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What She'd Been Missing	By : Trillhouse Category: +G through L > The Loud House Views: 8870 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own The Loud House, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 10
- 11
- 12
"So, um… y-you're really okay, then?" Loan asked. "Your stomach, I mean…"
"Mmhm." Bobby muttered, his eyes focused on the action on-screen. "...I'm fine." Loan gave a small nod of acknowledgement, shifting focus back to the game and clicking her tongue in irritation as she noticed she'd slipped back into 3rd place. Granted, this was still better than Bobby who, even with his sister's advice in mind, had barely even managed to stay in 10th. Perhaps 200cc was simply too difficult for him at his current skill level, but at least he had Loan to carry him through the cup regardless.
"That was close," Loan sighed as Waluigi managed to slip past Peach and Toad, securing 1st place at the last second. As her character did a victory lap, punching the air in celebration, Loan watched her little brother's half of the screen as he drifted right into another wall. "Um, on 200cc it's not always a good idea to drift…"
"...Starting to see that, yeah…" Bobby grumbled. Loan stifled a giggle at his resigned frustration. Over a minute later, he finally crossed the finish line in last place… well after the other racers had completed their circuit. "I don't know why I bother…" The boy groaned in defeat.
"Don't say that…" Loan said. "I mean, it's not something you get good at overnight… I wasn't any better at your age. A-actually… if anything, I was even worse."
"...Really?" Bobby perked up slightly, to Loan's amusement. She gave the boy a warm smile and nodded, and his lips curled into a small smirk. "W-well… I guess I could keep playing, then…"
"Not tonight," Lincoln interrupted as he stepped into the room, chuckling softly as the pair jumped in surprise. "Bedtime, sport. You'll have to save it till tomorrow."
"Already…?" Bobby glanced at the clock, frowning as he noticed the time. Despite his repeated crushing defeats, it felt like he and Loan had barely even started playing. Guess time does fly when you're having fun, he thought. "...Okay," The boy mumbled.
"Go get in your pajamas and brush your teeth… I'll come say goodnight in a bit," His father said before heading back out the door. Bobby sighed and put the console to sleep before getting to his feet.
"Um, thanks for playing with me, Loan…" Bobby muttered. "Sorry we didn't have more time…"
"Oh, it's alright. There's always tomorrow," His sister assured him. "A-and it'll be the weekend, so we're going to have plenty of time, right?" The boy raised his eyebrows slightly, then smirked and gave a small nod. Just another reason to look forward to the weekend, as if he needed one.
"Well… good night, then," Bobby said. "I guess I'll see you in the morning… if you're up, I mean…"
"Heh, yeah… I guess we'll see, huh?" Loan said with self-deprecating laugh. As much as her sleeping schedule had improved, it was still far from perfect, and there was no way of telling exactly when she may wake up. Still, Ronnie's breakfasts were a definite incentive to do so. "Goodnight, Bobby." The siblings exchanged a smile, before an awkward silence fell between them. Even after a month of living with the boy, Loan was unsure of their exact boundaries; should she give him a goodnight hug? A pat on the head? A wave? Perhaps she could simply ask him, but...
By all means, go ahead. Make this as weird as possible.
"...Um…" Bobby cleared his throat, snapping Loan out of her thoughts. "I… have to get ready for bed, so…"
"Oh, I, um… r-right! S-sorry..." Loan stammered, her cheeks turning a light pink. "Good night...!" The girl gave an awkward, forced laugh, shuffling out of the room only to peek back in. "A-And sweet dreams!" Before Bobby could respond, Loan was gone again; he could only stand there in confusion before shaking it off and going about his business. His sister was a strange one, no doubt about that… but he couldn't help but find her awkwardness refreshing. For once, he didn't feel like he was the only one.
Bobby changed into his rocket ship pajamas and, before heading to the bathroom to brush his teeth, glanced over at the folder sitting on his desk. The boy frowned and furrowed his brow in uncertainty. Had he made the right call? He was sure he could finish it before school, but it was still far from a guarantee. Perhaps, if he was sneaky enough, he could do it after his father had gone to bed for the night… though the last thing he wanted was to get in trouble for staying up past his bedtime. With a small sigh, Bobby left the room.
It'll be fine, he thought to himself.

"Damn, sounds like you had a pretty wild day."
"Yeah, that's putting it lightly…" Luna muttered, taking a bite of her steak. She and her wife were eating dinner in their hotel room, a penthouse suite no less extravagant than their last; they'd considered seeing what the city had to offer, but between the long trip and Luna's eventful day they were both just too knackered to bother. Besides, they had a damn nice view from their room, so they were technically seeing the city, right?
"It's surprising, though."
"Which part?"
"A kid living on the streets, all by herself," Sam said. "I mean, this is America, y'know? Not some third-world country."
"Just 'cause it's rare doesn't mean it doesn't happen here too," Luna said once she'd swallowed a bite of food. "Guess it's just one of those problems that nobody wants to talk about." Sam frowned, giving a small nod.
"I guess… but it's kind of sad," Sam said softly. "She's just a little girl. Is it really okay to just leave her on her own like that?" Luna sighed and shrugged.
"I don't know, Sam… she seemed to be managing pretty well, and I doubt she'd have accepted any help anyway." The woman explained.
"But there must be something we can do, right?" Sam asked. Her wife pursed her lips in thought, idly poking at her meal with her fork.
"...Might be. I'll think on it," She promised. "But first, I wanna give Allie the night of her life."
"And Jerry's fine with it?"
"Oh no, he bitched up a storm, that's for sure." Luna snorted. "But y'know. I changed his mind, as usual." The couple shared a laugh at that. For all his bluster, at the end of the day Jerry had always been a pushover to the Nth degree. Perhaps he was simply worried that he'd lose his main bread-and-butter if he restricted them too much. In any case, they weren't complaining.
"Well, speaking of the show… you sure you're gonna be ready?" Sam asked. "You've been pretty out of sorts lately, but you seem… I dunno. Livelier, today."
"Livelier, huh…" The brunette muttered. "...I guess."
"Newfound motivation, maybe?" Sam suggested with a sly smirk.
"Hey… first concerts are life-changing. Can't let down a fan, y'know." Sam couldn't help but chuckle softly; some things never changed, and Luna's view on first concerts was one of them. Of course, that enthusiasm was one of the many reasons she'd fallen for the woman in the first place.
