Sins In Twisters

by Blonkess

When Lincoln was destined to never have success like his family, after surviving the Royal Woods' Tornado, his future takes him on the path of becoming a renowned storm chaser. But as years pass since that day, his family tries to hold together after freak disasters put a halt to the sisters' lives when Lisa discovers a past family secret that tells Lincoln's time is running out.

13. Followed The Heart, Led By Reason

Sins In Twisters

Chapter 13: Followed The Heart, Led By Reason

---

Earlier…

The journey out from Great Lake had been a quiet one for Lincoln.

Any sound he did register, whether it be from the truck or cars around him on the highway, was barely noticed. Not even the radio was switched on, with only the time displaying it in green; that was one of the few sources of light in the cab. He could hear the whistling sound of the wind on the edges of the doors as he drove at a steady 50, the fog being still so thick that he had opted to switch on some of the extra fog and some of the warning lights to see and alert people that there was a large vehicle in motion.

Really, Lincoln wished some poor, tired driver would wander into his lane, making him blast the horn and give him some kind of distraction. On the way here, he had his mission, making him act on autopilot for the twelve hours it took to get to Bobby's apartment, but at least then he had the radio playing some rock music to help keep his mind from becoming slurred from the drive.

Not this time. Even when he popped the radio on to any channel he could find playing good music or even the news, it was either still too early or the selection was annoying to the ears, and he'd turn it off.

He wanted to grab his hair and scream. Run somewhere, floor it to 90, and see how fast it takes to pop the run-flats. Bang his head against the wheel or window. Anything so that he wasn't just staring at the endless lines of roads that were still ahead of him. He was used to the long drive, long ago and recently it really didn't bother him. It was peaceful. Even when the world was gray, it gave you the feeling that every mile you gained was another mile closer to a new adventure.

But when the road was just as foggy as the highway ahead of him, with barely seeing some taillights from cars further ahead or the low beams in the mirrors, it was like he was in the kind of dream where no matter how fast you ran from danger it was like you were barely moving at all.

If he had it within him, he'd pull over, crawl in the back, and go to sleep. Just sleep. Lay there with his head on the back of the seats folded down and stared up through the hatch until he felt his body switch off. If he was cold, hot, or felt it was an awkward position, he wouldn't care.

Just let him close his eyes and think of peace…

But he couldn't do that. He couldn't feel it within him, nor did he want it now despite feeling otherwise. He had promised himself days ago that this had to be done. He was the man with a plan, after all, but every famous tactician or strategist or war general would tell you; that plans never survive first contact. Though with his plan now going into what was essentially phase three, he had to admit it was working out so far. But how that played out in the long term he had no idea.

He seriously doubted it wouldn't be long till Clyde or any of his team figured out he was gone and the tank was missing. He could take a rough guess of what he would say regarding his plans for later in the day. But he knew his best friend would have to understand his reasoning. Nature wasn't going to wait for him to heal, and he wasn't going to sit by and watch opportunity after opportunity to start fixing things.

How Bobby would play into later, he had no idea but hoped for the best. He understood it wasn't easy this past year and he felt it more than ever when Ronnie went back to live with him. Lincoln knew that with how much she had, she could afford her own car and maybe her own apartment, but he knew her well enough that being half-blind wouldn't stop her. She was practically becoming a mother in her own right with how Bobby described her caring for his daughter while he worked below.

Was it scummy to give him a car and some cash and drive away like that would solve the problem? To most minds, yes. But in this world, he had understood that it would be part of the process for them to grow into a brighter future. How they did it was no longer his concern.

What was now his biggest concern was when getting off the highway and traveling down the winding eastbound road, he saw a sign to his left slowly come into view. Even if he was going a bit above the speed limit in the fog, the tank's rear wheels screamed out as they left a 15-foot-long skidmark in the road. Jerking to a sudden stop, it quickly started rolling backward, reversing back enough to where the headlights illuminated the sign for him to see clearly.

'Welcome to Royal Woods'

It was eighteen years since he vaguely remembered seeing that sign before. In all of that time, the countless trips out of town to places beyond usually had him seeing that sign once again as he and his family came home. It had the same style, the same colors, looked almost brand new. Five years ago, he didn't even think that it would be that long till he saw it again.

The place where so many adventures in just his childhood had happened. Where he was born, where he went to school, became a big brother to five sisters, met his friends, and started to give rise to what he dreamed of in the future.

Here was that future where all the good and the bad had taken place, all leading to this moment.

Sinking into the backrest, he turned his focus back to the road ahead of him. He would be in his hometown a little over a mile down this road. The place where he had promised years ago he wouldn't come back until he felt ready. The place where all of his family, his mother, father, and all ten of his beloved sisters still resided in that house on Franklin Avenue. He remembered what Bobby had said to him just hours ago. But he had a plan; he couldn't afford any distractions to it or cause his family chaos again.

Switching off every light to where it was just his low beams and cab lights around the sides, Lincoln locked his hands onto the wheel and took in several deep breaths to calm his nerves. He felt like he was about to drive into Kingman again, only this time it wasn't wind that would be his concern today.

Slowly heading back down the road, the fog made it nearly impossible to tell how close he was until he entered the outskirts of town. He was thankful that the fog was still very dense that even as daylight slowly bled through more and more as the day rolled on, anyone out and about right now wouldn't be able to really get a full view of Shrieker. At best, with the way the front and part of the back looked, they'll think it's just some modified Ford truck.

He glanced down at his dashboard: 7:51

That was good; it meant most people were either in school or at work by now. Most of the streets were devoid of the hustle of people trying to get to their jobs or shipping their kids to school. It meant he could be a bit more discreet when passing through-

A loud truck horn like it belonged on a train or semi suddenly blasted from his left side as he pulled through the intersection.

"Jesus!" he jerked the wheel hard right to try and swerve away from the sudden wall of headlights that was now shining into his face.

Slamming on the brakes, Shrieker again came to an abrupt halt in the middle of an intersection with what looked like a tanker truck, the kind where it was a normal utility truck with a giant tank unit replacing the bed, was now just as far into the intersection as he was. Now, it also turned just enough to where its front bumper was just inches away from touching the outriggers.

Feeling like he just got whiplash despite no impact, Lincoln felt himself trying to suppress his hyperventilation when giving the steering wheel a death grip. He looked around, trying to see what had hit them, trying to see if the vortex was still closing in, see if Ronnie was still okay, and-

"HEY! WATCH IT YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE!" He heard a voice yell outside as the driver of the other vehicle was the first to take action. Flinging his door open and slamming it closed, "What the fuck you trying to do?! Kill someone?!"

Glancing up, Lincoln could clearly see that he had the green light to travel through. He had just pulled into the intersection while that truck didn't at all try to slow down when the lights changed. Had he not stopped and slammed right into Shrieker, Lincoln was pretty sure not much would happen minus the paint scratching. He's had this thing tested to make sure it could tank more than just what tornadoes could throw at it.

And like taking a superheated red hot piece of steel into a pot of water, Lincoln felt his nerves go from somewhat relaxed to utterly boiling in a second. Ripping his seatbelt off and yanking the lock with a bit more force than needed, he shoved the door away and stepped out onto the edge. He was easily towering over the other man with the tank. Dressed in grim-covered coveralls, a strip with 'McCann Services' stained green, rolling his sleeves up like he was about ready to fight the main went around the backside of his truck till he was on the passenger side closest to him.

"Buddy. You got a goddamn red light!" Lincoln shouted as he pointed over his shoulder to the traffic lights still showing red. "And I sure as hell got more than just a dashcam to prove I had the right of way."

"Like hell you did! The light was still yellow, and you went flying through, you blind idiot!" The man seethed.

Lincoln ripped his hat off in a haze of adrenaline and tossed it on his seat. "Buddy," He gritted his teeth as he jumped down from the ledge, coming a mere two feet away from the man, "We can ask each and every one of those cameras and see who the blind idiot is."

Even then, he still had a height advantage; a few inches didn't help much. Neither man could gauge the other without thinking they were really old or what he could see with the sleeves rolled up was a lack of muscle. He hadn't gotten in a fight for years, not one on the verge of fists flying right off the mark. It was warranted in some moments, but that was from a gradual build-up. He couldn't think straight except to see if this guy had the balls to back up his body language.

Lincoln could see red ready to form in his eyes, but the look in the man's eyes quickly turned white as his stare downshifted from rage to confusion and then surprised.

"Lincoln...?" He asked, lowering his arms in a voice like he couldn't believe what he was seeing. Stepping closer to see if it wasn't the fog was playing tricks on him.

That voice… Lincoln felt a surge of old memories from years ago that he never had the idea that he would one day run into this person of all people. He looked at the logo tag again, then at his eyes, his face; he knew exactly who this was. It was the last year of middle school, and he remembered his last encounter. One in he felt a surge of ghost pain consume his right hand like he had just dunked it in freezing water. That day was the day they finally buried the hatchet. Making sure that they both focused on their lives and that should the other try and tread onto the other's, there would be consequences.

He never dreamed that the moment they would meet again would be ten seconds away from smashing each other's faces into the ground.

"Just… pay attention next time," Lincoln said quickly. Stepping back to avoid the man stepping any closer as he got around and climbed back into his truck, "And get that headlight fixed!" he pointed to the front of the tank truck as he quickly put back on his hat and buckled back in. The tank launched forward out of the intersection and back down the street, disappearing into the fog before the traffic lights switched out.

Watching the best he could, Chandler McCann stood in the middle of the intersection, dumbfounded at what just happened.

---

In the Loud House, Monday morning had been a rather unusual time compared to those from before.

It felt like something was different.

It was hard to know exactly what to make of it. Ask anyone, and they would shrug and say that it felt like the kind of day that was going to be another long drag till they could find something to pass the time or that they were expecting something big that would become one of the biggest things to happen this year. However, that was a bit of a tall order to try and accomplish.

But Lucy felt it. She felt it all around them, just like how the fog that had surrounded their minds for years had now manifested into reality. She was the first to awaken to notice the feeling in the air, and when she went to awaken Lisa, she found that he little sister hadn't slept at all that night before. The look in her eyes spoke of a battered soul having finally achieved the end of a long journey, and since she was able to heal them, Lucy hadn't seen this kind of relief on the scientist in a very long time.

At 5:24 a.m., with just her computer giving them the only light in the room so as to not wake Lily, as soon as she entered, Lisa turned to her.

"I Found Him."

It really was like the bells of hell had suddenly been silenced. Like the world hadn't come to a sudden or gradual end but just stopped as one. Lucy didn't know how to react, too frozen to express anything more than a dropped jaw. She asked if Lisa was certain that this was it. That the search of five long years had finally been accomplished. Too many times did they have false hope. Too many times did they think they had it locked down only for it to prove a lie. The hopes that the show would reveal the answer had been dashed, but it gave them enough hope that it was just one step closer to teasing them the truth.

No words were exchanged when Lisa pulled up a satellite view of the farmhouse—taken earlier this year, around late April, when most of the earth's green was in full color. It showed the long gravel driveway curving up to the house. A giant mound of dirt that someone could have imagined was an out-of-place hill had it not had a radar truck sticking out halfway with a dozen vehicles surrounding the backyard. And right there, zooming in at the resolution that the image could achieve, sat the metal rock of a tank in the middle of the backyard like it was under maintenance.

And right between it and the house, a white-haired man wearing orange stood with several others. Everything matched exactly to what they knew and what Lisa showed, with still images taken from the show of how the landscape and buildings all matched down to every single bush and fence post.

It was him.

It was Lincoln.

