Sins In Twisters
Chapter 30: What I Am With
With the darkness of night cloaking the land again, the rain had become a more steady trickle. But the air was becoming bitter, and a cold wind was picking up, signs that everyone was in for an early winter.
For the rest of the afternoon, the feeling in the house transformed from the gray world they walked into to something much more lively. The many smells of fresh cooking and the warmth it brought flowed from the kitchen into the living room, and the air was filled with classic rock music playing loud enough to hear around but not too much to drown out voices.
While tending to clean up some parts around the house, Sam couldn't help looking into the kitchen and resisting not giggling or being consumed in laughter. Say what you will about the rest of the day, but in some ways, she didn't think of it as Lincoln being once again in his element.
He had a pep in his step she hadn't seen in years as he slid over from one part of the kitchen to another. He tended to a boiling pot of potatoes with a sizzling pan of mixed vegetables on the side. Sprinkling a pinch of pepper and giving it a quick stir to spread out, he snatched a pair of oven mitts, reaching back into the lower cabinets below, pulled out a cooling rack, and flicked it open. Plopping it down, he opened the oven and was greeted by a blast of heat. Checking on a pan of bubbling refried beans with the top layered with shredded cheddar, he smiled as he carefully pulled it out and placed it on the rack.
Closing the door and switching it off, he reached over and shut off the burner with the potatoes. He gently picked it up to hold it above a filter in the skin, tipping it over to allow the water to flow and not take the payload with it. A blast of steam erupted from the sink as he got all he could. It went back to the stove, and to the fridge he'd go to pull out some milk and creamer.
The main was still taking its time, so it gave him the time to get to work making some really fluffy mashed potatoes that you could take spoonfuls of and down without chewing. He knew Sam had some garlic powder somewhere in here and figured that, with a balance, he could make it all that more flavorful.
It wasn't exactly what he'd constitute as a 'nice rounded meal' like his father proud himself would make. Living alone, he understood why Sam didn't have reasons to have this, and that was when she only used it once in a blue moon. So, he was limited in what he had to get creative with. He saw it more as filling than lavishing, but that didn't stop him from spicing the flavor. The portions themselves would have been enough for a family of five to eat it fresh and have two more servings left for later, but that was his doing in knowing after the last couple of days…
He was hungry.
And ran the math in to make sure they had plenty tonight, and Sam had something for the next two days to not really worry about cooking. Not even the dishes. Waiting for stuff to boil or cool while others were not ready gave him some time to keep the sink from stacking up.
It kept him busy, took his mind off other things, and brought him back to something he hadn't been able to do for months, aside from microwaving take-out or noodle cups when he could hold it down. He was making something filling for the day for two. If he wasn't, there wouldn't be much left for tomorrow.
Though in keeping him busy, he did kind of butt Sam out of the kitchen. It wasn't by 'force'; the two looked around to see what they could make. They slowly started gathering pieces until Sam realized Lincoln had taken over. It was enough work for one person, and seeing him like this, who was she to interrupt him having an excellent time?
It reminded him a lot of the old times. He might not be the kitchen master like his dad, but having to cook for so many people, whether it be his family when he volunteered, guests, or when the whole team and friends were gathered at the farm, he'd be maybe with Clyde preparing a biweekly summer feast. It was like storm chasing, having to collect all the ingredients to come together, letting it cook over time as they waited, and hoping the end result of all that waiting was something incredible.
However, after months, he became a little rusty. He couldn't move like he used to, but it didn't stop him.
From the corner of his eye, he saw Sam passing by on her own little mission. Catching his gaze, she slowed enough to smile, which he gave in return.
When he returned to prepare the potatoes, Sam watched a little longer before heading back to the laundry room to tend to some things. It honestly was amusing to see Lincoln do such a turnaround. From earlier in the hospital, he was practically oozing out that youthful energy he had been missing the whole time.
In a fresh pair of jeans and a red shirt, she was surprised to see he really didn't have his signature orange polo anymore. Aside from his jacket, from the back and sides, he honestly looked like a father goofing off in the kitchen, dancing to the music in ways that would make anyone feel a little embarrassed but still have the energy to maybe join in.
But get rid of that beard, get a good haircut, and get a lot more sleep. He looked and acted just like the Lincoln Loud she remembered.
It gave her some much-needed joy today, but it also brought with it so many more questions.
She understood that people change as they grow up. Five years ago, she was there to see Lincoln go from an adventurous brother working his way into the world to someone standing guard for his family during hard times the whole world experienced. Two years after that, he was still the same but becoming different. If it was from his detachment from his home or the stress of his work, she wasn't sure.
Today had shown her two ends of that spectrum, but it felt like so much more was missing…
When it came time for dinner, Lincoln was already moving items to the dining table before she could even sit down.
A plate and utensils, a cup of cold water with a pitcher on the side already greeted her as he put a big bowl of steaming mashed potatoes between where they sat. Set in a line down the center for easy reach as the beans and vegetables came together. The last piece, a pan of unfrozen salisbury steak Sam didn't know, was populating her freeze door. Was it the best option? It's probably not, but Lincoln felt they needed something with actual meat other than turning this into a glorified salad bar. Plus, they weren't in any mood to go out to the store. It was enough to satisfy both parties. She wasn't going to turn down a freshly cooked meal like this, even if she was supposed to be the one to cook for her 'guest'.
Serving each other as they wanted, the afternoon from that point became a lot less energetic and entered a more relaxed state she wished it had started with.
"For not having much, this is pretty damn good." She said, scarfing down a loaded fork of veggie-embedded mash. A bit surprised by how the mixture was soft yet had a strange chew that seemed to have a pinch of spice flare-up with every little bite she took.
"I'm used to having to work with little on hand," Lincoln commented, taking a large spoon to scoop up some of the gravy from the steaks and pour it over his mound. Though I did wish I could have made proper gravy for this. You'd be surprised by the miracles I can whip up in the kitchen. Hell, one time, I had to go a step further as a make-up dinner for Clyde after a chase.
"Oh, this sounds interesting. What happened?" she asked, though caution stood on guard. Sam hoped that keeping him remembering times that were a bit kinder to him could help him open up more.
"Hehe, well, it was back in 2024 when the Midwest was tornado central for days; we were running around all over Nebraska and Iowa trying to get as many intercepts as possible. It was just three vehicles, and Ronnie Anne had gotten back up a few days ago, so we were readjusting to the norm. We're sitting in Iowa, waiting for this fast-moving storm to drop; we had good roads and were in a spot with little rain. We were either to follow along or, at best, get one intercept and get stuck behind." He took a quick scoop of potatoes and downed it with some water before continuing.
"It drops, and this thin but utterly disgustingly beautiful multivortex stovepipe is tearing up the land, and you see all these mini-tornadoes circling around it. I wanted to get in it. So Clyde's finding me a road while the others are setting up, we're flying down side roads as it's tearing apart a wind farm, and the others are setting up and following with drones. Clyde gets us on a side road. Rex adjusts our position, and we lock down. It's getting bigger and is probably two minutes away from us when someone on the radio yells to us, 'Wind speeds are over 90 meters a second!', basically kissing 200 mph."
Lincoln chuckled, but it died out quickly. He could remember hearing Clyde yelling on the radio that—he shook his head—forcing that day away that wouldn't come for some time. This day was a better one than that.
"Storm Shrieker is hard-rated to handle 180 safely. The 20-mile difference might not sound much, but you have no idea where that 200 can be inside that funnel or how long you'll get hit. It could be above us the whole time and not touch at all or so low it's digging a trench towards you. We could survive for a few seconds, but any longer… If it's strong enough to wipe out a whole town to the foundations, it's strong enough to wipe us out. The thing is, it takes triple the time to undeploy than it does to drop everything. So even if we tried to, we'd be more exposed when it reached us. So we stayed put. Held on for the ride..."
