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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
- 5
- 6
- 7
"Luna? Hey, earth to Luna?"
"Huh…?" Luna snapped out of her daze and looked towards her concerned wife. "O-oh… 'sup, babe?"
"Are you all right?" Sam asked. "You've been out of whack ever since the Vegas show… what's going on with you?"
"Oh… uh, nothin'." Luna muttered. "Just a bit tired, I guess." Sam was far from convinced… Luna's performance at the last show had been so poor that even the fans had noticed. She'd gotten a proper chewing out by Jerry over that, and promised she'd be more focused next time. And yet since then she'd been faring no better, to her wife's mounting concern. At first she thought it might be motion sickness, as the tour bus had been known to make her queasy in the past. But, no… she was sure that whatever this was ran deeper than that.
"Come on, Luna… talk to me," She said. "You're not acting yourself. Are you sick?" She put a hand on Luna's forehead, but she certainly didn't feel warm. "Maybe we should just cancel the next show-"
"No!" Luna gasped, making Sam jump. "I-I mean… no, it's fine. I just need some rest is all. Promise." She gave the blonde a small smile that did little to ease her worries; nonetheless, she sighed and sat down at the edge of the bed.
"If you say so. But-"

'TAKE MY ADVICE AND DON'T BE A MOOCH! GRAB LIFE BY THE LIPS AND GIVE IT A SMOOCH!'

Luna sighed and sat up, fishing her phone out of her pocket. She'd expected this would be coming eventually… not that it made her any less reluctant. "Sorry babe… gotta take this. Can you, um…"
"Yeah, I know. Private family stuff." Sam said with a chuckle. "Take your time." She gave her wife a kiss on the cheek before heading towards the front of the bus. Luna took a deep breath before answering the phone.
"…Hey, Linc-"
'You knew.'
Luna's brow furrowed. She'd expected him to be mad over ratting him out, but he sounded beyond mad. "Er… knew what?"
'About Loan.' Lincoln said. 'About my fucking DAUGHTER. You knew.' Luna's blood ran cold; how the hell had he found out? Loan hadn't known. Lori certainly wouldn't have told him…
…Right?
"Th-that's… I… Linc, look…"
'How long?'
"Lincoln-"
'HOW LONG?!' Her brother shouted. Luna frowned, hesitating a moment before answering.
"…Since the beginning." Luna admitted.
'What the hell is wrong with you, Luna?! How the HELL could you keep this from me?!' Lincoln spat. Luna sighed and massaged her temples. She supposed this had been a long time coming… somewhere in the back of her mind, she'd always doubted this could remain a secret forever.
"Linc… what would you have done?" She asked quietly. "If you were in my shoes, would you have dropped a bomb like this?"
'Of course I-'
"You were twelve, Lincoln." Luna said. "Twelve. D'you really think you would've been able to handle something like that? The truth would have ruined your life."
'Even so, to hide this from me for so long…'
"It wasn't an easy choice, bro… and trust me, I didn't do it for Lori's sake. I did it for yours, and for Loan's." The rocker muttered. "I didn't want either of you to get hurt. You've seen what she's like… you've seen how fragile she is."
'She's not FRAGILE, Luna.' Lincoln hissed. 'She's strong… stronger than you and Lori think she is. You KNOW what she's been through, don't you?!'
"Of course I do. But she's… ugh, I don't know." Luna grumbled. "…Does she know?"
'Yeah. She… took it about as well as you'd expect.' Lincoln admitted. 'But she's alright. She's here, and she and Bobby-'
"Wait… she's there?"
'She's staying here from now on, Luna.' Lincoln said. His sister couldn't believe what she was hearing; Lori had always kept the girl on a short leash, especially after that.
"Wow… uh, okay. Wow. Don't tell me Lori just… dropped her into your lap?"
'She agreed it was the best thing for her… it was either that or dragging her off to Japan.' Her brother said.
"Dammit, Lori…" Luna scoffed under her breath. Lori had mentioned the job offer to her about a month prior, saying that she was strongly considering it. Luna, of course, had told her flat out that it was a terrible idea… but clearly, her older sister had not listened. "Well, I'm glad she's with you, then." It wasn't a lie. Luna knew that Lori loved her daughter more than anything else, but nonetheless her actual parenting skills left a lot to be desired. Lincoln, on the other hand, was a great father to his son… if anyone was cut out to care for Loan, it was him. "How, uh… how is she doing…?"
'Fine.' Lincoln said curtly. 'She's adapting. We're all adapting. But that's not the issue here.'
"…I know." Luna sighed. "Listen, Lincoln, I-"
'SAVE IT, Luna.' The furious man spat. 'You've been lying to me for twenty-one years. There is NOTHING you can say to change that.' Luna hung her head and nodded. He was right: regardless of intentions, she'd betrayed both his and Loan's trust.
"I'm… I'm sorry." She said, barely above a whisper. For a few moments, there was no response; all she could hear was her brother breathing.
'…I'm not going to tell Loan.' Lincoln said. 'I should, but I won't. See you, Luna.'
"Lincoln, wait-" Luna began, but Lincoln had already ended the call. The rocker sighed and set down her phone before slumping back into her bed. Now she felt sick.
"Hey babe, are you…" Sam trailed off as she laid eyes on her wife, who somehow looked even more out of it than before. "Luna, what's wrong…? Did something happen?
