The Devil, You + Me

>Monday.
>Within the first hours of morning, the sister chart drops from "Stampeding T. rex" to "sunny day."
>Now that arms have been laid down, the family can begin rebuilding.
>It's taken almost a week, but the Loud House has finally calmed down.
>But things are...different now.
>The younger siblings immediately notice a change in their brother.
>Lincoln comes home from hanging out, and coming upstairs he hears the twins having a shouting match.
>He feels he should step in, before they get physical.
>It takes him a minute to force himself to walk past their room, closing his door so he could study.
>After Lola and Lana tire themselves out, they go to their sides of the room, licking their wounds.
>Wondering why Lincoln didn't come break them up before they got violent.

>A few days later, Lynn knocks on his door in the evening, asking for a bed to share after a bad fight with Lucy.
>"You wouldn't send me to sleep in the tub, would you?" she pleads, putting on her puppy pout.
>In the morning, Luna starts up the shower for the day, almost having a heart attack when Lynn screams at the sudden wet.
>Friday night, Lori waits eagerly on her bed for the fateful knock.
>Excited to have some quality time cuddling up to her little brother while tutoring him on fractions.
>She waits.
>And waits.
>And when the clock strikes eleven, and with Leni complaining about the light in her eyes, Lori decides to go to bed.
>In the morning, Lori tries to ask him about his homework, wondering if he'll need help later on.
>"It's already done," he says coldly, flashing his completed assignments before kicking her out of his room.
>"Knock next time."
>The door slams before she can reply.
>She doesn't bother walking back in.
>Luan and Lucy's worried claims about him wedging his chair under the knob  tells her it's a futile gesture.
>Lori spends the rest of the day mildly confused over her brother's attitude.
>With a nagging, dull ache, deep in her heart.
>Something's wrong.
>She can feel it.

>A week later, a sleepy morning in the House of Loud is ruined when one of Lisa's experiments violently explodes.
>As the young scientist lays on the floor, tearfully clutching a nasty scrape on her arm, she hears Lincoln's door open.
>She looks up, through cracked lenses as a familiar orange blur steps into her room.
>"Are you alive."
>Lisa opens her mouth to assure her dimwitted homo sapien brother that she continues to respirate.
>But something keeps her from saying anything.
>Normally, Lincoln would have rushed in.
>Tended to her wounds despite her protests.
>Shepherding her into his domicile, based in part on some tribalist instinct to escort her to sanctuary.
>But there was something about the tone...
>The fact he doesn't approach further...
>He doesn't even try to kiss her booboos.
>It actually scares her.
>Closing her mouth, the little girl just nods, bells still ringing in her ears.
>With a grunt, Lincoln turns around, disappears from her room, and closes his door.

>Leni's frantic scream rings through the house.
>With a groan, Lincoln pauses his show, and enters the kitchen.
>A large spider scuttles across the linoleum, ignorant of the giant panicking in it's miniscule presence.
>Lincoln looks at the little bug skittering around, then more incredulously at his sister.
>She stands there, pinned to the wall, eyes tracking the object of her terror.
>Normally, Lincoln would take a glass and capture the spider.
>Try and explain to Leni how good they are for the house, and the world outside, before releasing it into the backyard.
>A grim look creases his face as he enters, approaching the harmless little arachnid.
>Leni flinches when his foot slams down on the offending creature, grinding his heel to ensure it's demise.
>Without a word, he turns around and walks back out.
>But not before shooting her a disdainful glare.
>Lincoln would have tried to talk to his sister about her problem, to help her grow out of her fear.
>But that would be meddling.
>And Lincoln made a promise.

>Blinking away her tears , Leni approaches the little smear on the floor.
>Only a leg or two remain to betray the identity of the new stain on the tile.
>Despite her fear, the older sister feels a hint of guilt tugging at her heart.
>It wasn't hurting her.
>It was just walking across the floor.
>But her screaming made Lincoln angry.
>Leni's eyebrows purse at the sudden, confusing thought.
>She made him...?
>She focuses on the dead spider again.
>Lincoln...Lincoln was angry when he came in.
>He didn't try to capture it.
>Or release it.
>Or even talk to her.
>He just...came in, killed it. then left.
>She looks over to the door.
>The sound of the TV can be heard from the living room.
>She looks back down at the remains of the little bug.
>Leni sniffles, surprised at the sudden pang of guilt.
>She's been hearing stories lately, from the others.
>About him.
>Refusing invitations to events, just to spend time to himself.
>Locking himself in his room whenever the house gets too noisy, or someone bothers him too much.
>How he just doesn't seem to care about them anymore.
>She doesn't...
>She snifs again, wiping away a stray tear as the uncomfortable thoughts make her more upset.
>She can't remember the last time Lincoln tried to play peacekeeper.
>Or smile.
>Not since that Stampeding T. rex incident, over a month ago.
>Lola and Lana barely speak to each other anymore.
>Lucy's become even more depressing.
>She hasn't written in weeks.
>Quietly mumbling an apology to the fallen bug, Leni leaves the kitchen for her room, the half-made smoothie now forgotten.
>She lays down on her bed, sniffling quietly while these horrible thoughts come to a conclusion.
>A single, simple, sinister question.
>What's happened to him?