His thoughts felt like they were disintegrating as he thought of the moment. He was mentally smacking himself for bringing something like that up before Sam.
But the more he spoke, the more vividly he remembered that day like it was earlier this week. They were riding high on a massively successful year so far. April had given as many chances as all of 2023, and May was shaping up to be the same. Ronnie had returned home early in the month after riding with them most of April, but she promised to pop back down in June. Afterward, the whole team was dialed in. The May 19th to 27th outbreak was a phenomenal time to chase, and it got them their then-record of 32 tornadoes out of 247, 8 of which were direct hits.
Everything was running on all cylinders. Morale was high, and big money was coming in, but they were getting tired. The day's weather was likely in Oklahoma, where a few days they could more casually chase. Still, once you start getting to Arkansas, Missouri, Iowa, and further multiple times in a year, you're bound to start wearing down. Eventually, there'll come a day when it cracks and breaks apart, and you will see when to ease up on them.
Mid-chew, Sam could see a crack forming. The look in his eyes as he stared off somewhere during his tale was full of that glee, but it was changing. Hints of what happened earlier were visible, and she put down her food.
"It was coming over a hill when it hit something big. Debris went everywhere, and the funnel got more violent. An oil barrel came flying at us, nearly hit the windshield, going 100 after someone did the math watching the recordings, and hit a tree off to our right so hard it snapped it in half. At that point, it's over the hill, coming right at us. It's seconds away, and I'm scrambling into the back to man my camera; Clyde is losing his mind, and the gauge on the dashboard is losing its mind. He's shouting out wind speeds and freaking out cause the gauge had 210 plus on it, and I make it louder when I open the hatch to film. Twister is on top of us, destroys a brick warehouse or something, and rolls a tractor-trailer in front of us. It's full of shrapnel now, and I'm in the back smiling like it's Christmas morning."
Lincoln leaned back in his chair, a broad smile on his face, shaking his head as he looked down at his plate. It eased the air around them. Sam sighed in relief, thinking either the memory had a happier ending or he was keeping himself away from the negative ones.
"... probably 15 seconds after that, we go inside. I'm getting pelted by dirt and rain. It got dark fast, and debris bounced off the driver's side, making sparks. It's chaos… We were inside for about 20 seconds before it moved on away from us. But damn, what a time it was… After it was about a mile away, I hopped out of the back and cheered it on. The others were coming up to meet us, and we were celebrating, and when I looked back, I saw Clyde coming out…" Lincoln's voice trailed off again, the cracks in his eyes growing. "He looked ready to be sick… It was not the first time since we started, but… that time felt different…. I tried to see what it was, but he looked so… scared. We had gotten about 20 intercepts before and tripled the number of tornadoes we'd gotten close to, some more terrifying than others. We were shaken but came out smiling. Here he looked… so afraid. He and Rex traded places for the rest of the day. We followed it for a little while until it hit the town of Greenfield, and our chase ended there…"
From there, most of May was spent taking stock and taking a break. There were more tornadoes afterward; they were only halfway through the outbreak, but things were more widespread and scattered going further and further eastward. Almost ten straight days to rest, repair, and evaluate until they chased a small outbreak in Texas on the 30th. With how June was setting up long-term, Ronnie rejoined them, but Clyde…
He couldn't blame Clyde for what happened.
"It took a day of me trying to coax it out of him; once we got back to home base and settled down, he told me how that didn't feel right. That I willingly went into something we saw and heard was beyond what we would deem safe to intercept. We're overly cautious in picking something that has winds above maybe 140 or 150; someone screaming it's 200 is enough for any competent person to pack up and get the hell out of the way."
It was his fault on that day. He was so excited about the past successes that his adrenaline was on overdrive. Had he immediately gotten back into his seat and undeploy, they would have pressed on after that tornado or caught up to the EF2 the storm spawned a little later. That whole outbreak was what really inspired him to try to set and break the most intercepts ever achieved by a single man.
To go down in history with a number to his name…
"He wanted to take a break. Head back up home to his dads and spend a bit of the summer with them. I couldn't argue with that and even drove him to the airport two days later. But before that, I used all my cooking skills to make him one helluva farewell meal—some of his favorites with a little Oklahoma spin to them. I surprised myself with some things, especially because I made enough for us to have steady leftovers for four days. We had a big laugh, had a bit of a party that night, and from there, things slowed down until the next storm came thundering down the plains."
He didn't mean to put them at that kind of risk.
Chasing any tornado was a massive risk, even to most professional people with decades of experience and the best technology available. That spinning little dust devil tossing tumbleweeds across the road could explode into something, ripping the asphalt off that road along you. The Dow truck, the R-Pods, Erin, and Rex gave them that extra safety net to decide whether to go in or not. They were helping coordinate the show, but Lincoln was the lead they followed regardless of who was physically driving.
They had plenty of near-miss scares in the past, and a lot of 2022 was them in KnightOne getting stupidly close, with their only protection being extra weight and prototype outriggers. Even with Storm Shrieker, they had chased violent and deadly storms alone, and they'd sit back to let it pass when people in regular sedans and SUVs kept racing past.
From Day 1, Lincoln knew that it was their choice to come out there with him, but it was his responsibility to keep everyone safe…
"I thought on that day he did want to quit... After all we've been through up until then, I wouldn't blame him. If he wanted to go do his own thing, I'd support him just like he did with me for so many years…" Lincoln closed his eyes and sighed. He shook his head as he remembered more and more of how that week turned into the rest of the season and how it somehow circled back to last June.
He trusted his best friend's judgment. It's why he had him in the radar truck with Erin and Shay when they were chasing the latter third of the season. Storms got a bit thin in pickings, but with all their combined minds, led to some incredible chases. Even if that last one broke everything…
"But, that's honestly enough of me talking. What about you? Aside from our few meet-ups, you guys were making big waves in the music industry before and now." he said, loading up his fork with a piece of steak and a scoop of potatoes to quell his growing hunger after telling his story.
Taking a sip of water, Sam hadn't realized she had eaten most of her whole meal while listening. Transfixed on how he recalled a memory that made him swing so rapidly between emotions she could see in his eyes. The cracks were growing in numbers but not splitting open like they had before his freak-out. It made her relax just a bit, yet the more he talked towards the end, the more she could see where that part of him came from.
Reading that 'brief' description of Kingman, it was only about what impacts had happened to people like Lincoln on that day. It spoke about a past event, and so much of the page was dedicated to the storm itself; it surprised her that such an event had already come and gone. Something that big and significant, something she would suspect people would still be talking about.
But part of her reminded her it was just like a concert. A big one with so much build-up was packed beyond the brim that when things started lighting up, the whole place shook even after the end. People would be talking about it for days, weeks, and months on end. It could have been the ultimate event for some, but it would never match in the future, or it would just be a high note in a list of others that were awaiting the next one to be announced.
She… laughed. It made Lincoln look away from his meal with a raised brow, looking at her, confused at what the joke was or what he had just missed.
"It's nothing," She waved it off, leaning back in her seat, "I just had a thought that's… a bit ironic."
"How so?" Lincoln asked, taking a bite.
"Rockstar or storm chaser… so much traveling. So much planning… Gotta be in the right place on time with things ready for a big event with what you've spent your 'off time' getting ready for others to see and hear. You're worried before it starts, nervous at first, but once it gets moving, you ride with the flow."
Thinking it over, Lincoln chuckled at how chasing had been compared to many other things: "Heh, Yeah. Though, some chasers take it a bit too far with their ego and overhype screaming on camera. They make the rest of the community look a bit crazy."
"A bit crazy?" She countered, asking the man who owned a tornado tank.
"Okay, a bit crazier," Lincoln admitted. The two shared a light laugh as Sam started her own little adventure down memory road.
"Well… jeez, where is there to start…. You already knew so much about how we got rolling and all that jazz. We didn't really reach international status as we thought, but touring the country wasn't that bad." She shrugged, "Honestly, it was cool visiting so many places. Even if you stopped at the same place again after some time, something was bound to be new."