"Either way, sounds like a good cause to me. Actually kinda looking forward to meeting her, she sounds like a real trip." Sam said. Luna gave a small grunt in response, idly poking at her food as she was lost in thought. The prime rib was delicious, but after spending an afternoon with a girl living in such squalor it felt… excessive, somehow. Unfair. She wondered if Allie ever had the chance to eat or, hell, even taste something so good. But for Luna, this was an ordinary occurrence. Lavish hotels, high-class meals and opulence were simply part of being a rock star, and somewhere over the years she'd started taking it for granted. The woman sighed, and Sam tilted her head in concern. "Luna? You alright, babe?"
"Huh?" Luna shook out of her stupor. "Oh, um… yeah. Yeah, I'm good." She gave her wife a small smile of reassurance before returning to her food. Not that she had all that much of an appetite anymore, but she wasn't about to waste a single scrap.

"Oh, come on…" Loan groaned, lowering her controller to her lap. Another try, another loss; Deathbringer Alazar had barely more than a sliver of life left before a sudden attack drained over half her HP in one fell swoop. Far too fast to counter, to the point where Loan had to question just how one was supposed to beat him.
Well, the "answer" to that was pretty clear: for the low, low price of $15 she could unlock the elite weapons pack, all but guaranteeing her victory. Loan scowled at the large popup advertising this offer on the continue screen. It wasn't that Loan couldn't afford it, or that she was opposed to DLC in general… lord knew she had blown her fair share of cash on it over the years. Rather, it was the principle of it. The sheer, blatant audacity of it frustrated her to no end, and she'd become determined to clear the game with nothing more than the core tools it offered. It wasn't impossible, after all. Just very, very difficult.
And very, very frustrating.
Loan frowned and glanced over at the clock. It was already just past midnight… she'd been playing ever since Bobby went to bed, and even she knew when it was time to take a break. Setting down the controller beside her, Loan slid out of bed, groaning as she suddenly became aware of how sore she was. She must have been sitting in the same hunched-over position for hours now, and boy was she suffering for it.
You never learn. And you never will.
Loan grumbled under her breath and rubbed the back of her neck. It hurt, sure, but it was nothing some aspirin couldn't fix. Besides, she needed a drink of water anyway. So, after a quick trip to the bathroom Loan carefully made her way down the stairs, counting each step as she descended. As comfortable and inviting as her new home was during the day, it became surprisingly eerie at night, even more so than her mother's apartment; each creak of the floorboards, each tick of the wall clock, each faint breath seemed so much louder amidst the deafening silence. She knew it was safe of course, but she found it somewhat unnerving nonetheless.
As Loan reached the bottom of the stairs, she noticed a faint glow coming from within the dining room or, more specifically, the kitchen. For a moment, Loan froze in place; why was the light on? Was someone else in the house? Could she get jumped at any moment? Should she find some sort of weapon?!
OR, you could stop freaking the fuck out and remember other people live here too.
Loan swallowed and tip-toed to the dining room entrance, cautiously peeking around the corner to find that, indeed, someone else was in the house; thankfully, rather than some brazen intruder it was none other than Ronnie, seated before a steaming cup of tea at the small table within the kitchen. Loan breathed a sigh of relief, mentally chiding herself for assuming the worst. Ronnie usually did get home around this time, after all.
"Um… Ronnie?" Loan said softly so as not to startle the woman. Ronnie raised her head, and for a brief moment Loan noticed a vague look of irritation in her eyes before giving the girl a tired smile.
"Hey there, Loan," She said. "You're up late… guess that's nothing new though. How're you doing?"
"Oh, I'm fine…" Loan said as she entered the kitchen. "Um, are you alright, though? Y-you look kind of… you know. Like me." Ronnie chuckled softly at her stepdaughter's joke before catching herself and clearing her throat.
"Come on, don't tear yourself down like that." She muttered, before giving the girl a reassuring smile. "But I'm fine… just had a long day."
"I see... that's good. I-I mean, not good, but better than... bad...?" Loan's voice grew shaky and less certain with each word, and Ronnie couldn't help but snicker; she had to admit, Loan's awkwardness could be surprisingly cute at times.
"Sure, let's go with that." Ronnie said. "Anyway, did you need something?"
"O-oh, right! I just needed some water, that's all…"
"Well, as long as you're here, would you like to join me? There's enough left for a second cup," She offered, gesturing towards the still-steaming teapot on the stove. Loan perked up a bit; a nice cup of tea did sound pretty appealing at the moment.
"I… um, sure. Thank you," Loan said with a smile, and Ronnie started to get up. "No, y-you don't need to get up! I can do it… um, u-unless you want to get up, of course… sorry…" Her stepmother cocked an eyebrow, shrugged, and sat back down.
"Suit yourself. Thanks, Loan." The two exchanged a smile before Loan set about preparing her tea; not that it needed anything more than a little honey, of course. Loan took her steaming cup and took a seat across from Ronnie, blowing on her tea before carefully taking a sip. A bit too hot still, but otherwise perfect. "So how're you doing, niña?" Ronnie asked. "We haven't really had much time to talk since… well, since your mom left. How're you holding up?"
"About as well as I could be, I guess…" Loan muttered, idly staring into her teacup. "It's, um… I-I don't even know how to explain it. Despite… e-everything, my mom's always been the biggest part of my life and… a-and I don't know. It's all still kind of sinking in, I guess." Ronnie frowned and nodded in understanding. Despite her own issues with the woman, Ronnie knew she and Loan cared deeply for one another. Separating was never easy, and she could only assume it was even more difficult for a girl like Loan. Regardless, the girl shook off her concerns and looked up at her stepmother. "A-anyway, um… you said you had a long day? Did something happen?" Ronnie sighed and slumped her shoulders.
"Nothing in particular, just… same old shit, I guess." The woman grumbled before taking a sip of her tea. "Demanding guests. Kitchen staff that doesn't know the difference between a teaspoon and a tablespoon. Lazy sous chef that expects me to do half his job for him, and blames me whenever someone fucks up. Same old, same old."
"I see… it sounds pretty rough."
