A/N: So I had an idea, and here's the first chapter. I didn't really mean for it to be this long, but it just kept coming. I know there are always a lot of Lincoln leaves and comes back years later stories, but I wanted to take a crack at one myself. Anyway, I drew a lot of inspiration for this story from other well known Loud house fanfics, especially Loving Return, by Devumaru, which I love. Actually, the format of this chapter is pretty much the exact same as that story's first chapter, only this one's about my own content, obviously. In a way, I want to look at this story as sort of an evil step sibling to Loving Return, in fact. Also, Nostalgiah's A Hero's Welcome comes to mind too, in terms of formatting. There are a couple references to other LH fanfics in there too, maybe too indirect to notice.

Anyone who knows the Loud House fan base knows incest plays a big part, and also harems. This story will be no exception. There isn't any in this first chapter, but I sure plan on it in the future. Let there be smut.

Let's see how this goes.

Loud Traffick

Chapter One - Give & Take

It was a beautiful new day in Royal Woods. The very anticipated first week of Summer vacation was always filled with such jubilance and optimism. It's something that all American children know and love, and have since the late 19th century. The lack of a necessity for a set alarm is a privilege kids and teens everywhere appreciate more than words can say. No deadlines. No responsibilities. The birds sing, the children laugh, and there isn't a cloud in sight above a certain very loud house. The Loud house.

In the bustling, upstairs hallway, the long line for the sole bathroom was no new problem. In order: a little girl with glasses muttered to herself as she solved complex arithmetic on a clipboard, a teen with braces, meant to fix her distracting overbite, told her newest jokes to the small girls behind her, one wearing a woven, pink nightgown that draped from head to toe, the other wearing a much too large blue t-shirt, which hung below her knees. Behind them, a beautiful, ditzy blonde smiled and hummed to her hearts delight, being happy for the even the simplest of things. Behind her, a girl with a pixie cut strummed furiously on her brand spankin' new, Les-Paul air guitar, to the hard rock blasting in her headphones, and next, a jock did morning clap push-ups, while a goth hid her face in a new, dark book, ascertaining her current thoughts on this morning's ruckus in contrast to the eternal darkness that is death. The oldest sister had no doubt claimed first dibs on the bathroom, and was currently inside, vainly abusing her power.

At the opposite end of the hall, a white haired eleven year old jumped out of bed, cracking his back in care free relief. "It's the third day of summer, which means today's plans are to have no plans at all!" He spoke to no one. He was excited to go about his day, surrounded by his loving family. He knew there was a long line for the bathroom, but he didn't let it bother him. Nope, today he decided he was going to continue to-

*gggggrrrrrrrrrrrrrrblgrrgr*

Some inhuman gurgling reverberated the chambers of his intestines. An acute pressure is felt sliding down the small boy's insides, and it's sudden heft is quickly building in his bladder, surely chugging along like a steam roller.

This can only mean one thing... nature's calling, and calling now.

Grabbing his clothes and his towel, he bolts out of his closet sized room to take his spot at the back of the line behind his little sister Lucy. Feeling the intense pressure building up in his bladder, he drops his things at his feet and holds on to his joystick for dear life, prancing around with his knees together, trying to keep his mind off of the problem quite literally at hand.

"Nice moves, dude!" Luna yells, misinterpreting her little brothers desperate prancing, for a dance routine.

Lucy turns around to see him, and starts writing in her book. "This is just what I needed to finish my poem, Lincoln. Your misery is inspiring me, like always."

Lincoln ignores them and looks up ahead to see Lisa exit the bathroom, and Luan walk in. 'It's not moving as quickly today as normal! Why today of all days?' He thought to himself. The many morning antics of his zany sisters fail to sway the young lads attention, having grown so accustomed to it all over the years. It's unsurprising how desensitized you can become constantly being surrounded by so many people and having no concept of privacy.

A thought appears in Lincoln's mind. He's reminded of this ancient, weird as hell movie he watched about a year ago called Barbarella. It's about some really hot chick in the future, who explores the outer reaches of space with a blind angel. Yeah. Being a sci-fi fan can be weird sometimes.

Well, there's one scene in the movie where this bad guy named Durand Durand tries to kill Barbarella with a musical sex machine, and it malfunctions because she's too horny for it to work on her or something, so he starts acting like she's the weird one. Maybe the movie was a little too mature for a ten year old, but he'd seen weirder things in his older sisters rooms— which is actually why he'd thought of this.

Anyway, that scene amazed Lincoln, because here was this machiavellian evil guy trying to become a global dictator and kill her, and he, all of a sudden, makes it a point to demonstrate that she's the oddball in the room. That's hypocrisy manifest. That reminds him of-

"...Lincoln?"

'Dang it!' He thought. He'd actually just succeeded for once at getting his mind off of his bladder, and now it's not. Lucy looks at him from behind her bangs.

"I've finished my poem. It's quite poignant. Would you like to hear it?" The seven yer old is proud of her relatively articulate vocabulary, and enjoys sharing with her siblings.

Unable to answer vocally, Lincoln frantically shakes his head, feeling hopeful his sister's talents may in fact be the thing to help keep his mind off the situation at hand. Lucy clears her throat.

"Finding Solace:

Pain, agony, and suffering,

Polluting my mind, like gas guzzling.

Tripping down a dreadful road,

I'm on my own, no use in trying.

There's too much, time has slowed, but,

I must trek on, no time for dying.

Stopping here, I know I've found it,

So satisfying, I started bawling,

The path there was, now far behind.

No more searching, no more grit,

Sweet relief, for home, I'm calling,

So long for this, I've pined."

Lincoln barely heard it. With his eyes crossed, his grip tightens around his rod. He manages to look ahead to see that, somehow, by the grace of God, Lucy is almost up. 'What the hell? Time flies when your bladder is going to burst, apparently.'

The door opens after a few more minutes and Lynn walks out with a satisfied grin, having just enjoyed a nice warm shower. Lucy closes her book and heads inside. "Please hurry," Lincoln squeaks out before his sister closes the door.

'Okay, okay, just wait a little bit longer. Little bit longer, yeah, I can do it. Lucy takes the fastest showers. I can handle it. I know I can. Just think about anything else-'

His optimistic train of thought was then cut off by a solid smack on his back. His core clenched painfully upon the stressful impact. "Man, Linc, you sure are hangin' in there today," Lynn says teasingly— knowingly. Lincoln replies with a scowl, and Lynn sneers back at him.

'Please. Please don't do that, Lynn. Not right now. I don't know if I can take any more,' he mentally pleads to her, trying to tell her with his eyes. His mouth opens, but he can't speak.

Like a blacksmith at work, Lynn raises her hand high in the air and brings it down on his back once, twice, three more times, each time causing her little brother to tighten and contort his body even harder. Luan walks out of her room, and immediately catches on. She gives a playful grin, and walks up to them.