Even if you tried telling her that could have been some old man on his farm tending to his rather odd farm equipment, she knew you were trying to deny it. The second it finally clicked in her mind was followed by the next where she pulled her sister into her arms and wept. She could feel her tears soaking Lisa's lab coat, but she could feel her, too, letting tears soak into her nightgown. They tried to keep their cries muffled, trying not suddenly to wake up the whole house.

Oh, how she wanted to scream it out. Make everyone look at her like she had lost it; she wouldn't care. The fact that they finally knew where their brother had been all this time felt like a massive weight had been lifted off their shoulders after over five years. When they finally separated, she had to ask how Lisa could find the house.

The 12-year-old explained that one thing hadn't come to mind until recently: microwave radiation. Saying that in a specific form, it's used by weather radar to be used to detect anything to be sent back to its computer. The show had revealed that numerous times for the beginning of the year, and even until recently, there had been 'blimps' of radiation popping up in the western half of Oklahoma City, away from where most signals come from. Lincoln had described upgrading the truck to have a unique signature, and she zeroed in on just that.

There was much more science jumbo she heard Lisa speak but didn't register. All she could do was look up at one of the images Lisa had on the side that showed Lincoln years ago and one she had shown them months before. He looked so much like his old self while growing into the adult he'd become now with his metal monster still unfinished around him.

Had she been there at the time as old as she was now, oh, the possibilities….

She asked if Lisa was going to tell them. Lisa explained she wanted to do it after everyone had returned home from work and school and had some time to detox and get comfortable before she dropped that bombshell. At least they wouldn't be able to get through the day without being so heavily distracted properly. With but a few hours until everyone was to awaken and the two of them not needing to be up as early as others, Lisa retired to her bed wishing to get some rest for a few hours, but Lucy could clearly see she was not able to resist smiling as she passed out before her head hit the pillow.

With Lisa's lights out, Lucy, too, made her way back into her room as quiet as a ghost. No matter what squeaky board she stepped on or the low creak the door made when she closed it, it was like she was lighter than air that no one could hear. When she returned to her bed, bringing the covers up to her chest, she felt her mind tell her to adjust where she lay.

And she did, moving her back a bit closer to the wall as if to give space for someone else to rest beside her. She placed a hand on the edge of the warm spot that was still there. At any moment, they would be back and join her again to allow sleep to whisk them away from reality together. She could see it so clearly it felt like he really was there. His blue eyes glowed in the darkness like stars into her as he leaned over the pillow and rested his forehead against hers as he pulled her into his arms.

Though the time till morning was short, Lucy returned to the dream world with peace in mind for the first time in a long time. The hope inside her growing that soon everything will be alright again…

Fast forward to now, and that earlier excitement had diminished.

Just as she had gotten up to be among the last of the line for the bathroom and during breakfast, she could feel that something was off.

Something was very off.

And it made her skin crawl. Looking down at her wrists, one wouldn't imagine that a year ago, that was all she had at the end of her arms. Each time that chill ran through her, it always felt like it was the otherside trying to warn her. Warn her of what? Several times, the curse had already plagued their family, and her sisters had suffered. Some of them spoke about hopefully and finally getting their lives on track after Christmas, but at the table, Lucy felt there was more yet to be seen.

It seemed Lisa shared her thoughts. One trade of looks spoke the story. They both looked to the one Loud among them, who had yet to feel the effects of the torture the curse could bring. They both feared what the nightmares that kept getting longer and more detailed could mean. Lisa said she would take a look through the school security and monitor the area. Her sister might be young, but in this day and age, having a phone on hand was a lifeline to anyone on one end of the line or the other.

As the hour rolled through, she found herself sitting in the living room at the end of the couch with her poem book in hand. A dark, foggy day like today would often be the perfect inspiration for her to spend hours coming up with ideas. Her mother thought the same as she sat in her chair beside her with the corner lamp providing the only light on the floor, minus whatever light from the kitchen reached them.

Rita was sipping at her coffee as she typed away on her laptop. Possibly working on this week's articles or more of her novels. It was one of the few things the two of them shared a common bond over the past few years. Back then, their taste in literature was one that would heavily clash; having another writer right there in the house with you who either didn't have much in terms of an outside life or was out of the house much worked out in the long run.

Her mother called it the Quiet Victory. There was no grand party, no mighty dinner or celebration. While they told others of what had been accomplished, there was joy and praise, but it was missing the critical element needed to make it feel like a victory.

Last night, she had enough imagination that she could have written an entire dark romance novel in one sitting and have the third draft by the end of the afternoon. Now, she had barely put her pencil to the paper with nothing coming to her mind.

So much was promised, yet so much remained hidden…

"You alright there, Lucy?" her mother asked, looking away from her work. It wasn't unusual to see Lucy sit there like a stone, but call it a mother's intuition when she felt something was off with her children.

Lucy turned her head just an inch in her direction, "I'm fine, mother." she said, "I'm going to go… get a drink."

She set her book on the coffee table and stood up. Slowly walking towards the kitchen like she was attempting to delay something, it didn't look like she was acting her normal self when Rita glanced at the empty book.

She heard her bedroom door open and brief mutters of morning greetings between Lisa and an awakened Lynn. Walking past the stairs, she caught a glimpse of Lynn asking her what was wrong. It seemed their mother wasn't the only one to notice today. She entered the dining room just as Lisa started on her weather explanation; she didn't care to stay and listen in.

The kitchen wasn't the same kind of mess as it was before breakfast; it still had that nice smell of home cooking. The burners were still warm, and the sink was loaded with a tower of dishes. One of them would eventually get around to them once the day was a bit further along, but for now, Lucy resided herself in approaching the empty side. An empty fruit bowl greeted her with her reflection. A small pool of water dripping from the tap was the only way the still image was broken before it settled, just enough for it to return before the next drop distributed it again.

Leaning over the edge with her hands to the sides for support. She looked down enough to let her bangs hang away from her face so that she could directly look into her brown eyes. She sighed, shaking her head at the tired look the chrome returned.

Today was going to be a long day. The kind where sitting in her dark nook with candlelight wasn't going to aid her in making it go any faster. Her mind refused to focus on anything else but what storm last night had unleashed upon her.

She kept many secrets. Either by the spirits or by what these thin walls couldn't hold, and she happened to have her ears open at the time. One's that very few knew lies of or their true colors; only those she could count on a single hand knew some of her deep secrets. Last night had only amplified her thoughts and the very idea that he had gone through so much pain for them all, not just this year but for years all the way back since he could walk and talk. So many times, they put him through the wringer just to toss him on the sidewalk to dry out. All the times he stood up for them, protected them, and gave up time of his youth for them willingly.

He described in an old interview why he liked playing with danger. Why push himself to go across the world to face things that could end him forever?

"It's a bit more predictable, watching a storm form, a feeling of a mountain shaking or the rising tide, than living in a house with ten siblings for most of your life."

Disasters were more tame to him than they were for his childhood. He was used to being on the frontline of so much chaos from them that natural chaos wasn't anything comparable. It did hurt to be called a disaster in waiting. Calling some a volcano with a hair trigger or hurricane when together.

Yet he was still there in the thick of it. He was doing everything he could to stay out of the way and help. She remembered the countless times she observed from afar in the shadows or hidden in the vents, looking for inspiration. But so many times, she wasn't there for him when he was twice as many. He was there for her in the times she questioned why she was even a part of a family so opposite to her. An oddball out of eleven that didn't have another to share an understanding with. He was there. He was still there by free will or her dragging him along.

Even in her dreams, he was by her side. Almost every day she saw him since she came home, they were inseparable. As they grew, their bond evolved. After entering her teens, her eyes were opened to the next step that she wished to take.

Had things been different, she believed they could have shared the future together. Had her family eventually gone on to lives of their own, she could envision the future where it was just the six of them in the house. But what would be different was that they would be alone together. No one would know. Had he still gone off to Oklahoma and offered her to come with, she would have sold her soul and changed her last name so they could live a life away from anyone who knew the truth.

For five years, he was able to hide. She could imagine with a little bit of luck, they could have made it go beyond 20, 40, maybe 70 if the universe felt nice enough to bless them with such time. The house was in a place where no one would bother them and they had plenty of space for their family to grow.

Would it be odd to live on a farm in the middle of a disaster-prone region? That's a question millions ask yet still do to this day. They would learn to stay alert for trouble, whether from the sky or back home. Being by his side when the thunder rolls would be all she needed…

'There was still a chance.' a voice whispered to her. It was too loud to be in her mind but so quiet it was like it was right next to her.

Looking up from the sink, for the briefest of moments, she could have sworn she saw movement outside the kitchen window. A blur of black and white that was consumed in the fog faster than her eyes could see. She tried looking for what was there but saw nothing.

Was she finally losing it? She didn't know the answer to that just yet. Many people said she lost it long ago, but sometimes the universe works in mysterious ways. Snatching a cup from the cabinet, she filled it with semi-cold water and downed the glass in one go. Refilling it for a second before heading back into the dining room.

The moment she stepped past the threshold of the doorway, she paused, and through the veil of her hair, she could clearly see the dark shape of something large out on the street. It didn't like anything that they usually saw. It wasn't a moving truck or even the garbage truck running a bit late. The fog made it appear too small to be either and the odd coloration made it look either like it blended in with its surroundings or sharply stuck out. It didn't look much like an SUV or van; part of the back looked more like a truck, except it had double sets of rear wheels.

Strange red parts on the bottom with a giant door opening the opposite way. And a turret…

And a man walking up the sidewalk towards their front door...

As fast as lightning, the cup left her hand and allowed gravity to make it become one with the floor and shatter at her feet. Both hands flew up to move her bangs to the sides, making sure she saw exactly what she thought she was seeing was truly real and she wasn't still asleep. The man removed his hat, rubbing the back of his head for a moment before placing it back over the mess of white hair as he approached.

"Lincoln…" she whispered like she had just spoken the true name of a God.

"Lucy!" Her mother called from the living room as she came to see what had disturbed the goth, "You okay, sweetie? What's wrong?"

"Lincoln…" she said a little louder, like she was struggling to get her breath. In reality, she was. Her mother could see her seventh child look like she was about to lose her balance with how much she was starting to hyperventilate.

"Lincoln? What about him?"

"He's… he's…"

"Lucy, what-"

"HE'S HERE!"

---

Moments Ago…

With the fog still so thick, Lincoln was a bit surprised to see more people out on the roads at this time than expected. Almost getting t-boned by Chandler, of all people, in the first ten minutes of being back felt like it was really setting the flavor for the rest of the day. Passing through the commercial into the residential, the number of cars present confirmed his hope that most were either in school or the city at work. He really didn't need to be swarmed by the town after nearly getting into a crash with a septic truck.

The route he had chosen was on purpose; despite burning a little bit more time, it was the route he vividly remembers his grandpa Leonard taking him to camp to get away from here just after the bad luck fiasco…

Homes that looked just like any other crawled by as he went a measly 8 miles down the street. It wasn't the fog that was stopping him from going faster; it was the fact he was looking over each house. Looking for where the subtle change occurred from just how new the buildings looked even after a decade.

He had to admit it was hard trying to find any sign of the destruction that devoured its way through his town. He thought his day was bad, when there were whole families having to start their lives all over again. He remembered hearing Rex say it was like the dilemma of someone breaking into your home trying to steal your possessions or harm your family, that if you take a shot and end them, you value material objects over someone's life. Storms are just like that, but they don't care what they take or who's in the way. They can take the tree in your yard that's been there for two hundred years or take the house and family you spent a lifetime building together.