"It can be, sure." Ronnie said plainly, before shrugging and letting out a soft chuckle. "But such is the life of a chef, I guess. It is what it is." Loan frowned and sipped at her tea. She didn't exactly have much of a reference point for this sort of thing; she'd never even had so much as a part-time job after all, let alone as a chef. Heck, she couldn't even cook. But what she could tell was that despite her efforts to laugh it off, there was a clear bitterness in her stepmother's tone.
"Um…" Loan began, setting down her teacup. "Can I ask you something?"
"Shoot."
"Do you, um… do you like what you do…?" The girl asked. Ronnie paused, her teacup inches from her lips; then, she took a deep gulp before setting it on its saucer.
"That's… a tricky question, honestly," She said. "If you're talking about cooking, absolutely. I love cooking." Loan smirked and nodded. Ronnie was a great cook after all… she could only assume that it was a deep passion of hers. "As for working as a chef… well, I did enjoy it, once. Lately, not so much."
"Oh…" Loan muttered. "Well, what changed? I-if you don't mind me asking, that is…" Ronnie pursed her lips in thought.
"Parenthood, I guess," The woman replied with a short laugh. "Things change once you have a kid. Time's more important than it used to be. And, I don't know, maybe I changed, too. Or…" Ronnie's smile faded slightly, and she let out a short sigh. "I guess… maybe I just became disillusioned with it all."
"Disillusioned?" Loan tilted her head in confusion. Ronnie nodded and leaned back in her chair. For a few seconds, she didn't speak… she simply drummed her fingers against the table, a wistful look crossing her face. Loan frowned. "Um… Ronnie…?"
"This job was never supposed to be long-term. I always had this dream," Ronnie said softly. "Or, I don't know, this goal of opening my own place someday. Nothing major, just a little cafe or diner or… something. Something all my own, that I could really take pride in. That was the plan, anyway… I was saving up for it and everything."
"Then why didn't you?" Loan asked. Her stepmother paused to take another sip of tea.
"Well… Bobby came along," She explained. "I mean, we'd planned for that, of course. But you can only plan for so much, you know? Sometimes… sometimes things just don't go the way you expect. Or the way they should." Ronnie's voice trailed off and, again, Loan saw something in her eyes that she couldn't quite place. Resignation, maybe, or perhaps regret. In any case, it was clear that it was something that weighed on her far more heavily than she cared to admit.
"Um… w-well…" Loan mumbled, fidgeting uneasily as she searched for the right words. "Well… you still could, right…? M-maybe things didn't work out before, but that doesn't mean you should just… give up on your dreams. Right…?"
"Well, I haven't given up on it, just… I dunno." Ronnie sighed and scratched the back of her head. "It's not really in the cards at the moment."
"Is it money…?" Loan asked. "I mean, a small restaurant couldn't cost… that… much…?" Loan trailed off as she noticed her stepmother staring at her with a raised eyebrow. "I-I-I mean… um…" The girl let out a nervous laugh and sipped at her tea. "N-not that I'd know…"
"Try $50k." Ronnie's answer nearly made Loan spit out her tea, and she couldn't help but snicker at the girl's shocked expression. "And that's minimum. We could take out a loan or dip into our emergency savings, but it'd be a huge gamble. The kind we can't afford to take right now, you know?"
"I-I see…" The girl stammered, a look of guilt crossing her face. "I'm sorry, I guess… I don't know much about… um…"
Being a functional human being?
"...Adulting…"
Case in point.
"Relax, you're fine," Ronnie said with a dismissive wave of her hand. "I didn't know much about 'adulting' at your age either. Heck, even now I feel like I'm only scratching the surface. Life ain't easy, that's for sure."
"Heh… I guess not." Loan said. Ronnie smirked and downed the rest of her tea, letting out a satisfied sigh as she set the cup back on its saucer.
"Man, I needed that…" Ronnie muttered. She got to her feet and stretched, letting out a long yawn. "...and now I need to pass out till morning. Sorry, Loan… I'd keep you company, but-"
"I-it's fine!" Loan assured her. "You had a long day. I'm sorry I kept you-"
"Nah, it's all good. Honestly, I appreciate it… kinda needed an ear, y'know?" The older woman said as she took her cup and saucer and placed them in the sink. She'd worry about washing them tomorrow… she was just too tired to deal with it at the moment. "Anyway, I guess I'll see you in the morning," Ronnie said with a smile. "You should get some sleep yourself. Playing those games all night can't be good for you."
"Heh, m-maybe…" Loan giggled. "Goodnight, Ronnie."
"Night, Loan," Her stepmother replied. As she headed for the door, however, Loan turned in her chair.
"Um… Ronnie?"
"Hm?"
"I, uh…" The girl stammered. "Y-you're a great chef. I think anyone would agree. So… I don't know… maybe that gamble will be worth taking someday?" Ronnie's eyebrows rose slightly, and Loan glanced away with a nervous laugh. "I-I mean… I think so, anyway…" For a moment, Ronnie said nothing; then, a smile slowly spread across the woman's face.
"...Maybe it will." She said. She patted her stepdaughter's shoulder and the two exchanged a grin before she made her exit. "Don't forget to turn out the light when you're done. Goodnight, Loan."
"I-I won't!" Loan assured her, and with that she once again found herself alone, albeit in a cheerier mood than she had been before. She liked Ronnie, and it struck her that she really didn't know the woman as well as she perhaps should have… clearly, she had a lot more on her plate than Loan had thought.
And here you are adding on to her stress. Some stepdaughter you are.
Loan sighed and quickly gulped down the rest of her tea. She set her cup and saucer in the sink and, as promised, shut off the light on the way out. Once again the house was beset with an eerie silence, but Loan found it didn't bother her quite as much… perhaps due to the tea lifting her spirits, or perhaps because speaking with Ronnie had reassured her that she wasn't alone here.
Don't delude yourself, Loan. You'll ALWAYS be alone.
"Ugh, just stop already…" Loan grumbled. After another stop at the bathroom she returned to her room, shutting the door behind her. She brought her hand to her mouth to stifle a yawn, then glanced at the TV screen, her game still sitting idle. She'd fully intended to keep playing, but after a nice cup of chamomile tea she couldn't help but feel a bit drowsy. Besides, it would be better to recharge her batteries and return with a clear mind than keep throwing herself against a brick wall. She'd only get even more frustrated, after all.