>Lincoln's mood continues to spiral out of control.
>Before, it would at least take until he's riding home, with the rest of the family, for his attitude to sour.
>Now he wakes up already morose, more often than not.
>Every day is a fight for him.
>An uphill slog in a family of thirteen.
>Every day, he has to hold himself back.
>Watch his sisters struggle to resolve petty, fickle issues.
>Arguments and fights that could easily be resolved if they would just heed his advice.
>If they would just listen to him.
>But he refuses to step in now.
>To interfere.
>He leaves his bedroom, quickly passing by the twin's before they could cry for him.
>It breaks his heart, shunning his own family like this.
>Lincoln feels the burn in his chest.
>The acrid bile welling in the back of his throat.
>He can taste the shame.
>The guilt.
>The self-loathing.
>But he swallows that down, burying that shame and guilt and hatred, along with many other things, as he enters the kitchen.
>Opening the fridge to grab some milk for his cereal, his eyes wander to the open door.
>To the eggs.
>He thinks back, to the last time he made his family breakfast.
>Luan complained about her eggs, and Luna butted in, telling her to enjoy what she gets.
>The resulting fight and noise and mess made Lincoln miss school for two days.
>He hasn't made breakfast for anyone since.
>Shaking his head, Lincoln closes the fridge.
>Quickly pouring the milk into his bowl, he leaves the jug out for the next person.
>Every time he tries to help his sisters, to be a shoulder to lean on when they're down, to be a good brother to them, only for them to take him for granted.
>They waste his time, complaining about the others, about their problems.
>Not once do they ask him about his day.
>Or what's bothering him.
>Lincoln continues to stew on the couch, focusing on his show as the rest of the house sleeps.

>Luan's the first one up, her bunny slippers squeaking cutely with each step down the stairs.
>She catches a glimpse of her brother in the living room.
>She's given up on trying to get a rise out of him.
>For weeks, she tested her best material on Lincoln.
>No chuckle, no smile, nothing.
>Notn even a snort.
>She hasn't heard him laugh in so long.
>Looking away, she goes into the kitchen to make some toast.
>She eats half of a slice before giving up.
>It's been almost two weeks since Lincoln made breakfast.
>By now she's gotten used to skipping the most important meal of the deal.
>She's gone when Lincoln finishes, rolling his eyes at the half-eaten bread sitting on the counter.
>Placing his bowl in the sink, he goes back upstairs, ignoring the muffled crying and hushed whispers from the room nearest the bathroom.
>He doesn't even react to Lana weakly calling to him.
>He hates how easy it's gotten.

>Closing his door, Lincoln starts to change into his day clothes.
>Zipping his jeans, he sits down, counting the minutes for the rest of the family to begin their day.
>At first he relished in the drop in noise.
>But now he hates the quiet.
>Without something to distract him, to fill his head.
>He quickly finds himself alone with his thoughts.
>For the first time in a week, Lincoln looks himself in the small mirror.
>Ever since he told his sisters he'll stop stepping, he's grown miserable.
>Every day, hearing his sisters suffer and chafe against each other just adds another dagger to his tired heart.
>Every morning, he could swear the shadows under his eyes have grown.
>As he inspects his reflection, his thoughts turn dark.
>He could stop this.
>At any moment, the instant he comes through that door with a smile on his face, wanting to talk and play and mingle with his family, this Hell would be over.