The land will heal, the damage will be cleared, and in time, a new home will be built. If for them or for someone else. You can replace a house, but you can't replace lives...

When he came to a stop at the intersection, Lincoln felt his heart pick up in speed.

Franklin Ave greeted him in green.

Slowly easing into a right turn, his eyes struggled to focus on the road instead of the houses he was passing. But it was hard to miss his target with that one giant tree in the front yard. Pulling off to the right side of the road, minding he was physically taking up a hefty part of the street, the vehicle he had built to take him in and out of hell on earth came to a stop in front of the very house that started it all.

He placed it in park but opted not to shut off the engine. He didn't plan to be here for long. Hell, he was lucky that the upgrades weren't waking anyone up from what sounded like an idling freight train outside their house. Unbuckling from his seat and unlatching the door, feeling like he was about to open Pandora's box, he hesitated, but with some leverage with his shoulder, he pushed it open. Holding onto it to stop it from just banging off the side. Sliding down to the road, he looked up at 1216 Franklin Avenue for the first time in what felt like a lifetime.

He spent most of his lifetime here. Maybe it was that part of him that felt a little homesick after being away for longer than he ever had before. He remembered being close and that feeling being stronger whenever he'd chase a few twisters in Michigan back in 2023 but always steeled himself from just driving straight through town after a chase.

Guess nature had other plans.

With shoes that felt like they were full of lead, he crossed over to the other side. Stepping up the curb onto the sidewalk, standing side by side with the mailbox, he looked up to the surprisingly well-preserved house compared to what he last remembered. The roof looked new, a coat of fresh paint that was either recent or the fog making it look like it was cleaner than it really was. It almost looked new.

"I'm home…" he said with a sad smile, but his voice was laced with uncertainty as he slowly stepped up the sidewalk like he was walking towards his execution.

His eyes darted all over the place, trying to find a sign if anyone was home. Vanzilla was gone, with the driveway completely desolate. He saw a faint blue light coming from Lisa and Lily's bedroom, probably her computer left on, but no sign of life from Lori and Leni's room. The two first-floor windows held the same results, but a faint orange glow came out of the living room. He planned this to time with most of the younger family to be in school and the others to be mostly at work. With no cars at all, it was a rough guess of who was home.

Stepping onto the porch, feeling what felt like new boards creaking under his weight, he approached the red door that separated the two worlds. Lincoln knew that the moment anyone opened that door, there would be no going back. But a thought occurred about how he would prevent his family from blowing so many fuses at his arrival. Doorbell? No, odds are even if Lana fixed it, it would still shock him to the ground and if it was working at all. Knocking and yelling out delivery like he was the package? Yeah, he wasn't going to be that kind of ass. Just knock and wait and see if anyone answers.

He raised his hand and closed his fingers to use the back of his hand to knock. Just seven inches separated him from touching the front door. All that was left was for him to knock thrice and wait. Do it just like ripping off a bandaid. He closed his eyes, ready to feel that sting for when it came. The moment he did it, he was there till the end.

He brought his hand down, knocking once. But he didn't move to knock again. It couldn't even have been called intentional; instead of using his own power, he had just let his arm fall loosely by his side like it had lost all function and just happened to touch the door on its way down.

He couldn't do it… not yet, at least.

What would his family think of him just appearing out of the fog like this? Their son and brother looked like a druggie that had abandoned rehab halfway through and was trying to do his best to hide among the crowd. They'd think he had just gotten out of some long, torturous event and was ready to fall over if they touched him. And he wouldn't fault them at all. Hell, the last thing he directly sent them was that letter in May, and it was almost a full year since he last called his parents. They especially were essential to his plan, but he had no idea where they were or if they knew he was coming.

If any of his sisters answered the door, it would be the kind of disaster he'd rather not happen at all. They would either smother him or disown him. To get lost for leaving them like this or never let him go. One of those paths was a problem in messing with his future plans; the other was the most optimal in that it plugged up some issues that gave him time to work on fixing.

But it was one of his ultimate nightmares…

Follow the heart or follow the mind. Listening to your head, you might get the success you want but at the cost of what regret that success brings with it. Listen to the heart, and while the future could be filled with struggles they can be outweighed by the life you chose to live on your way.

So much of his life he believed in the latter that it defied him, yet he always relied on the former to balance it out. Did things end up the way he wanted them to? Could he have done so many things differently had he followed the other? Those had so many answers he didn't know where to really start. His whole plan up here started with the idea of trying to sell his personal car for a pretty penny but instead gave it to Bobby. That was him practically giving away 25k for nothing but out of the good of his heart.

What good would it do for anyone now? As far as they knew, he was alive and well in Oklahoma, getting ready for next season. He heard through his network that some of his friends still in town keeping tabs on his family had all said they were doing pretty great for themselves after what happened. Who was he to suddenly step back into their lives like this?

They desired better. And he hoped to give that to them one day soon.

Stepping away from the door, he turned his back to the house as he went back down the steps-

*bang*

He whipped around at the source of the noise coming from near the garage. Stepping just a little into the grass, he could see one of the trash cans had fallen over. It had happened right when his back was turned; the can was still rocking back and forth. How it happened, he had no idea. There was no sign of a stray animal running away from the loud sound, but there wasn't any wind either.

'Just another oddity for today…' he thought as he stepped back onto the sidewalk. Three steps in, he stopped yet again. This time it felt like he had just walked straight into instant dry concrete as he felt his brain feel like it was having the glitch of its life. He took a step back, rubbing his eyes to make sure he wasn't just seeing what he was seeing right before him…

He could see himself….

With his back to him, like he was just 11 years old, dressed in his signature at the time orange polo and skinny jeans, utterly soaked and covered in mud with bits of grass, leaves, and sticks stuck to his hair. Lincoln honestly felt like he was experiencing a case of the bad machine at the fact he was seeing himself standing just ten feet away from him, just barely blending in with the fog.

He couldn't be dreaming this. How can you dream of something from almost a decade ago, with such vivid detail of your own backside like this? Most of the time, you remember seeing what you saw or came up with what you think was there at the time. Not this. He remembered just briefly looking in the bathroom mirror before getting a hot shower what he looked like all around for a few seconds, but it just wasn't enough to remember it like this.

Lincoln-he- his younger self, walked ever so closer to the edge of the curb. Coming up to just past the mailbox, he turned his head ever so slightly upward.

Following his gaze, Lincoln could see something in the fog… something 'massive' slowly darkening in shape as it utterly towered over everything around that he could still see growing in size as it approached. He could see movement. A left and right motion with the main shape being maintained but with so many deformities forming along the edges and bottom- Lincoln felt his breath and blood run cold as he took a step back. But his body refused to move one step further.

Coming over the roof of the neighbor's house, he could see the phantom form of a thin but violent tornado right in front of him. Rapidly growing in size as it crossed the front onto the street. If this was like any other twister right where Storm Shrieker was parked, he would have taken a direct hit. The funnel was wider than he remembered, being big enough that once it crossed to the center, Shrieker was completely obscured from his view. It stopped just before the curb. So close to the boy that if it sputtered out a little suction vortex or made its debris cloud just a bit bigger, it would touch him.

He remembered this, but it was all wrong. He couldn't have remembered seeing it from this impossible point of view. The storm wasn't foggy like this, and the tornado was already there when 'he' approached it. It was at this point he remembered that if this was going to be his last moments touching the earth, why not give the people a memory of what happened and take his phone out to record it? To reach his hand out like he could touch the skin of a mystical beast.

But the boy in front of him didn't do that. He didn't get his phone or reach out. Instead, he raised both his arms out. Wide open like he was waiting to be hit. Unaffected by the wind force that was invisible to the world around them, Lincoln wanted to reach out. See if what he was happening was even happening at all and that at any moment, something bad could happen.

When he took a step back forward, his hand instinctively reaching out to grab whatever was possible like he was about to try and save his younger self from getting too close to the twister, he watched as slowly, like an angel being ascended, his kid self's feet left the ground and he-

"Lincoln!" The boy snapped his head back towards him and for a brief moment, their eyes met. But Lincoln nearly jumped at the sound of his name coming from behind him. Snapping around, he expected someone to be standing there at the front door about to rush him down, yet no one was there.

When he looked back, he was gone. There was no sign of what had just happened right before his eyes, from his kid self to the tornado. Where for a moment, he couldn't see his truck at all. It now sat there right where he had left it with the door open and a plume of exhaust coming out the back. He brought his hands up to rub his eyes. Trying to think of what in the actual hell had just happened. He could feel a cold sweat starting to form, and his breath picked up as he looked around for any sign of what could make sense of this.

But there was nothing. There was no change from anything except the slowly increasing light piercing through the fog from the morning sun slowly getting bright and bright with the fog thinning. He closed his eyes, trying, forcing his mind to do more than try to pump the brakes and focus.

"You're losing it, Loud… Don't go losing it yet…" he muttered to himself as he quickly walked back over to Shrieker. Grabbing onto the door as he spun himself into the seat, he pushed the lock forward so that it didn't completely close the door, leaving a small gap in between that would let some fresh air flow inside.

Part of him wanted to wait a second. To give his mind a moment to think about what the last couple of minutes had just done to him. But he didn't wait. He took one last look at the house. If it was going to be the last time he saw it for a very long time, he didn't know. He was burning daylight seeing things he was pretty sure were because of the pills, and he shifted that focus away back to his mission. Easing the tank back down the road, he focused on his next destination clear across town: Lynn's Table.

He hoped his father was present. At least if he drove by and it was busy, he could park somewhere hidden, walk the rest of the way, and possibly call him to meet outside out back. He would have timing on his side and could avoid possibly running into anyone else who might recognize him. Coming up now some seven blocks away, he knew the restaurant was just a spit distance and three traffic lights away when, at one, he could recognize what street he was on now. Just another block and he'd be right up to where Flip's was located.

Flips… Maybe he could make a little detour…

"Yeah… I could go for a Flippie," he said to himself as he made a right turn at the intersection. With his stomach now guiding him, he made sure to stay focused on the road to avoid crossing into traffic when he went the short journey down the road to see what was supposed to be Flips.

'Philp's Food and Fuel? Huh. Guess ol' Flip finally got the boot.'

Shifting the middle lane and rolling into the parking lot, he first thought of just going up to one of the spaces by the front door, but with a truck this size, he'd end up taking up three spots. A sharp turn to the right, and he hooked it just enough to pull underneath the canopy to one of the fuel pumps. Going far enough, the entire front half was exposed to give him enough space to push his door open.

With a groan, he swung his legs back out and slid down the armor out of his seat, bracing himself on the side door. he took a deep breath of the morning air now mixed with the smell of pavement and gas, as he made his way to the store. Passing through, he heard the sound of an electric bell echo throughout the desolate place, with only a large man standing behind the counter with a tower of storage containers by his side stocking up the cigarette racks.

"Good morning!" The man said over his shoulder without looking to see who it was.

"Mornin'." Lincoln replied as he scanned over the store. A bit taken back by the sheer level of cleanliness it was. It was far better stocked, with the prices not absurd. There was no sign of grim anywhere; the floors were mopped to the point the tile was almost reflecting his colors, and the smell of hot food was honestly such a change from what he remembered in the old place it was impossible to think.

Though looking around, the size of the place was almost like a miniature version of some of the Speedways he's been to around the midwest. All funneling towards the front counter with the 70s theme everywhere, there was absolutely nothing that resembled what he remembered. Browsing down one aisle, he looped around by the colors, looking for what fuel felt would tickle the pickle, but saw no sign of his target.