Why, you might even say a no-no word, heaven forbid.
Loan put her console to sleep and set her controller on the nightstand before getting into bed. She sighed in comfort as her back met the soft mattress. Even through her t-shirt the sheets were pleasantly cool to the touch, and it didn't take long for the girl to fall into a peaceful slumber.

Allie couldn't sleep.
It wasn't that she wasn't tired, far from it in fact… a life as active as hers would wear out any kid her age, no matter what shape they were in. However, the girl was simply too wired to sleep after the day's events. She'd met Luna Loud, her hero, face-to-face. She'd spoken to her. Robbed her. Gotten kicked in the face by her.
Well… perhaps that last one wasn't a highlight of the encounter, but as far as Allie was concerned it was still pretty neat.
As she lay on her ratty old mattress, Allie's attention was drawn to the light tik-tak of clawed paws scurrying across the floor, smirking as she spotted her rodent companion returning from a night of scavenging for food.
"Hey hey, Charlie," She greeted, outstretching her hand to her little friend. The rat sniffed at her fingers before nuzzling against the girl's palm. "Was wonderin' when y'was gonna show up. Y'know I don't like it when yer out so late." If Charlie comprehended any of what she was saying, he didn't show it, simply climbing along Allie's arm and onto her chest. He pawed at it for a few moments then hunkered down, nestling into her before flopping onto his side and curling up. With a yawn, the critter shut his eyes and quickly fell into a peaceful slumber. Allie chuckled and gently scratched the top of the rat's head. This had been their nightly arrangement for quite some time; at first she'd been concerned she might roll over in her sleep and crush the little guy, but they'd been sleeping like this for quite some time without incident.
Allie laid her head back against the ratty old mattress, with little more than some bundled-up rags serving as her pillow. She thought about tomorrow, and whether or not Luna would keep her promise to come back. Not that she doubted the woman, but she was certainly skeptical; she was a street rat after all, and even the time they'd already spent together was more than she could ever have hoped for. Hell, it still felt unreal… things like that simply didn't happen to people like her. Even now part of her wondered if it had all been some wonderful, vivid dream, something her mind had conjured up to bring some joy to her otherwise rough life. But the dull ache of her nose said otherwise, proving that she had, in fact, been kicked in the face.
By someone, at least.
Allie sighed and shut her eyes. There was no use dwelling on it now… she'd just have to wait and see what tomorrow held.

The captain clenched his teeth and gripped the armrests tightly as another direct hit jolted the ship. His senses were overtaken by the frantic shouting of crewmen as they scrambled to their feet, the blinding light of flying sparks and the pungent burnt smell of fried electronics. He cursed himself for allowing the Klingons to get the jump on him like this; federation-controlled zone or not, he should have known better than to drop his guard in the midst of a war. Now, he and his crew found themselves facing down a Klingon battle cruiser with no support. Worse still, the first hit had taken out their communications system, meaning they had no way to send out a distress signal.
"Captain! Shield generators are offline!"
"Engage auxiliary power!"
"It's no good, Captain! Shields are failing!"
"Return fire, then! Give them everything we've got!"
"Weapons are offline! We've got nothing, Captain!" The captain cursed under his breath. "W-what do we do now?!" His heart was pounding in his chest, his brow drenched with a cold sweat. He desperately wracked his brain for some sort of plan… some way to, if nothing else, save as many of his crewmen as possible. For years he'd proudly served the Federation, his leadership earning him widespread recognition among his peers… but only now when he needed it most did his training and experience fail him. "Captain?!"
"I'm… I'm thinking…!" The captain spat. The pounding in his chest grew louder and louder as the Klingon warship's cannon once again began to crackle with energy.
"They've got us locked down!"
"CAPTAIN!"
"I'm THINKING!"
"Brace for impact!" The cannon fired, and time seemed to slow down as a glowing photon torpedo streaked through the atmosphere, straight towards the unprotected starship. This was it… they had no defenses, no way to evade or counter their incoming fate. The captain squeezed his eyes shut and gripped the armrest so tightly that his knuckles turned white.
"Bobby! Wake up!"
"Nnn… huh…?" Bobby began to stir as someone grasped his shoulder and shook him. His eyes flitted open only to meet the blurred image of someone-or something-looming over him. "EEK!" The boy yelped, scrambling away from the intruder.
"Gah!" The figure recoiled and, as Bobby's vision slowly came into focus, he realized that the 'something' in question was his father… who, quite frankly, looked no less startled than his son was. "Easy there, sport."
"H-huh… dad…?" The boy slurred, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "Wha… what're you doing…" His father's expression grew stern.
"That's what I was going to ask you. What on earth are you still doing in bed?!" Lincoln asked. Bobby blinked, staring at his father in confusion.
"Huh…? It's-" Bobby glanced over at the clock, and his heart nearly plummeted into his stomach. It was 8:20… less than an hour before he had to be at school. "O-oh… oh, no…" He gasped. "I-I overslept?!"
"No kidding… did you forget to set your alarm?" Lincoln sighed. "Come on, Bobby… you should know better than that." His son groaned and buried his face in his palm.
"S-sorry…" Bobby muttered. His father was right; he did know better than that, and like most aspects of his daily routine he was usually quite diligent in doing so.
"Well your breakfast's waiting for you, so hurry and get dressed," Lincoln said. "You're lucky I came up when I did." Bobby nodded and slid out of bed. Again, his father was right… he overslept, but all things considered it wasn't that bad. He'd have to rush a bit, sure, but barring any further setbacks he'd still be able to get to school on-
Oh.
Oh, no.
"...Bobby?" Lincoln cocked an eyebrow in confusion as his son froze up and grew pale. "Hey, Earth to Bobby. You okay, there, bud?" He snapped his fingers to get the boy's attention. Bobby swallowed and gave an unsure nod as an unconvincing smile crept along his face.
"Y-yeah… just fine…" The boy let out a forced, awkward laugh. "Just, uh, n-need to get ready, so…" Lincoln's brow furrowed suspiciously, and Bobby could barely even make eye contact with the man; nonetheless, Lincoln shrugged and turned to leave.
"Alright, but don't dawdle. I want to see you downstairs in ten minutes, alright?"