>This is beyond pride now, and he knows it.
>His sisters would accept him with open arms.
>His parents would stop trying to talk him into seeing a therapist.
>Lincoln almost doesn't notice the pain in his hand.
>He hates this.
>Forcing himself to pry his nails out of his palm, he shakily drapes the pillow case over the mirror.
>He shouldn't have looked.
>This always happens.
>He sits back down on his bed.
>Lincoln can faintly hear Lily, crying in her room.
>The ichor returns in his throat, staining his taste with bitter iron.
>But he ignores it, like everything else now.
>And he hates it.
>He looks down at his palms.
>He can see where his nails have dug in.
>His head feels heavy.
>Slowly, he lowers his head to his hands.
>When his eyes prass into his palms, he starts to cry.
>He hates himself.
>And as he weeps quietly in his room, the dark thoughts fade, sinking into a cold, frozen bog.
>All but one.
>One mocking sentence, four words long.
>Cruelly reminding him of his plight.
>Of the Hell he's put himself and his family in.
>"He learned his lesson."

>It's past ten when Lincoln opens his door.
>Just in time for the explosion to throw out of her room.
>Lincoln watches her briefly, staring down as his sister whimpers quietly, curling into a ball to protect her singed limbs.
>Then he steps closer.
>And closer.
>And closer again.
>Until Lisa cries out in both pain and surprise when her brother scoops her up, quickly carrying her to the bathroom to apply first aid.
>He wastes no time tending to her injuries.
>Every shard of glass under her skin, removed and sealed shut with a kiss.
>Every band-aid stretched across her face and chest, her shoulders and arms, bound with the arcane mark of a peck.
>Every inch the wrapping cover her burns, a single smeck strengthens their bonds.
>Lisa protests the entire time, fussing about infection and superstition and other such rationalities.
>She is forced to eat her words when she admits afterward that her injuries haven't hurt since Lincoln treated her.
>After a quick wash in the sink to get the last of the ammonium chloride out of her hair, he hugs his sister before guiding her back to her room.
>He beelines for Lily while Lisa starts cleaning her mess.
>Picking up the sobbing child, the brother wastes no time lifting her spirits.
>Changing her diaper, playing a little game with her, reading a story.
>In no time, Lily's a giggling mass of sunshine, squealing happily each time Lincoln tosses her into the air.
>She tires out quickly, though, so Lincoln places her back in her crib for a nap.
>Giving her her blankie, he gives his baby sister a kiss in the forehead before leaving the room.
>And going straight to the twins.

>He first separates them, placing Lana in his room to wait while he has a heart to heart with Lola.
>Listening to her let it all out, with hugs and tears the entire time.
>Twenty minutes later, she's calm enough to listen to him give her advice.
>She listens intently, the sage words of her older brother practically gospel to her ears.
>Then, with one last hug, Lincoln goes to his room, to repeat the process with Lana.
>It's noon when the door opens.
>A crowd has gathered outside.
>Th older sisters watch, with varying levels of shock and awe, as Lola and Lana talk to each other for the first time in over a month, apologizing for all the fighting.
>And then a hug.
>And an invitation to the family to attend a string of much-missed tea parties in the coming days.
>The rest of the week goes by slowly.
>Lincoln makes his way through his siblings, using his experience to work his magic.
>Lucy spent the last month in a chair, staring out the window.
>An hour after spending time with Lincoln, she's moving again.
>A couple hours after that, she starts talking again.
>She hogs the entire day with him to herself, gushing about every last thing on her mind in the past month, scrawling down entire sonnets as Lincoln fixes her spelling.
>Lincoln works as her editor, though he mostly spends his time fixing her spelling.

>Lynn tries to keep her distance, fearing that he'll burn out too fast when her time comes.
>All it takes for her to open up and fall back into routine was a game of catch.
>Now she's returned to forme, with a lot of exercise to catch up on.
>Luan and Luna turned to each other for support after Lincoln went into hiding.
>They've fallen into a rut, barely producing any new content in their muse's absence.
>But now that he's back, there's not enough paper in the house to cover a third of the lyrics, jokes, music and prank plans.
>One day, Lincoln finds some free time to himself.
>A quiet  moment or two he relishes, relaxing on the couch, with a documentary about crossbows giving him white noise.
>Then he hears the panicked shrieking, and with a sigh, he's back to work.
>Leni's easy to find, pressed tight against the kitchen wall, staring wide-eyed at the centipede as it skitters along the linoleum.
>But the minute he enters the room, Leni switches gears.
>Instead of being stunned in terror, she tries to talk to him.
>Sputtering pleas not to kill the little bug.
>Begging for mercy.
>She closes her eyes when he approaches the little centipede, waiting for the coming stomps.
>The soft clack of glass confuses her more than anything.
>Lincoln gently calling her forward, to look at the glass on the counter, even moreso.
>As Leni obeys, slowly stepping closer, Lincoln explains what the little bug was, and why it's important for the house to sometimes have them.
>She even ignores the revulsion rolling through her to take the glass outside, releasing the centipede into the backyard.