"Seeing places you only saw in photos or videos, not knowing just how big and wondrous they are until you're suddenly walking up to it in person face to face."
"Yeah…" There were a lot of places she got to see on tour that, in most other cases, she really wouldn't have had the chance to. Why would you want to go to Vegas other than gamble? There was the chance to ride down The Strip at night, see the life beyond the city, and maybe try and get chased off trying to sneak into Area 51.
That's the craziness that Nevada could give a group of young adults.
After a night of partying, so many hotel rooms were destroyed that she wondered if Luna got her energy from being so hyped about music or if it was the fact that it ran in her family's blood. The Louds ran on some supernatural power. She was sure they could make a fortune selling it if they found a way to bottle it up.
"It was like… so many old childhood dreams coming true. Sure, some weren't as huge and exciting as ten years ago, but then were the times like… like…"
"Like that mega concert in Dallas?"
"Oh my god, yes..." she exclaimed, holding a hand over her eyes at the memory of what could be considered their band's finest hour. It was an event back in September 2023 as part of another rock festival. The main attraction was some of the more highly known bands and performers as part of the headliners, but they had at least a dozen more bands synced in.
It was near the end when the whole event devolved into something akin to a battle of the bands, but when you're doing a personal cover of one of those band's top songs, and they join in with you, and suddenly that cover becomes so much more original and impactful. It's something you wish you could go back and relive for the first time all over again.
"It was- wait a minute. How did you know about that?" she asked, wondering how he mentioned that random event.
"It was an outdoor venue, right?" She looked around, thinking before nodding, "Well, you recall being delayed halfway through?"
"Because of a lightning storm somewhere out east. Everyone could see it for miles, even with all the stage lights. Someone even said to turn them off and let the storm light up the show."
"I wasn't too far away then," Lincoln commented, sliding the last of his potatoes around the plate to the leftover gravy. "Tornado season was over for me in late August. I thought there was a chance when systems started popping up around the Fort Worth region, and I chased solo that day. I didn't get any twisters from the system being too dry, but I got a front-row seat to watch the show."
"So then, why didn't you come to the show? God, could you imagine it? The lightning, like Thor himself, was watching our performance, the crowd stomping with the drums, and right as it all comes together…" Sam said, dreaming of what the whole event could have been like.
"The ultimate storm of a rock concert." Lincoln joked, "But I don't think I wouldn't have the best of additions. My singing voice is really up there where it used to be anymore…" Or at all, really.
He couldn't remember the last time his vocal cords got put to high use like he did when he was a kid. There were the occasional odd moments when he or someone close would break out into a song about something, or the most he remembered the days leading up to the family trip to Scotland and accidentally taking Clyde's place in the solo for the Glee Club's competition, but after all that his pipes never had the reason to be let loose.
"Yeah… but," Sam looked away from the clouds to him, "I could imagine the whole world would have heard us with a voice like you and Luna's."
Sam knew he had it within him. She knew 'he' knew he had it within him. She could list the times accidentally or when he wanted an audience to show his talent, especially when he had pipes when he was 11. When he put his heart into it, you'd be amazed. Had he been a few years older back then, and maybe had Luna trained him in his vocals, she could see them being one helluva duet.
Lincoln weakly chuckled, "Maybe in another life…" he scraped up the last of his meal. The plate was stripped clean of every little bit of crumb he could get. He was ready for the second serving but lost his appetite. As he got up to start putting stuff away, he got a few steps away before his chuckle morphed into a steady laugh like he was just reminded of an inside joke.
"What's funny now?" Sam quipped, getting up to take her plate to the sink.
"Nothing…" he shook his head, "but this whole dinner… it kinda reminded me of things back home. Back in Royal Woods when we were still all young…. All at the table talking about how our day went. All the big things that happened and planning for…" his voice trailed off quietly. He placed his dishes into the sink and got the soap and water going. Closing his eyes, he put his hands on the counter's edge to hold himself up as he looked away.
Hearing that, a sad smile flashed onto Sam's features as she reached down to place her items in the sink. Hearing the sincerity in his voice like he had before, it was more of that old Lincoln she knew was still there. But he spoke like it was a distant memory.
Maybe it was for them all. That's the consequence of time and growing up. But that didn't mean all those times had to be just memories. She knew the second her folks knew about this, they'd be here by morning… actually, she forgot to call them. Chances are they've been trying to contact her but didn't know she was using her old phone, which had been dead for most of the time. But even if they showed up unannounced, if it was just them or the whole family, they could spend the time together like they were before.
Lincoln had that entire opportunity. Being on the road so much, she couldn't imagine he wasn't homesick to the tiniest degree. Unless some harsh tragedy, bad blood, or threat forced them to stay apart, she couldn't see why Lincoln wasn't always home with his sisters…
"You know about the tornado from yesterday, do you?" she softly asked.
He slowly nodded his head. "Then why not go back? After a good night's rest and breakfast tomorrow, head back up there. Maybe I can tag along after getting some things around here first."
Lincoln's eyes flashed open and shot a glance towards Sam but quickly looked back to the bubbling mass in the sink. He was almost blinded by the images of what that whole day could entail. Everything but the latter part he planned on, but going back…
He shook his head again. There wasn't much more he could think of that could directly help with. If he knew Lisa was anything, it was being prepared. Whatever she had made that helped them all, from the funds he sent, got the whole family back on track as it had never even physically happened. He was sure by now his dad and mom were going through the papers (if they hadn't lost them…) and realizing that he had their future prepared in the event something like this happened.
And Lily…
He could feel his fingers trying to dig into the countertop. His heartbeat picked up, and he took quick and quiet breaths to calm himself… Like he thought before, his family was more prepared now than ever without him. It would take time, as all things do. But the difference was that he knew she had the whole family, not just those in Royal Woods but her classmates, neighbors, and friends, all in one spot to be by her side.
Not someone who thought chasing the weather was more important…
Yet… having someone to ride with on the long journey did sound nice… He could see Sam filling in as a decent co-pilot if he squinted hard enough. She was good with technology, still had that adventurous attitude that could really brighten up the vehicle, and had experience dealing with the long mileage that came with it. Many people solo chased, and he was adapting everything and himself to be independent. However, having task saturation between everything put a toll on what he could focus on and decide. Maybe it'd be like riding with an old friend if she weren't busy in the spring.
He couldn't ask that… Not everyone was cut out to chase like he does. Clyde was adapted to it like him, Ronnie had that natural taste for the extreme, Sam… she was so much like Luna he couldn't ask something like that. One interaction with a twister is enough for anyone in their lifetime. The further they stayed away from Tornado Alley, the further they stayed away from him… the safer they'd be.
He knew that another storm would inevitably spawn another monster from the sky one day. Nashville had been hit 25 times in the last 25 years, and there was no doubt it wouldn't happen again. Royal Woods might have gone almost a decade without a tornado in the town limits, but that didn't mean outbreaks could pop up across the state. He couldn't stop them. He wasn't God or had Mother Nature on speed dial to ask for her to put that storm somewhere else. All he could do was prepare everyone for when it eventually came…
The longer Lincoln didn't answer, the more Sam worried she might have stepped a bit further than she should have. But it was eating away at her to no end today.
Why won't he go home? What would it take to convince him? If she had a car and someone to help carry it out, she could put him to sleep and toss him in the back seat of her car, and she could get them as close as possible. Pulling an all-nighter is nothing new for her, a bit uncommon nowadays, but she could still do it with enough caffeine. Minus the fact she had no car… maybe she could use the tank? She'd never driven a diesel before, but hey, she'd have to figure it out all night.