"Y-yeah! Sure thing!" Bobby promised. With that, his father made his exit. No sooner had the door shut behind him than Bobby dropped to his knees, burying his face in his hands with a long groan. His homework. He still hadn't done his homework. Of all the times to slip up, why did it have to be now? He knew he should have bit the bullet and done it last night, like he was supposed to… and sure enough, he was immediately being punished for his hubris.
Okay, Bobby… relax, he told himself. You still have time. He was a smart boy, after all… surely he could speed through it before class started, provided he made it to school in time. Sure, it wouldn't be his best work, but it would be better than no work at all, right? He could do this. He knew he could do it. So with a deep breath and a nod of determination, Bobby went about getting ready for the day. He quickly got changed and grabbed his backpack, zipping it up before slinging it over his shoulder and heading out to the hallway. He stopped by the bathroom to brush his teeth, before remembering that he was supposed to shower too. As much as Bobby hated to add yet another lie to the pile, desperate times called for desperate measures; he settled for simply sticking his head under the shower nozzle for a few seconds, just enough to give the impression that he'd taken a proper shower. A spray or two of the children's cologne usually reserved for family affairs, and no one would be the wiser.
He hoped.
Bobby hurried downstairs and into the dining room where he found his father already clearing the table, or his and Ronnie's side at least… Loan was still picking away at her omelet, while his own sat untouched beside her. He could hear the clatter of pots and pans from the kitchen as his mother did the dishes.
"There you are," Lincoln said. "Good. I was about to go check on you." Loan peered over her shoulder and beamed at him, giving the boy a friendly wave.
"Good morning, Bobby!" She said warmly. Bobby couldn't help but return her warm smile, even in his current state of urgency.
"Good morning, Loan..." Bobby set down his backpack and let out a grunt as he climbed into his chair. He noticed that Loan had barely touched her own omelet… granted, her habit of separating her food always made her a bit slower than most, but it was still unusual. "Um… w-were you waiting for me…? You didn't have to do that…"
"Oh, it's fine," Loan said with a small laugh. "S-sorry, though… I should have woken you, but-"
"It's alright," Bobby assured her. "...It's my fault, anyway."
"No use dwelling on it now," Lincoln said as he returned from the kitchen, sitting down opposite the pair. "Though you'd better hurry up if you don't want to be late." Bobby nodded and grabbed the nearby bottle of hot sauce, spreading some over his omelet before setting it aside and digging-or rather, tearing-into his breakfast like he hadn't eaten in ages. Loan had to stifle a laugh at the sight; Bobby was usually a well-mannered and polite eater, but in his current rush he had little choice but to unceremoniously scarf down his food as quickly as possible. Lincoln grimaced in disgust, but Loan couldn't help but find it strangely endearing. "...Maybe... you don't need to hurry that much, Bobby."
"S-sorry…" Bobby mumbled through a mouthful of food before swallowing. Loan giggled into her palm, making the boy turn a light shade of pink, and he quickly lowered his head to keep eating. His father simply shook his head with a chuckle and turned his attention to Loan.
"So, Loan… have you heard from your mother at all?"
"Mmhm…" Loan gave a nod, swallowing a bite of her omelet. "She's been messaging me. We… haven't really talked, though…" Lincoln nodded in understanding. He hadn't expected them to mend things so easily after all, though it was good that they were at least keeping contact with one another. "Um… she sent some photos, though. Tokyo seems really nice."
"I'll bet," Lincoln said with a smirk. "Hope I can go myself, some day. Always wanted to, ever since I was a kid."
"Me too… t-though, I don't think I could even handle visiting another country… I mean, I've never even left the state, let alone flown on a plane… a-all the way up in the sky…" Loan shuddered, turning a bit pale at the thought.
"...It's not that bad," Bobby chimed in. "At least, from what I remember…"
"Oh, you've flown?" Loan asked.
"Mmhm."
"About two years ago, we took a trip to Mexico with some of Ronnie's family. Here…" Lincoln took his phone from his pocket, searching through it for a moment before a smile crossed his face. He handed the phone off to Loan, and she was met with a photograph of her father, Ronnie and, of course, Bobby; they were in Mexico city, smiling brightly before the Angel of Independence and accompanied by several others who Loan could only assume were the aforementioned relatives. Bobby was even tinier than he was now, but wore a small smile even as he nervously buried himself into his mother's side. He was also wearing a pancho that was clearly several sizes too big for him, almost to the point of dragging across the ground.
"O-oh my gosh… Bobby! You look so cute~!" Loan practically squealed at the sight, making her little brother bow his head even further in embarrassment. "You look like you were having a good time."
"I-I was, I guess…" Bobby mumbled under his breath. Lincoln rolled his eyes and took the phone back from Loan.
"He was," Lincoln said. "It was a bit of a culture shock for the little guy, but Ronnie figured it would be good for him to get in touch with his roots."
"Good for all of us," Ronnie added as she exited the kitchen with Bobby's lunch box in hand. "My mom didn't really teach us much about our culture, and… well, let's just say my abuela made me catch up on it real quick." The woman chuckled and set the lunchbox down on the table, leaning down to kiss her son on the cheek. "Good morning, sleepyhead."
"Good morning, mom…" Bobby said with a small smile. He gave her a one-armed hug around the waist. "S-sorry I overslept, I-"
"No apologies," Ronnie said. "Just finish breakfast and get going before you're late." Her son nodded and continued eating, and Loan too started picking away at her omelet at a noticeably faster pace. Ronnie raised an eyebrow. "...I meant Bobby, Loan. You don't need to rush."
"O-oh… right…" Loan mumbled, her cheeks turning a light pink as her family snickered into their palms.
Well done.
"Anyway, I've got to get started on the laundry. Lincoln, you mind handling the rest of the dishes?"
"Not at all, honey." Lincoln replied.
"Thank you. Oh, Loan… I could use some help when you're finished, if you don't mind." Ronnie offered.
"Oh, um, sure…!" Loan agreed. She was far from fond of doing chores, but being asked to help felt nice; it felt like she was useful for a change.
Keep telling yourself that.
"I'm done," Bobby said, pushing his now-clean plate forward. "...Thanks, mom. It was really good."
"You think so? I tried a new recipe today, but I wasn't sure-"
"Honey," Lincoln cut in, gesturing towards the clock with his head. His wife cleared her throat.
