaction time was fantastic. But...it doesn't seem likely that you'd have been able to get to him as quickly as you did if you'd needed to scan for the victim. So, I'm just wondering, how did you know your brother was in the tub?"

Mother and daughter stared at each other, the moments stretching into seconds until finally Luna averted her eyes.

"I saw him walk in," She said, hoarsely, as she downed the last of her water, and Rita found herself stifling a snort. She was handling this better than Lori had, at least. Her eldest daughter had been reduced to a blubbering wreck by this point. Leni had been...strangely stoic on that front, but then again she'd needed to be walk through the chain of events that had occurred. And then needed a short lecture on how cause and effect worked. And then needed a refresher on the difference between x-ray vision, and regular vision. But after all that, she'd freely copped to what had happened, in that strange, distinctly Leni way of her's.

"Oh, totes," She'd said, nodding affirmatively. "I always use the looxy-looxs on Linky. That way, I always know where he is."

And there was something strangely admirable about that forthrightness.

Realizing that Luna had remained silent throughout her reminiscing, Rita slid a little closer and pulled her daughter into what was supposed to be a comforting hug. Apparently, she didn't see it that way, because her immediate reaction was to try and squirm free. But Rita'd had plenty of experience with restraining her daughters by this point, even the superhuman ones, so it was child's play to maintain her grip until Luna had ceased her thrashing, and settled into the hug.

"I know you teenagers usually don't consider your parents to be all that open-minded," Rita began, giving Luna an affectionate pat. "But remember, I'm not exactly your average mom. And my experiences have been...pretty different, to put it lightly."

"Y...yeah?" Luna asked, cautiously.

"Oh, sure. On my…" Rita stopped herself, and glanced around, casting her senses about to make sure she was alone with her daughter.

"Where...I'm from," She began again, more cautiously this time. "Humans wouldn't be considered to be...well, people, basically. Me marrying your dad wouldn't be seen all that different from if I'd married a...a dog, or a houseplant or something."

"I don't…I mean—"

"I'm just saying," Rita continued, tousling her daughter's hair, "That normalcy is a matter of perspective. If you L...feel, a certain way about someone…"

Rita cast a meaningful glance upstairs.

"Then I support that. I just need you to be careful. Because humans...and people who are basically human, as far as we know, are fragile, and bad things can happen to them if you aren't careful."

"I-I'm dating Sam," Luna muttered quickly as she averted her eyes. Too quickly, even without the abundance of microexpressions that were plainly visible to Rita's eyes.

"And that's fine," Rita replied, trying to sound supportive. "I know you kids are all into that stuff about having two hands and whatnot. And trust me, your mom's no stranger to that kind of thing. Heck, you're lucky, because people weren't as accepting of that kind of lifestyle back in my day."

"W-WHAT!?" Luna sputtered, her eyes wide as saucers.

"But this applies to her too," Rita continued, deftly plucking the now empty water bottle from her daughter's hands. "Because if you aren't careful with the things that are important to you…

SCHHHHRIIIP!

"This is what happens," She concluded, presenting the twisted, mangled heap of plastic that had once been a water bottle to her daughter. "You get what I'm saying, sweetie?"

Luna stood completely still. Had Rita not known better, she would have assumed that a Venusian Space Basilisk had gotten into the house. But giving her daughter a quick once over had revealed that the teenager's eyes had simply rolled up into her head.

"Ooookay then," Rita muttered to herself as she climbed to her feet. "That's three-zero now. Maybe I'll have better luck when it's Luan's turn."

She tucked the frozen teen under her arm and began making her way to the staircase.

"It was...a good talk," She said, fully aware that she was speaking to herself as much as she was her daughter. "But, I get that it's a lot to take in all at once. So, let's just head upstairs, and we'll pick things up another day. And...hopefully…"

She paused to shake her head, before resuming her trip upstairs.

"Hopefully you're still aware enough that I can teach you a bit about wall repair. Because trust me," Rita chuckled to herself. "That's going to be a really helpful skill to have."