"Lynn, Lynn, Lynn, you're not going to get anywhere doing it like that. Lincoln's actually gotten tougher over these past few months, so you need to try new methods. Remember, 'Against the assault of laughter, nothing can stand,'" she quotes her favorite author, Mark Twain, reaching out her long, dangerous fingers. Lisa often gives their siblings classic novels she'd think they'd like as gifts for holidays and such. She says it enriches the soul, or something like that. She gave Luan, Mark Twain books.

Looking down on him with glee, Luan gently touches Lincoln's sides and starts to tickle his clenched abdomen. Lynn joins in, her added strength not doubling, but tripling the pain he's in. Losing control, Lincoln feels a quick jolt shoot up his spine, as his bladder finally starts to breach like a dam in an earthquake. His eyelids begin to flutter, and his lungs convulse, naturally desiring to release a laugh and a leak.

*click*

Lucy walks out of the bathroom in her day clothes, and without hesitation, Lincoln leaps inside and slams the door behind him, leaving his elder sisters slightly disappointed.

"AAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhaahhhh..."

He had the best piss of his entire eleven years of life. I mean, jeez, that was a really close call. His sisters almost got him this time.

Poor Lincoln, though. Even though they know, his sisters won't tell him just because it's too funny for them— but the funny thing is, he's a guy. He hasn't realized he can just go in the a yard.

After Lincoln relieves himself, he turns the shower on and undresses, stepping in. After a few minutes of lathering, shampooing, and washing his body to be spick and span, he turns the water off, steps out and thoroughly dries off. He then slips, naked, into the hallway and grabs his towel and day clothes off the floor, proceeding to put them on before anyone can see.

As he nears his room, "Kids! Breakfast is ready," can be heard from downstairs, followed by the rampaging footsteps of his sisters. He throws his things on his bed, and follows his sisters at his own leisure. He walks into the kitchen, grabs his plate and takes his seat at the kiddie table, in between Lola and Lisa. Lisa greets him with her strong lisp.

"Greetings, brother unit. I assume you're feeling quite ardent in regards to our familial trip to Royal Woods park?"

"Morning, Lisa. I didn't know we were going to the park today," Lincoln responds honestly.

"Indeed we are. Both of our parental units were coincidentally granted today off from their respective vocations, on account of Dr. Feinstein's diagnosis of influenza virus A, street name "the flu," while the current predicament of the Michigan beef callback is subsequently halting the Aloha Comrade from opening, temporarily. As I'm sure you can already imagine, our siblings are exceptionally ebullient about whatever puerile activities they have planned."

Lana jumps forward, and eagerly talks with her mouth full, "Yeah, Linc! You're going to make mud pies with me, right?" She tears another bite out of the strip of bacon in her hand.

Her twin makes a disgusted face, "Eww, Lana. Show some class! And for your information, Lincoln is going to be playing with me at the park today. Isn't that right, Linky?" The small princess is snide and supercilious, and enjoys moments like these very much.

"Why, you spoiled little-" Lana started to retort, as she prepared to jump her twin. Lincoln cut her off, holding his hands up.

"Girls! I'm going to be playing with both of you today. Don't worry, okay?"

Both girls simmer down and relax their tense little shoulders with satisfied smiles, refocusing on their eggs. "Okay, Lincoln," they simultaneously respond, with noticeably content inflections.

Lincoln picks up a strip of bacon about seven inches in length from the center of the table, and dangles it above his plate, drawing envy from his sisters. He places it on his plate, and grabs a few more. Then he scoops a hefty amount of scrambled eggs, as well. Lately, Lincoln has been feeling a bit insecure about his body, which is really not like him at all. He's not skinny, per se, but he sure hears enough teasing from his older sisters about it. That makes him think, if these girls think he's too skinny, won't other girls think the same thing? Lynn always says eggs are a good way to stay healthy and put on weight at the same time, and he plans on being even bigger than his father someday. His dad's no shrimp, neither. The dude's about 6'2" and while he's not in the best shape anymore, he apparently used to be a bit of a stud in high school. Hard to imagine, but true.

That's what Lincoln wants.

Not to be a sports star, nah, Lynn can have that. Lincoln just wants to be in good enough shape to look like a sports star. Girls love that stuff. Call him shallow, but he's a recently horny eleven year old boy. Sue him. He doesn't know much though, besides the wisdom his other eleven year old friends bestow upon each other at their lunch tables at school, he knows next to nothing about what adult things adults do together. He also doesn't understand why he felt the urge to hide that old poster of that woman in a bikini he found in the attic, mixed in with his dad's old college things, under his pillow. He would look at it every night and feel a fluttering in his stomach. The name at the bottom of the poster said Farrah Fawcett, but to Lincoln it may as well have said Fallen Angel.

"So, when exactly are we gunna head out?" Lincoln asked.

"I believe our mother unit stated we are scheduled to depart after our midday sustenance."

"Lisa, why do you always have to talk so weird?" Lola rudely asked, earning a disapproving look from her older brother.

"Lola, why would you ask that? You know that's not nice." Lincoln scolded.

"Whoever said I'm nice?"

"It's quite alright, dear brother, and I appreciate your concern. Also, Lola, I believe you meant, 'whomever.' As for your question, I speak with a specifically selected, sophisticated vocabulary for various reasons, like increasing and sustaining my own intellectual quotient, ensuring that my mind develops to its greatest capacity, and also because its simply that easy for me to do. They're all layman's terms to me, so I may as well get something productive out of it, stemming from a doubtful hope that it will provide you all with helpful intellectual stimulation to increase each of your own vocabularies, at least by a small margin. At least Lucy can appreciate that."

That's... actually pretty cool of her. Lisa's so smart, she has genuine reasons for why she decides to talk the way she does. For us, and for herself. Knowing everything has to be boring, plus being surrounded by people dumber than you all the time has to get on a persons nerves. Lincoln remembers her once saying some other smart person said 'If you're the smartest person in the room, then you're in the wrong room.' Yeah, she was saying that to us, for us to benefit ourselves. Imagine it from her perspective. It's almost impossible. It would be terrible. He's totally fine being where he is— with his mind, that is.

Lincoln then looks to Lucy, who still has her nose deep in her journal. She's probably still fiddling with that poem from this morning. Trying to perfect it. She's another person who's seen as weird because of her originality. She has a great talent, and it gets overlooked so easily. Well, maybe she doesn't actually mind the teasing at school, but she's probably the only one.

Then again, he did take the fall for her once, when she flushed her Princess Pony book, so maybe she does mind. Maybe Lucy isn't as depraved as she gives off.

Lincoln puts his silverware on his, now empty, plate. He sits back, crosses his arms over his very full stomach and continues to watch his sisters bicker, even Lisa. It's so funny how she likes to mediate the twins arguments. She says she doesn't like being bothered with any 'trivial' matters, but she definitely does. She loves it, even though she'd never admit to it.

"Lincoln, are you listening to me?"

Lincoln snaps out of his thoughts, once he realizes he's the one being talked to. All five of his sisters, including baby Lily, are looking at him.

"...Sorry, what?"