"R-right. Hurry along then, niñito. You don't want to be late." Bobby nodded and slid out of his chair. His mother kneeled down to help him put on his backpack, and sighed as she tried in vain to tidy up the boy's wild hair. "We really need to find a gel that works on you… alright, love. Have a good day, and be safe."
"I will." Bobby and his mother shared a hug before the woman got to her feet, and he turned to his father and Loan. "...See you after school."
"Seeya, sport," Lincoln said with a smile.
"Have a good day…!" Loan beamed at the boy. "And, um… like Ronnie said, be safe."
"I wi-"
"L-look out for cars," Loan continued, "A-and don't talk to strangers… or follow them…"
"...I-"
"And, um… i-if you get lost, be sure to call…"
"I know my w-"
"I-I mean dad, not me. I-I don't really know my way around, s-so-"
"Loan." Lincoln cut in; he looked as though he were either trying not to laugh or cringe from second-hand embarrassment. "...I think he gets it." His daughter turned beet red, lowering her head and giving a small nod.
"...H-have a good day," She squeaked.
Fucking Christ, that was unbearable.
"Um…" Bobby blinked, somewhat taken aback by his sister's rambling, but he supposed that was par for the course with her. Besides, she meant well. "...You too," He said with a smile. With that, Bobby hurried through the laundry room door to the garage, leaving his embarrassed sister in his wake. Loan whimpered and buried her face in her palm, and Ronnie couldn't help but laugh softly at her stepdaughter's plight.
"D-don't feel so bad, Loan," She managed to say between laughs, gently patting the girl's shoulder. "It's sweet that you worry about him so much, but he's a responsible little guy." Loan groaned and gave a small nod.
Don't worry, Loan. At least your failure is entertaining.

Bobby wasted no time on his way to school, his short legs pedalling as fast as they could and only stopping at crossings as briefly as possible, making sure no cars were immediately approaching before speeding across and continuing on his way. Normally, he'd be more cautious, but if he wanted to finish his homework before class he had no time to waste.
The boy screeched to a stop at the entrance, hopping off his bike and practically running it to the bike rack. Once he'd chained and locked it to the rack, he hurried into the school and made a beeline for his locker. The halls were crowded, as expected, and Bobby had little time to waste; he simply pushed his way through, mumbling out awkward apologies to anyone he happened to bump into along the way. By the time he made it to his locker he was sweating and gasping for air, but he felt relieved nonetheless. There was still a little under fifteen minutes left… surely that would be enough time to-
"Hey, Dobby." The boy winced as a familiar, snide-sounding voice rang out from behind him. He shut his eyes and took a deep breath before turning, finding himself face-to-sneering face with Hayden. Andy, of course, was right there by his side. "There you are… was starting to get worried. Andy here thought you were gonna leave us hanging, but you're too smart for that, ain't ya?" The older boy tousled Bobby's hair or, more accurately, roughly jostled him by the head. Then, quickly as it had come, Hayden's smirk faded to a cold, threatening glare. "Well? You did do it, right…?"
"Y-yes! Of course…!" Bobby stammered; he practically threw off his backpack, quickly rifling through it and pulling out the folder containing their homework. Hayden snatched it from his hand and took a look inside, quickly flipping through the pages before grinning once more.
"Well well, not bad, Dobby."
"Yeah, guess you're good for somethin' after all, huh?" His cohort snickered, giving the boy a 'playful' shove that nearly made him slam into the lockers.
"...Guess so…" Bobby grumbled, brushing out the wrinkles before opening his locker, being sure to hide the combination with his hand. "So… that's it, right? I-I did what you wanted, so-"
"Well, I guess we'll see." Hayden said with a shrug. "For your sake, I hope you did a good job."
"...I did," The smaller boy replied plainly.
"Like I said… we'll see."
"Yeah, we'll see." Andy repeated. "C'mon, Hayden. Let's get to class."
"Right. Later, Dobby… or not, if you're lucky." Hayden and Andy shared a laugh as they walked off, leaving the boy to gather his books in peace. Not that it did much to brighten his day; Bobby sighed as he tucked what he needed away in his backpack, then shut and locked his locker. Quite frankly, he didn't expect his bullies to lay off any time soon… but he supposed he should be grateful for some reprieve, at least for the time being.
"Good morning, Robert." Mrs. Heathers greeted him as he entered the classroom; he mumbled a half-hearted 'hello' as he rushed to his desk, sitting down with a little under ten minutes to spare. The boy took a deep breath, then sighed in relief. He wasn't used to rushing like that, but he had little time to catch his breath. He glanced at Mrs. Heathers, who was preoccupied with jotting something down at her desk. Good… he had no doubt that she'd have some choice words for him if she noticed him rushing through his homework minutes before class started. A tiny smirk crossed Bobby's face and he unzipped his bag, rummaging through it for his homework folder. It wouldn't be his best work, but he supposed even a rush job was better than nothing at-
...Oh.
Oh, no.
No, no, no.
Bobby's eyes widened in horror as he rifled through his backpack. It wasn't there. He thoroughly dug through the bag, even taking out the books within and setting them on his desk. Nothing. He checked the outer pouches, even the ones too small to possibly hold it. Nothing. He didn't have his homework. It made no sense… had he given it to Hayden by mistake? Or-
His desk.
Bobby slumped back in his chair in defeat. His desk… the previous night he'd gotten out his homework to finish in the morning, and set the folder right there on his desk. He'd been in such a rush that he'd neglected to grab it before leaving for school. And now he was here, and the homework was there, and there wasn't a single thing he could do about it. There was no time to ride back home. He certainly couldn't call his parents. He couldn't even ask his teacher for a replacement, not without defeating the whole purpose of this anyway. He was screwed.
BRRRRIIIING. The school bell may as well have been the boy's death knell. He barely even registered that Mrs. Heathers was speaking before the class, let alone what she was saying; nor did he notice when she began making her way down the rows, right to left, gathering the homework of the other students. Bobby was simply frozen in place, his mind racing and his wide eyes focusing on nothing in particular. He'd messed up. He should have known better… heck, he did know better than to procrastinate on his responsibilities. But he did anyway. He chose to do what he wanted instead of what he had to, and now he was paying the price. It wasn't fair… he always followed the rules, always did what he had to do. He was responsible. And now, the one time he decided to put his own desires first, karma had immediately struck back twice as hard.