Coming back up to the little queue in front of the register, the man still with his back to him stocking tobacco, Lincoln asked, "Question. Do you guys still sell Flippies?"

The man paused, "Flippies?" he asked, rolling the word around like it was foreign. "You mean slushies?"

"Yeah…?"

"Back corner," The man pointed to his right towards the far corner, "Silver machine to the left of the coffee."

Spotted. "Thank you." He heard a quiet yep as the man went back to his stocking. Making his way over to the service bar, he was greeted by a fairly large selection of drink options with a pizza cooker and pretzel stand with a hothold of fresh food.

They honestly looked bloody fantastic right now. The pretzels especially were super-sized with the optional side of dipping cheese that was actually reasonable enough to dunk for each bite. He could feel his stomach rumble at the presentation before him as a worthy feast to serve as the breakfast he hadn't eaten since last night. With how awake he was, he wouldn't mind a nice dark coffee, but god knows how bad his system would get later if he did. And he honestly didn't want to waste any more time than he needed here. He needed to get to his next two locations and start heading south if he was going to get in position in time for the activity later today.

Coming up to a machine, he was greeted by 20 different flavors ranging from your typical cherry and blue raspberry to some combinations like Red Saturn with a mixed or red and orange or Bog Berry with three shades of green. A few others came as simpler Banana Smash to-

"Storm Blast Hail Berry." He looked at the one selection that was a mix of white with streaks of red and purple mixed in. He found it ironic that the logo itself was homemade, taking the box cover from a DVD case from the show with the text looking like it belonged on a Nerf gun.

With his curiosity peaked, he grabbed the biggest cup they had and filled it up. Topping it off just enough that it didn't foam out from the hole in the lid, he stuck a bundle of straws down and took in a deep gulp.

"Huh…" He smacked his lips, "Tastes like a hailstone covered in watermelon."

With his choice made, he headed back to check out. Looking around the place for what else the place had to offer that called out to be purchased, he knew, had his team been here, they would practically be raiding this place. He wondered just what else had changed in town since he was gone. But that was something that could be done at a much later time.

Coming up to the counter and placing down his drink, he fished out his wallet, "This and 500 diesel on pump five."

The man punched in the drink onto the register and then took a glance outside to make sure that the correct pump was what they said for the payment. Philp nearly felt his neck break when he had to do a triple take to make sure he was seeing what he was seeing parked by his gas pumps. He shot a look back at Lincoln, casually fishing out a couple of hundreds and a five as the man went to make the adjustments.

"That'll be 503 dollars and 36 cents." He said, trying to keep his focus ahead of him and not outside.

Grabbing the money, he heard a little voice in his head say this was going to be a great day for business if this was how it was going to start out as. But as he counted out the change, he couldn't help but look between the tank and the man in front of him. He was having a rough time trying to guess if the person in front of him was older than he was or if someone was so young that they looked so old. The white hair especially was a bit of an oddity, with it looking so natural to not be real no matter how much the hat tried to hide it.

As Lincoln pocketed the change and started to head for the door, right as his hand touched the bar, he heard Philp speak up, "Say… you aren't from around here, are ya?"

Worried that someone else might have caught on, Lincoln steeled himself with a big gulp of his smoothie. It didn't sound like the kind of question people around here would normally ask when they thought they met someone familiar. And he could see the man unable to stop looking out the windows, possibly in amazement at the tank at his establishment.

So what harm was there?

"I'm… from around these parts but a bit further." Lincoln answered as he looked back, "Grew up around here. But mainly live a lot further away.

"Ah." As he returned to his business, Philp nodded in understanding, "Make sense. Anyone driving something like that around is bound to get attention. Have a good day!"

"Yeah, you too," Lincoln said, pushing the door open and heading back outside. Stepping between the islands, he plopped his drink onto the storage box and flung open the gas cap. Plucking up the handle and shoving in to make sure it was firmly in place as he locked it as started to watch the counter tick up.

Kicking his feet up on the ledge of the island, he propped himself up against the back fender and leaned up against the armor. Gazing out ahead of him as the morning sun broke away more of the fog as he could feel the air was already a bit warmer than it was when he was over in Great Lake. He wondered what to do next for his plan. It was only just a little past 8:30 now, and the breakfast rush, if there were one, would either be finishing up or still be busy, depending on how this day went.

Yet his mind didn't want to look forward to what the rest of the day could have in store. Instead, it drifted back to what had just happened not even half an hour ago.

He was right there. Just a knock away from touching the very house he knew so much of his life revolved in from before and now. And he got cold feet to see if anybody was home. In hindsight, he probably should have called in advance to say he was here. But the past week hadn't really have a plan to work with; most of this was just him winging it. Plus, he couldn't risk the possibility of the others on either side discovering what he was up to.

He heard the dinging of another car rolling into the station, approaching a stop behind him. He sighed half-heartedly at how the place was trying to emulate that 70s feel. Looking back at the counter, the digits had just broken 150, and god knows how long he had just been staring off into spa-

"L-L-Lincoln?" he heard a voice stutter to his left, making him nearly lose his footing and fall over.

Steading himself, he was unprepared to have someone call his name out, but when he looked to see who it was that came out of a blue sedan, he was surprised yet relieved at seeing it was exactly how he wanted to see it after this little stop. Dressed in his chef outfit with a light black coat on, slowly inching towards him like he was approaching some creature he had no idea how to go about interacting with, Lynn Loud Sr. raised his hand to grab onto Lincoln's right arm like it was a lifeline he prayed wasn't just some hallucination.

Shock bloomed on his face, and tears quickly began to form as he looked up to his son, who gave him a warm smile.

"Hi, Dad."

---

Silence had consumed all in the house. Its current residents froze like they had just seen the flash of a bomb go off right in front of them.

For Rita Loud, it felt like her heart had skipped a few beats. In all her life, she had never heard Lucy shout like that in all of the last 18 years. She only rarely spoke up, even when she was with her siblings as a united voice. Even during those times, it was a more minor part.

"What-what do you mean he's-" She stuttered until Lucy grabbed her by the sides of her head and turned her to look out the window. Confused by what she was trying to look at, it took her a moment to see the tank parked outside on the street.

And Lincoln was slowly walking up the front steps towards the front door.

Neither woman could comprehend what was happening before them. So many times, they had dreamed of the moments of their son/brother coming home by appearing at their front door with a big smile and arms open at the ready for a big hug stating he's home. Rita always believed it would be on a day they would have never thought to have one of the biggest surprises in her life appear, and she would never let her baby go ever again.

Lucy felt like she was still dreaming. So many times with last night the most recent, she imagined her brother appearing before her in a time of great darkness or misery that he would be the light that had finally come to banish the darkness she never wanted to see. So many times did it vary from just running into him to him barging straight through that front door, proclaiming his heart, and her launching herself at him, if anyone else was present or not, and capturing him in her embrace and lips. The direction those thoughts went ran back and forth from her taking him to her room and just lying in bed as time went on to a more physical reunion that had resulted in some soaked bed sheets. She believed that the day he came back to them would be the day the Loud House would finally be whole again in soul and heart. If this was to be that day, then she'd damn everything in the world if it meant that all that stood in her way now was ten feet of space and two inches of wood from feeling her brother's heartbeat next to hers after so long.

Like a bat out of hell, she ran around her mother towards the front door. Until the athlete and scientist came tumbling down the stairs at her as the three fell to the floor…

The second Lucy's words had reached them, both Lynn and Lisa had scrambled out of their rooms. Having torn the shower curtain off the rail, Lynn thought rationally to the wind and leaped to her feet. Snatching her shorts and whatever shirt she touched first and threw them on in haste as she hopped down the hallway.

Lisa had just started to settle into her seat at her computer with her eyes closed to try and calm her nerves. She knew today was gonna be a long day, and as she went to sip her coffee, the nanosecond she heard Lucy, her eyes sprung open, and coffee went flying across the screens. She lost the grip of her cup as she tried to force the coffee that was midway down her throat and came crashing onto the carpet. Leaping from her chair, she tore the door wide open and ran out into the hall to investigate.

But just as she made it to the first step of the stairs, Lynn came charging/hopping out of the bathroom, trying to get her shorts on, and collided. The duo became a triple feature coming down like an avalanche as Lucy felt her legs get knocked out from under her. Being the unfortunate smallest of the three, Lisa felt the air get crushed out of her lungs under the weight of her older siblings falling on top. Lynn was heavy enough, but add on Lucy getting knocked onto the pile, and she felt that at any moment, she would pass out from the lack of space to breathe.

"Lynn…" Lisa moaned as she struggled to extract herself from the pile.

"Sorry…" Lynn said as she pushed Luch off and rolled off Lisa. But just as fast as she came down, Lynn quickly got back on her feet. "And whatdoyoumeanheshere!?" she shouted out, pulling the goth up and shaking Lucy by her shoulders within inches of her face.

"Will… you… STOP!" Lucy cried out, grabbing onto Lynn's wrists. When she did stop, Lucy tightened her grip and yanked her over to the window. "Look."

It took a second, but looking past the porch to the front yard with Lisa sticking her head to the side to see, the two of them felt like their eyes and minds were about to explode at the fact that their brother was now standing with his back facing them in the middle of the sidewalk. Why he was standing there? They had no idea nor cared at the moment. Unbelieving that her brother was actually here, Lisa ripped her glasses off and quickly cleaned them of any smug or dust that could have caused any possibility of seeing something else. But when she looked back up to Lucy to know if this was true, Lucy looked down at her with a small smile that spoke volumes of their thoughts.

Lynn on the other hand was feeling like she had gone right into an ice bath from walking in the desert. The spikes that sprouted down her spine were so numbing she felt at any moment she was going to collapse. He was here. He had come back to them! He was…walking away. He was shaking his head, turning away from the door before returning down the steps.

He was leaving… he was leaving them again…

"LINCOLN!" the three of them shouted together. And for a brief moment, he looked back.

And they all felt something in them twitch. The way he looked, his beard and long hair, the clothes, it didn't look like it was what they would remember or believe he would actually wear. But despite all that, for a moment, the three of them felt their eyes look directly into his blue orbs for the first time in years. But what they saw wasn't the eyes of someone they remembered. Even on TV, those eyes were filled with so much passion, youth, and light that they all could remember seeing since the day they first remembered him in their lives that sometimes dimmed in bad times but never was gone.

These eyes spoke of pain. All three of them had seen it in their own eyes or experienced it before. The mental, the physical, and spiritual, all at once, looked back at them for a second before Lincoln looked away. Stumbling as he held his head in a daze as he made haste back to his truck.

"Lincoln." Lynn's hand went for the doorknob, "Lincoln, wait!" she cried out as she tried opening the door. Twisting it with all the force she could, she was ready to leap out the door, but it wouldn't budge. She brought a foot up to the wall for leverage. Lucy quickly wrapped her arms around Lynn, trying to pull with her own strength. Everyone could hear metal slowly growing until-

*THACK*

The two of them stumbled backward onto the stairs. Lucy felt her breath get knocked out again as Lynn fell upon her. Holding the broken knob in her hand, in disbelief that their chance was slipping away, Lynn tossed it into the living room and leaped back up. Channeling every ounce of power she had, she positioned herself in front of the door.

"Hi-YAH!"

Bringing her right leg up, she kicked all her power onto the area above the lock. Pieces of aged metal fell to the floor with pieces of splintered wood as the door bounced in its frame. Grabbing the open edge, she threw the door wide open. Any damage done, she knew Lana could easily fix after school. Dashing through the door with Lisa and Lucy quickly following, she leaped down the stairs onto the sidewalk, running for the street. The tank was already moving, picking up speed as the tail lights and its silhouette became darker as it went deeper into the fog.