"Ugh! Pay attention! I asked you if this pink lipstick or this red lipstick would look better for this weekends Summer pageant? Lucy likes red, Lisa likes pink, and Lana is being gross and doesn't care. What do you think?"

"Are you gunna wear the dress with the bedazzled shoulders, or the one with the white trim around the bottom?"

"The white trim."

"Then definitely the pink." Lincoln said. He then picks up his plate, and heads towards the sink. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have a date with some comic books and a pair of undies."

Lincoln gets up to his room, and strips down to his skivvies in an instant. He leaps onto his bed, and bounces a couple times. He grabs the newest issue of Ace Savvy. In this issue, Ace's backstory is finally going to be revealed. It's been alluded to in the past, but Bill Buck never fleshed it out completely. Today is a big day for comic books.

...

"Hey, Spade, mind if I turn up the heat? It's freezing in here." A young black man, around twenty-five years of age, sits in the passenger seat of a navy blue Bentley.

"Not at all, Jack. Go right ahead." A slightly older white man, about thirty, drives his luxury vehicle.

The two of them are just leaving a black tie, cocktail party. It was a celebration thrown by one of their associates, in honor of the man's father, who was a renowned psychiatrist, known for his research on the influences of drastically different upbringings with children. The classic nature v nurture debate. Besides, it is Father's Day, after all.

"Say, Spade? You mind if I ask you a question?"

"Sure, Jack. What's buggin' ya?"

"Well, I was just thinking that we've been partners for a long time now. You know all about me, you know my parents and the rest of my family, but you've never told me about yours."

Spade sits, shocked by the question. He'd anticipated it being asked at some point— being the worlds savviest detective does have its benefits. He thinks back to his childhood, something he more often than not, chooses to avoid.

A young boy, around 7 years of age, is walking home from school in the bustling city of New York. His home, a luxury loft, on the upper East side, is only a few blocks away, so his parents let him make the trek on his own. He's used to it. It's normal for him to be alone, even when he's surrounded by people. His parents are often busy with their work, and leave him be, or with his caretakers, but they don't speak much English.

His father is an envied stock broker who works on Wall Street, and his mother is a world famous neuro-surgeon. They always buy him lavish things, the biggest toys, the best clothes, and they always throw the most amazing birthday parties a kid could want.

But they never come, themselves.

The boy thinks about his infant sister. She's the only real company he has, and all she does is sleep, poop and cry. Call him weird but he can't wait to get to see her when he gets home everyday. She's his favorite person in the world, and the only real companion he's ever had.

"Gimme your backpack, runt."

Spade hears this over to his right, down an alleyway. He sees a very rough looking, burly boy a few years older than him, picking on a small child who looks to be five years old or so. The younger kid is crying, and the older goon is laughing his butt off.

Spade doesn't like that.

The boy rolls up his sleeves, and walks up to the duo. "Hey!"

The two kids stop what they're doing and look at him. "Oh hey, I know you, dork. You're that rich snot from up town. Spade. Spade Nifty, right?"

"That's right, pal. Now stop what you're doing and leave that kid alone."

The goon bursts into a fit of laughter. The smaller kid, pinned against the wall, watches them both, worriedly with tears in his eyes.

"You're funny, dork. Scram before I pound ya," the goon threatened, but then he had an interesting thought about it. He releases the younger kid, and turns his body to face Spade. "Say, you're so rich, you have to have some sweet loot on ya. More than this pipsqueak, anyway. Come here." The goon lunges to grab Spade, but Spade ducks out of the way, sticking his leg out, and making the goon trip and crash into a pile of metal trash cans with a loud clash.

Moaning, writhing in pain, the goon grabs his head after he gets up, and wobbles on his dizzy feet. He looks to Spade in blurred vision and injured pride, "You're dead meat, kid. I'm gunna tell my dad about this, and you'll get yours. You'll see! Watch your back." The goon hobbles away, in feverish anger.

Thinking nothing of it but empty threats, Spade helps up the five year old, and brushes the dirt off of him. "Are you okay?"

The kid nods and looks at Spade appreciatively— nervously. "T- thank you," he stammered. He suddenly bolts away, and runs down the busy street. Spade can only watch.

Spade thinks again about the older boy's threats, but gives them no real thought. How much damage can one kid do?

Three days and nights pass without so much as a hair out of place, until one dreary night someone finds and sneaks into the exquisite Nifty residence, and their darling daughter was~

"Lincoln!"

Lincoln's immersion is completely broken by the strident yelling of his oldest sister. He rolls his eyes and folds his comic book once Lori barges into his closet.

"What is it, Lori?" He grumbled, looking up at her.

"I need you to fold the laundry that's sitting in the basement. Bobby and I are going to the store before lunch. I need to buy a new phone charger."

"What? No way I'm doing that. That's your chore, Lori. I already did mine, yesterday."

"Tough luck. If you don't do this for me, I'm not driving you to the comic book store anymore," Lori threatens. She knows she got him there. That's his Achilles heel.

Lincoln was about to try and argue, but he looks down to his lap. This comic is only the first of a limited three issue special, and number two comes out next week. Ugh.

"Fine..." Lincoln mumbled.

"Good boy." Lori said, before walking away with her head held high.

Lincoln groans and starts his walk to the basement. She can be a real pain in the ass sometimes, abusing her authority left and right. It's not fair. Just because she's older, it doesn't mean she always gets to tell people smaller than her what to do. Sure, maybe it does when they're home alone, but not when mom and dad are here. 'This bites,' as Luna would say.

Hours Later

The sun was beginning to set and the sky was gradually changing to a beautiful hue of light pink. The formerly busy park was now emptying, and most of the Loud family was packing up their things.

"Ya can't out run me, Linc. I'm too fast for ya." Lynn stopped and teased with a confident grin.

An out of breath Lincoln, put his hands on his knees, knowing that his sister was right. He couldn't out run her, he never could, but he wouldn't give in so easily, either. He was determined. "I can try," he said, optimistically.

With that, he took off once again through the lush grass, taking a surprise head start. He thought he was in the clear, until he heard a screech from behind him.

"GOT YA"

Lynn jumped from her stride, and grappled her younger brother, pinning him down by his wrists. She sits back, and frees him. She chuckles triumphantly. "Like I told ya Linc, you can't out run me. You are getting faster though. I'll give ya that."

Lincoln was out of breath as he lay weakly on the ground. He opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off.

"Kids come on, we're heading home!" Rita Loud exclaimed, holding her yawning baby, Lily, in her arms. Leni and Luna held the sleeping twins in their arms, as Lisa, and Lucy followed, arms hung, with half lidded eyes. They were beat from an entire day in the intense heat.

"Aww man! Can't we stay a little longer, mom? I only need to catch Lincoln two more times to make it an even 10-0," she asks, jogging up to her busy parents.

"I'm sorry sweetie, but it's time to go. Your mother goes back to work tomorrow, and I have to get dinner started," Lynn Sr answered.

"I can stay here with them," Lori said, not looking up from her phone. It didn't matter much to her, as she would simply be texting Bobby at home just as she was here, on the park bench, all day. "I'll walk them home in a little while."