"Robert?" Bobby was snapped from his self-pity by his teacher, standing at his desk with a stack of papers in hand. "Your homework, please." Bobby stared up at her in silence, his mouth hanging agape. What was he supposed to say?
"A-ah…" The boy tried to speak, but all that escaped his throat was a feeble wheeze. Mrs. Heathers stared at him in confusion, and others were starting to follow suit. He had to say something. "Ah.. I… I…"
"Robert," The woman repeated in a more forceful tone. "Your homework, please."
"I-I… I don't… I…" Bobby wheezed. He lowered his head, taking a deep breath, trying to gather his composure. "I-I don't… I don't have it…" He managed to squeak out. For a moment, his teacher didn't respond; she simply stared at him with a furrowed brow.
"You don't have it…? Did you forget it at home?" She asked. "If your parents are willing to drop it off-"
"N-no, I… I… um…" Bobby whimpered. "I… I didn't do it…" Again, silence; he could practically feel Mrs. Heathers' eyes on him, as well as those of his classmates.
"You… didn't do it." The woman repeated. Bobby shook his head.
"I… I-I'm sor-"
"Robert. Look people in the eye when you're speaking to them," Mrs. Heathers snapped. Bobby wrung his hands anxiously, forcing himself to meet his teacher's gaze. Needless to say, she did not look happy. "Very good. Now, is there a reason you didn't do your homework?" Bobby chewed his lip and tried to look away, only for Mrs. Heathers to loudly clear her throat. Again, he forced himself to look at her. He could see his classmates staring at him out of the corner of his eyes; some were stifling laughter at his plight, some simply looked at him as though he were some sort of weirdo. All the while, his teacher said nothing, staring at him with a harsh gaze, waiting for an answer the boy simply didn't have.
"A-aahh…" Again, nothing more than a strangled breath escaped Bobby's throat. He hated this. Why did it matter? Why did she have to ask for a reason? He didn't do it. He said he didn't do it. Why couldn't that be the end of it? Why couldn't she just accept that he messed up and move on?
Why did everyone have to stare at him like this?
Finally, Mrs. Heathers slumped her shoulders and let out a sigh of resignation. With a disappointed shake of her head, she continued on to the next student. Bobby simply lowered his head to his desk and flipped up his hood to hide his face. Even if he couldn't see them, he knew they were still staring; he could hear them whispering to one another and snickering into their palms. Even as Mrs. Heathers barked at the class to mind their own business, the boy felt little reprieve. Bobby remembered a phrase he'd heard in the past… one he'd never say aloud, but had never been more relevant.
'Karma's a bitch.'

"Robert, I must say… I'm very disappointed in you," Mrs. Heathers said. "I've never known you to skip your homework. Not once. So… would you care to explain?" The woman's voice was stern and clear, and as she stared at Bobby from behind her desk, he'd never felt so small.
"I… I…" Bobby swallowed, forcing himself to raise his head. The other students were at recess and, unsurprisingly, Bobby was not allowed to join them. Quite frankly, he was relieved by that fact. "I… I wanted to play. So… I was g-going to do it in the morning, and I overslept…" Mrs. Heathers didn't seem particularly moved by his explanation.
"I already contacted your father," She said. "He insisted that you were working at your desk for several hours last night… and you mean to tell me that none of that time was spent doing your homework?" Bobby swallowed, hesitating a moment before shaking his head.
"I was… drawing," He lied.
"Drawing." The woman repeated. Bobby gave a small, timid nod, and Mrs. Heathers sighed. "Well. I suppose there's a first time for everything."
"I-I promise, it won't happen again…"
"I would hope not. In the meantime…" Mrs. Heathers flipped open a nearby binder and withdrew several blank worksheets, handing them to the boy. "You can make it up over the weekend, for partial credit. Also, you are to write a three-page essay explaining why you're sorry, and what you have learned from all this. Do you understand?"
"...Yes, Mrs. Heathers…" Bobby mumbled before heading back to his desk, only to stop in his tracks as his teacher cleared her throat loudly.
"I'm not finished, Robert." She said coolly. "Today, you will be writing lines. Come here." Bobby sighed and nodded, setting the worksheets on his desk before skulking over to the chalkboard. He waited patiently as the woman got to her feet and started writing a sentence in the top left corner: 'I will not skip my homework and I should have known better'. Bobby winced; that last part seemed rather unnecessary, true though it may have been. When she'd finished, she handed him the chalk. "You are to repeat this until I tell you to stop. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Mrs. Heathers…" Bobby muttered, hanging his head in indignation. He grabbed the nearby step-stool and set it at the base of the chalkboard, and even then he had to stretch his arm to reach the starting point.
"Robert." The teacher snapped, just as he'd finished the first sentence. "Smaller." Smaller? His letters were no bigger than hers were… but, fair or not, her tone left little room to argue. So, with a sigh, Bobby erased the word and started over. One line, then another, then another. As the clock ticked away Bobby wrote, trying not to focus on the growing numbness in his arm.
When the bell finally rang to signal the end of recess, Bobby let out a groan of relief. Finally… he knew it had only been fifteen minutes or so, but he felt like he'd been doing it for hours. At least now, the worst of it was over, and as his classmates filed in Bobby set down the chalk and made for his desk.
"Robert." Bobby flinched as, once again, his teacher's voice stopped him in his tracks. The boy swallowed and looked over his shoulder, finding her staring at him with crossed arms and a less-than-amused expression. "I didn't say you could stop."
What.
"You… huh…?" Bobby sputtered. "B-but recess is over-"
"I'm aware," The woman stated curtly. "...And I did not say you could stop." Bobby stared at her in disbelief; she was really going to make him keep writing in the middle of class? In front of everyone? "Robert," She barked. "Please continue."
"I-I… that's…" The boy stammered, only to give up; there was no point in protesting. He hung his head, giving a sheepish nod and waddling back over to the chalkboard. He kept writing, copying the same sentence over and over and doing everything he could to ignore the pain in his wrist and ogling of his classmates.