When Lincoln's only follow-up response was to shut the water off and turn to collect the food off the table for later, his earlier step seemed to have diminished. It was there but with the added layer of reality. A crack had formed when he talked about the memory of a family dinner, but out of all she had seen, this was the one that cracked open. He was fighting to close it back up, and the more he kept himself occupied putting the leftovers away in a hurry and going to the dishes, the crack closed up a little bit.
With so much already in containers and the dishes at a minimum, his occupation didn't last long until he put the last plate onto the drying rack and reached for a rag to dry himself. He didn't want to acknowledge it physically, but he could tell Sam was reading him. He blamed his past emotions for that open window letting everything out in the world. Sometimes, it was better to be quiet, keep your chin down, and stay out of the way or keep to yourself. But not him. He didn't know if it was from how emotionally charged his family was or from how he had grown up. Either way, it would have rubbed off him from all the years eleven kids under one roof would do.
Sam, seeing how he felt in line with so much of his interaction with his sister and Sam interacting so closely with Luna, felt like some weird triangle that had a connection point to the three of them.
Maybe he was trying too hard for some things, but others felt he wasn't trying enough to hold it in. Sam reminded him so much of Luna that he felt it was sometimes a bit jarring. He still sees Sam as the person she is, but in the same place, he sees his big sister. Looking out for him, being by his side during a horrible moment, she did what she could to help. It warmed his heart in a way he hadn't for a while.
It felt… nice to feel that again…
"Want to watch a movie? Burn some time and relax?" Sam asked as she plopped back onto the couch, fetching the remote. The TV flickering to life as a catalog of everything from shows and movies slowly scrolled by.
A movie sounded nice… something to watch for the next two hours and digest before bed. Let the entertainment be the focus of the rest of the night. Nothing more.
"Yeah… movie sounds nice," he replied, liking the idea of having a more solid distraction like cooking had given him.
Heading back into the dining room to snatch their drinks and the pitcher before moving around the front of the TV to avoid bumping into Sam's legs and pushing his camera towards the far end, where he sat mainly in the middle with all his gear on one side and Sam on the other. They had plenty of space on the couch; if he moved it, one of them could lie down and still have room. Just sitting where they did, they had space, but the second he leaned back and, for once since getting here and sitting down, he did feel himself let go and sink into the cushions.
Amused by how relaxed he looked, Sam leaned back on the armrest and let herself go. "Anything in particular?" she asked, sliding to some selections of her personal choices, trends, and new releases.
"Surprise me." Lincoln mused, "Just no disaster flicks."
Leaving the ball in her court, Sam pondered what could be good. Lincoln was right; they've had enough disasters recently. Watching what Hollywood tries to copy doesn't really fit well…
… even if the following line of movies she went down to started with Twister, then Dante's Peak, and then 30 others she quickly swiped away from. She didn't want something overly corny or seem like she picked it for his sake…
So she went with a comedy. After settling in and having the entertainment center's lights give the room a relaxing glow, the two had a peaceful time, broken by the bursts of laughter from watching Tropic Thunder. The two especially had a blast as Les delivered his oh-so-famous death threat as if he was having a bad Monday, though it didn't stop Lincoln from commenting about some things like the scenes and camera set up here and there that had Sam lightly hit his arm a few times to be quiet and watch.
And they did just that, not bothering to get any snacks and content enough to sit there. Neither of the two knew who did it first or ended it when they gradually adjusted and found themselves leaning against each other for a bit, only to separate into different positions. The contact was brief, and the actions barely registered by the pair, but the brief feeling they shared in those moments felt much more comforting than either would have thought.
At the end of the film, it was nearly 8 p.m. It was a bit early for their taste, but you couldn't deny that after the last two days, going to bed felt like a fantastic idea for both of them.
Packing things up for another time, Lincoln took an armful of fresh clothes and dipped into the bathroom for a much-needed shower. Thanks to some tricks he learned out on the road, he had gone without smelling like a walking garbage dump. Aside from staying clean with fresh clothes, he felt he needed to wash the grim of everything that had physically or mentally built upon him.
While enjoying a hot shower that didn't involve him almost collapsing from the degree of heat he had the knobs cranked to that there probably wouldn't be any hot water for the rest of the night, Sam was getting ready to hit the sack early but first had to prepare. In a two-bedroom house where there was only one and the need for something like a retractable couch-bed, or a blow-up mattress hadn't been part of her list of things to ever really need, she was picking apart whatever she could pull from the closest.
Grabbing an armful of blankets and one of the extra pillows from her bed, she dumped the load on the side of the couch just as the bathroom door swung open in a cloud of steam. She wasn't prepared when Lincoln stepped out, shutting the light off on the way, that he had given himself a bit more than just a basic clean-up. While dressed in a white undershirt becoming soaked in places and blue jeans that were only temporary, he had a visible brightness to him that seemed to have an aurora of its own when she noticed his white hair didn't look so grayed as before being slicked back.
How it got so shiny again made her question whether he didn't clean his hair that much or her choice of soap and conditioners was just that powerful. He still had that shadow across his chin, but he had taken the time to clean up the angles a bit more so that the stubble was more boxed along his cheeks and a little less around the chin. It was more of a strap across his face without any sign of a mustache, but it still gave that textured look that made his age seem like he had somehow lost a decade after stepping into that bathroom.
She could see so much of that old Lincoln… and more of what she remembered as the 'new' Lincoln. He still had those bags and wrinkles under his eyes, and his skin was paler than usual but had that shine back. It'd take some time for him to bulk back up, but he was still pretty lean toward someone of his stature. Honestly, if she didn't know him as much as she did before, she'd have to say-
"You okay, Sam?" Lincoln asked, breaking her away from her thoughts.
"What?" she asked confused.
"You're blushing… you're blushing even more now."
Confused by what he meant, it took her a moment to feel the warmth in her growing, and she quickly looked away, "Sorry. I-"
"It's fine," he said, coming up to her side and patting her shoulder, "hehe, it wouldn't be the first time."
"Heh. Yeah… first time…" she repeated, puzzled and strangely curious by what he meant by that, but some dots connected so fast she shook her head.
Feeling her blush increase, she was thankful Lincoln had already moved onto the couch and didn't see it. Shifting the pile of blankets to the opposite end, he dropped his armload of old clothes into his duffle bag and shoved it underneath the window along with the rest of his gear. Watching as he pulled the entangled mess apart to make his beg, several ideas flashed forward into Sam's mind. Some were a bit less innocent, only made her demand them to stop, and others were a bit more open.
"If you want… you can have my bed, and I'll take the couch. Something more comfortable for my friend since I lacked the foresight to have a spare room available."
"Sam, I've slept in that thing," he pointed a thumb toward Storm Shrieker's direction, "with the doors open and just a sleeping bag on the floor. Last night, I only slept in the front seat. The couch is enough for me."
"Are you sure?" She asked, a bit gloomy. Hoping his mind could be changed, she pouted a little, hoping the display would sway him.
"I'm sure. Here," he reached for his duffle bag, shifting around until he heard the sound of jingling metal. He surprised her by tossing his mound of keys to her, "just so that you know I won't sneak out at night."
Unsure of feeling frightened or disappointed that he'd actually consider just bailing in the middle of the night. This assured her that he, hopefully, didn't have a hidden key somewhere and was staying true to his word. As he started setting up his bed, she tried to come up with something else to get him to trade places, but after a moment, after all she had witnessed today, she blamed it on that old Loud stubbornness.
Lincoln had rarely used it like this since childhood, but it was in good fate. Finishing up his set-up and plopping down in the middle again, he pulled his laptop back towards him, flipping it open and switching over to his actual video editor.
"Still staying up for a bit?" Sam asked.
"I'm… going to be up for a bit longer," he said, glancing over his shoulder. "I figured I'd try to get some work done before passing out. I can get a jump start on it once I get home."
"Alright… and Lincoln,"
"Hmm-?" He looked up in time to be surprised by Sam pulling into a deep hug like the one earlier. Laying her head on his shoulder and giving a tight squeeze with her free arm as she even caught a brief scent, "Have a good night," she said quietly next to his ear. Slowly pulling away, she gave him one last smile for the night.