"Ohh, and I think Lincoln is finally tired enough that he might get a charlie-horse. I'd love to get that on video," Luan requests, holding up her camera to her little brother who was dragging his tired feet behind him the whole way to the group.

Lynn Sr, and Rita exchanged glances, but nodded to each other.

"That's fine, but be sure to get home within the hour. It's wienerschnitzel tonight, and it'll be ready by then."

"Yeah, I promise. We'll be on time," she says rolling her eyes.

With that, the four are left alone in the small park, as their family takes Vanzilla the short ride home. Luan sits on the bench next to the texting Lori, watching the film she already captured today, as Lynn and Lincoln continue to run after one another.

...

Meanwhile

Two solid white, windowless vans slowly chugged up to the curb. They parked, one right in front of the other.

"Alright Donnie, you see anything good?" A sharp Japanese-American man in the drivers side seat of the van in front, with short black hair and sunglasses, asked the passenger. Donnie, a giant of a man with long brown hair down to his large dark shoulders, leans forward and peers out the tinted windshield at the park. "Uhh yeah, Emon, there are some young girls out there," he replied, followed by dumb chuckles and lip smacking.

Emon replies slowly, and demeaningly, "That's good, now climb in the back, and wait for my signal. When I give you the signal, what do you do?"

As he's climbing into the back of the van, "I uhh.. open the door and grab 'em, right Emon?"

"Riiight. We only need one more kid, then we're done and we get to go home. Ship sails tomorrow. Max and others are waiting for us, so we'd better make this quick. Now, Donnie-boy, get back there, shut up, and wait." Under his breath, he grumbles, "Ya fuckin' moron."

Donnie lumbered into the back space of the van, his huge form shaking the entirety of the vehicle, and again started chuckling ignorantly. He looks down upon two young girls, no more than five and seven years of age, tied and gagged, laying on their sides at his over-sized feet. They each whimper, startled by the commotion and scared of the imposing brute, and yet again begin their recurring bouts of tears.

Donnie positions himself clumsily but correctly in front of the sliding door. There, he waits for Emon's signal.

...

Luan was fiddling with her dated technology. Every time she used it it seemed to break in a different way, as is expected working with such an old device. "Finally!" She said happily, having fit the film cartridge back in the slot, and closing the now reattached lid. She starts to rewind to where she last took off filming.

"HA! 9-0. You have no chance of breaking my streak, Linc. I'm unbeatable," Lynn mocks her brother, waving, bowing and blowing kisses to the imaginary crowd surrounding them.

Lincoln put his arm on a tree to help keep his balance, catching his breath. He didn't like the teasing, even as playful as it was, but he did like seeing his sister happy, and he's been used to it for years. Plus, he'd be lying if he said he wasn't having a little fun too. "You know, Lynn, I don't even get this game. Am I supposed to run anywhere specifically, or am I supposed to just out run you until you get tired before I do?" He jokingly asks.

"Don't know, bro. You haven't lasted long enough for it to even matter," she taunts further, with a smirk.

Lincoln rolls his eyes, and can't help but offer a forced chuckle. He looks down at the base of the tree trunk to see a little black book amongst the fallen leaves. "Oh, dang. I guess Lucy left her journal here on accident. She was half asleep when they left, so I can't blame her," he said to himself, picking the small thing up and slipping it in his back pocket. She'd be really bummed if she didn't get it back, he thought.

Standing up straight, he takes a big breath and gets back on topic, "Okay, you're so confident then Lynn, how about this round if you can't catch me, or whatever it is you're supposed to do, I win the whole game, for the whole day. Deal?"

Lynn scoffs and gives a confident smirk once again, "You're on, Linc."

Lincoln turns his head to take in his surrounding, not seeing many options of things to help him win, looking for things that could potentially trip Lynn up. He sees his distracted sisters on the bench, the empty jungle gym, and a few cars at the curb. Figuring all he can do is hope he gets lucky, he sighs, and quickly takes off from the tree, with Lynn right on his tail. He runs past his sisters on the bench, as Lynn leaps over them head first, rolling into a somersault, he runs under the monkey bars in the jungle gym as Lynn freely swings across them, and he starts to get out of breath again as he nears the sidewalk.

He can hear Lynn gaining on him ever so quickly, as his two developing lungs pump to their furthest extents of power. He hears their rapid footsteps transition from the grass to the concrete, and finally he hears yet another screech from behind him.

"GOT YA"

...

That's weird...He heard it but didn't feel anything. As he slowed his stride, he turned his sights over his shoulder to view the most terrifying thing he'd ever seen. Immediately, he felt a wicked agony overcome his nervous system. Terror he never thought was possible consumed him from head to toe, far worse than anything he felt from watching "The Harvester." No, this was... genuine.

But there was no time. No! He had to act. Shoving aside those raw feelings, he felt something primal emerge from within. He felt his brotherly instincts kick into maximum overdrive.

"LYNN," he shouted.

Lori groaned while shaking her head in aggravation, angrily dropping her hands in her lap, thinking her two younger siblings are fighting in public, again. They're so damn embarrassing.

"Oh, shoot! Did I miss it?" Luan asks disappointedly, as she eagerly turns her camera in synchronization with Lori's angry glare.

What they see unfolding before them caught them both completely off guard— their little sister fighting back against being pulled into a white van, as their even younger brother desperately tries to help free her. Lincoln had found a new burst of energy, as he charged over to his sister and grabbed onto the enormous meat hooks latched onto her jersey and covering her mouth.

Suddenly, it registered. Lori lunged into attack mode and b-lined it straight towards them on the opposite side of the park. "HEY YOU ASSHOLE, LET HER GO," she screams as she sprints, instinctually ignoring all the other emotions that were rapidly approaching in the back of her mind.

Luan, meanwhile, was overwhelmed, and utterly petrified with shock. She couldn't find it in herself to move a muscle at first. As Lori emerges into view of the camera, Luan somehow manages to look away from the lens, slightly shaking her head, with her mouth agape, now seeing it clearly with two full eyes. It's not a mirage, this is real.

Lincoln's had enough. With all his prepubescent might, he sinks his teeth into the beastly mans right arm, hearing a wail of pain coming from inside the only partially opened door. The man's grip loosens just the smallest amount, but it was plenty for them. In the lucky seconds of the only opportunity they'll have, the two siblings manage to free the iron grip from Lynn's jersey, sending her flying backward like a rag-doll, as Lincoln was accidentally struck in the face by the brutes' meaty paw, sending him straight down to his knees in a daze, gripping his gushing red nose.

Without even a thought to process her current situation, Lynn looked up, laying on her back and panting on the pavement, only to watch on in horror as the large, hairy arm once again reached out and gripped the back of her little brothers polo. They locked eyes— she stared intently into the most frightened eyes she'd ever seen, scarlet blood covering the rest of his young face. His feet flew up and his hands went out for his big sister, as he was fiercely yanked into the blackness of the van.

The door shut.