Bobby shuffled through the halls with his head hanging low and his spirits even lower. He'd had bad days before… heck, most days were bad days for the mopey little boy. But he'd never felt more beaten-down and humiliated than he did now. As if it wasn't bad enough that he was in trouble, Mrs. Heathers had turned him into the one thing he never wanted to be: a spectacle. Like one of the bad kids, when all he'd done is miss one night of homework.
He'd been forced to keep writing until the lunch bell rang, by which point his arm was completely sore. Even lunch had done little to improve his mood… despite his mother making his favorite pasta dish, he simply didn't have enough of an appetite to have more than a few bites. Charlie's words of support also didn't amount to much, though he certainly appreciated the boy's efforts. On the plus side, at least Hayden and Andy had stayed true to their word; he hadn't seen them at lunch, or all day for that matter. With the day he'd had, the last thing he needed was…
…To be grabbed mid-stride and dragged into the boy's bathroom.
"W-whoa?!" Bobby yelped as he was tossed to the linoleum floor, landing hard on his rear end. "O-ow! W-what the-" As the boy regained his bearings, he looked up at his assailant… or, rather, assailants. None other than Hayden and Andy loomed over him, glowering down at him with cold, angry eyes. They looked mad… not annoyed, not irritated, but downright furious. "A-ah… H-Hay-"
"You little runt," Hayden snarled, grabbing the front of his hoodie and roughly pulling him to his feet. "You screwed us, you know that?!"
"I-I… I don't…!" Bobby sputtered, his heart racing in his chest.
"The homework, twerp!" Andy snarled, and Bobby grimaced as tiny drops of spittle hit his face.
"B-but… I-I-I did it! I did everything you asked!"
"Yeah, no crap…" Hayden shoved several papers into the boy's hands… their homework, the ones he'd completed the previous night, were each marked with a big F in red marker. Bobby's eyes widened in disbelief.
"I-I don't… what…?!" He shook his head, looking up at the boys. "I-I don't understand, I d-did the assignments-"
"Yeah, and you used the same handwriting for both of them, you stupid little turd!" Bobby yelped as Hayden tore the sheets from his hands, crumpling them and tossing them to the ground. "And neither looks like it's ours!"
"I-I… h-how was I supposed to-" Bobby began, only to cry out in fear as Andy grabbed the straps of his backpack, lifting the small boy off the ground and slamming him against the nearby stall.
"It's called common sense. Like not walking into traffic, or putting your hand on a hot stove. Or pissing us off," Andy spat. "Now we've got Saturday detention because your stupid ass can't do anything right!"
"I-I'm sorry…!" The boy whimpered, squeezing his eyes shut and shrinking back as much as he could. "I didn't… I-I didn't mean to, I…"
"I-I-I," Hayden repeated in a squeaky, mocking voice. "You what, Dobby? Hmm? Go on, say something!" Bobby tried to speak but his voice cracked, once again fading to a faint wheeze. He'd been pushed around by the two bullies plenty… he'd been called names, shoved, taunted, and even stolen from. But he'd never been attacked like this, and for the first time he was truly scared of the duo. "That's what I thought," Hayden scoffed. "But it's all good. You kept your word, after all."
"Yeah," Andy sneered, lowering the boy back to the ground. "And we're keepin' ours."
"What're you… hey!" Bobby criedas his bullies began to wrest his backpack from his shoulders. He struggled and fought, but it was no use; the backpack was simply too loose on his tiny frame, and there wasn't much he could do to resist the two larger boys. "G-give that back…!" He pleaded as Hayden pulled the bag off of him, but the boy just laughed.
"You remember the deal. Do a good job, or you'll regret it." Hayden cackled. Bobby tried to grab for his backpack, but Andy held him back as Hayden walked over to the nearby trash can, unzipped the bag and, to Bobby's horror, dumped the contents in with the garbage before tossing the bag in with them.
"My stuff!" Andy let Bobby go and he ran to the trash can, peering down into it before wheeling around to glare at Hayden, his body quaking with rage. "Y-you… you can't do that…!"
"Obviously I can. And I did." The smug boy shot back. "What are you gonna do about it?" Bobby simply stared at him with his hands balled into fists, sputtering and stammering before letting out an indignant growl and digging through the trash for his belongings. "Hey, Andy… looks like Dobby wants his stuff back. Why don't we give him a hand?"
"Yeah… let's help the little guy out." Andy said with a cruel smirk. He grabbed the little boy by his hood and belt, hoisting him into the air with ease. "You want your stuff? Then go get it!" With that he dunked Bobby into the trash like a ragdoll, laughing as he panicked and thrashed before the can tipped over, sending the boy tumbling out along with the garbage.
"There we go… that'll make it much easier," Hayden taunted before breaking out in peals of laughter along with his loyal stooge. The two boys high-fived each other before heading off. "Seeya, Dobby. Thanks again," He said as he opened the door. "But maybe do a bit better next time, yeah?" With that, he and Andy made their exit, their muffled laughter soon disappearing down the hallway, while Bobby lay pitifully amongst the scattered garbage. Slowly he pushed himself up to a seated position and, for a few minutes, sat there in silence. Part of him wanted to scream. Part of him wanted to cry. Part of him wanted to disappear.
Part of him just didn't care.
Nonetheless, the boy stoically grabbed his empty backpack, digging through the spilled garbage for his belongings and carelessly shoving them inside before zipping up his bag, slinging it over his shoulder and storming out of the bathroom. Right now he didn't care about organization, nor did he care about civility, pushing his way through the crowded halls without so much as an apology. He just wanted to get home, no matter what punishment awaited him there.
Then, he felt someone grab his shoulder. Of course.
"Bobby…?!" Bobby breathed a sigh of relief. It was just Charlie; the chubby boy was looking at him curiously, noting the bits of paper and other refuse stuck in his hair. "What happened?"
"...Hey, Charlie." Bobby said quietly. "Um… I can't talk. I have to get home, so…"
"Whoa, whoa, hold up." Charlie pressed on. "You've got garbage all over you, man… what the heck happened?!" Bobby met the boy's gaze, noticing the apparent concern in his eyes. Part of him wanted to admit everything, to tell him what those two jerks had done… but it wasn't Charlie's problem. It was his.
"...Karma, Charlie." Bobby muttered, gently pulling from his grip and continuing on. "Just karma."
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What She'd Been Missing