Absolution

>All Lincoln could remember was the rain.
>All he dreamt of was the rain.
>The rain on the sidewalk and a sudden agonizing, all-encompassing pain.
>The sound of a softly strumming acoustic guitar are what enticed him into opening his eyes.
>A soft groan.
>He recognized the song.
>Moonlight Sonata.
>As his vision unblurred, he realized he did not recognize the room he was in.
>Everything looked sterile, unwelcoming.
>His bed wasn't his. It felt different.
>Flowers were next to his bed. Chrysanthemums. He could make out a note.
>'Get well soon' with a little heart drawn on at the end. The handwriting seemed familiar.
>The guitar was still playing. The fingers strumming the chords feel a sorrow that lends authenticity to the song.
>Lincoln had an itch on his nose.
>He went to scratch it.
>He couldn't move his arms and it hurt to try.
>They were both in casts.
>As were his legs.
>He was in traction.
>"Wh--what? What's going on?"
>The guitar stopped playing.
>"Lincoln? Bro, is that you? Are you really awake?"
>Luna set the guitar down and ran to Lincoln's bedside.
>"Luna? Was that you playing? Where am I? Why does everything hurt?"
>Luna gently stroked his cheek, she had the most uplifting smile, but her eyes welled with tears.
>"Great song, by the way. But, uh, what's going on? Why am I a mummy?"
>Luna looked at the door leading out of the room. She seemed to expect someone.
>She looked back at Lincoln, but then her eyes seemed to move in all directions in contemplation.
>"Well, bro... You were in a bit of an accident."
>Lincoln was surprisingly calm about this revelation.
>"Well, how long was I out?"
>"Six days, dude! We've all been worried sick!"
>She raised her head, eyes widened and snapping her fingers.
>"Oh! That reminds me, I'm supposed to call mom and dad when you wake up!"
>She briefly walked to her hand bag, resting on her visitors chair and dug a cell phone out of it.
>"Lori let you borrow her phone?" Lincoln asked incredulously.
>"Sure did, bro." She said with a slight smile.
>"She told me not to let you out of my sight and to talk to you every hour."
>Lori willingly parting with her phone seemed hard to believe. Lori showing any form of affection to anyone other than Bobby and Lily even more so.
>She started dialing into it.
>"All us older sisters, we took turns watching over ya."
>She covered her other ear as she heard the ringing tone.
>Lincoln was having some trouble processing all of this.
>He was still trying remember exactly what happened.
>He was walking home from school.
>It started raining. Hard.
>He used his backpack as an umbrella.
>He was talking to Clyde.
>Clyde.
>"Hey Luna, where's Clyde?"
>Luna's eyebrows lifted and her eyes narrowed. Her teeth clenched a little.
>She turned her head away, but Lincoln saw.
>"I--I gotta take this."
>She walked out of the hospital room all too quickly to finish her call outside.
>The door closed behind her.
>Lincoln spent the next half hour alone.
>With his thoughts.
>With his doubts.
>With his fears.
>Every now and then, he could hear Luna's muffled voice through the thin wall.
>But he could never make anything out.
>For someone who looked so happy to hear good news, she sounded worried.
>He couldn't even scratch his nose.
>Eventually, the whole family was coming through the door.
>Lori has her phone back.
>Luan had Mr. Coconuts and a plastered on smile.
>Lucy was holding onto Lynn.
>Lynn has puppy dog eyes.
>Leni ran to the EKG machine, enchanted by its beeping.
>Lisa followed her to make sure she wouldn't pull the plug.
>Luna had a worried look on her face.
>The twins were immediately at the bedside.
>Mom and dad tiered over them.
>"How you feeling, sport?"
>"Like I got hit by a car."
>"So he DOES remember!" Leni chimed.
>She was immediately shushed by everyone else. Luan tried to lighten the mood.
>"Hey, there's nothing wrong with a little gallows humor, right?"
>"Is that really what happened?"
>Mom took a deep breath.
>"A car lost control in the rain water and jumped a curb. The doctors say it could have been a lot worse. And we're just so, so happy you're okay!"
>"Where's Clyde?" Lincoln blurted out.
>A deafening silence invaded the room.
>Lincoln started to get nervous.
>He frantically looked around for someone to answer.
>Everyone avoided his gaze.
>"Will Luna won't Luna tell me, and she sounded worried, and I don't know where he is, and nobody wants to tell me!"