"NOOOOO," Lori desperately, painfully pleads, sprinting past her sister on the ground.

The tires peel out, as the vans high-tail it out of there. Lori reaches the now empty parking spot and stops running, tears violently coming down her enraged face, now becoming acutely horrified. Lynn pushes her adrenaline ridden body up, for some reason feeling heavy as cement at the moment, and forces her way to her oldest sister.

Through her tears, Lori unlocks her phone in her shaky grip, and starts typing frantically. She starts to speed walk, clumsily, back towards Luan after the van drove out of sight. She manages to somehow, confidently exclaim, "Okay, alright, I- I got the plate number, *sniff*, I'm going to- Lynn‽ Lynn!"

Lori grabbed Lynn by the shoulders and shook her repeatedly, trying to break her out of her thousand yard stare. "Lynn! Look at me, I need you to call mom and dad right now! Tell them what happened, okay? I'm calling the police," she says, fighting hard to not break, holding the phone up to her ear. It all happened so fast.

Lynn didn't really hear any of that. She barely heard "mom," "dad," and "police," but nothing more. She put her head down and shook it hard, like a dog trying to dry itself from the rain, snapping her focus back on reality. The world was silent and slow.

She stumbled over her running feet, to Luan, who was on her knees, crying hysterically in disbelief as she tightly clutched her video camera to her chest. Lynn looked to the bench and saw her sisters phone. Picking it up, she dialed their home number, and as soon as she heard the faint "Hello," of her sister Luna, her own rushing wave of emotions crashed and she cried too. She held her tears back only well enough to spew out the most necessary of words to answer Luna's many immediate and concerned questions.

"L- Lincoln's gone."

Things were going to change for the Louds.

9 Years Later

Things did change. Things were bleak. Life hasn't been easy for the Louds, suffice to say, since Lincoln was stolen away from them— but life continued. For years, the family grieved and lived submerged in their mass heart ache, each in their own, individual way.

The outside world seemed unappealing for a long, long time, and they tended to stick to themselves and stay in their home. However, the common saying time heals all wounds, while more often than not, inaccurate, could be used from that outside world's perspective as a description of the Louds, and for good reason too. Such all around, incredibly talented people always find ways to use those abilities, even in the roughest of situations.

...

Lori, for the first few years, denied her depression, as terrible as it was. She denied herself any sympathy, and took the reigns for all responsibility in the house. She took the blunt of the workload, as her parents and siblings grieved. She focused only on them, which, in turn, was the inevitable breaking point of her relationship with Bobby. He understood her situation, and did his best to help her through it for a long time, but he was young too, and just couldn't handle it in the end.

The breakup was the point where Lori finally acknowledged her depression. Not long after, she broke and cried. She became open and eager to improve and heal, and did just that. Once she reached a secure place, she applied for some classes at Royal Woods community College, received good grades and inevitably made it into the University of Michigan. There she entered the Law school and graduated top of her class. Over this period of time, she dealt with her depression, gradually improving and finally accepting her brother's abduction.

After graduation, Lori applied at many different locations, and found work at a large, notable law firm in the city, and quickly made a name for herself there. Coincidentally, years after they'd last seen each other, she bumped into Bobby Santiago one day, not having seen each other for the long years since their breakup. They'd hit it off. They started going out and quickly found the love they had for each other years earlier, and got engaged.

Now, at the age of 26, Lori was to be married in only a few months, and makes a very substantial income as a well respected prosecutor.

...

Leni's story is significantly less eventful than that of her older sister's, but no less impressive. For five long years she grieved, secluding herself to the confines of her bedroom, doing nothing but lay in bed for most of that time. Lori leaving the house was hard for her when that time came, and made things decline further for Leni. Her parents quickly saw this, and scheduled her weekly meetings with a therapist who made house calls.

Never quite getting over her brother's loss, she improved nonetheless and started, once again, making clothes: a uniquely venting art expression. She eventually submitted her design book to an agency in the city and was picked up immediately. Her designs became the latest trends of each different season, and having such incredibly quick success, inevitably, she ended up making a brand of her own. Well, her brand spread across the nation, then across the seas, as her clothes sold in stores worldwide. Her business is primarily run in Michigan still, not wanting to leave the majority of her family members, but she also has locations in Los Angeles, Milan, Seoul, and London.

Now at the young age of 25, Leni Loud is one of the most popular and well known names in the fashion industry, among the ranks of Calvin Klein, Gucci, and Louis Vuitton.

Also, she and Lori decided they wanted to be roommates, or more specifically, flat-mates, again in the city, in their own luxury suite. Bobby doesn't mind, so long as Leni has her own room. Luna also stays with them from time to time, when she comes back in town.

...

Speaking of Luna, she had one of the rockier roads of all the sisters, which is really saying something. She began to stay away from the house, missing curfews or staying out nights entirely, often fighting with Lori and her parents about it, and going to parties to try to take Lincoln off her mind. She began to drink, then she tried drugs which led to harder drugs, which led to addiction. This whole time, she hadn't played a minute of music herself, claiming to have given it up.

One night at a concert out at Royal Woods lake, Luna was arrested for possession of narcotics. This was a big moment for her. She saw the acute disappointment her family had shown her, and vowed to change. She went to rehab, and she started to play her music again.

Her band with Chunk, George and her girlfriend Sam was discovered one lucky night, and were fortunately signed to a record deal. They began to tour the states, and as her absence was already typical to the family, they simply wished her both luck and love when she set off into the world.

After a few months of living the dream, one night on the road, Luna came back early from a party. She walked into her hotel room and lo and behold, Sam was riding George under their sheets— she was being cheated on. Luna snapped. She kicked George out of the room, and instead of talking reasonably with Sam— the seemingly lovely girl who'd stayed by her side through high school and all the tragedy Luna and her family endured, she beat the hell out of her, and drank herself into a near coma on the bloody floor.

Sam pressed charges. Luna was arrested and kicked off the tour and lost her contract. After a short break, she was going to AA meetings regularly again, then she went on a solo tour with another agency that fortunately took a chance on her— a chance some would say she didn't deserve. She inevitably made it big on her own, and far bigger than she had with her old band.

At the young age of 24, Luna Loud is one of the most widely listened to modern musical talents in the world.

...

Then there's Luan. Being so abundantly optimistic, no one would expect her to take the loss of her brother the hardest, but she did. She fell into one of the deepest, most crippling depressions a person can have, Leni being the only one to compare to her in that regard. In this time of low spirits, going without so much as a laugh over the years of loneliness, she realized the only time she ever felt truly happy was when her brother was home. She realized, much to her chagrin, that she had been lying to herself for years on end, and that she had actually been in love with her little brother. It was a revelation, a strange and unexpected one, but a revelation nonetheless. These thoughts didn't sit well, and led to her routinely cutting herself on her arms to feel... something, again.