Lynn had just reached the end of the sidewalk when she could barely see or hear the truck anymore. They missed him. Just 30 more seconds, just that tiny speck of time, was all she could have needed to run the final 15 feet and grab him out of his front seat. But no. Just like the last time he left home for them never to see him again, she wasn't there to even say goodbye.

Like hell she was going to let that happen again.

"Call the others! Tell them we are full-on Thunder Snow, and he's on the move!" She shouted as she took off in the fog down the street the truck went.

"Where are you going?!" Lisa shouted out.

"To get our brother back!" Lynn yelled back as she vanished.

Upon losing complete sight of their sister, Lisa immediately bolted back into the house. Flying up the stairs two steps at a time, hooking onto the edge of the wall and slingshot herself back into her room and grabbing onto the armrest and flinging her chair back around as she sat back at her console and feveriously began typing away. Not pausing as she used part of her lab coat to wipe away some of the coffee, any program and data she had present was swept aside as she began to pull up maps of the town from their house to everywhere around.

A flurry of steps came running up the stairs, and soon Lucy dashed into the room, holding onto the chair to slow her movement. "What are you doing?" She asked, trying to calm herself.

"Accessing every public camera in Royal Woods," Lisa stated as several windows popped open and closed as she entered commands. Near the top portion of the main screen and across the sides, dozens upon dozens of different views, from traffic cameras to doorbells, flooded the screen.

Typing in another prompt, she brought up a 3D model of Storm Shrieker, the SkyKnights logo, and an older picture of Lincoln as the primary forms for the computer to search for. Entering the command, the hundreds of cameras quickly dropped into a few dozen to just four, all showing different angles of the same intersection, with two showing the barely visible sides and one directly facing the dark mass of the tank.

He was already some eight blocks away from the house. He made good use of the lack of traffic as he went through the light into the cultural district of town.

"There he is," Lisa said like a hunter having required their prey as a new set of cameras followed the truck.

"But where's he going?" She asked, leaning closer to try and see Lincoln's blurred figure.

"I'm not certain of what our brother's destination is. But if his progress stays the same, we might be able to intercept him." Moving the feed to one corner, Lisa brought up another set of cameras that followed the intersections that Lincoln had already passed through. Looking for her second target, she spotted Lynn still making a mad dash down the sidewalk some five blocks behind.

The chances Lynn wouldn't stop till she caught up were high; she knew the circumstances of her actually catching up; if Lincoln were covering two blocks for every one she gained, she would lose track of his direction within the next four if he didn't deviate from his current course.

Acting fast, Another panel opened, displaying the group chat. With a few clicks, she immediately dialed up a call.

Elsewhere in town, Leni, Luna, and Luan were all riding in the latter's car, a dark blue 2018 Nissan Versa, having picked up a couple of items their father had requested. They had left to drop Lily off at Elementary and were now on their way to the restaurant.

Like the others, the comedian and rocker both felt today had felt off to some level. The morning wasn't all that out of the ordinary, minus the heavy fog. They made the short trip to the store right after dropping off their baby sis without issue, and picking up the order wasn't anything to write home about. Now, it was more of the case of just getting to the restaurant, having a little chat with Lori, and then heading back off to the house to resume the rest of their day.

It wasn't all that bad when you thought about it. Luan was enjoying what could be considered a day off after officially getting her party business back up and running. She didn't know just how much the folks around the area had missed her bringing a smile to their kids. And now, some of those kids she made to help laugh were booking her services to their kids. It was a dream come true in a perfect way. Making generations of families have memorable days with the possibility of many more in the future.

It wasn't exactly the big shot on the top of Comedy Central she had thought she would be here right now. It took a lot for her to get the idea knocked into her head that she shouldn't go after a laugh like it's America hearing that a country has oil and needs some freedom to help with it. Her family had been exposed to her kind of brand, and it had become oversaturated. A couple of times, it was okay to test the waters, talk to others in person or online to see where the hit or miss was, and zero in on the punchline. Eventually, it followed more of what the people would be expecting and more of what the heart would be willing.

In the last few days, she has definitely seen that new spark really grow. Later today, she had a birthday scheduled at Lily's school for one of the students in her class and knew by lunchtime, she'd need to get ready to get down and set up. Enjoy a little time with her sister and head home after a successful day of making the world smile. But in her mind, there was still that missing link that had yet to be truly fixed.

When she found out about what Lincoln did with the foundation, she thought about adding a donation charge to her shows so that every extra penny she could get was going to something far bigger.

She understood why Lincoln wouldn't be so joyful when chasing. A lot of the side footage the show had of him and his team made it feel like he really didn't change from the loveable goofball of a little brother she remembered. Even some of the jokes he popped off here and there he would say were inspired by some of her old work. She could see so much of everyone in him it was painful when it didn't click for that person. He had Lori's authority, Leni's passion, Luna's creativity, Lynn's determination, Lucy's instincts, Lana's prows in getting down in the dirt and gears, Lola's perfectionism, Lisa's brains (to a degree) and Lily's innocence (to what degree she questions after the 14th episode from what it implied he and Ronnie did.)

And her drive to help anyone who needs to have a reason to smile again. If it meant as simple as some clothes to a new home, he did it for tens of thousands of people with nothing asked in return. They partied; he kept up the hunt and paid for it in his own blood.

Luan remembered how Lisa explained the 14th episode was on Lincoln's birthday. She remembered how, for the last three years, she was ready to throw her brother a party big enough to rival the Fourth of July when he turned 18. When they went into the giant tornado and waited, the music, the noise, the cheering, Clyde announcing him a happy birthday that was heard and repeated by hundreds on the radio when his cheers and laughs could be heard about how this day was one of the best he's ever had. The party afterward was almost what she'd imagined them having at the restaurant, with half the town joining in on the fun.

He was living his life out there without them. And she wished she was still a part of it…

It was how Luna got her spark of inspiration to find something for her time. She couldn't say she was one to sit around the house and wait for an opportunity to show up at their door. She was a 25-year-old woman still living with ten siblings in their parent's house. Sure, the money from her time with the Moon Goats meant she technically had enough bank to get her own apartment somewhere and even a downpayment on a car; what good would that do? Guzzle up funds for her just living alone with nowhere to really go.

It wasn't something she was proud of.

But being home meant to help take up the slack from their mother to let her enjoy her time. She spent 30 years raising them; she and their dad had the right to spend the time they wanted while their grown kids looked after the house and younger kin. It was pretty much just her and Lynn, sometimes Lucy when she wasn't out, cleaning up, helping with laundry or dinner. It made her feel and know she was actually contributing to the family.

Then, one day, she got an idea.

Browsing YouTube, she had come across a few channels of singers and musicians making covers of some of her band's songs. And damn, were they good. She felt pride in that so many people loved her music and wanted to do their own form of it. It meant that song would continue to live on for the times to come with it all pointing back to where it was started.

But those were just covers. Some of these people collaborated with others or had their own music channels with so much music they had their albums worth of originals she felt could really make it big.

With some help from Luan to get her account set for it and a some 1,500 dollar computer and recording equipment now in the corner of their room, she would lie, saying she wasn't a bit nervous. She posted a few songs that never really did make the cut with the band, but she could still play solo. When they were really getting the views, Luan suggested doing live streams. Sitting there with the headphones on in the room with the computer, she felt like she looked more like those big-name gamers.

The first episode of 'Louder Beyond the Moon' was arguably one of the best times she had in two years and was something she looked forward to now that her following was rapidly growing with each episode she did on Fridays. But last Friday something happened that she couldn't sleep the rest of the weekend. She had just finished playing one of her new concept songs, "Rain on the Highway", meant to make you feel like you're driving through a storm at night when a donation came through.

"Keep rocking on, sister! ~SSSharp"

It took part of the show for her to calm down and see if it really was who she thought it was. Searching through channels, she had found the account that used to be their old Moon Goats page. Almost two years' worth of content had been uploaded that focused more on what her bandmate/friend had been up to all this time. The rest of the show had been playing some of their older music with thoughts of the possibility of the two of them maybe collaborating together again like old times in the future.

And then there was Leni in the back seat. She watched over the supplies by leaning her head back with hands woven together like she was asleep. No matter what bump or turn they took, it made her sway out of whatever nirvana she was in.

Looking in the rearview at her older sister, Luna couldn't deny she was a bit jealous at how her sister went about with the world. But something had been odd about her for a while now. A lot of her free time was devoted to that suit she was apparently making for Lincoln if he ever came home, but if it was just that, then she wouldn't be too bothered.

She wasn't alone in seeing it, nor did she think Leni was the only one who had whatever it was. Even now, it felt almost like it was on its way to Great Lake City, only with the silence stronger than ever. Whenever something was involved with Lincoln, any one of them would… react in a way that she had only remembered seeing years ago. Luna felt it in her mind the same way; whenever something new came forward, that tied the two together, something deep inside sturred that kept her up at night trying to think of things that didn't feel but felt so right.

Luan knew her problem well. But Luna had the aching feeling that she knew it a bit too well…

The ride from the shop to Lynn's Table was mainly left in silence. The parking lot was mostly empty of vehicles minus a half dozen from the customers having a late breakfast inside. Coming around the backside, they spotted Lori leaning up against Vanzilla, texting on her phone. Not even an hour into her shift, the oldest Loud sister looked ready to call in a day already.

Looking up from her device as the blue Nissan pulled up in front of her, she stuffed the phone into her pocket. Once the car came to a halt, she wasted no time in opening the back door.

"This everything?" She asked, loading up her arms with bags.

"Yeah, it was everything they said dad ordered," Luan answered as she stepped out of the car, followed by the others. Once Lori loaded as much as she could carry, Luan stepped around and started up her load. "What exactly does he need all this food for?"

"Our weekly supply order didn't come in…" Lori muttered in annoyance. Mentally slapping herself at how it was even possible to have missed something that important in the paperwork.

"Well, you gotta admit, that party was wild even for our taste," Luna said as she opened the trunk to pull out more items. Handing some to Leni as the four of them headed into the back of the restaurant.

Stepping through the door, the sisters were all greeted by a blast of warm air rushing down the hallway rich with the smell of freshly cooked food coming hot off the pan. Though for Lori it was a smell she had grown used to, the other couldn't deny that the smell had done wonders to wake them all up. Coming into the back of the kitchen, the staff was already at work popping at any of the last orders of the morning rush with some cleaning up their workstations.

Dropping the bags onto the center prep tables, Lori could only sigh as she looked at what was already most of the order in front of her. They'd be fine into the next morning if they didn't get rushed down again, but it wasn't going to be much. How they were going to get through the rest of the week was going to be in her hands to figure out.

"So where's Popstar?" Luna asked, noting the lack of their father in the kitchen.

"*sigh* He ran out to go get more milk and eggs. Said he'd be back in a little bit." Lori answered as she slumped against the wall. She ran her hands through her hair as it fell into a disorganized mess she'd have to fix later. "God forbid something actually makes today worth it…"

Suddenly, they heard and felt all of their phones. As one, they all fished them out of their pockets to see a new notification in the group chat for the first time in nearly a month. It was from Lisa, tagging just the four of them, with her icon having a call menu beside it.

Luna was the first one to answer, "Sup, Lisa. What's-"

"We are Thunder Snow. I repeat. We are at code five Thunder Snow, and Lynn is currently in active pursuit as we speak." She stated that she was holding back the urge to panic.