>Everything goes well, for the most part.
>The cacophony of life in the House of Loud has all but returned.
>The spark has returned to nine siblings.
>Lori, however, has spent most of the week out of the house.
>She claims it's to be close to Bobby.
>Everyone else knows she's scared to confront Lincoln.
>It's almost midnight on Friday, when Lori comes home.
>Bobby kicked her out.
>He works in the morning.
>He definitely won't be waking up to any of the usual slew of good morning texts and selfies.
>Stomping up the stairs, Lori doesn't care if she wakes anyone up.
>throwing open her door, she doesn't bother with her makeup as she changes for bed.
>Despite her anger, she sends a few good morning texts to greet Bobby at work.
>Alright, a few dozen.
>The girl's in love.
>Placing her phone in it's dock, Lori throws back her sheets and casually gives her mattress the People's Elbow.
>She nearly has a heart attack when her bed starts screaming.
>A few thousand apologies later, with a fair share of hugs and kisses in between, Lori kicks Lincoln out of her room just as she steps on a piece of paper.
>Picking it up, she grabs her phone, using the screen to look at the sheet.
>Math homework.
>Half-finished, crappilly-written fractions.
>Lincoln almost gets whiplash when she yanks him back into her room.
>He spends half the night cocooned in his big sister's sheets and arms, squeaking with every squeeze as he asks for help with the odd problem.
>The rest of night is also spent in his sister's embrace, but they're both  out cold.
>The others wisely decide to let them spend the morning together.

>The rest of the week passes by dizzyingly fast , to say the least.
>Everyone move frantically to make up for lost time.
>The twins host three tea parties a day, with a fourth one restricted to themselves.
>Lucy's gone through a four-foot pile of notebooks, while Lincoln and Luna pour over the other six feet of paper.
>Lynn applies for every single sports team and activity that catches her attention.
>Luan works triple time on her party business, paying Lincoln fully half of the pay every time he chips in on the backlog.
>Luna just spends her time sitting around, strumming quiet little tunes whenever Lincooln needed a few minutes to himself.
>Leni has grown a deeper appreciation for spiders and other bugs, but aside from needing help now and again, gleefully trades smoothie ideas with her brother.
>Lori decides to take a break from dating for a few days, focusing solely on spending time with her baby brother.
>Chaos has returned to the House of Loud.
>But everyone's happy again.
>So happy, mom and dad have stopped talking to Lincoln about seeing a doctor.

>Finally, Sunday night.
>Lincoln walks out of Lisa's room, having tucked Lily into her crib.
>He makes his final rounds upstairs, saying his good nights to his sisters, one by one.
>He has to tickle Lori for almost a full minute before she'd let him go.
>Until at least, with a quiet sigh, Lincoln closes his door.
>Changing into his jammies, Lincoln pauses to look at his reflection.
>He can't help but stare at the young boy looking back.
>Studying his features.
>Noting the shine in his hair.
>The gleam of his tooth.
>Lincoln closes his eyes.
>Takes a deep, slow, shuddering breath.
>And opens them again.
>Taking off the mask in the meantime.

>In an instant, the cheerful, spunky eleven-year old his sisters adore and love is gone.
>Now, Lincoln stares emptily at the now-equally blank reflection in the mirror.
>The bright orange of his jammies, the clean glossy shine of his hair, the warm, happy glows of a good day.
>All gone.
>His pyjamas are dull and muted.
>His hair looks ragged and off-white, like oily concrete.
>The light is gone, replaced by a murky, muted mire.
>He locks eyes with his doppelganger.
>Staring deeply into those sunken orbs.
>There's no light.
>There's nothing.
>"I hate you," Lincoln whispers, throwing his dirty shirt over the reflective glass.
>Sitting down, Lincoln rocks on his bed.
>Struggling to swallow the bile.
>Trying to bury the voices in his head.
>The shame.
>The anger.
>The self-loathing.
>One by one, each candlelight of emotion is snuffed out, shoved face-first into that cold, dank mire.
>Until, finally, one thought remains.
>That one awful thought, that horrible, awful lie that dragged him through Hell.
>Four words, just as mocking as before.
>"He's learned his lesson."
>But now, as Lincoln quietly sobs in his bed, unable to even muster the strength to crawl into the covers, another thought whispers through his head.
>Another four words.
>Not mocking, but worse.
>So much worse.
>It's tired, resigned.
>Defeated.
>They sigh out, softly in his skull, as he cries himself to sleep.
>"But he has failed."

The Devil, You + Me
~Fin~