Over time, she only got worse— far, far worse. She refused to see the home therapist with Leni, arguing to the point of near violence, and started leaving the house at night, but not with Luna. She had become desperate to feel again, and her desperation eventually made her snap. She would sleep all day, and go out at night in search of stray cats or dogs, and lure them into a leash or a crate. She would walk them back home, take them in the garage and subsequently torture them. Though she vomited the first time, it quickly became easy. It didn't start out that way, but that's what it led to. It was something no one— not even she could have expected, but she had finally found something that made her laugh again.

By sheer luck, one night Lucy saw her from up on the roof, writing a poem. She told Lisa and her parents (the first time talking to them in what felt like years), so Lisa performed a psychological exam, one of the few times she'd unlocked herself from her lab and came out. She studied Luan's mind, and diagnosed her with severe Erotomania for Lincoln, stating it was only a matter of time before she started killing and laughing at humans too. She was simply too dangerous.

Luan was institutionalized.

She was in the hole for a few years, going through the normal routine one goes through while in such a place, much to her family's disappointment. After a few years, however, she was released under house arrest, at first, and after time she could try to lead a normal life again, taking an abundance of medications, and being under very strict supervision. The medications worked, for the most part, and to Luan, those things she did seemed only like a bad dream. Nevertheless, they did happen, and she's still somehow... off.

In her spare time, Luan began to make Instagram videos, just simply passing the time at first— but they were very popular prank and joke videos. She quickly drew a surprisingly large, niche fan base of over a million followers once it had been released that she had been in a mental hospital, and that niche fan base only grew from there.

Luan, at only 23, lives as one of Americas most popular Internet personas, with well over 40 million followers.

Although, her family is still quite scared of her, and honestly, how could they not be?

...

Lynn had it rough too though, mind you. She blamed herself for what happened to Lincoln, quitting all sports in self punishment, and constantly thinking it should have been me, it should have been me, over and over for at least the first few weeks after it happened, if not months. It took a while to get out of that habit, but still never really went away. She just couldn't get the fear in his eyes out of her mind.

She became angry, then angrier, then not just angry, but she became a bully at school, getting in fight after fight. She lost her friends because of it— ironically, the only people she was ever nice to from then on were her younger sisters, swearing to protect them at all costs.

One day at school, she bullied the wrong people, and was beaten pretty severely and was hospitalized for it. She broke seeing her family crowd her in her bed, and apologized for everything she'd done.

Making progress, she began playing sports again, at the high school across town after being expelled, and trained like never before. She quickly refound herself, worked hard and got a soccer scholarship to the University of Michigan, like her high school boyfriend Francisco, who was headed there too for baseball. They helped each other train and eventually fell in love. Lynn now focusing only on him, soccer and jujitsu to relieve stress.

During her senior year of an eventful college career, she qualified for the US Women's Olympic soccer team and played for them in Russia— becoming the star of the team and subsequently, captain.

At 22, Lynn was an Olympic gold medalist, and freshly pregnant with her first child.

...

Lucy was an odd case, no surprise there. She kept to herself mostly growing more depressed, and grew even quieter, sticking to her thoughts and to her poetry. She did, however, pick up the habit of spying. It wasn't out of malice or because of any perversion, she just wanted to keep tabs on them. It was really out of compassion. She spied on her entire family, and wrote poems about their transgressions, until she saw Luan that one fateful night, "accidentally."

That shocked and scared her— it woke her up, in a way. She began to write seriously again. Eventually, when Luan was institutionalized, Lucy made sure to make constant visits, without telling their family, feeling for her big sister and wanting to help. Lucy used her talks with Luan to help her write grand poetry, and wrote about her brother as well. She submitted her works to some State Competitions and actually won. Finally recognizing she had a great talent, she began to write a horror novel.

At the age of 17, Lucy was a best selling author, and planned on attending either Harvard or Yale the following year.

...

Next came the twins.

Lana. The poor girl was despondent, and as depressed as a six year old could be. As bright and gifted as she was for her age, she didn't quite understand why her brother wasn't coming home. She was very young when he was abducted, and as sad as she was, she was certain that it scared her to her core.

By Lisa's diagnosis, Lana developed phobias called Separation Anxiety disorder and Agoraphobia. She never left her twin's side, except when she would burst into tears and throw tantrums upon having to leave for school. Eventually, her parents let her stay and get home-schooled, but she had to see the therapist Leni was seeing, as well. Lana just waned to improve and to help her family and especially her twin.

She made strides to get better, and could eventually go into the yard comfortably, then even to the store with her parents, then lastly, after much hard work, to school again, but it took time. She focused on her handy skills, working on fixing the house and Vanzilla on the daily. She did however, always avoid Luan. She was terrified of her. The animal killer.

Lola didn't get sad like her twin, no, she grew angry, like Lynn. She grew a grudge and kept to herself as well, only really talking to Lana at home. Her anger was palpable, as well. As things go, word of the Loud boy's abduction had spread through the town like wildfire. One smart-ass boy in Lola's and Lana's class, a year after Lincoln's abduction, mind you, thought he could look funny in front of his group of friends, and teased the young Lola about it and about her twin's problems too. He was young though, and didn't fully understand, but that's no excuse. Lola, ever unforgiving, did not appreciate it. She grabbed one of her colored pencils off her desk and stabbed him clean in the shoulder, violently, then smacked him repeatedly, pummeling him, until a teacher eventually pried her away.

Lola was expelled, and was forced to do homeschooling with Lana. She was also banned from pageantry, which only made her angrier. She would take it out on anyone in earshot, and snap on a dime, so she too had to see the therapist for anger management. Making progress over time, she and Lana helped each other and their family as much as they could, but being careful around Luan once she got back from the institution. Sadly enough, as they grew, they only remembered glimpses of Lincoln, but remembered how special he was to them and to everybody.

Later, Lola decided she wanted to do something with her life, and asked Leni for help in modeling.

Lana and Lola, both now 15, are content with their trades, and have shown tremendous success— both gaining notoriety for being so successful at their age.

...

Lisa stuck to her lab and to her work. She was galvanized, and searched day and night for ways to find Lincoln over some seriously grueling years, with no luck, however. Like Lori, she had denied her emotions, and didn't acknowledge that healing had to be done. She wanted to help her family, though, even if she didn't see them very often, so she invented some things which she sold to the American and British governments— keeping the best things to herself of course. The world isn't ready for everything yet. Weapons, to be more precise, are what she sold them. She invented slightly better weapons to help the more ethical of the world powerhouses keep the world peace. She gave most of that money to Lori and her parents to do with it what they pleased. It really helped with all of their expenses, and they had a lot.

It had been years— she dropped out of school, only coming out for food, and to help her sisters by diagnosing them with whatever problems they'd developed. She does still care for them all, lovingly.

Never finding a breakthrough or any success at all in the search for Lincoln, even though she'd invented some things lesser minds wouldn't even comprehend, she struggled not to become cynical and depressed, herself, and eventually broke. She was young, and as unbelievably smart as she was, she couldn't handle it and cried, hugging herself, alone, in her lab under the house. An older associate of hers, a mad drunk, even suggested replacing him with another Lincoln from another dimension, but she considered that to be the ultimate failure, so she didn't listen. That would be cheating.