To the four of them, time felt like it had all stopped at once. Lori almost crushed her phone, Leni felt her heart skip a beat, Luan felt like her brain had just fried, and Luna was struggling to keep her hold on her phone.

"WHAT!?" they shouted.

"Approximately ten minutes ago, our brother Lincoln was spotted by Lucy arriving in his armored vehicle approaching the house but did not proceed any further than the porch. We attempted to follow, but the door had rendered itself unusable at the moment, and we were too late to stop him directly. He is currently in transit through the town as we speak, last seen heading in your direction."

Luna's phone screen changed from the chat and call to something that resembled more like a camera feed. Turning it sideways, the four gathered around, almost ripping the phone from her grasp, as they watched what looked like a camera feed from the garage angled at the front yard. The rate time was moving said that the video was clearly being sped up, but through the fog and darkness, a light appeared. A Ford truck, from how the headlights looked, pulled off to the opposite side of the street across from the house. Anyone could have said it was the neighbors, but the driver's door flipping open in the opposite direction and a man stumbling out and heading towards their house made the hairs on the back of their necks rise higher than mountains. Once the man got just within distance of the porch, the video began playing at normal speed.

There he was. Right in front of their house, walking to the front door.

"Lincoln…" they all whispered under their breath like they had muttered the actual name of a god.

The screen split to show the inside of the house; between Lisa going to her room, Lynn to the bathroom, Lucy to the kitchen, all the way to Lynn kicking the door to break the lock as Lincoln was walking away from the house back to his truck. It was just seconds between it rolling out of view to Lynn flying down the sidewalk barefoot and running after it. For a second, she paused, and they could see Lucy and Lisa just within the frame before Lynn took off and the others went back inside.

Like a broken dam, a flood of unimaginable proportions consumed them. Some had stars in their eyes that their beloved brother had come home to them, others mentally berating themselves for not being there at home.

"Wait." Lori froze, staring at the phone. "Lisa, you said he was heading in our direction?"

"Correct. He is approximately three miles to your northeast from what little feed I can get from equipped areas. Lynn is about a mile behind him and growing."

"..."

"...Guys?"

"VAN! NOW!" Lori shouted, pointing to the hallway. "TERRY, YOU'RE IN CHARGE!" She bolted out the door back down the hallway.

Her siblings, startled by Lori's sudden change, quickly gathered themselves and ran out of the kitchen. Leaving a bemused staff shaking their head at their antics and some customers looking over at the commotion. Looping into her dad's office to snatch the keys to Vanzilla, Lori nearly collided headlong into Luna as they burst outside.

Frantically trying to get the key into the hole, in her haste, Lori dropped the keys onto her shoe. Panicking, she moved to look for where they fell until she saw them fly under the van.

"Dammit!" she swore, getting on her hands and knees to look for them. Luan got down with her, trying to spot where the fob went as the van rocked back and forth from Leni trying to open the door.

"Lori…" she moaned, on the verge of ripping the handle off.

"I'm… trying-Ah, Ha!" Her finger hooked onto the keychain and yanked it towards her. Scrambling to her feet, she almost broke the key, shoving it into the lock.

Flinging the door open and unlocking the van for the others, the girls scrambled inside so fast it was like old times competing for the sweet spot. Luan didn't have a second to close her door when Lori sent the van backward out of its spot—skidding to a stop as the wheels burned in place before the van flew out of the parking lot onto the street.

Even if he was coming towards them, why would they wait? Lori was utterly willing to sacrifice the van if it meant getting to him sooner, and she doubted the others would argue against it. The streets were mostly empty, but there were more cars than the others had seen when coming to the restaurant. In what felt like a stroke of luck, the traffic lights ahead were or had switched to green so that the fog barely made the distance signs visible.

And Lori made full use of the opportunity. Pressing on the gas at the speed they were going, she knew if a cop saw, she would probably get a hefty ticket or her license suspended, but she didn't care. She watched the odometer more carefully than her speed, watching it tick over the last mile it didn't complete to the mile she had gained. But as another mile was added, she looked down the empty street, expecting to see the headlights of an armored truck to appear.

Instead, out from the mist, they could see a woman coming at them full sprint down the street. Barefoot and running down the middle of the road, to some, you'd think it was some crazy lady having gone insane with the meds. The fact she was wearing a shirt Luan knew she wore last night gave some clue to who it was, but the glaring fact her hair was down and flying in the wind behind her was what surprised them the most. If anyone knew their sister well enough, it was that she rarely, if ever, let anyone beyond the house see her with her hair down. The fact she was running out in the middle of town told them enough that the situation at hand was on a scale that she didn't care.

As Lynn ran through an empty intersection, the van met her halfway as it came to a sudden halt. Realizing whose car it was and who was in it, with a heavy breath, she slowed her speed, coming up to Lori's window.

"Guys!" She said winded. "You won't believe-woah!" Before saying any more, she felt Leni and Luan grab her by the arms and pull her in from the back door. The second they closed behind her, the van rocketed onwards.

"Lisa, how close are we?" Lori asked.

"I lost him." She bluntly stated. Making all of them feel like they were just struck by lightning.

"WHAT?! HOW COULD YOU LOSE HIM!?" Luna shouted like she was having a heart attack.

"He turned right down Brooks Street and got out of camera view. Most intersections between it and the next major street are mainly signage and lack street lights."

"Damn. I overshot it…" Lynn muttered in frustration.

"WHERE'S BROOKS STREET?!" Lori shouted, demanding an answer as she felt their time was short.

"There! LEFT RIGHT HERE!" Luna yelled, pointing at the street sign ahead of them. The traffic light had just turned yellow, and other vehicles in the opposite cue were preparing to roll through. But Vanzilla showed no sign of slowing down.

As the van barreled into the intersection, the engine roared like an old man having a war flashback. The last hubcap flew off the back wheel as four sisters screamed their lungs out, throwing themselves to the left side as they felt the van had only its right side wheels still touching the earth. Keeping her grip as tight as she would hold her phone, gritting her teeth to the point of the aching pain slowly forming, Lori channeled every ounce of her power into commanding the van not to flip over as she whipped them through the intersection.

Once they felt all the wheels touching the ground again, they all let out a sigh of relief as Lori kept her focus on the next stop light. "How far did he go, Lisa?" she asked the phone.

"I was able to tap into an outside camera for a flower shop located on the street. It appears Lincoln pulled off near Philp's Food and Fuel."

"Right there!" Lynn shouted point blank into Lori's ear as she pointed over her left shoulder.

Lori floored the gas pedal as the van rocketed down the road towards the gas station. Everyone held onto whatever they could that wouldn't instantly snap off as the van jumped from hitting the edge of the lot. Its wheels screamed out, burning rubber as Lori stopped them in front of the store. Jumping out the doors the moment the car stopped, the four sisters looked around the lot for any sign of the tank but found nothing close to its resemblance.

"Lisa, he's not here!" Luna shouted in frustration like she had just been given the wrong directions. But no sound came from the call. Only what little actions of moving in the background were picked up, but the scientists said nothing.

"Lisa?" She asked, a bit more concerned as to why Lisa had gone silent.

"... Look towards pump four." That was all she said. Following her instructions, they looked over the fuel station, where Lori immediately recognized her car was sitting at the fuel pumps, with their crying father sitting on the ground in front of it.

---

Throughout his life, Lynn Loud Senior has seen and experienced a lot in his life. So much so that he knew Rita was working on the idea of an autobiography about the family; given the crazy antics his family could generate on a normal day, it would be a story in and of itself to tell. He had experienced things that were why he lost so much hair on his head, had grown more on his chin, and had become as white as Christmas. Once this year started turning around with the girls, life felt like it was finally letting light shine down on his family to let him know that while he still had a little bit more to go, he was doing what a father should.

He might have gotten a grip on his overly emotional state, but right now, he couldn't do anything but cry out as he latched himself onto his son in as tight of a hug as he could with his old bones. The fact he could hear his heartbeat, his son's heartbeat, for the first time in what felt like ages was like hearing an angel's song.

Lincoln, his son. His baby boy. Here in the flesh and alive.

He hadn't seen him for three years. Hadn't heard from him directly in over one. Even with that letter, it felt like the world had told him to accept the fact that he had been lost to the world like a soldier that had disappeared in a war, never to be heard from or seen again.

Lynn remembered vividly what the show presented, and as anyone in the family didn't like him running into danger, the passion he had in his eyes upon achieving success made me feel happy he had finally found his calling. But it was his commitment to helping those in the aftermath that made his heart swell in pride that if it were to be the cause of his demise, he would gladly accept that as a fact.

Seeing him in that last ten minutes, hearing his boy scream and be silenced by what could only be said as God's roar, it hurt him. Dealing with the almost relentless pain inflicted upon his daughters, his son did everything he could to keep them in the light while he was down there in the heart of hell, suffering an unknown fate. He couldn't sleep at night for days, making the others worry about his mental health.

Today, he had woken up with some optimism until he got to the restaurant and found out about the botched delivery. He didn't blame Lori; he was actually surprised she even remembered it, given how much she was in the same boat as he was. They had managed to have enough stock to last a decent morning rush, but he had opted to try and pick up whatever he could to last for the day.

He came down here to get a few things of bread and gallons of milk. He took Lori's car just because it wouldn't have been much reason to use Vanzilla with it on the verge of finally giving out. He came here to get through the day. He didn't come here to run into the backend of a tank with his son, just standing there like it was a normal day.

And when he spoke…

Lynn couldn't hear himself think of anything as he cried into Lincoln's shoulder. He could feel his son's arms come up and wrap around him to return the gesture, and the fact that he was just as if not taller than he was wasn't last on him at all. The fact of how big he was only added more to the pile of how much he was proud of how Lincoln had become.

But something felt off. Something felt wrong…

When he was able to pull himself together enough to open his puffy eyes and wipe away the tears, he looked up, expecting to see that bright and youthful face that he remembered seeing on TV and leaving years ago.

What he got was not that.

How Lincoln was able to stay calm in the face of disaster, Lynn would never fully know. How his 20-year-old son, in just five months, went from looking so full of life to physically looking like he was a decade older than he was made his old mind scramble to try and come up with reasons. Looking into his eyes, Lynn got his answer. When the last twenty-six years had given him what he had, with the last one being one insane gut punch after another, he could see the stress and pain every time he woke up in the morning and looked into the mirror.

His son had achieved a lot in a short time. Yet how he was able to outdo his own father in that department baffled and hurt Lynn more than he ever thought could be possible. In the face of so much, he always believed in just how strong his son stood in the path of what threatened he loved and cared for.

He was out there in the world, and the world was eating him alive.

"Lincoln, what-what are you doing here?" Lynn asked almost pleadingly. So long that he hadn't heard anything from his boy that the chances of him appearing now of all days gave him every reason to want to know why.

Lincoln didn't respond right away. Closing his eyes and letting out a sigh, he turned around to the back of his truck. Pulling open the rear door and climbing inside, Lynn felt himself panic, thinking Lincoln was trying to leave until he shoved that idea into the trash. Lincoln crawled his way under his turret and plopped himself between the rear seats. He opened the glovebox as he went digging for something. For the moment, Lynn came up and rested his hand against the back door and found himself actually taking a long, hard look at the beast made of steel before him.

This was his son's brainchild of a creation. Made by his hands and hard work and spending years refining it. He could relate whenever he tried coming up with a new dish to serve and the process of coming up with something visually pleasing and able to speak to the soul.