>Shallow breaths escaped him.
>His father put his arm around his mother. His face was solemn.
>"Son. Clyde's the reason your injuries weren't worse."
>He closed his eyes.
>"He pushed you out of the way."
>Lincoln closed his eyes. He knew this was the answer the moment Luna avoided answering it.
>For a few minutes, no one said anything.
>They wanted Lincoln to be the first to say something.
>"When's the funeral?"
>His mother looked to the door. Covering her eyes.
>"It already happened."
>"What?! Why wasn't I invited?"
>Lori put her hand on Lincoln's head tenderly.
>"Because you were in a coma, stupid."
>Lana looked up at Lori, confused.
>"I thought it was cuz Clyde's dads didn't want him--"
>Lori, mom, dad, and Lola gently rested a hand on her head and shoulders.
>Lola calmly told her to shut up.
>Lincoln had an empty, thousand yard stare. At the ceiling.
>At God.
>"Why didn't they want me there" he asked, almost without emotion.
>His father sighed.
>"Because my son was alive. And theirs wasn't."
>Lincoln spent the next few weeks recovering in traction.
>Despondent.
>Barely eating.
>Only ever responding to hugs and Luna's music.
>Silent tears to hugs.
>He seemed the most normal when singing along with Luna.
>He wouldn't talk to his sisters directly when it was their turn to spend time with him.
>But he always made sure to thank them for caring as they left.
>And try his best to hug them with broken arms.
>He was able to leave the hospital a month later.
>Needed a wheelchair to get around, with his left femur still shattered and pins on the other.
>The wrinkles around his eyes had become more pronounced.
>His father and Lori picked him up.
>Lincoln noticed they were dressed in black.
>As he was being helped into the car, Lincoln also noticed a black suit and some flowers in the backseat.
>"Are we going home, dad?"
>His dad gave him an understanding half-smile.
>"Not quite yet. I thought you'd want to say your goodbyes to your friend."
>Lincoln rode shotgun.
>Barely responding, simply staring out the window.
>With his lips pursed, dad opened his mouth a few times as if to find the words to comfort his son while they drove.
>Lori was in the second row window seat, right behind dad. She texted Bobby about how awkward things are. Bobby texted back that Ronnie Anne misses him and asked if Lincoln knew that Ronnie Anne visited him while he was in his coma. She left him flowers and a note, along with a peck on the cheek.
>"Your little girlfriend visited you while you were out, Lincoln." Lori said, not looking up from her phone.
>She didn't know how to say it any other way, and even she noticed how insensitive she sounded.
>She darted her eyes every which way, floundering for a way to improve what she said.
>"She uh, she was really happy you were okay! Even gave you a little kiss, you little playboy!"
>Lincoln looked at Lori through the rearview mirror. His face was sullen, but he gave a slight smile of appreciation for Lori's efforts.
>"Thanks, Lori."
>More silence. Lori went back to texting uncomfortably. They still didn't address the elephant in the room.
>With a deep sigh, dad took one hand off the wheel and put it on Lincoln's shoulder.
>"Clyde's parents don't blame you, son."
>Lincoln allowed himself to cry for the first time throughout this ordeal.
>"Yes they do."
>"No they don't, Lincoln. They just need time to mourn."
>Lori wiped away a tear.
>"Dammit, dad. I literally just got this makeup on right."
>They pulled up to the cemetery. The rest of the family was already there.
>Dressed appropriately.
>Thankfully, waiting at the right grave.
>A framed photo of Clyde was in front of his tombstone.
>His epitaph read "A loving son. A giving friend."
>Lori helped dress Lincoln, since he couldn't quite use his arms.
>He was rolled down the gravel road. Passing graves that did not matter to him.
>When he reached Clyde's, his had fresh flowers on them.
>From his parents.
>Lori picked up Clyde's photo. With a mourning sigh, she gives it a small kiss.
>"You earned that one." She said.
>Lincoln set his own flowers on Clyde's grave from his wheelchair.
>Everyone else took a few steps back to let him speak his mind freely to his friend.
>"I owe you my life."
>"You shouldn't have died."
>"Not like this."
>"Not this early."
>"But I'll make this up to you.
>"Someday."

>It took him a few days to work up the courage to call Clyde's parents.
>He knew they wouldn't pick up.
>The answering machine was a custom recording.