She came out of her lab after that, and chose to heal herself, and even started bunking with Lily again. She read philosophy each night, and eventually improved— philosophy being something she'd respected before, but never utilized or studied. Both the ethical and the logical subjects helped ease her into a nicer state of mind; one with a bit of warmth. Always remembering everything is difficult, but if you know the right way to deal with it, it becomes easier.

Lisa, at only the age of 13, is undoubtedly the smartest person in her world.

...

Lastly, there's the young Lily. This very cunning, petite bundle of joy had grown up without a brother, having no recollection of him whatsoever. The only things she knows about him are from the few pictures hanging around the house, like above the fireplace, and the very few stories her sisters would tell her about him, whenever she would try to help them out when they were sad.

Anyway, besides her intense interest in her brother, Lily was also interested in all sorts of other things. She likes old movies, cartoons, video games, dancing and especially art. She was a regular Jill of all trades too, spending a lot of time with her sisters— when they'd actually let her be around. She's also the only one not scared of Luan, only feeling deeply sorry and wanting to relate to and understanding how her big sister felt.

Lily, nearing her 11th birthday, is a very talented girl.

...

Success and talent though, as it happens, are fickle, dreary and unfulfilling. They make things easier, and livelier, but the Loud family's heart ache never quite went away. Their successes shouldn't fool anyone, the loss is still there, and deep as ever before.

They continue on, still living their daily lives, slowly but surely moving on from their harsh pasts, and looking to their bright futures instead, as well as they can.

The Loud parents stayed mostly normal throughout, obviously going through their own severe grief for some time, but they both knew they had ten other children to be there for and support. So they did, and they are ever proud of the wonderful careers their children have made for themselves so far, even if their roads were bumpy. Also, they are extremely proud and appreciative of Lori and Lisa, having helped their family so much while they both were out of commission, so to speak.

...

Currently, it was 1:00pm on a Saturday. Luan sat in the living room, and naturally she was alone. If anyone was ever in the room with her, besides Lily, they simply ignored the awkward vibe. Lana still didn't like her though.

Luan's thoughts were always so enigmatic, whether or not she actually liked having her loved ones be scared of her, no one could tell, and if they could tell, they wouldn't dare talk about it. Not out of fear of being punished or anything crazy like that, but because they just didn't want to be overly presumptuous about someone in their family. But still...

Lily walked down the stairs, jubilantly humming to herself, and carrying her favorite paintings of her own making. She set them up on the far left side of the couch, next to Lisa's super computer on a floating desk. Floating. Literally levitating. Those display stations were both next to: Lynn's gold medal in its case, Luna's favorite guitar in its stand, and the first draft of Lucy's novel. Its all here for a reason too.

Today is a big day, but an odd day for them all. Lori and Leni are driving in from the city soon, and should be here in just around an hour or so. Also, Luna flew back in town two days ago, and Lynn drove in that same night, too. For the first time in a long time, all of the Loud sisters would actually be in the Loud house.

Lily smiled joyfully upon thinking of them all being here. It makes her heart feel happy. Luan looked over her shoulder, away from the tv, to watch little Lily meticulously set up her things in the prettiest way possible— her eyes glassy from her medication. Her parents made sure she took them today, today of all days especially, because of the interview.

The long running television show 60 Minutes is doing a special feature about their family this afternoon. They called weeks ago, asking relentlessly if they could. The Loud parents left it up to their kids, who all seemed fine with the idea. The special feature is apparently about the American Dream or something, and they're supposed to be the modern ideal.

Luan nearly laughed when she heard her parents say that.

"How does this look, Luan?" Lily asked.

Luan blinked. "Looks kee-ute, Lily. Very vibrant."

Lily smiled at her and began humming again. She walked around and sat on the couch, brushing the wrinkles out of her violet skirt with her hands. If there were any wrinkles in it at all, Leni would insist on ironing it. Lily wanted everything to be perfect in advance, for when they got here.

Luna and Lynn both walked down the stairs, and Lily smiled brighter.

"Are you girls all ready for later?" Their mothers voice asked them from the kitchen door frame.

"You know it, mom. If they ask me to play a song, I even have the perfect one picked out," Luna said.

"That's great, sweetie. How about you, Lynn? The morning sickness wasn't too bad today was it?"

Lynn put her hand on her still flat and toned stomach, "Nah, it's fine, mom. It's actually not too bad today." Just then her phone rings in her pocket. She pulls it out, "Oh, it's Francisco. I've gotta take this," she said, before walking into the dining room.

Luna walked around the couch and around the table of accolades behind it, and flopped down in her father's favorite leather chair. She opened her phone and started looking through her old Instagram posts. She has just a couple million fewer followers than Luan. That's not exactly special in this house, though. Leni is right there with them.

...

Meanwhile

Across town, in Royal Woods general hospital, a man watches as the bodies of the injured strangers he'd just helped save, wheel away into the ER. He loses sight of them as the doors close, but he stands and lingers a moment longer before moving, brooding like a forlorn king.

He sticks his hands into the pockets of his dark jeans, and begins to walk down the sterile white halls. It's a large hospital and he was lucky to get those people here with enough time to spare. Those people, a young couple, he'd guessed —kids really— a boy and a girl, both probably juniors in high school, were in a car flipped on its back as he rode by on his Harley. He pulled them out and quite literally threw their limp bodies on his bike across his lap, and sped here. He had no other option. The road was desolate, and cold in this Michigan winter, with no other cars in sight— and he doesn't have a phone. He's lucky they didn't lose balance and crash on their way here. But they didn't.

He didn't know their names before, and he's not gunna stick around to find out. He's just glad they have a chance now, because of him. It might even make him feel better for a short while, but really, that's not important right now. His tainted conscience is of no concern to anyone but him. Plus, that's not why he's here. He came to this town for a few serious reasons, and at long last, too.

As he walks, he looks into the rooms of the many sickly and injured people here, many young, but more old. He's certainly a stranger to neither death nor suffering, being quite familiar with both, in fact. That, however, doesn't make it any easier to look at.

He walks in search of a particular room. He knows someone is here; he'd read about it in the paper a few weeks ago. This old Navy vet had a heart attack in the middle of an honorary parade, and he'd bet that man is still here. Not only that, but the old vet also had-

"Where are you? Where did you go?"

The young man heard a far older man's voice repeatedly calling, weakly, for who he'd guess would be an attendant, from the room to his left. He looked around, up and down the hall, and didn't see anyone but a different older man up ahead, slowly trudging along in his hospital gown, leaning on his iv for support. The young man looks to the room number and, what do you know, it's the room he'd been looking for.

Trepidatiously, the young man entered. He carefully walked up to the bed with his back still to the door, looking at this withered soul call for help. The old man doesn't take notice, and his irises are grey. He's blind, the younger man realizes. He sits in the chair in astonishment of how this man now looks, and grabs hold of the clipboard hanging off the wall, and looks it over. He only understands the basic readings, but he already knows what the old man has. He'd already known, sadly, and it managed to pierce his hardened shell. The old man is familiar now, only by name and by blood. It's his grandad.