"…Nothing." Luna muttered before turning onto her side. "I'm… I'm just gonna rest for a bit, okay?" Sam frowned, her gaze lingering on Luna for a moment before she gave a small nod and got to her feet.
"Let me know if you need anything, okay?"
"Yeah… I know." Luna said half-heartedly. "Thanks, Sam."

Lincoln took a deep breath and leaned back in his chair to collect his thoughts. Perhaps he'd been too hard on Luna… admittedly, she'd been placed into a situation in which there was no 'right' thing to do. Hell, he may have done the same thing had he been in her position. Still, he couldn't help but feel angry and betrayed. He knew he'd forgive her eventually, or at least be willing to move past it, but not yet. In any case, he needed to get back to work. Lincoln rubbed his tired eyes before sitting upright and picking up his stylus.
Normally, Lincoln liked working… he found it therapeutic and it worked wonders to clear his mind of stress. But when things came down to the wire like this, the work was the stress, and there was little he could do but buckle down and push through it.
At one point, this had all come easy to him. He'd never had any trouble meeting deadlines early on in his career, but as the years went on the work just kept getting harder and harder. Or, perhaps, he was just slowing down. That, of course, was one of the downsides to working out of one's home: the risk of getting too comfortable. He'd slacked off a bit too much early in the month, and now he was paying the price. Then again, he never could have foreseen the Loan situation.
Lincoln frowned as his thoughts returned to his daughter. Once again, he couldn't help but dwell on the absurdity of trying to focus on work at a time like this. He was grateful at least that Loan and Bobby could keep each other company, but that was only once the latter got home from school. Until then Loan was cooped up in that room all by herself. Granted, that was how she had spent the brunt of her life… a fact that made him feel a bit sick to his stomach. He knew that Lori had just been trying to protect the girl, but enabling that sort of lifestyle could not have been good for her mental health. In any case, he wanted to change that, and he knew Loan did too.
Somehow, he would get his daughter back on her feet.


"…And that's pretty much that." Ronnie instructed as she flipped the washing machine closed. "You just turn it on, let it do its thing, and then put 'em in the dryer. I'd show you, but… y'know. Nothing to dry just yet."
"It… looks easy enough." Loan said. She wasn't sure what she had expected, really… it wasn't like something as simple as doing laundry would require some sort of arcane ritual. "How, um… how long does it take…?"
"A bit," Ronnie said. "Usually I just put them in the dryer right before I leave for work and let Lincoln hang them, but… obviously, he's a bit too busy for that."
"He doesn't usually work so hard, right?" She asked. Ronnie sighed and shook her head.
"…Not usually. He fell behind a bit this month. It doesn't happen too often, and it hasn't been this bad in a while. But he'll pull through… he always does." She said. Loan gave a small nod of understanding, but she still felt she was at least partially to blame for all this. Heck, she was sure she was entirely to blame. But before she could dwell on it any further, the door opened and Bobby shuffled in wearing his backpack.
"…Hey."
"Hey, sweetie." Ronnie said, giving her son a hug. "You got everything?" The little boy nodded and shifted his backpack slightly. Loan couldn't help but notice that, despite clearly being intended for boys his age, it was just slightly too big on him. It was tempting to go for a hug too, but that'd be weird. And she'd already been weird enough for one day.
"…I guess I'll see you later." Bobby muttered.
"Y-yes. See you later!" Loan said with a smile, settling on giving her brother a small wave for now. Bobby's near-perpetual frown curled upwards into a smirk for a brief moment.
"Be safe," Ronnie added.
"I will." The boy said. "…Bye." With that, he headed out the door into the garage. Loan furrowed her brow in concern; he was shy, yes, and undoubtedly a very soft-spoken kid.
…But why did he always seem so sad?
"Um, Ronnie…" Loan began. "Is… is everything okay with Bobby…?" Her stepmother cocked an eyebrow.
"Yeah… why?"
"He just, I don't know… it feels like there's something wrong." Loan muttered. "He seems… sad." Ronnie let out a small chuckle.
"Ah… don't worry about that." She assured Loan. "He's been that way for as long as I can remember. He's just kind of a mopey kid."
"Mopey, huh…"
"Doesn't help that he's never made any friends," Ronnie sighed. "But to tell the truth, he's never really tried. He's always been too shy to really talk to anyone. That's why he doesn't take the bus anymore… it made him uncomfortable."
"He… doesn't take the bus?" Loan asked. "Then how-"
"Bicycle," Ronnie explained. "You wouldn't think so, but he's actually pretty damn good at riding it. Or… better than you'd expect, at least."
"H-he bikes to school alone?" Her stepdaughter gasped. "Isn't that d-dangerous?"
"Ah, he's fine, he's fine…" The older woman explained, waving her off. "He's a responsible kid. Always makes sure to stick to areas with lots of people around, and Hazeltucky's a pretty safe town. Besides… it's the only way he gets any exercise. I'm sure it's no surprise that he's not a very athletic kid." Loan nodded; she definitely couldn't deny that. His short stature was only accentuated by his scrawny build. In any case, Loan was still concerned for her little brother.
"…It must be lonely." She said quietly.
"Chill," Ronnie patted the girl on the back, jostling her a bit. "He's got you now, after all. I'm sure he'll perk up in no time." Loan gave a small smile.
"Did you ever think about having another…?" She asked. "You know… to keep him company?"
