Ailments (Lincoln X Lynn)

Lincoln let out a shaky breath as he sorted through the bills, most of which were overdue. It seemed like it was going to be impossible to get through this, he might as well declare bankruptcy and hightail it back home. If he was alone, he would have done just that. But, he wasn't. Running home, with his tail between his legs, would mean abandoning his sister, Lynn Loud, to whatever debt collectors came knocking. These days, the government weren't to different from a pack of wild animals. Fat pigs when content, hungry wolves when so much as a single cent slipped through their fingers. He couldn't betray Lynn, no matter how scared he was, he knew that was the one thing he couldn't do.

He stretched and rose from his desk, upon which he drew his amateur comics, and made his way into the apartment's makeshift kitchen. Lincoln lifted up the lid of the coffee pot, only to find it empty. He would go and buy more; but, the last time he bought something, cup ramen noodles, his card got rejected and the store cashier let him take it home, for free, out of pity. Lincoln scratched his arm as he remembered the embarrassing event. He had made money since then, yet the cost of living, in the rust belt, and lack of job stability meant that he could only ever pick up odd jobs. He made more money from commissions, from strangers on the internet, than he did in Detroit and he didn't make much money from his commission. Not to mention, drawing pornographic images, for any rando with a unique fetish, was soul crushing. All of this, combined with his knowledge that his comics were never going to get him a job, served to push Lincoln into a deep, dark hole. He could almost smell the damp, dirt of the hole he occupied.

So, what could he do about it? Lincoln wondered to himself. Sell an organ? Who'd take a poor comic scrub's organs? Prostitute himself? Again, Lincoln was a thin, pasty comic book artist. Kill himself, make it look like an accident, and allow Lynn to collect the life insurance? Ha! Fat chance, he'd lost his life insurance AND his health insurance the last time the government played Jenga with the country's economic system. It seemed like crime was his only option. Lincoln briefly wondered if he had what it took to be a drug dealer. But, he was disturbed by a noise.

Lynn had come back from her fourth and final job for the day and she was exhausted. Seemingly on autopilot, she wandered, almost aimlessly, in the centre of the room, and dropped the shopping she had been carrying. "You make something Linc, I'm too tired right now." She said drearily, before flopping into the one and only couch in the three room apartment. "What'd your last slave die off?" Lincoln mumbled, not aware that he was loud enough for the already disgruntled Lynn to hear. Ticking her off further. "Hey, Linc, maybe you'd like to come over here and say that to my face?" She growled, as she pushed herself up with one hand.
"I'm sorry, Lynn. I know you've had a bad day. But, I'm not your live-in maid." Lincoln's voice was soft when he apologised, knowing arguing wasn't going to solve anything; but frustration and despair, at his own bleak situation, made him become irrational and he raised his voice slightly, when he concluded his point. Lynn was in the same boat and, regardless of whether she wanted to or not, she interpreted Lincoln's words as a jab at her actions. "Oh, is that so?" She asked. "Poor Lincy has to get off his ass and put some effort into life and that's cause for bitchin'." She finished her snide, mocking comment with a snap of her jaw. Forcing the last word through gritted teeth.