This was hardened, tested, and proven metal. Lynn had little doubt that if this thing drove through a house like the truck in Twister, the house would get demolished before it got halfway through and still keep going. He could see where the welds connected, the rows and rows of bolts, little rust spots, and an endless sea of scrapes and scars that populated the fading paint. The contrast where fading gray met stainless steel was ironic to him: aged versus youth. His boy was his own man now, but he was outrunning him to the grave. If it weren't for this homemade tank, that would have been a lot sooner than any of them would dare dream of.

With a grunt, Lincoln steadily crawled his way back out of the cab, turning around once he had space under the turret to face his father with a handful of envelopes.

"I have something for you." He said, handing his father the stack.

As Lynn took hold of something he had only remembered seeing in the thickness of bills, he looked over the unmarked paper as his son stepped down and yanked the door shut behind him.

"What's all this?" Lynn asked, looking up at him.

Lincoln let out a long sigh, "A multitude of things. Late and early birthday slash Christmas gift," He reached into the stack and pulled out an envelope with an orange stamp over the front, "and a way to secure the future for everyone."

Without saying anything more but handing the slip back, Lynn rested the remaining papers under his arm as he tore open the envelope. Utterly loaded with pages and pages, he looked back to Lincoln with the questioning look of what he was supposed to be looking at. But Lincoln remained stoic and watched.

Grabbing the first page that he focused on, he skimmed through some of the disclaimers and lines where Lincoln had signed his name, but the further he went down, the more Lynn felt his confusion begin to transform into fear.

It was documentation about a life insurance policy.

"Lincoln…" And he grabbed another paper, one towards the end that made his eyes bulge out, and blood run cold.

'The Last Will and-'

He dropped the entire stack like he was holding a chunk of burning hot iron. He felt his breathing rapidly increase as his mind relaid the small bits of information it was prepared for.

"Lincoln-wha…what the hell is all this?" He wasn't one to swear, but his mind felt it was a second away from having complete turmoil.

Lincoln crouched down with a groan as he scooped up the papers. "Like I said, a way to secure the future. Everyone's future."

He held the papers back out, but Lynn hesitated. Lincoln knew he was being extremely vague with his words, but he didn't want to spark something that could become a wildfire. He narrowly dodged that with Bobby, but it was his father who was in front of him this time. The fact that fate led him here instead of going straight to the restaurant was something he questioned but accepted. He would have preferred both his parents present, but in his heart, he felt that the moment his mother saw him here handing the papers, she would collapse. He trusted his dad enough to go through the next steps of his plan without having to shore up defenses.

"I… I know that wasn't the best thing to start with. But I need you to understand what I'm trying to do…"

"And that is?"

Lincoln looked towards the ground, feeling some of his strength from earlier being absent. "... Trying to tie up loose ends."

"And what do you mean by that?" Lynn almost snarked back. He wondered just what his son meant by the family being a loose end to something this important.

Lincoln sighed again, something he was beginning to do a lot recently each time he felt some of his energy start to dwindle. Leaning back, he rested himself on Shrieker's back bumper, not caring that one of the winches was jabbing into his leg. He gestured for the spot next to him, and Lynn slowly came forward and rested beside him. Honestly, to Lynn, it felt like so many old memories of either him talking to his child or his father talking to him. The Dad and Son talk where it is just the two of them viewing the world. The fact Lincoln was the one to invoke it spoke more of how much he had changed.

Resting the stack on the truck bed, Lynn waited for whatever Lincoln had to say. His boy merely leaned back, resting against the taillight as he lived his lips trying to come up with something.

"How are they… the girls?" Lincoln asked with a hint of concern and curiosity. Lynn had heard him use a lot when something came up with his sisters.

With all he does, Lynn thought that even by now, he and Rita would have moved out of the house, with Lincoln staying to watch over his younger sisters till they left the nest. But that he believed wouldn't have stopped him. He knew his son; even through all the hell his kids put themselves through, if it were one thing to know, Lincoln would always be there somehow for each and every one of them. He remembered vividly each time they celebrated a birthday this year; they all had the same wish he knew he couldn't fulfill.

And with Lincoln here now, he got an idea. It was crazy, but sometimes the absolute craziest were the ones that worked the best. All he needed was time. He knew some of the girls were somewhere in town getting him supplies, and Lori was looking over the store. If he could steer the ship just enough, he might be able to make a miracle happen.

"Heh, where to begin…" He chuckled, shaking his head as the memories of the past few months came surging forward, "After you sent that letter, it really was like they had finally broken out of some dreadful curse and got to be themselves again. Lori was ready to jump headlong into keeping the biggest job she could find to help support the family, but I offered her to be the manager at the restaurant again till she could get back on her feet. Leni and Luan have been doing fantastic with their businesses, and I'm surprised Leni hasn't claimed the garage as her personal studio. Luna's been… a bit on and off. But from what I've heard, she's found a lot of success making music online."

It… wasn't precisely what Lincoln had hoped for. After all this, he had expected to hear about them having gone to distant avenues to new paths. He felt a cold chill scream down his back that wasn't from the armor at the thought that had he kept going on to the restaurant; he would have run into his oldest sister instead of his father. What kind of chaos could have triggered a storm he couldn't imagine? But part of him was undoubtedly happy that they were finding their success growing again. They were still young; they had plenty of time to make their future theirs.

"What about Lynn?" he asked. He remembered how it was because of her accident and things before that had led them to this point. "Figure it took her time to get back up to full steam again.

Lynn snorted and nodded, "We both know Junior; she takes the saying that you can't keep a Loud down very seriously. It took her a bit to get used to the braces Lisa made for her, but she was running again in what felt like no time. She's still at home, but it's been a bit of a back and forth between her wanting a regular job or going back to college after the New Year."

"Wait, so who all's at home?" Lincoln asked with an unease in his voice.

Lynn thought for a second, "Hmm. If Leni, Luan, and Luna finished getting the stuff I needed and already dropped it off, it should just be Junior, Lucy, Lisa, and your mother at home until they get back and the others get out of school. Why?"

Lincoln felt a wave of panic surge through him at the reality of how he had not only dodged an ambush because of his stomach, but the fact that he avoided walking into a potential minefield because of getting cold feet felt like the universe wasn't even trying to taunt him at this point. Why he had picked today of all days that could have resulted in so many problems was something he'd beat himself for the coming days. If he had come earlier or just a little later, he would have run into most of the family at home or in town without knowing where anyone was.

He didn't call anyone in advance to ask if anyone knew any updates. He called Liam when he was leaving Great Lake for the sake he'd already be up tending to the farmstead. Everyone else he didn't want to disturb or cause a panic, but now he was starting to regret that decision.

"Just… Just curious…" he said, trying to hide his growing anxiety and catch his breath. Thankful that his jacket was hiding his rapidly moving chest from view, he kept his face looking away from Lynn. "How's the others?"

"Well, after Lucy graduated, she's mostly kept to herself but has been going out more with some of her old friends like that Haiku girl. Lana's been thinking about going into business once she's out of school or just working at the school. Lola's…" Lincoln glanced at his father at his hesitation. "... A bit different. Honestly, she looks far better than before, especially with how her hair is now, but she hasn't had that much interest in going back into doing pageants anymore."

"A phoenix dies in flame, but from the ashes rises anew."

Lynn grimaced at the thought of what could have been Lola's fate that day. But he had to agree that coming out of those dark times, his daughter was shining like gold now. "Lisa's been keeping herself busy for a while now. She's been taking it a bit easier after everyone started returning to normal, but most of her time outside academics had been looking for you…"

He figured as much. If there were any other Loud he knew that would spend a heavy amount of time trying to find him, it was Lisa. Lola or Lori were close seconds in their social connections, and maybe Luna and Lynn followed behind. Those two were mainly down to the fact he participated in many events meant to help build up the disaster relief program and had his name out there.

But Lisa was the one to go straight for the source. With how far he's gone to avoid just the random internet stalker finding his home on Google Earth and sending god knows what to his mailbox, she was the one outside everyone he figured would find him first. He always pictured that day happening, just before or during storm season, with her showing up at his front door with luggage after flying out on her own a day after she found the farm.

"And Lily…" Lynn felt another surge of joy, "she was the ray of sunshine every day for us. Oh, you should have seen her. Whenever we were down, she was always there with that positive mind that probably competed with Leni's. And every time she did it, she kept on reminding us, 'It's what you would do for us.'"

Lincoln couldn't tell if his father was intentionally trying to dig at his heart, but he couldn't deny that he felt two sides swirling around in him. He felt his heart swell with pride in visualizing his little sister as that unstoppable force of happiness that would be a light in a dark hour. He remembered when she was getting up and moving, finding her voice; he was all over her faster than his parents. He taught her more than any of his younger siblings, from reading and writing to being the one to helping her ride a bike. She would be the one in the family that, twenty years from now, would have her dream life.

But part of him wasn't happy. If anything, it was regretful. She looked up to him so much he could see her gaining some of his traits were wearing onto her. He left thinking her childhood would be more normal than anything his compared to. If she was following in his footsteps, he feared what it could lead to.

"Really… all that's missing for them is their brother."

"It wasn't enough…" Lincoln muttered. The smile on Lynn's face dropped when he saw the look in Lincoln's eyes from having some of that caring sparkle become dull again.

"What? Lincoln, No! No! It was enough! It was more than enough than any of us could have asked for. Lincoln, you saved them. You're literally the hero of the family! We all saw how far you were willing to go, especially for them! They wouldn't be anywhere close to where they are now without you."

"That's why with this," Lincoln reached back, holding the stack, "is meant to be that last push they need. The others all have their lives set in motion and need some course correcting. I know by now Lucy wants to either go to college to expand her writing or go her own route. The twins still have time. Lisa's had hers locked since she was four, but it doesn't hurt to have more resources at hand, and Lily…"

He paused to clear his mind from darkening thoughts, "... She has her whole life ahead of her. She has the opportunity to choose how her life in her youth can be without so much drama in the future. My only hope is she doesn't try following in someone's footsteps like mine…"

Lynn could only feel himself become more dumbfounded, "Wha… Lincoln!" he exclaimed, rising to his feet. "Where are you getting these ideas from?!

"It's better for the family, for everyone, if only one has to go through hell by their own choice..."

"That... That's not even a good reason! Not even a reason at all!"

"It's every reason because of it!" Lincoln shouted as he pushed off the bumper. "Think, Dad. Think. If I hadn't been out there on those days, God knows what could have happened for all of us. What kind of help would I have been? If it was just one or two of us, then sure, we could make it. But not like that. Out there, I can make that difference a reality. Even if it means getting some burns and scars, it means they can live their lives in peace even without me."

"And do you think that's what they want?!" Lynn shouted back. He held himself firm as he started to feel tears building up again. "I've had to spend weeks, months… almost two years of waking up at night and hearing them crying. I sometimes stumble upon Lynn coming out of your old room when cleaning or… or Lucy saying your name when writing. Lisa spent so much of her time just looking for you and Leni… well she expresses it a bit differently than everyone else with her work, but you get the idea! You said you'd go through hell if it meant no one else did. We've seen it. We've all gone through our own kinds of hell in one form or another, but you did what you said. You got them out. They can live their lives normally again. But they can't without you."

He could see the fire in his son's eyes fading as he spoke. He was getting to him.

"Please… I'm begging you…" Lynn rested his hands on Lincoln's shoulders, but the young man didn't look up to meet his eyes. "...come home. For me, for your mother. For your sisters…"

It felt like the first minute of eternity when Lincoln did look up to his father again. For a moment, Lynn could see almost three different people looking back at him.