Whatever she'd expected her stepmother's response to be, it wasn't this: Ronnie's grin faded in an instant, and she visibly tensed up. Loan could even feel her fingers clench around the back of her sweater. "U-um… Ronnie…?" She stammered apprehensively. "Is… is something wrong?" This seemed to snap the woman out of her daze.
"We… no." Ronnie let out a sigh as she shook her head. "…We haven't." There was an underlying sorrow to her words that even Loan could pick up on.
"Ron-"
"Anyway, there's more I need to get done before work. You gonna tag along?" Ronnie asked with a playful, if noticeably forced smirk. Something Loan had said had definitely stuck a nerve with the woman. As much as she wanted to know why, or at least apologize for upsetting her, something told her that pressing the issue any further wouldn't be the best idea.
"Um… y-yes." Loan said, forcing a smile of her own. "That'd be great."

It was a pretty nice day, as far as Bobby was concerned. It was crisp, but not so chilly that he'd needed to wear long pants… his hoodie was enough. He slowed to a stop as he came to a crosswalk, looked both ways, and then continued on. Bobby knew the rules of the road… his parents had drilled them into his head long before they'd ever allowed him to ride anywhere on his own. Not that they'd needed to explain the dangers to him… he was a naturally pessimistic boy, after all.
Before long, Bobby had arrived at the school. Just as he was riding up, however, his front wheel locked up and the bicycle flipped forward. Bobby was launched off the bike with a yelp, and he grunted in pain as he crashed against the hard pavement. He lay there for a moment in a daze; that had been a rough fall.
"Whoa, are you okay?!" A voice said. Bobby felt a pair of hands helping him up.
"Y-yeah…" Bobby grumbled. "Thank-" His voice caught in his throat as he looked up to see none other than Hayden, wearing a smug grin on his face as per usual.
"You really gotta be more careful, Dobby." Hayden sneered, jerking the smaller boy to his feet before roughly dusting him off. "You could get hurt. Maybe you should get some training wheels?"
"…I know how to ride a bike." Bobby huffed. He stomped over to his bicycle and picked it up, only to notice that there was a thick branch jammed between the spokes; no doubt it had deliberately thrown into his wheel as he was riding. He turned to glare at Hayden. "Y-you did this, didn't you…?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Hayden said with an exaggerated shrug. "It ain't my fault you're clumsy." The boy chuckled and headed towards the school. Bobby glanced around, noticing the other students scattered about; many were trying not to look at him, while others were snickering into their palms. They'd all seen it, of course… and Bobby had no doubt that even if he went to a teacher about the incident, none of them would vouch for him. He sighed and pulled the branch out of the spokes before wheeling his bike the rest of the way to the bike rack. He locked it, gave a few tugs to be sure it was secure, then headed inside.
As usual, the hallway lockers were crowded… many of the students had already gathered their things, but still found it necessary to clog up the area chatting with one another. Bobby had no idea why they did this… the hallway just past the lockers was nearly empty, and had more space to boot. "'Scuse me," He mumbled as he tried to reach his locker. "Trying to get through…" As usual, nobody heard him over the chatter, and the boy was far too timid to speak up. Instead, he simply grumbled under his breath and pushed his way through.
Just as Bobby reached his locker, the morning bell signified that it was time to go to class, and immediately Bobby found himself being bumped and jostled by the throngs of students rushing to their classrooms. He let out another sigh of resignation as he was forced against his locker. Once the crowd petered out, he waited a few moments to insure that he was in the clear before finally opening his locker. He'd set the combination to 1903: the birth year of George Orwell. He'd considered 1984, but he figured that would have been too obvious.
…Well, at least he'd figured that, but by this point he was more than aware that any literary reference would be lost on his peers.
Bobby gathered his books and made his way towards his class. He had no need to rush… he had more than ten minutes, after all, and he may as well savor the peace and quiet while he could. Besides, he was still aching a bit from the fall.
"Good morning, Robert." Mrs. Heathers said, standing just outside the classroom door to greet her students.
"…Good morning." Bobby said quietly. Just as he was about to go inside, however, his teacher held out her arm to stop him.
"Wait… Robert, what happened to your knee?"
"My knee…?" Bobby looked down to find that he had skinned his knee… he hadn't even noticed over the dull pain in his shoulder. It wasn't really bleeding, but it was definitely raw and wet-looking. "O-oh… I fell off my bike." He muttered. "It's fine, I-"
"Nonsense, Robert." Mrs. Heathers said with a shake of her head. "The last thing you want is for it to get infected. Go to the nurse and get it taken care of… I won't mark you late as long as you come back to class immediately afterwards. Do you understand?"
"…Yes, Mrs. Heathers." Bobby said before skulking off down the hall. He winced with each step; now that he was aware of the scrape, a stinging pain surged through his knee each time he bent it. Bandage or not, he knew this would be an annoyance throughout the rest of the day, and perhaps longer than that.
All in all, an average start to the day for Bobby.


"So… you get things figured out?" Charlie mumbled through a mouthful of terrible lunchroom pizza. "The 'home stuff', I mean."
"…Yeah." Bobby replied simply, picking away at his own meal of mac-n-cheese. Charlie waited a few moments for a follow-up to that; realizing he wasn't going to get one, he cleared his throat.
"Soooo… which was it? Good or bad?"
"Oh… um, good. I think…" The quiet boy muttered. "It was just some stuff with Loan, but-"
"Who's Loan?"