>Clyde. Asking for you to leave a message after the beep.
>Lincoln hung up the first time.
>He wasn't ready to hear that.
>But he tried again.
>And he left a message.
>"Misters McBride. It's Lincoln Loud. I..."
>What could he tell them?
>I'm sorry your son's the reason I'm alive?
>We had a deadpool going to see who'd die first?
>"My best friend saved my life that day.
>"And I want more than anything to give that life back."
>His voice was noticeably cracking.
>"But I don't know what to do.
>"I don't know how to make this right
>"How can I fix this?"
>They didn't call back.

>A subpoena arrived in the mail.
>The person behind the wheel was on trial for manslaughter.
>Lincoln was to be a witness.
>He hadn't even thought of this person until now.
>But he resolved to face the man that killed his friend.
>As he arrived to the courthouse, he rolled past Clyde's parents.
>They looked tired. Their eyes bloodshot.
>They couldn't cry any more.
>For the first time, they exchanged a solemn, acknowledging nod.
>In the courtroom, Lincoln was to afraid to look at the defendant.
>He wasn't called as a witness.
>But as sentencing came, the victim's families were allowed to speak.
>Clyde's fathers had a note prepared.
>I hate you. I'll hate you as long as I live. I hate that my son is dead because of you.
>And I hate that my tax dollars will be feeding you in prison.
>Lincoln had a turn to speak. He refused to look at the man. He was still too afraid to see.
>"I don't hate you, mister."
>The tears rolled down his cheeks. He couldn't wipe them away.
>His arms were still broken.
>"But I hate with all my heart what you've done to my friend."
>He was rolled away.
>The judge asked a few questions.
>"Irving Cuevas, before I sentence you, do you have any words to add too the record?"
>Lincoln expected a tirade of curses.
>Angry shouts.
>He heard barely a whisper.
>"I'm so sorry."
>He finally looked at the defendant.
>He was practically a teenager. Hispanic. Not much older than Lori. A thin, almost skeletal face. A small, fresh scar lined one side of his mouth in a tiny Glasgow grin.
>A wispy, barely grown mustache. And eyes cupped in his handcuffed hands.
>He looked like he hasn't slept in weeks.
>"I'm so sorry for the pain that I've caused."

>When Lincoln's hand got better, he decided to write the man in prison.
>His name was Irving. Irving Cuevas.
>He had just started college.
>Wanted to be a doctor.
>Had just gotten his driver's licence.
>Was seeing the prison priest every day before Lincoln wrote to him.
>They wrote back and forth for a while.
>Sharing their interests. Lincoln shared his love of Ace Savvy comics. Irving told him of his own love of the Monaco Falcón, a comic about a mild mannered detective who participated in vigilante street races as his alter ego, Capitán Falcón.
>Lincoln asked if Irving received any letters from family, or Clyde's parents.
>Nothing from Clyde's parents, he claims, but his parents write and visit him often.
>A few months later, Lincoln was able to walk again. And decided to visit him. With his parents, of course.
>He doesn't look bad in an orange jumpsuit.
>After a few awkward minutes, they really hit it off.
>Turns out his older brother had kids, and they were a lot like the Loud family.
>They shared a laugh. They shared a six pack of sodas. They also brought him a care package since they assumed prison food must not be that good.
>When mom went to the bathroom, dad gave Lincoln a can of beer.
>"At this point, you've earned it. Don't tell your mother."
>Irving promised to keep it a secret.
>At the end of the visit, Irving admitted Clyde's parents were sending him hate mail. He wrote back apologies every time.
>Lincoln got up, walked over to him, and put his hand on Irving's shoulder.
>"I forgive you Irving. Clyde would have too. It's just the kind of guy he was."
>Was. That caused Irving's eyes to well up a little.
>"I mean, hating you for what happened makes no sense. It was a total accident."
>Lincoln held chin in pensiveness.
>"All hating you would do is make me feel worse. Hating you more would be like if I gulp down a big cup of poison and then somehow expect you to die."
>Mom and dad looked as Lincoln in astonishment. He just learned a really complicated moral lesson in forgiveness.
>Irving looked down at the table.
>He had to accept what he had done.
>But he wasn't alone.
>"Thank you, Lincoln."
>"Hey, what are friends for?"
>Lincoln and his parents initiated a group hug with Irving before they left.
>And promised to visit again.