A bit flustered but in a better state of mind, he gave her a soft smile and said, "You too…"
… that was roughly four hours ago, and Lincoln was as wide awake as he had been then.
It had been from a lack of trying… He wasn't wrong in that he had actually started to get more work down, but not for his footage. For the first half hour after, Sam disappeared into her room and didn't come out; he did. Then, he immediately switched to one of several sites the Foundation ran on. Going through his admin access and checking on the status of things, he typed up a nearly 2000-word email to be sent to 16 different groups to get people sent to Royal Woods.
There were a few replies requesting details that he gladly filled out. Confirmation of things being put into motion tonight or tomorrow morning with a project arrival date by Friday at minimum. It was too long of a wait for his taste, but he had to accept it was how fast an overworked system could achieve.
After that, he spent more time rechecking the statistics. On day two of the outbreak, 41 tornadoes were confirmed to add to the 82 yesterday. The strongest so far were two more EF4s in Ohio and Virginia. The Evansville storm was graded to a mid-range EF4 with chances of high-end possible. Nashville's rating is still firm and will likely be locked by tomorrow.
Yet Royal Woods still held its current rating.
More details regarding the damage have been coming out. The path was noted for having several loops during the last several miles, possibly failing to conclude at points. Some damage that was getting the plausible EF5 rating was found to be in sporadic arcs not following with the core itself. Photos and videos were limited in seeing the storm up close at that point, and some pointed to how the school had a narrow cut straight through the building as the work of a strong internal suction vortice riding around the inside.
The injury count increased, but the death toll remained zero. Something he had hoped would be enough to help him sleep a little easier tonight.
But he just couldn't…
After digging around for all he could find, he knew it'd be a couple of days before all the info was set in stone. The outbreak was expected to continue tomorrow, but the conditions were becoming less and less favorable for tornadoes, so he felt he wouldn't be missing much on that front anymore. He saw more photos of the tornadoes from today and thought he had gotten his fill of updated info for the night. Packing his laptop away with the rest of his gear that was charging off every available power outlet he could find and hoped Sam didn't mind the spike in her power bill.
Within an hour, he got up to shut the lights off and lay in the darkness with the blanket just up to his stomach, one hand lying on top and one behind his head, staring up at the swirling patterns on the ceiling to try to dizzy himself out.
Just after 10:20, he felt slightly more tired, but that was it. He laughed at how he had been awake for so many days struggling to stay awake, knowing his biological clock was severely out of sync, but he hoped that 12 hour nap earlier would have been enough to bounce back. He's had days when he slept longer and maybe only awake for five hours before sleeping ten more. Counting how many swirl patterns he could see from the faint light from the kitchen, seeing which direction they spiraled into, which one was bigger or had more groves, was his attempt at counting sheep.
It made him a bit dizzy, and his eyes hurt, but it wasn't enough. The moment he tried readjusting, he somehow accidentally hit a reset button and went right back to square one.
Now, it was approaching 1 a.m., and Lincoln felt he was walking in the opposite direction from where he wanted to go. Rubbing his face and sore eyes, he took stock of everything he could think of.
"Okay, Loud… let's see what you've managed to accomplish and fucked up this year…"
Starting with the first three months, it was standard operations. The season was a little hit or miss this year compared to the last two in terms of consecutive days to chase, but they made up for the number of storms on those days. They already had a jumpstart in breaking their intercept record; Dow 6 was steadily being rebuilt to their needs even after its 2024 overhaul. It took a bit longer to get it in the field, but better late than never and yet in the nick of time. Shrieker's systems were being fine-tuned, the camera crew for the show was preparing itself, and their budget was more stable than ever after an on-and-off winter, and many of them were ready to get on the road.
He knew Clyde enjoyed his time with Shay even when on the road. It was obvious to them all, no matter how much they tried to be subtle about it. It was impossible for them not to tease about it when he'd try to shut it down on the way to a target area. It wasn't over similar interests, a chef and a weather girl, but how they interacted made him happy that his best friend had found someone on even ground. It was in good faith, even if Ronnie joked about when he would ask her out so they all could go on a double date, hehe…
The season was smooth sailing until May…
They were making bank. The TV crew was getting one helluva reality show getting intercept after intercept. Until he got the news from back home via the network, he really had no intention this year to go to Michigan unless an outbreak popped up.
It's ironic when God says, "I gotcha," but delivers on that promise six months later when he wasn't there…
Call it overthinking or dumb luck in hindsight, but he felt the OKC outbreak was meant to keep him away from home. Tornado Alley itself seemed to make its new mission to keep him bottled up on the high plains until his birthday. It gave him and many others one helluva gift that day.
After that day, he knew things had changed….
Waking up in the morning after a night he'd never forget was like walking out of the forest into the city of how thick the air felt. The days leading up to Kingman felt like a pressure cooker reaching its breaking point, but he thought that even after what had happened before, he was prepared. His family was a thousand miles away and thriving in the summertime, and he wasn't facing down destiny alone.
Lincoln wished he was alone that day…
God… if it meant never having to chase again, he would have given up that day. Maybe the universe knew what was coming and tried to stop him. You don't go the whole season, and suddenly, your custom-built driveshaft gives its best impression of a twister and takes an axle along with it. The storm was going 40 plus, moving away from them, and was starting to drop funnels while he and at least the entire staff of a diesel mechanics shop were working underneath the truck, making a miracle that would have taken days to get done happen within an hour.
He didn't stop, no matter what was thrown before him. The storm fired up in a spot where they were out of position, Shrieker going down hard enough to barely have the speed of a Mark 1 tank. Traffic backing up into the core, making them take some side roads along with faulty communication with the rest of his team…
Many people would have stopped and given up at either point. 'The Storm is too far, we can't fix the truck in time, it's moving away, and we're stuck in traffic' would be the flavor of excuses when watching all the videos from other chasers celebrating capturing possibly the greatest storm ever witnessed this century.
But not him.
He wouldn't stop when it was the best time to…
Keep pressing closer and closer to something that was literally roaring the voices from hell reaching into heaven to stay away.
They had time.
They had maybe a minute before the spikes were dropped before they could have gotten out of there, moved further southeast, and deployed somewhere further away. He wasn't willing to stop in the path of the beast that went through OKC regardless of the information he had, but he forced himself into the direct path of an even greater monster. It was not much time to most, but enough to make a massive difference.
Despite all the warnings, all the fear he had over the days until that moment, from what the past had told him from his experience out there and beyond…. He ignored it all…
Days into when the curse had already taken his ancestors from the world, he had every chance to avoid a similar fate on that day. If it meant he survived as he did and broke it, then all the better for his family's future. If he got through without a scratch, he'd have to prepare for that day in the future.
He was paying for his actions. Something he'd be willing to shoulder to the end, but he dragged others into it…
He remembered something Ronnie had said when they were at the repair shop. He was outside at the edge of the lot with his laptop, watching the radar and storm, becoming a nervous wreck until she hugged him from the back, saying they might miss today, but there would always be another day…
These were simple words anyone could have said to him any other day, yet it was from her that made it feel like he told her it was stupid to think that. They had down or bust days that applied when said, but it should've been the voice of reason he followed.
Ronnie had been by his side all season. Aside from Clyde, she was the only other 'permanent' resident in that giant house with him. Two years ago, she was iffy about chasing; what rational person wouldn't be? A year after that, she was into it as they were. This season, they were practically connected to the hip and acted like two kids enjoying the adventure across a continental-sized backyard.
For a reason, Clyde's room was on the opposite end of the house, and hers was right across the hallway. They slept in the same bed more than she slept in her own. They had privacy and space, moments to be left to their own devices, but being two doors and five feet in between alone in the house, they were practically inseparable. She was one of his rocks that kept him from doing something above the degree they deemed stupid or insane—another familiar voice for 'simpler' times when they worried more about school work than disasters.