"My sister." Bobby said. Charlie cocked an eyebrow. As far as he'd known, Bobby was an only child.
"Since when have you had a sister?" He asked.
"…Since Friday." Bobby explained.
"Wow… uh, congrats, then." The chubby boy said with a grin. "I've got a baby sister too, so I know-"
"No, she's older."
"…Huh?" Charlie blinked; that didn't quite make sense. "Er, how does that work, exactly…?" Bobby glanced up from his food.
"…What do you mean?" He asked.
"I mean… you said she was born on Friday." Charlie said. "So how is she older than you?"
"She wasn't born Friday… that's just when she showed up," Bobby explained. "She's a grownup."
"Er… oooookay…" His lunch buddy averted his eyes, drumming his fingers against the table in thought. "So… you have a grownup sister."
"Yes."
"…That you didn't know about."
"Uh-huh."
"And she just… showed up."
"…Yeah." Bobby said with a small nod.
"Isn't that a bit, I dunno… weird?" Charlie asked.
"…I guess." Bobby muttered. "She's not mom's daughter, though… she's dad's. I don't think he knew about her either."
"That… seems like something he'd know about." Said Charlie; Bobby simply shrugged.
"He says he didn't. He thought she was just my cousin, but… now she's my sister, and she lives with us. I dunno." The boy sighed. "…She's nice, though. I like her." Charlie just stared at him in baffled silence. Finally, he let out a sigh of his own and rested his pudgy face on his palm, taking another bite of his pizza.
"…You live a strange life, Bobby."

By the time Ronnie had left for work, Loan felt far more exhausted than she knew she should. Hell, she'd barely even done any chores herself… she'd simply observed as Ronnie handled most of the work. Loan wasn't sure if this was because she was out of shape or simply lazy. Probably the latter.
You know it is.
Loan squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath. There it was again, just when she thought it was going to be a quiet day. Even if she only skipped her meds for one day, it usually took a week or so for the intrusive thoughts to die down. This was something she'd had to learn for herself; based on the research she'd done on her own, this was a bit unusual… yet another reason she refused to discuss the issue with anyone. She released her breath and took a glass from the kitchen cabinet. Soda would only get her so far… even she needed proper hydration from time to time.
Loan filled the glass with water from the faucet and tapped it against the countertop three times before drinking. This was another thing she found it necessary to do, even though she knew fully well it wasn't. It only applied to drinks in a glass, too… bottles and cans were fine. She used to try and rationalize why she did these things, but Dr. Patel had assured her that there was nothing wrong with her unusual behaviors as long as they weren't hurting her or anyone else.
She placed the empty glass upside-down in the sink and left the kitchen, passing through the dining room and into the living room. She paused at the foot of the stairs and glanced around the comfortable home… her home, now. It was so far removed from what she was used to. Quiet, but for entirely different reasons. Spacious, not stifling. Comforting, not constraining.
New.
Different.
…Unfamiliar.
You don't belong.
"…I do belong." Loan muttered under her breath.
If you were so sure of that, you wouldn't have doubts.
"Stop it." Loan hissed.
You're insane. They'll see that soon enough, if they haven't already.
"I'm not insane!"
Then why do you talk back?
Loan's brow scrunched up in frustration, her lips pressing together in a thin line as her hand gripped the banister tightly. She huffed and stormed upstairs, not even bothering to count the steps this time. For once, it had a point: trying to speak to it was a pointless endeavor. There was nothing to speak to. The best thing she could do was ignore it. It was all she could do, really. She stopped at the top of the stairs and took a few deep breaths to settle her nerves. She remembered what her father had said on her first night there… that it was normal to feel unsure about all of this. But she was here now, and she was happy, and-
"FUCK!"
Loan cried out in shock and jumped so hard that she nearly lost her balance and fell down the stairs. She took a moment to calm herself before looking towards the source of the noise: it had come from her father's studio.
"Dad…" Loan rushed down the hall. His door was slightly ajar, so she didn't bother to knock; inside, she found her father hunched over his desk with his head buried in his hands. "D-dad… are you okay?" She asked, but received no response. She swallowed and inched a bit closer. "Da-"
"I fucked up." Lincoln said in barely above a whisper. Loan frowned and moved a bit closer.
"What do you mean…?"
"I fucked up." Her father repeated. "Again. I didn't pay attention to what I was doing, and… and I fucked up." Loan glanced at his monitor. It didn't LOOK like he'd made any mistakes… in fact it looked amazing so far, far more detailed than her own work.
"I… I don't see-" Then, she noticed it: there was only one layer. He had put the line art directly over the pencils. "O-oh…" Loan stammered, before turning back to her father. "Well… maybe you can fix it?" Lincoln sighed and sat back in his chair.
"I can't." Lincoln muttered. "I could copy the layer and isolate the line art, but it wouldn't look right… I could never send that in. Hours of work, wasted. I'm not getting those back." Loan looked at the monitor again. She couldn't tell exactly how long it had taken him, but it looked like he'd almost been finished. Between that and the level of detail, it was clear that he had been working on it for quite some time.
"I… um…" Loan stammered. She wasn't sure what she should say to the man… he sounded utterly defeated. "I'm… sorry… if it weren't for me-"
"Loan, no. Stop that… you had nothing to do with it." Her father assured her. "I'm only in this mess because I'd made this same mistake two other times this month. Hell, even before that I hadn't been taking it as seriously as I should have. That's how it is, though… the longer you work at something, the more complacent you get. You'll understand someday." Despite everything, Loan couldn't help but feel a bit uplifted by that… the fact that her father thought she could work at anything was pretty encouraging.