He's honed in on the moment, as tends to happen to him now. It's a habit he'd developed over time, and out of necessity. His mind was so focused on studying the old man before him, he couldn't have looked away if he'd tried. He hadn't even noticed the large cracks in the window, or the blurry television up in the corner, playing Grown Ups 2. He sits, simply reveling in their existences and about their reunion at long last. It's not how he'd hoped it to happen. This man was his idol.

"Lincoln?"

The young man's, yes, Lincoln's, eyes shoot up at his Pop-Pop, and his breath catches.

"Lincoln, where did you go?" The voice is so frail and weak it's almost hard for Lincoln to listen to. He's pleading.

As his Pop-Pop continues to call out, Lincoln's breathing becomes rapid, and he begins to sweat a little. He scoots forward in his seat a little bit. He begins to want to speak and tell his Pop-Pop he's here, and even knowing his grandad's now blind, Lincoln slowly reaches his hand up towards the black beanie he's wearing, to remove it and reveal his still ashen-white hair.

"Sorry about that, dear," the young man's quick reflexes make him turn on a dime towards another old voice behind him. An old woman this time. His breathing evens out.

"He has dementia," the old woman said, calmly, yet curtly, as she walked up and around to the opposite side of the bed near the window. She takes a deep, solemn breath and exhales. "It's been so much worse since that heart attack." She spoke to the young stranger like an old friend, but he knew she didn't recognize him.

"All he's been able to do since then is call out for our grandson, Lincoln. His loss was so difficult for us." Her expression makes Lincoln think she's been all cried out about it for a long time, as he can see the pain in her eyes looking at his grandpa. She grabs one of his hands with both of her own and the old Albert seems to mellow out and relax his tensed body, laying his head back down with an odd mix of ease and defeat.

She looks up at Lincoln from Albert, not recognizing it is in fact Lincoln she's talking to, "And who might you be, young man?" She asked, sweetly, but curiously.

Lincoln hesitates to answer, thinking of an excuse he'd come up with in preparation, having expected something like this might happen. He clears his throat. "I- I'm actually a veteran myself, ma'am. I belong to an organization, where young vets come and visit our elders. Share war stories, and things like that." His deep, normally smooth voice quivered a small bit, but not enough for his old Gran-Gran to notice.

She looks at him, eyes lidded, but nods her head. "Well, that's very sweet of you, dear." She'd aged terribly since he'd been a child, Lincoln noticed. She was always so lively for an old bird, and now she uses a cane and looks her age. "That's very sweet," she repeats, "but sadly, it's no use with dear Albert. He's not much one for conversation anymore, I'm afraid."

Lincoln nods. He takes another long look at his grandpa, barely recognizing his small form, wispy hair and mustache. He smiles fondly, remembering their old adventures, but starts to feel a deep and real sadness. He wants to reach down and take the old man's hand in his and hold it dearly, but he restrains. "Yes, ma'am." He stands up, and tugs down on his long, thick, black coat, hanging down to his feet almost. He clears his throat again. "Well, I'd best be heading off then." He starts quickly backtracking towards the door. The woman's face shows him she's surprised with his abrupt exit. "H- Have a good day, ma'am."

Lincoln moves out of the room and walks fervently down towards the exit. He's felt some terrible things in his relatively young life, but what he's feeling now is new and not pleasant. His grandpa laying sick in bed, on his last strands of life, and his Gran-Gran looking like she's aged so much. Even just being in the same room as them. Then he thinks of his immediate family, and wonders where they are. Why the hell aren't they here? Why aren't they trying to help? He thought, almost resentfully— accusingly. He furrows his brow.

Outside, he straddles his Harley, the soft purr of the engine begins to roar, as he pulls out onto the snowy road— the ice cold air chilling the gruff stubble on his face, but he's used to far colder. This is nothing.

Over the ride to where he's headed, he thinks about how it won't be good to greet his family in an angry mood. He squeezes the handlebars tightly and clenches his jaw. He hasn't seen them in, shit, nine years now. Nine years. He's a different person. They're probably different people too. They have to be. He knows that to be true about a few of them already, seeing them online or on tv or other things like that, but the others? No idea. His grandpa— the monumental man he looked up to in his childhood, is so very different, he acknowledges, so they must be too.

He doesn't know how he feels about it. He's not sure yet. So he takes a deep breath, chilling his lungs, and thinks that however he feels in the moment is just how he's gunna feel. This isn't something you can plan...but he would if he could.

Eventually, he pulls up to the curb across the street and puts the kickstand down. He sits on his bike and just stares at the house he remembers so well for a few minutes. Simply contemplating. It's quiet over there, but he hears something directly in front of him.

He looks forward to see a large, black pickup truck with a logo plastered on the side. 60 Minutes, it says, over the image of a clock. The truck bed is down, and there's a lot of equipment in it. A woman with a face for tv wears a thick, yellow winter coat, and stands next to the tuck bed, her arms crossed and her teeth chattering. She's on the phone. In front of her, her equipment manager, Lincoln guesses, is unloading what they need.

"Come on, Earl!" The woman yelled into her phone. "I don't care how many cars are piled up, drive around them!"

"..."

"Earl! Don't you flake on us! I am not rescheduling this. I want out of this hick town as soon as possible... Earl? Earl!" She groans openly, and her equipment manager stands up straight, looking at her. The man stifles a chuckle.

"Earl's not coming!" She yelled at him. He knew that already. "Can you work a microphone and a camera at the same time? Of course you can't!" She puts her hands on her hips and taps her boot.

Lincoln dismounts his motorcycle. He sees the woman look at him.

"Hey! Hey, kid!" Lincoln looks at her, as she turns to face him. "Can you work a camera?" She asked him.

Lincoln looks at her. He raises a brow. "Uhh.. well, I-"

"Good." The woman came over and grabbed Lincoln by his coat sleeve and started pulling him towards the truck. She picks up the large tv camera and hands it to him, firmly. "I'm Denise. I'm a reporter with 60 Minutes. This is Chucky," she gestures to the other man. Chucky says a simple hello.

Lincoln inspects the large, fragile device in his hands, inquisitively— surprised to be holding it. "What's all this about, anyway? Why's a tv crew in Royal Woods?" He asked, getting to the point. He'd been too young before to have ever known or cared about news shows like this, but he can piece together that's what it is.

Denise looks at him. She actually speaks about her work with some semblance of genuine enthusiasm, "Them," she said, pointing to his old house. "We're doing a special on this family. The Loud family. It's pretty amazing actually, there's ten siblings, all girls, and they're all incredibly talented people. Some are famous already, maybe you've heard of them." She leans in and grumbles to Lincoln, "And apparently, the only brother was abducted about 9 years ago. Pretty amazing story if you ask me."

Lincoln looks down to the camera then back over to the house with its deep red door, and thinks this will be an interesting way to reintroduce himself to his family.