They had rocky moments like any friends would. They didn't know then if this would become the relationship it was. It seemed just like that for a few years until one chance meeting pulled them back together stronger than before. Through so much in two years, he believed nothing could separate them short of an act of God…
… heh…
Mankind sure has a knack for proving itself wrong a lot… If the universe couldn't tear it apart, humanity would find a way to do it themselves. In an attempt to preserve it leads to its own destruction.
That day in June, had he not been so stupid, so tunnel-vision focused on getting inside, getting a few seconds of footage, and just taking a step back, things would have been better for everyone. He wouldn't be lying on this couch; he'd be back home in bed after celebrating what would have been the day and night that would have changed his life forever…
It changed his life forever, alright.
It proved to him that things wouldn't change how he hoped. Maybe securing his family's future by visiting Royal Woods was why an F5 decided to drop there.
What were the chances he had stayed that what happened in Nashville happened there? If he hadn't gone there, would Nashville have been worse? If Nashville had happened and then he had gone north, would that tornado still have happened at all? If he didn't do anything but be a slug stuck in bed, letting life pass by him, would either storm be like what it was? Nashville spared a third hit, but Royal Woods is so weak that it dies in the first five miles.
There were going to be storms regardless of what he did. They went and destroyed where they pleased. Both still could have dropped EF5s even if he wasn't alive right now, and nothing would have changed that.
You can't live on an if, but you can prepare for when it comes…
He has to be ready next year.
With the science fleet being condensed yet broken up to be centered on the radars and pods, he'd still be part of the team, have that mast of instruments on the roof, and be given guidance for a possible intercept, but the SkyKnights were to be disbanded and effectively absorbed into the larger armada.
He wasn't sure if Clyde would follow. The radar truck had a two-person control space, so he could see him staying close to Shay's side. Maybe still sprinkle in that needed information so they had the peace of mind for safety; the others were just an extension and acting mobile mesonets.
If it came down to it, he'd be on his own next year.
He's chased alone when it was just him and Vanzilla at the start. Sometimes, he was the only one driving, navigating, and filming, yet he had one of the Knight trucks and their driver with him. This would be a mostly complete detachment. It'd be entirely his actions and decisions when it came time to go inside or after it.
Compared to now, he'd be a lot better off. If he achieved all this while sick and tired, he imagined it'd be ten times easier when he was fully awake and alert. At least in the situation he was facing down a storm that was about to do what Kingman couldn't, there wouldn't be anyone else there to suffer with him…
Lincoln wondered what Ronnie was up to now…
Rough guess: she was probably panicking if she hadn't heard about the storm yet. He didn't put it beyond watching it on television or Lori calling Bobby and him telling her. She had that sense of reading the sky like he did. It wasn't on par, but she still could feel it like an aged sailor in the morning. At least in some part, with Rainrunner basically being an armored car, any storm close by they thought was too dangerous they could have safely packed up and evacuated.
There was the chance she was already in town… He knew she wasn't one to storm chase, but with something like that bearing down on your hometown where so many of your friends still lived, sometimes being there to jump into the rescue or try to get the warning out to as many as possible would be the difference she could make.
Maybe she'll run into his family…
…
… he prayed for them. For all of them, not just his sisters and parents, but for everyone back home. Even Chandler, if his little nightmare last night was anything to go by. They were all living peacefully as the world kept on turning, and then- BAM! What you remembered as normal yesterday no longer exists tomorrow…
And then there was Sam….
He hadn't interacted with her in a year, but even with that gap of no contact, today, they interacted like two old friends, instantly snapping into their old routine. There was some awkwardness, sure; they really didn't interact on the level two people who knew each other via a third-party connection for a decade would. She invited him in; he made dinner (with her food…) and had a mental breakdown beforehand, and she was there to listen and stay beside him. Anyone inviting someone in would either try to dig deeper or think it was better to leave to clear their mind.
But not her. She dug a little here and there. He gave some context, like with Kingman, but she didn't press any further. He did most of the talking tonight; she was sitting there listening to all the crazy things he's been through. It was refreshing to see a familiar face, more for a new perspective and voice to add in, yet they interacted like she was over at the house waiting for Luna to pick her up. They joked, traded stories, and even watched the movie as a timekiller, just two friends essentially hanging out after a rough time.
Though he didn't want to look so 'observant' about some things, he couldn't deny it, but Sam had grown into a fine young woman. Six years showed how much life before and after being a rockstar could change someone. It still surprised him how tall he had gotten over the years. The first time they met, he was a head shorter than her, and now it was the reverse. He wondered just how tall he was compared to the rest of the family now.
He still imagined Luna falling in the same line as Sam—sleek and not with sunken bones like someone who got too close to the infamous drug problem the music industry was famous for. She still had the ironic teal streak, and he wasn't sure if she kept it dyed or if it was actually blue hair. Her voice had mellowed out, but he wasn't sure if that was because of all the singing she had done before.
Above all, despite all the changes, he could still see Sam from her youth to now. Every meeting they had was a little stepping stone for him to see how life away from home hadn't just changed him. But she looked naturally beautiful without makeup. He didn't bat an eye when they met yesterday or at the hospital, but when she came out and took a good look, he was a bit surprised by how much a little makeup could hide so much…
He owed her.
It might sound not very smart, given he had abandoned everything else to save her life. Taking her to the hospital and just a ride back home was something that was only added to the list of him making dinner despite her protest. He'd do it for anyone willing to invite him in for food and have a place to sleep that was much easier on his back than laying on the floor in a sleeping bag in the truck. But being there to help him escape that incident and not do something stupid, the chance to step away from anything involving the storms and relive part of his life he hadn't had the joy of doing in a while now.
She gave him peace; he couldn't thank her enough for that...
… so why did something about this feel wrong?
Since he pulled her free of that deathtrap, something just hasn't felt right…
In a haggard sigh, he threw the blanket off to the otherside and swung around to be sitting again. Staring at the void of the TV screen, it was too dark for him to see as much as he did before, but the kitchen light gave him an eerie yellow glow to half his body as he sat there trying to find what he was looking for.
Feeling his search needed new hunting grounds, he got up and weaved his way to the bathroom. Feeling the cold tiles under his feet send the hairs on his legs, standing straight up with the warmth that filled the space from his shower was long gone as he felt for the light switch. Shielding his eyes when the sudden brightness stinging after staring aimlessly in the dark, he swiftly and quietly shut the door behind him.
Turning around, he was greeted by a familiar site once more.
He looked somewhat closer to his authentic self but still a withered mess.
"Christ, Loud… was twelve hours, and that meal is all you needed to just look like that again?" he told himself, leaning against the counter to where his eyes stared back into their irises a foot away. Running a hand through his hair, he inadvertently caused a turkey tail to crop up. It was a mess with longer hair, but he was sure it'd come back in full if he had it cut right.
"Maybe someday…." He muttered, looking over his own features.
At first, he could see how he had bags but didn't look so tired. Exhaustion was there but far less so than when he looked in the hospital mirror. His eyes strained to focus, and he was sure he heard the buzzing light bulbs above get louder. It grew so much he couldn't ignore it until a micro headache formed. Rubbing his eyes again, he heard it lowering and went to see if something had happened, but instead saw himself looking back.
But it wasn't him.
The man looked older. His face was sunken in like it was starved, and patches of soot and mud were across it, with a glistening sheen from being soaked by water or sweat that made parts of his dirty white air stick to it.
At best, Lincoln could see him dressed in a uniform from the waist up. Something you'd see officers wearing back in the colonial area of the US before the revolution took hold. The sleeves were full of holes, with the left side torn to pieces by the shoulder; the cloth stained dark red like a bullet wound had bled through whatever layers were over it. The visible skin was charred and black, with parts of his neck going to the ear speckled but a hot exposed pink color like the top layer was burned off.