"W-well, that's…" Loan began with a nervous laugh, but shook her thoughts aside; this wasn't about her, after all. "Um… what are you going to do…?"
"…I don't know." Lincoln admitted. "I don't know if I can do anything at this point. I just… don't know." There was an uneasy silence between the two, and for a while neither spoke. Despite her father's reassuring words Loan still felt terrible about the situation; whether or not she was the cause of it, it hurt seeing him struggle like this. She racked her brain for some sort of way she could help him, or at least encourage him, or…
…Wait.
"Uh… dad…" Loan mumbled, fidgeting awkwardly. "What if… what if I helped?" Lincoln turned to face her with a curious expression on his face.
"Helped…?" Lincoln asked, and Loan gave a small nod. "Helped how?"
"Well… I… draw myself, you know?" Loan said. "M-mostly sketching, but… I do have a tablet, so… maybe I could… I don't know. I'm sorry." She sighed, hanging her head. "It's a dumb idea but-"
"It's not dumb, Loan." Lincoln said with a small smile. "And I appreciate the offer, but…" He trailed off as he glanced over at his monitor. The truth of the matter was, he had a long way to go… too long. Chances were that even if he buckled down and busted his ass without sleep for several days, he'd still never be able to finish. The man frowned and tapped his finger against the armrest in thought.
"Dad?"
"…I'll tell you what." Lincoln muttered. "What's your email address?" Loan tilted her head slightly.
"MsJitterBug ..."
"That m-s or m-i-s-s?"
"Um, m-s. Why?" She asked. Her father swiveled back around to his computer and opened up Outlook.
"I'm sending you a test page," He explained as he drafted a new email. He attached an image file then sent it. "I'm gonna take a break for an hour or so… do as much as you can, okay? And don't worry if you can't. This is… probably much different than what you're used to." Loan's face lit up and she nodded.
"I-I won't let you down…!" She said in as determined of a tone as she could muster… only to quickly return to her usual meek demeanor. "Or… I'll try not to, at least…" Lincoln chuckled and got to his feet.
"Don't sweat it. Like I said, this is new to you." He said, giving his daughter a gentle pat on the shoulder. "Just trying means a lot to me." Loan smiled, averting her eyes as a light blush crossed her face.
"…I'll do my best." She assured him.
"I know you will." Lincoln said with a grin. He gave her shoulder a light squeeze before leaving the room; once he was gone, Loan let out the breath she'd been holding since he'd said 'yes'. To her, it wasn't just a matter of trying… she had to do this right. She owed it to him.
"I… I can do this." She told herself before rushing off to her room.
Nah. You're gonna fuck this up, just like everything else you do.
Loan ignored it and searched through one of her boxes for her tablet. It doesn't matter, she told herself. This is just a test page. She fished out the tablet, thankfully with the stylus still clipped into its holder, and plugged it into her computer before sitting down.
The email her father had sent was surprisingly in-depth, explaining which brushes to use for what, which line size and width to use for different purposes, pressure settings… it was somehow even more complicated than she had expected. For a brief moment, Loan considered giving up right then and there… but she shook the thought aside. Don't overthink things. You know what you're doing.
But do you REALLY?
"…Yes." Loan said, and got to work.


Lincoln pressed his palms against the small of his back and leaned back, letting out a small grunt of relief as he felt his spine pop. He cracked his neck, then his wrists, then his knuckles before finally flopping back onto the couch. He let out a long, relaxed sigh as he sank into the soft cushions; sitting in an office chair for hours upon hours had left him terribly sore. He wanted to take a couple of painkillers to soothe his aching muscles, but he was already too comfortable to bother getting up.
The exhausted man rubbed at his eyes. The past week had been stressful, to say the least. Between Loan, his work, and his lack of sleep, it felt like his body and mind were slipping into auto-pilot. It was almost as if he were in a drunken daze; he even found himself nodding off at times, only to snap awake thinking that the events of the past few days were an odd dream. Of course, the less he slept, the more mistakes he made… and the more mistakes he made, the less time he had to sleep. It was the cycle of the struggling artist, and while at one point he had been able to handle such a rigorous schedule, by this point he felt like he was at the verge of collapsing at any moment.
"Ronnie's right… I'm NOT as young as I used to be." Lincoln groaned. As if his own failures weren't enough, now he'd been reduced to accepting his daughter's help. While he appreciated it greatly, it only served to make him feel even more pathetic than he already had. It was his job, his responsibility, and here he was barely even able to keep his head up. A small part of him even hoped Loan wouldn't be able to manage it, just to spare the girl from taking on his burden. But, if she did, he'd have no choice but to accept her help. There was no other way he'd be able to meet his deadline.
Lincoln gingerly shifted around and lied down on the couch, staring up at the ceiling in contemplation. While he doubted one missed deadline would be enough to sink his career, slipping up on a project this big would undoubtedly deal a massive blow to his reputation. In all honesty, it wasn't so much about the money, but rather his career itself. As difficult as it could be, he loved his job, he loved the industry, and he loved the fact that he could make an impact on it, small though it may be. As a child, he'd had a number of dreams for the future… some stupid, and some unrealistic. This was the only one that stuck, and he didn't want to lose that.