He could see his beloved son; the one he had seen had so much life in him that it was practically contagious to others that he wished nothing more than to come home. He saw the grown man he had become. Having the blood of others on his hands at times, he was powerless to stop nature but didn't stop trying to help in the aftermath—a man on a mission with a plan to follow. But what the third was, he felt, was something incomplete. It was a mix of the two, but a large part was missing; it could only be described as seeing someone's shadow in the dark.

Through his eyes, he could see three. With his face, he could see a fourth that was very, very tired. If Lynn could get it through, he'd probably take Lincoln to a barber shop somewhere to get those drapes cut down, and that bush chopped off. In his personal taste, the beard just didn't sit right with him. It made his son look too old for his actual age.

The moment was interrupted when they heard two noises; one was of a phone going off and the other the sign that the fuel pump had finished. Taking the chance to use it as a distraction, Lincoln moved to the side to take the nozzle out of the tank. Lynn felt part of him cracked when Lincoln tore himself out of his hands. He could see him trying to avoid saying anything that could spark something worse between them.

Putting the nozzle back up, Lincoln felt his internal clock ask for the time. He wondered to himself how much time he had been here in his old town and how much it wasn't going as expected. He glanced at his watch: fifteen minutes.

It felt a lot longer than just fifteen minutes standing here. Right when the fuel stopped, he'd be gone, but it still felt so much longer. At best, he had only been in town for over an hour. His thoughts immediately went to what else he needed to get done today, and he still had a nearly seven-hour drive ahead of him. He needed to get rolling immediately. When he turned to close the gas cap, he looked back to see his father still standing in his spot with tear streaks reflecting in the growing sunlight.

He closed his eyes and sighed. Hanging his head down, he held himself on the rear fender panel. He didn't want to leave his dad like this. He didn't want him to be at all like this today because of him. Past the brim of his hat, he could see Lynn standing there waiting for his response.

Lincoln took a deep breath and looked up, "I promise I'll be back. But I can't promise when." It wasn't a lie to any part. Lincoln did hope to one day come back and be in familiar territory again. Be among old friends and faces. But he knew that was still far in the future where too much could change that goal.

Lynn wanted to deny that statement. Say that was what he said four years ago, and look where it went. Nothing for months, and suddenly, one day, he shows up with no warning without trying to visit, only to give him some papers. He could have sent that through the mail and actually come up here to spend time with his family.

But he couldn't force him to stay or come. He lost his legal rights two years ago when Lincoln had become a man, and guilt-tripping was useless at this point. Lincoln had kept his promise as he said he would.

"Promise me, promise me you will come back…" Lynn said, taking a single slow step forward. Almost afraid if he took one more, Lincoln would bolt like an animal.

Pushing himself off the armor, Lynn thought he was about to do just that when Lincoln came around and suddenly brought him into a tight hug from his end. Lynn didn't hesitate at all to return the favor. Both shifted their head to be against the other's shoulder. Lynn felt himself close his eyes again to focus on this feeling again. Lincoln, however, looked off into the distance of town. Where the fog was still thick and night barely existed.

"I promise…" he gave a tight squeeze. "...after all. You and I still got that first beer to look forward to." his dad shared a sad laugh. He felt his mind filled with ideas of what they could now do together as father and son.

"I'll hold you to that," Lynn responded as Lincoln slowly pulled away.

"I gotta get rolling. Got some things left to finish up before heading back south." Lynn said nothing but nodded. Wishing so much to have some of his youth back to pick his son off his feet and head home.

With a final nod, Lincoln turned around, walked back along the driver's side, and stepped up on the outrigger. Grabbing the door handle, he swiftly spun himself into the cab with the door slamming shut behind him. Fishing out his keys, he placed the tip of the metal just on the edge of the ignition before he slammed it in.

"If only you knew…" he said quietly, looking up into his rearview mirror to see his dad still standing right behind as he started the truck.

Lynn nearly felt himself get knocked off his feet when the tank roared to life. The start-up was fine, but once it turned, it felt like a monster had just awakened right in front of him. The rear lights glowed a bright red for a second before fading as the tank lurked forward and started pulling away.

He pleaded for whoever would listen to allow him to get that shot of adrenaline that would let him cover the distance before Lincoln got out onto the street. He felt himself a few steps forward like he was ready, but he shopped himself. The front wheels of the tank had already touched the pavement, and the rest soon followed to the other side. Groaning as it traveled a couple of yards down before taking a sharp right past a store and disappearing entirely from view.

When the tank was out of view, Lynn felt his legs starting to give out. He backpedaled into Lori's car, trying to support himself on the hood, but felt his arms giving out soon after. Sliding down the front bumper till his bottom rested on the concrete.

He felt his eyes starting to tear up again until he felt his phone vibrate again. Unsure of who it was, he fished it from his pocket. It was a text message from Terry.

'They're coming.' was all it said.

He felt his hand start shaking as far behind him; he could hear wheels screeching down the street and bashing into the curb of the parking lot as it came to a halt and heard Luna's voice call out.

His phone slipped from his hand, and he bowed his head before letting anything he couldn't hold back anymore flow freely.

---

The journey out of Royal Woods was a conflicting but thankfully quiet affair for Lincoln. He had to navigate Storm Shrieker down narrower streets, with some actually being too small for him to drive down and had to find something bigger for his tank to fit. He was traveling more through the urbanized area of town that blended more in with the surrounding suburbs of Detroit itself.

He passed some familiar places he remembered from his youth. Either thriving as ever, abandoned, or now something completely different. He could probably spend a whole day driving around town looking for what had changed or not.

But he didn't have the time.

As much as it would probably do good for his mixed-up mind to go sightseeing, today was unstable as it was, and where he was going was going to be even more of the definition. His travel through town wasn't quiet either when he noticed some people out and about when the fog had mostly cleared away and the sun had come out completely. Noticing something like his truck around these parts was enough to gain some attention.

But people would have to settle with a driveby rather than a meet and greet. He didn't know when storms could start firing up, with the risk area being placed near Louisville all the way down to Birmingham. Anything north was going to be windbags with a lot of rain and not worth its price as a car wash. So in some twist, he took a bit of a more scenic route through the city. Jumping on Interstate 75, he cruised past the glimmering downtown skyline and honestly wished someone was able to get a picture of the tank with the city.

A brief change over onto 94, then back to 75, and he was on his way southbound. He knew that he'd have to GPS his route, but from what he remembered in chasing this far east, 75 would take him as far as Cinncinati before he'd have to jump on 71 to go to Lousiville. He had almost nine straight hours of driving, but he had the few benefits that with it being past the morning rush time for any city he passes through, most of the traffic should be light.

That was the case up until he was just north of Woodhaven when traffic came to a standstill. He was rolling past the Ford Motor factory, possibly the place Shrieker was birthed from, listening to the radio about a small pile-up involving two tractor-trailers that got mixed up during the heavy fog just past the off ramps. Traffic was getting routed around and across the road that bisected the highway, but Lincoln felt it was better to get off now. Liam's farm was just a couple miles away, and he could take a lesser road to reach it. He had covered a 40-minute drive in just 20; he could have time to spare at this rate.

Heading down a few blocks, he got onto the southbound of Telegraph Road, Route 24. Travel down it to past the town of Flat Rock, and cut back East towards Newport. He'd be there in less than ten minutes at this rate.

But the further he drove, the more and more Lincoln felt like his mind was like one of those city-builder games. Start small and concentrated, well maintained with resources and services covered. But now it was expanding at such a rate those resources and services were in chaos trying to cover the new ground.

He imagined today having several parts, each a step in his plan. He got lucky with the first part, but he knew soon that luck wouldn't last for long. The situation with Bobby had gone as smoothly as possibly planned, but the trip through Royal Woods, running into Chandler, wasting time, and possibly risking everything stopping at his old house. He struggled to imagine all that possibilities could have happened had he knocked on that door and someone answered.

And with his dad, he succeeded in his goal of delivering the needed documents, but at the same time possibly lying to his own face. What kind of son would stand there when their father is literally begging them just to come home? It made him angry and sick. After everything that's happened to the family, this is how he goes about the first time meeting any of them in four years. Making them cry in his arms with an empty promise to back up an older one he didn't think he would fulfill like this? He saw his father in the mirror step after him before he left the gas station; he could see him still pleading for his son to stop and turn around.

Oh, how it was so tempting… Part of himself wanted to vomit the first moment he had the opportunity to stop somewhere to feel any of the sickness within get out of his body like it would make it all go away. He could feel himself losing it again and instantly threw open the glovebox. Darting his eyes back and forth between the road and shifting through the leftover papers, his hand grasped around a blue pill bottle. Holding it between his leg and the console, he popped the cap off and dumped three raisin-sized tablets in hand. He'd prefer to have it get chased down with some cold water, but he could care less right now.

It'd be an hour before those would kick in. He was practically operating empty since he got out of Missouri, and just those in his gut weren't doing his system any favors it was asking for.

Dropping the bottle back in and slamming the lid closed, Lincoln firmly gripped the steering wheel as he took a few slow and deep breaths.

"... what the hell am I thinking?" He spoke to anyone that was nowhere to be seen.

"You really weren't from how that show went. "A voice answered right behind him.

Lincoln's eyes shot to his rearview mirror and felt like they had nearly burst from his skull when he saw another pair of eyes staring right back at him.

"GGGAAAHHHH!" He snapped his eyes over his shoulder, not thinking as his hands jerked the wheel violently to the right.

Snapping back forward, Lincoln tried to get his tank back under control after he nearly went right off the road. Over correcting to avoid plowing into a car pulling out from a Burger King, skidding across the left lane into part of the center, slamming onto the brakes as the back wheels screamed with burning rubber as the truck was directed onto the first road that didn't have a car present.

Ripping across Joyce Road, the tank sent dust clouds and flying grass and gravel as it rested in a clearing. Lincoln felt like he was a half-second away from a full-on heart attack when he looked back at the person sitting in the backseat, who looked back at him with a look that spoke of nothing about him possibly causing a crash.

"KID, WHERE THE HELL DID YOU COME FROM?!"

---

(Note: These AN notes are written before, during, and after hand to convey my thinking. Not based on what's changed, reviews, etc., and is borderline me ranting out loud my way of thinking.)

So originally, I didn't intend to release this chapter this early until I got the next one further done like my original plan is, but ever since FFN went down in the middle of September for some reason my story has not been updated for the past several days. I don't know if this is just a glitch or if the fact is my story is dead in the viewing sense (to which, I guess, that it is then).

This chapter was supposed to be combined with Chapter 12, but by the size both became, that was obviously not something I was looking forward to in repeating Chapter 10 on an even larger scale. Yet right after I finished the second to last part and the word count broke 21k with a whole chunk still to write, I realized afterward I wrote myself right past that idea.

So here is the second biggest chapter I've ever written. (Maybe THE biggest if you want to combine Chapter 12 with it as planned.)

One issue I plan to one day fix if the available information is ever released is the fact that the exact layout of Royal Woods is based on where cartoon logic dictates things to be. The mall could be just 15 minutes or 15 miles away for all the plot concerns about. So I tried thinking more of how large suburban areas like west Detroit would be set up. I figured that with the location of Flip's/Phil's and Lynn's Table would be in places meant to maximize customer traffic; it would be much closer to the inner city. If one day someone makes and exact map of streets and locations for the town, I'll go back and rewrite this chapter.

(Note: These AN notes are written before, during, and after hand to convey my thinking. Not based on what's changed, reviews, etc., and is borderline me ranting out loud my way of thinking.)