Lincoln looked surprised, but the man did not.
Lincoln knew who he was—someone who had been in the background for years, closely following. The man knew who Lincoln was and had been waiting for years for when his time would come.
No words were said, but Lincoln could see in his eyes answers to some of the questions he had been building since he last saw him. The man knew this and nodded, understanding there were more to come but shook his head, right now wasn't the time just yet. He bowed his head, saddened he could give what Lincoln needed.
Lincoln understood as well. He bowed his head again in a single nod as he closed his eyes, knowing the wait would drive him closer until the time was here. Through the thin veil between the edges, he could see the lights flickering and going dark. Slowly returning to life seconds later, he looked back up at the mirror and saw himself as he was.
With a heavy sigh, he flicked both knobs on the faucet full blast. Bending close with both hands cupped together to get a large amount of water before splashing it over his face. Staying low, he shut the water off and let it drip down his face.
Glancing up just past the edge of the mirror and some of his wet hair, he looked back at himself but felt there was nothing more.
Tomorrow will be another day.
Stepping back into the hallway, he tried to think of things to calm his mind so he could actually get some sleep tonight; he got two steps in before his ears picked up something that broke the silence in the house.
Turning to look over his shoulder to Sam's door, what sounded like whimpering or crying was coming from her bedroom.
He thought that maybe she was still awake. It wouldn't be the first time he was alone at night and heard someone doing something that stirred them from slumber or was…. It made the promise of sleep feel like a double-edged sword; he wouldn't listen to it any more than he was standing within range, but the sound stuck in his mind until something else took focus.
But it wasn't like that. Stepping closer to the door, he could hear what sounded like her bed creaking from someone tossing and turning rapidly like they were struggling to find a good spot or being held back.
Bracing himself to make a rapid exit in case some ideas turned true, he slowly turned the knob and pushed the door into the darkness of the room with the only source of light from a purple wall display.
"Sam?" he quietly asked, low enough to be a whisper but loud enough for anyone else to hear.
It took a moment for his eyes to adjust properly from light to darkness. The light was just off to his side, opposite the rest of the room, from the bed to the closet and what he figured was another bathroom, given the reflection of another mirror. The light only made his eyes hurt more from the reflection; it gave off a full-body mirror to his left, yet the purple and black mix made it hard to tell where something was.
"Sam?" he called again, a little louder as he stepped further inside. Seeing a mass under the blankets moving, he shuffled his feet against the carpet, trying not to cause too much noise, and step on something the closer he got to the right side of the bed. Keeping it to where he wasn't body blocking the light, the mass under the blankets constantly shifted back and forth. Legs were kicking to the sides, but he could see her face when it was pulled so high that it reached over the pillows.
He could hear her crying, genuine crying, like she was in pain or utterly terrified.
He took a fistful of the closet corner of the blanket and pulled it back just enough to reveal her head and shoulders. He was thankful she wore a shirt that let him pull it slightly lower. She was facing away from him, her hand weakly trying to push away at something that wasn't there. She didn't react to his voice, either too deep in sleep or whatever her mind saw was distracting her.
Whatever it was making her see, she was trying to fight it but losing the battle. Lincoln stood a little taller, trying to lean over to see her tear-stricken face and clenched eyes. She took in sharp gasps but barely exhaled like she struggled to breathe.
"Sam?" he said louder, reaching over to take her hand into his.
Going to keep his hand over hers instead of grabbing her arm and risk getting popped in the head. Using some leverage to pull her into a sitting position, he didn't know if it was from how loud and close his voice was or her being jolted up, but her eyes popped open in shock as she sucked in such a deep breath she started coughing.
Twisting around where he could mostly sit on the edge of the bed, Lincoln slowly patted her back, giving her a moment to try to get her senses back. "Easy… just breathe. Slow and steady…"
"Linc?" she gasped, trying to use the back of her cast hand to wipe away the tears in her eyes and adjust to trying to see in the darkness with blurry vision. Looking over, she saw him sitting on the edge of her bed with eyes full of concern and her hand held tightly; any other time, she'd freak out and yell "intruder," but seeing how those blue eyes and white hair glowed in the purple light was enough for her not to jump in that direction.
"Sam? What-" he barely got out before he was yanked forward. Her hand broke free of his as she buried her head into his chest like a scared child looking for the comfort of their parent.
Feeling her tears soaking through his shirt as he brought her into his own embrace to make sure Sam knew she was safe. He slowly started to rock back and forth, trying to put himself back into Big Brother mode for the first real time in years despite being the younger of them. He remembered doing it for all his siblings, even the older ones, when something happened and they needed a shoulder to cry on.
What happened with Sam… he had a rough guess of what she was experiencing and wished it wasn't true.
He could imagine that yesterday, she was so mentally checked out she just slept like a rock in the hospital until waking up in her recovery room. She hadn't had the time to register the events yesterday fully. Even today, her mind was probably trying to play catch up, and when her mind was finally able to slow down enough…
He shook his head, hoping it was just some bad dream. The last time he had to deal with someone with this problem was in the aftermath of Kingman. When he was discharged from the hospital, and everyone was back at the farm for the first time in three weeks of chasing that night, he had honestly thought someone had broken into the house and was assaulting someone. Crippling pain or not, he threw his whole body to break that door down when Ronnie didn't answer.
He didn't expect to see her on the floor like she was fighting for her life…
Another aspect of chasing twisters is getting used to the danger and building that zone between comfort and caution, knowing one day it could break but not thinking it'd come true. You see it in people who come out of the wreckage unable to comprehend what had happened. For chasers, it's the reality of being so close to death itself bearing down upon you, and there's nothing you can do.
When you come out of it, even if you have a little scratch, the very idea you survived being hit by a monster was like anything from a nasty car accident to a shark attack. It takes time to process what happened, and how long it varies between people, but when it hits, it's enough to bring just about anyone down.
Past experiences be damned for him… but Sam, as far as he knew, never had anything close to something like this. It was so sudden and too new for her to wrap her brain around fully before it impacted.
For now, he let her have the moment. It is better to let it out when someone is by your side than to be alone and try to keep it in. Her sobbing gradually eased up, and her breathing became steady, but her grip didn't let go. Only when he slowly started pulling her away to see her face and use the blanket to wipe away her tears did she open her eyes to look up to him.
"Feel a bit better?"
She weakly nodded, "W-what happened?" she mumbled, trying to let loose herself again.
"That's what I'd like to know…" he answered softly.
"I… I…" She rubbed her head, trying to think clearly, "It's all a mess… it was fine until I felt like I was… falling. Not like that weird thing before you go to sleep, but like it was… wasn't just then there it… went up, and then it just-just kept-"
"Sam," Lincoln said, retaking her hand as she stuttered, "You don't have to say more. I know…"
"Was that what it was like?" she asked so quietly that he had to lean a little closer. "Back in Kingman? The noise, the wind…"
Silence was becoming a kind of annoying bug that no matter how many times you tried to swat it away, it stayed away for a minute but came right back. Lincoln felt like he had lost his breath for a second. Clenching his eyes shut and turning his head the opposite way, he knew there was a second before the window was about to explode into his face.
He figured this would have come up sooner or later. Giving her the information on Kingman was a double-edged sword: It gave her knowledge about his situation yet gave her context that he'd been through a situation like her.
"It's different from the point of view… Once the door and windshield went, anything else could have followed… The rest of the windows break, the turret gets ripped off, the flaps get shredded…. It had every chance to lift us and decided it just wanted to tear us apart. It had the perfect chance to rip either me or Ronnie out, but either it didn't want to, or I chose some damn good harness straps." he explained, slightly chucking at the end.