Lincoln felt his eyelids growing heavy. He let out a long yawn and shut his eyes; as much as he wanted to stay awake, he knew that he needed to use this break to take a nap if he wanted to keep functioning. Soon enough, he had drifted off into a deep slumber.
"-ad."
Lincoln's face scrunched up in annoyance. He had just fallen asleep.
"…Dad, wake up."
"Nnnnngh…" He grumbled, rolling onto his side. A tiny hand grasped his shoulder and gave it a little shake.
"Dad, I'm home."
"Wha… ugh…" Lincoln let out a groan and opened his eyes, blinking a few times before pushing himself upright. He turned to see his son standing beside the couch, staring at him with a raised eyebrow. Lincoln sighed, sat up, and rubbed his tired eyes. "Bobby… why are you back so early…?"
"…I'm not." Bobby said. Lincoln stared at him in confusion for a moment before glancing over at the clock; it was nearly 3:30 PM. He'd overslept.
"Oh fu-" Lincoln hissed, before remembering that his seven-year-old son was standing right beside him. "…Udge." Bobby tilted his head.
"…Are you okay?" He asked. His father sighed and scratched the back of his head.
"It's… don't worry about it. How was school?" Lincoln muttered.
"Fine." Bobby said. "Are you sure you're okay…?"
"Yeah, I'm good." Lincoln forced a smile and patted his son on the head. "Just needed a little rest. You go on upstairs, okay?" Bobby nodded and shuffled off, leaving his father to wake up in full. Lincoln once again massaged his eyes, cursing under his breath. As if it wasn't bad enough that he'd overslept, he barely felt better rested at all. He shook himself awake before standing up with a grunt.
After finally taking a few painkillers, Lincoln trudged his way upstairs and gently knocked on Loan's door.
"C-come in!" She called. Lincoln entered to find his daughter sitting at her computer, hunched over in what looked like a very uncomfortable position, but she didn't seem to mind. Her face lit up as she saw him enter. "Hey, dad… um, has it been an hour already…?" Lincoln raised an eyebrow.
"It's been three hours, Loan. I overslept." Lincoln muttered apologetically.
"Oh!" Loan gasped. "I guess I was so focused I didn't notice…" She gave a flustered laugh and scratched the side of her head. Lincoln just chuckled.
"Well, let's see how you did…" Lincoln peeked over her shoulder to find that she had already completed the basic outline; it looked pretty good, too. Good enough to meet the editor's standards, at least. However, she was still working on the smaller details with far less success… clearly, that was an area that still needed improvement.
"S-sorry…" Loan mumbled, looking a bit downcast. "I tried, but-"
"You did great," Lincoln cut in with a smile. "Really." Loan seemed a bit flustered by the compliment, but smiled nonetheless.
"So… can I help…?" She asked hopefully. Her father frowned slightly; he really wasn't too keen on his daughter helping him with his work, but he had little choice… there was no way he'd meet his deadline on his own. Lincoln sighed in resignation.
"Are you sure you want to do this, Loan?" He asked. "It's okay if you don't-"
"I do." Loan assured him. "It's… the least I can do, you know?" Lincoln thought it over for a few moments before finally nodding.
"Alright," He said. "You handle the basic outlines, I'll handle detailing. Sound good?"
"Y-yes!" Loan said with some small measure of determination. Lincoln chuckled and gave his daughter a hug.
"Thank you, Loan." He muttered. "I promise, I'll make this up to you."
"You really don't need to…"
"I know," Lincoln assured her. "But I will anyway. You send me that, alright? I'll send you the rest of the pages."
"R-right… got it. I'll do my best." The two exchanged a smile before Lincoln left to return to his studio. Loan took a moment to stretch her back before turning back to her computer. What, she thought, don't have anything to say this time? She waited a moment, smirking as she received no response. Yeah, that's what I thought.


Bobby sat on the toilet lid and winced as he gingerly peeled off his bandage. Like before, there was little blood… instead there was a gross yellowish stain soaked into the pad.
"Ugh…" Bobby grumbled, dropping the used bandage into the trash bin. He grabbed the Neosporin off the countertop, put a dab on his scrape, and covered it with a new bandage before hopping off his seat.
He was thankful that the rest of the day had passed without incident; no bullies, no issues with Mrs. Heathers, no unwelcome 'modifications' to his bike. All in all, a decent enough school day by his standards.
The best he could hope for, anyway.
Bobby rolled up his sleeve to take a look at the bruise on his shoulder. It wasn't too bad… and luckily, it was in a spot that was easy to hide. He sighed and left the bathroom, shutting off the light before closing the door.
As he headed for his room, he noticed that his sister's door was now open. He hadn't wanted to bother her before, but as far as he was concerned an open door was an invitation to enter. Bobby peeked inside, seeing Loan hard at work on her computer.
"…Hey."
"Huh…?" Loan blinked and looked up from her work; she glanced towards the door and beamed as she spotted her little brother standing in the doorway. "Oh! Hello, Bobby… when did you get back?"
"A little bit ago," Bobby said as he shuffled into the room. "What're you doing?"
"I'm helping dad with his work… or, um, trying to at least…" Loan muttered.
"Helping dad…?" Bobby looked at the monitor, his eyebrows rising slightly in surprise. She had just started on a new page. He remembered she had mentioned she liked to draw, but this was unexpected to say the least. Clearly, his father was in far tighter of a spot than he had imagined. "…You must be good." He mumbled.