This struck a nerve with Lincoln and he kicked a cupboard in the kitchen, causing the flimsy door to fall off. Lynn instantly knew she had gone too far and tried to backpedal, by making amends. "I know you have had it rough, Lincoln. I know you're struggling and doing your best, in your own way. But, you can't just throw a tantrum at the drop of the hat." Lynn had straightened up entirely and was sitting on the couch, having made room for Lincoln to sit down next to her. Lincoln, however, nodded his head furiously, as emotions surged in his body, and huffed; as he became unable to control himself. "Yeah, you're right Lynn. As always, you're right." Lincoln said boldly, clearly inviting confrontation. "And just what is that supposed to mean?" Lynn growled, slowly standing up, as emotions flared.
"You know what I mean." Lincoln said darkly, clenching one hand into a fist and gripping his trouser leg with the other.
"No, I don't. I really don't, so, why don't you tell me." Lynn demanded, as she folded her arms. Grinding one foot into the ground.
"You want me to say it? Lynn-er wants me to say it, out loud, that badly? Fine! You say you understand that I've had it rough? Bullshit! You expect me to follow your every order, just because you feel that I'm being a slouch and that I'm not trying hard enough." Lincoln was visibly shaking now and emphasising every word with a jerky, flick of his hands. "That is not what I said! I would never say that! And you know it!" Lynn shouted and marched over Lincoln. When she did so, they took one look at each other and realised how ridiculous they were being. They paused, looking at each other like lost children. But, they had said things that couldn't be taken back and there was still piles of bottled-up anger. "It's all because, when you're out working, I'm trapped inside this blasted room, working on my comics, and you can't help but imagine that I'm slacking off." Lincoln explained, as he looked down at his older sister. "Aren't you? If your comics were any good, we might actually have some money." Lynn said, jabbing at yet another nerve; this time, Lincoln's main insecurity. "It still makes me some small amount of money, unlike your non-existent career in sports." Lincoln had, by finally striking at one of Lynn's raw nerves, opened Pandora's box. "You." Lynn growled, at a loss for words at blinding, hot fury built up inside of her. "You, complete fucking, shitheel! I gave up my dreams for you, you selfish, self-centred prick!" Lynn yelled, flailing her arms with her fists clenched. "Don't be so fucking delusional!" Bellowed Lincoln, as he circled Lynn and put her in the corner. "You gave up your sport career? What a load of horseshit. You never just focused on one sport, you had to play them all, because you never took sporting seriously. You just loved beating people and then kicking them when you were down! You were never, ever going to have a career in sports."

Lincoln finished his tirade and the little Lynn immediately responded, grabbing Lincoln by the collar and shaking him. "So what am I fucking doing, working four jobs per day!? Why the fuck am I here!? Why am I fucking here, with you!?" Lynn screamed and yelled as she unleashed her rage and agony upon Lincoln. Whilst Lincoln looked down coldly at his sister. Himself, wondering the same questions that she was asking. "Hey! Turn the fucking volume down! You retarded, fuckwits!" Yelled a voice from the apartment next door. Lynn swung round, her teeth both visible and gritted. "What did you fucking say? You slimy, bastard!" Lynn yelled as she started to kick the wall that separated the two apartments. "If you don't like the noise, you can just fuck off to the pub! You stupid, little man! You think you're so smart for shaving away that receding hairline!? Well now you look like a prick with ears! You hear me!? A prick with ears!" Lynn yelled and screamed as she kicked the wall, putting a dent in the flimsy barrier, until she eventually missed a swung and fell backwards. Lincoln tried to catch her, but she tried kicking out at the wall, again, and they both got knocked backwards; falling in a heap.

Crumbled up on the floor, Lynn laid on top of Lincoln. With all of her anger, having left her body, she was just left with the pain, anguish and frustration. She started sobbing into Lincoln's chest and he held her close, needing her close to him to keep him from breaking down. "What are we going to do?" She asked, her voice quivering and as fragile as cracked glass.
"I don't know." Was the answer Lincoln gave and it was the truth. He didn't know what to do. Lynn wiped the tears from her eyes, as she laid on top of Lincoln. "Then, we have choice, we have to go back home." Lynn declared, but not with much determination and far from resolute. "We can't, we made our choice this is it. There's no going back." Lincoln said halfheartedly, as if trying to convince himself. "So, we just go on, until we break? Or worse?" Lynn asked, her voice full of agitation and panic. Lincoln was silent, racking his mind and coming up empty. Instead, he prolonged the decision. "We'll decide in the morning." He said and Lynn nodded into Lincoln's chest.

She then got up, allowing Lincoln to do the same, and moved over to the couch. She waited for Lincoln to lie down, so that she could go back to lying on top of him. Once they were settled, they held each other tightly. "I miss dad's cooking." Lynn said, as she started to drift off. "I know." Lincoln answered, sleep taking him. The two Louds finding peace in each other's arms, feeling a world away from the outside winter cold.