"We were exposed for what felt like forever… From what you experienced, it was too quick. The fact that none of your windows blew out from being so close is strange as to why you didn't sink faster. You were inside less than we were exposed. It takes an ungodly amount of lift to get a car flipped over, let alone go that high and stay inside. The only time I can imagine something close was in Mississippi back in 2011 that chucked a car the better part of half a mile and bounced it off a water tower. And another during the night when we saw the lights of a pickup truck at night going into orbit. The furthest just a person by themselves being thrown was a quarter mile, and he only got minor injury."
Lincoln took a deep breath, forcing himself out of going full-on story mode as he looked out aimlessly around the room. "In the short term, we're both just… lucky in our own ways." His voice was uneasy as he said that cursed word, "Just… sometimes more than others…"
Others that deserved every right to be still alive today… At home (if lucky enough) with their loved ones. They might be injured, but being alive would be just enough to bring any family closer on a day that could have meant they'd have to bury one of their own soon.
Sam caught that break in his voice, remembering what he was referring to. She was so sure that had he not come back and said anything, the whole town would have been demanding the Loud Family's butts to be thrown into prison. Lincoln could be very convincing despite what was found out and the work that needed to be done to mend things.
He knew that fact and hoped it'd also work here and now. He had an aching feeling that his trip might get delayed a bit tomorrow, but it was for a good reason.
"You probably saw what your mind thought of as the worst-case scenario. One out of countless chances of how that whole event could have happened and ended. It takes time for some people to be able to move past it, see that none of that happened, and they can keep going. Either it becomes a constant fear that can take over, or it becomes one of those things you'd worry about in the back of your mind. Survive one nasty car crash, worry about when the second will be like anyone else..."
Giving her hand a gentle squeeze, he looked back to her, solidarity utterly bleeding from his eyes: "You don't have to worry about it anymore. I promise. I'll even stay a bit longer tomorrow if it means it. If I have to, I'll call Clyde and say I'm coming back Thursday instead."
Sam perked up at this, surprised that, given how much he had wanted to go back today, he'd willingly wait longer.
"You don't have to if you need to go back, " she said, not wanting her little problem to be the reason he had to give up his time.
"It's fine. El Reno isn't going anywhere, and I don't have much on my immediate future agenda. I'll be on the couch if you need anything." Giving her hand another gentle squeeze, he slowly slipped off the bed as she readjusted herself. Wiggling down some to try and get comfortable again, she watched him circle around, heading for the door. Licking her lips as an idea came to mind, she tried shaking it off for how absurd it was, but the words formed before she could argue.
"Lincoln?" she called out just before he could reach for the door and turned back around to her, "Can you… never mind," she quickly dismissed, pulling the covers up higher to hide her embarrassment like a child.
"Sam?" Lincoln called out like a parent wanting to know.
Thankful that it was probably too dark for him to see how red Gee's face was becoming, she pulled the covers down enough to show her face: " Can you stay? I know it's weird, but…"
'… you don't want to be alone…'
"*sigh* Give me a minute…" he said, walking out into the house's darkness to where she could barely see his outline once he reached the living room—reaching over the couch and getting an armload of the blanket and a pillow before emerging from the darkness.
"Alright, scoot over," he said, coming up to the side he previously was on, dropping the pillow.
As said, Sam twisted her way closer to the opposite side of the bed, surprised by how quickly he accepted as he pulled the covers back enough not to expose her and for him to take his blanket and roll it up into a tube—slotting it roughly in the middle of the bed as he plopped himself down a bit surprised himself by how warm the bed already was.
"A bit forward, don't ya think?" she joked, laying her head back down on a cooler side of her pillow that felt better than it should have.
"I've had a lot of times when one of my sisters suddenly decided to bunk with me at night. I'm a bit used to it." Lincoln replied, getting himself comfortable and pulling the covers up.
Immediately, the two of them could feel just how warm it was under that blanket. Lincoln's little divider did not do much to stop their combined body heat, given the size of the bed, which meant they had mere inches separating them. Lincoln turned to where his back faced Sam, intent on sleeping on the edge and ensuring plenty of space between. But he'd admit, it felt strange and comforting to be in a bed with another.
Sam was still surprised Lincoln had so willingly joined her. She figured that maybe he'd stay on the side until she could pass out, but him actually getting into bed wasn't something she'd expected. It didn't help she was only wearing an oversized shirt and underwear as her nightgown and could feel the spot she was sleeping in earlier was still very warm and a bit soaked from sweat. Hoping that was maybe why Lincoln was moving away from it, though getting more embarrassed if he did notice, she exhaled slowly. Happy enough with the fact that he was here at all.
"Linc?" she whispered, wondering if his lack of movement meant he was already going off to dreamland.
"Yeah, Sam?"
"Thank you…" her voice trailed off. She slowly closed her eyes as she snuggled closer to the divider, unknowingly kicking it further down the bed.
Not hearing her say anything else and feeling the shifting stop, Lincoln twisted around enough to glance over his shoulder to see her out like a light with a peaceful smile.
"...thank you for being there, Sam."
(Note: These AN notes are written before, during, and afterhand to convey my thinking. Not based on what's changed, reviews, etc., and is borderline me ranting out loud my way of thinking.)
I'm happy and relieved of the fact that the first arc of this story is FINALLY DONE!
The story's current location was supposed to have happened by Chapter 15 at best, and chapter-wise, we were well into the second arch. The fact that this chapter got split twice and the first chapter of the second arc got bumped up by three chapters kind of gives an idea of how much bigger this just keeps getting every step of the way.
This is technically the second half of the last chapter, but as explained in it, I felt the tonal difference didn't work being on the same page and decided to split it up. This did help is get some motivation going again as I didn't feel like I was sitting on something big growing that didn't need to go as far as it needed to immediately and was fine where it stopped. Because of this being in active split, I had thought of a time to post more ASAP, then set a time or my usual 20 day gap. So the actual next chapter will be 20 days from when the previous chapter was posted (about September 24). As of the time of this chapter going up, there is about 110 days left in the year, and me still having another 19 Chapters I want to get done and published before it's out, my usual 20-day gaps might be either short or go on my previous basis of '1 chapter ready, 1 finished, 1 in-progress, publish the ready'.
In reality, it could have just stopped right then and there, but I wanted to 'tie up loose ends' with Lincoln's time in Nashville and Sam; as for the latter it'll be sometime before we'll see here again. With the ending of Lincoln's time in Nashville, I'll leave you guessing what happened during that night. But in the main retrospect, this does open more ideas of adding Sam and other characters into the story in a slightly bigger role later down the line. Though I have to admit I feel this is one of my weaker chapters given I was in the burning mindset to find a good route to get it done.
The title of this chapter itself is a kind of in the context to what the siblings saw what Lincoln has turned into, with everything in between showing what he's become, and Sam seeing before her eyes everything he can become. The dialoge might seem weird, but you gotta remember this whole interaction was of two friends who had known each other for years and were more 'comfortable' around each other.
The choice of Tropic Thunder was a random choice for a background movie. I googled up 'popcorn movies to watch with a friend', and it was one of the many recommendations that wasn't something akin to a disaster movie.
The ending was interesting, as it was first meant to be Lincoln hearing Sam having a nightmare, barging in and trying to comfort her while she cried and he stayed, it developed a bit more into two survivors in one spot, one that had accepted the outcome and the other just now beginning to feel its mental effects.
On a side note, There was a planned full-on lemon version of this chapter that, as this progressed, would have originally kicked in just after Sam took notice of Lincoln's little makeshift divider. It wouldn't have been full-on 'active construction site shaking the foundation' levels, but something a bit more slow and tender. I bounced the idea around months ago and debated it heavily in the lead-up to this point. I personally saw it as a moment when two characters really just needed the stress relief and comfort from one another yet still shared their connection.
Though I'll leave you guessing as to what the morning was like.
(Note: These AN notes are written before, during, and after to convey my thinking. Not based on what's changed, reviews, etc., and is borderline me ranting out loud my way of thinking.)