"Th-thanks… I'm not that great, though…" Loan stammered. "I'm still a bit worried that it won't be good enough." Bobby looked up at the screen again. Her line art looked fine to him… not that he would know one way or the other. In any case, she seemed too busy to play any games… and he certainly didn't want to jump into his homework right after getting home from school.
"…Can I watch?" He asked. "I'll be quiet…"
"Oh, um… sure!" Loan said. "I-it'll probably be boring, though…"
"That's fine." Bobby climbed up onto her bed and sat at the end. "…I kind of like boring." Loan grinned and turned back to her monitor. For a few minutes no words were exchanged between the two as Bobby watched his sister work.
"You don't need to be that quiet, Bobby." Loan said, breaking the silence. "How was your day?"
"Fine," Bobby muttered. "You know… the usual."
"Boring?" His sister asked. Bobby smirked and nodded.
"…Boring. But not the good kind."
"I never liked school much, either." Loan admitted. "I, um… I don't think anyone does, really. It's just one of those things you have to deal with, you know? Otherwise you'll just… end up like me." She let out a small chuckle, but Bobby frowned nonetheless.
"What's so bad about that…?" He asked.
"Um…" Loan already regretted her choice of words. "D-don't worry about-"
"You didn't go to school…?" He pressed on. Loan let out a sigh.
"…I did," She explained. "For a while, anyway. I dropped out in high school because of… stuff. Got my GED though. Kind of like… finishing high school without finishing it. I dunno if that makes sense…"
"I… think I get it." Bobby said. He fell silent again, continuing to watch her work. It was a bit interesting; unlike their father's Cintiq, Loan was using a simple tablet. He wasn't quite sure how she could deal with the disconnect between the screen and her actual motions, but she seemed to be managing it just fine.
"So who's your favorite superhero?"
"Huh? Oh, um… I don't know." The young boy mumbled. "I don't really have one. I don't read comics." Loan stopped mid-line, turning to stare ah her little brother as though he were from another planet.
"You… don't like comics?" She asked. Bobby shook his head.
"No."
"But… but you're a kid." Loan sputtered. "Our dad draws comics!" The little boy merely shrugged.
"I know… but I don't like them." He said. "I've tried to, but I don't. There's… too much to keep track of. Too many different titles to follow. And it's all just the same thing over and over and over… I don't know. It's not for me."
"You really don't like any comics…?"
"None of the ones I've read…" Bobby grumbled.
"…Have you ever read anything by Alan Moore?" Loan asked. "Or Neil Gaiman?"
"I… no, I haven't." The boy admitted. "I'd be willing to try, though." Loan smirked.
"I could lend some to you sometime… I think you'd like them." Loan said, before letting out a small sigh. "Actually, never mind… you're too young for most of them…"
"…I read grown-up stuff, you know…" Bobby reminded her. His sister frowned and thought for a moment.
"Well… we'll see." Loan said; she'd simply ask her father about what was appropriate. Not that she didn't trust her little brother, but she still figured she should run things by her dad. The last thing she wanted was to make him or Ronnie angry.
…Especially Ronnie.
"Must be cool, though…" Bobby said. "…Working on something you like, I mean."
"Yeah, I guess it's-" Suddenly Loan froze, her eyes going wide as the realization hit her. Her stylus fell from her hand and clattered onto the desk. "O-oh my Gosh…" She gasped into her palm.
"…Loan?" Bobby raised an eyebrow as he took note of his sister's sudden shift in demeanor. "Are you alright…?" Loan gave a small nod.
"I-I'm… I'm working on Ace Savvy…" She muttered. "I'm working on Ace Savvy. Like, the actual Ace Savvy…! And it's going to be published!" Were it not for the other events over the past week, this may have been the coolest thing to ever happen to her. For his part, Bobby could only watch in bafflement as the normally quiet young woman let out an excited squeal and spun around in her chair.
"Um… c-congratulations…?" Bobby stammered. Loan sprang to her feet so quickly it made him jump.
"Y-you don't understand…" Loan snatched up her sketchbook and flipped through it before showing Bobby a page; there were a number of sketches of Ace Savvy in a variety of poses. They were certainly good, but they looked nothing like the Ace Savvy he knew… he was drawn slimmer, younger, and almost… anime-like? "Ace Savvy's my favorite superhero!" Loan explained. "H-he's my favorite, and now I-I-I'm working a real Ace Savvy comic, and it's going to be published, and… and…" She forced herself to stop babbling; she was getting too worked up again. Loan took a few deep breaths before slumping back into her chair.
"Are… are you okay?" Bobby asked, clearly concerned for his sister. She nodded, taking a few more breaths before speaking.
"S-sorry… I, uh… sometimes I get a little worked up about the stuff I like…" Loan mumbled sheepishly.
"…It's okay," The boy said with a small smirk. "I get excited about my stuff too. Not as much, but… you know." 'Not as much' was an understatement; he'd never seen anyone quite so giddy about anything.
"I-I need to do my best," Loan gasped. "I can't mess up, I need to try harder than I've ever tried at anything before." She tossed he sketchbook back onto the bed and swiveled back around to resume her work. Bobby finally let out the breath he'd been holding in since Loan's little outburst began. Though he could kind of understand… if he were to have a short story published in Uncanny Magazine, he'd likely react much the same as his big sister had. But for now, she seemed to have calmed down… if anything, she seemed even more determined than before.
"…Guardians of the Galaxy."
"Huh?" Loan glanced over her shoulder.
"Guardians of the Galaxy," Bobby said again. "They're my favorite." Loan blinked, then a grin crossed her face.
"You have good taste, Bobby." She said with a giggle before getting back to work. Bobby glanced down at the sketchbook that was lying beside him; it was interesting how much her own style differed from what she was doing now. Granted, she was essentially tracing over already-drawn art, but her own work was pretty good too. He assumed she wouldn't mind if he took a look, so he picked up her sketchbook and began flipping through it.
As expected, it was all anime-style art. Bobby liked anime himself, but not nearly to the extent that Loan did… clearly, this girl was a full-blown otaku. He spotted several familiar faces from a variety of media amongst the sketches, as well as many he did not recognize.
…And then he came to the most recent drawing.
It was two handsome young men… or even pretty, Bobby might say. They were hugging each other.
…Or embracing, perhaps.
In any case, they were holding one another very closely, their gazes trained firmly on one another; there seemed to be some kind of thread between their mouths. A string, perhaps? Bobby had no idea. What he did know was that the two men were naked. Or shirtless, as least… the image was cut off at the waists so he couldn't tell.
Something told him it was the former, though.
"By the way, Bobby, do youaaAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!" Loan yelped and snatched the book out of his hands, hugging it tightly against her chest. The two stared at each other in silence, their faces turning a deep scarlet; Bobby had turned so red that his skin nearly blended in with his hoodie. "Th-th-that was a commission…!" Loan sputtered. "I-I don't usually draw that kind of stuff, I, um… I…"
"O-okay." Bobby squeaked, sliding off of the bed and onto the floor. "I, um, have do go do my homework, so… s-see you later!" Bobby quickly scurried out of the room, and a moment later Loan heard his door slam shut. Loan groaned and buried her face in her hands. Once again, she'd embarrassed herself.
Hey, at least you didn't show him your tits this time.
Loan sighed and looked at her sketchbook. It hadn't been a lie… it was a commission. Even though it was more suggestive than explicit, it was still a big step outside of her comfort zone. But she was paid to draw it, so she drew it. Not that she was sure why she offered commissions in the first place… it wasn't like she needed the money. Maybe it was just so she had some sort of obligation.
Or, you just want to feel USEFUL to someone for once in your life… not that you ever WILL be.
Loan frowned and shut the sketchbook. She could be useful… she was being useful right now. Loan tossed the sketchbook aside and took a moment to flex her shoulders before swiveling back around and getting to work.
And work she did, well into the next morning… and well into the next night, stopping only to take a short nap and play with Bobby a bit, per her father's assurance that he had enough to work with for a few hours. Even after only a couple of days, she was already feeling the stress of the work. Her wrist hurt, her back hurt, her head hurt from staring at a computer screen for so long… she could only imagine how her father felt. But they both pressed on through the exhaustion and, very late Saturday night, Loan's role had been finished. She'd finished the base lines on every remaining page, and all that was left was for her father to complete the details.
Loan flopped back onto her bed and let out a long sigh. She was no stranger to staying awake for several days at a time, but usually she just kind of lazed about. Having to actually focus on something for that duration was new to her, to say the least… not to mention exhausting.
She'd offered to help her father with the detail work as well, but he'd assured her he could take it from there. 'You've helped more than enough', he'd told her. Between that and his praises of her work, she couldn't help but feel a small surge of pride in her heart. Self-doubts aside, she'd been able to help.
It's going to be terrible. They'll never hire your dad again, and it will be all your fault.
Loan knew that wasn't true. Even she knew she'd done a good job… her father wouldn't have let her help if she didn't. This job was important to him, after all.
She wasn't sure how long she lay there like that; she was almost too tired to even sleep, and instead seemed to drift in and out of a groggy haze. She remained like this until a gentle knock on her door snapped her back to reality.
"…C'min." Loan slurred. The door opened and none other than her father shambled in, looking like some zombie out of a horror movie… not that she could blame him.
"Hey," He said with a tired grin.
"…Hey..." Loan replied with a smile of her own. She propped herself up as much as she could manage… which right now wasn't very much at all. "Did you finish…?"
"I finished…" Lincoln mumbled as he staggered over and sat down at the end of her bed, flopping back onto the bed much as she had. He let out a long sigh of relief as he sank into the soft mattress. "F'rgot how good a bed feels…" Loan chuckled.
"So… back to normal?" She asked. Her father nodded.
"Back to normal… 'til my next job. Usually doesn't take too long for that." Lincoln stifled a yawn. "…But it won't be like this. Not gonna dick around this time… gotta keep on schedule…" Lincoln tried to pump his fist in determination, but his arm just weakly flopped against his chest. "But for now, 'm jus' glad it's done. Couldn't've done it without ya, Loan…" He tilted his head slightly to smile at his daughter, which she returned in kind.
"So what're you gonna do t'morrow…?"
"Mmmm…" Lincoln shut his eyes in thought. "Well… been meanin' to take another swing at Beastborne… I could use a good coach, though."
"I'd like that." Loan said.
"Good, good…" Lincoln mumbled, trailing off at the end; Loan waited for him to continue, but he didn't.
"…Dad?" No response… he was out cold, his chest slowly rising and falling with rhythmic breaths. Loan giggled and shut her eyes as well. "G'night."
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