17. The junkyard

These past three weeks I've been extremely busy and a little unmotivated. Just a little, though. I want to thank you all for your constant support, for your over 60 reviews in last chapter (I still can't believe that) and for helping this story reach 700 reviews. I hope you find this chapter enjoyable.

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Chapter 17: The junkyard

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Deep withing the attic's darkness, where the light couldn't reach her and the sound of the lower floors was somewhat muffled, Lucy felt like she was in her natural habitat. The only thing that could be heard was the sound of the wings and squeals of her small bat colony, which she was feeding. She didn't really have to, for her bats were experts moth hunters, but they were the closest thing she had to a vampire, and was desperately needing to talk with someone like Edwin, her platonic love.

Edwin had lived for over four hundred years, with different identities across the generations, looking for a woman whom he could give the gift of immortality to and marry. He was a creature of darkness, with evil instincts, but his latent humanity —or at least what was left of it— had made him look for a place between the higher classes of humans. He spent his days reading and learning, and his nights hunting, relating with the right people to increase his influences. He was a beast, yes, but he was also the most cultured and intelligent creature that had ever lived in Transylvania. He would probably have the right answers to all of Lucy's questions.

In any other situation, she would've immediately looked for Lincoln's help. Her older brother was always there for her. Lincoln, even though he liked going ghost hunting, was actually an easily scared boy. Lucy knew that he didn't like being among bats, talking about darkness or the dark rituals that linked her with the Beyond. And yet, when no one else wanted to play with her, when she had no one to talk to, he was the first one volunteering to be with her so she wouldn't be alone. She wanted to go with him, to talk it out with him, but that was not an option. Her issue was directly and intimately related to him.

Whenever Lincoln wasn't an option, either because he wasn't available or because she was mad at him —which happened pretty often, given Lincoln's tendency of messing up and earning everyone's hate—, Lucy would always turn to her closest sister, Lynn. They weren't the closest in age, but they were roommates, and after so many years, they had developed a strong relationship. Lynn was the least feminine girl in the house. She was rough, rude, had a bad temperament and no respect whatsoever for general house rules. She did everything her way, and if that bothered someone, then it was their problem. But at the same time, she was determined to take care of all her siblings, specially the younger ones. With Lucy, for example, she didn't pass on the opportunity to make fun of the dark aura, but may God had mercy on the soul of the fool who would dare to mess her little sister in front of her.

Lynn was not the sharpest tool in the shed, nor she wasn't particularly good at giving her the best advice or have the deepest talks. But whenever Lucy really needed her to hear her out, even though she might not be able to give her a great answer, she would be there for her, and she'd at least try. It was nice to know that Lucy could count on her.

Thus, it was more painful to not have her neither.

For the last week, Lynn had been acting really strange. She was behaving with too much violence, even by her standards. On Tuesday's noon, when Lucy came back home with the rest of her sisters and found out that Lincoln had been discharged from the hospital, Lynn had been about to punch her, just because she had accidentally scared Lincoln when she greeted him from behind like she always did. She understood that Lynn might have been nervous and worried about Lincoln, like they all were, but still…

Then, the incident at her school. Their parents had told them all that they were not allowed to talk about the incident with Lynn, to ask her what had happened or even mentioning the subject. They didn't want to give them any details, they just told them that it had been something very personal and that they shouldn't bring up the subject. Lucy was deeply worried about her older sister. Even though her temperament was… special, so to speak, she had always had enough self control to keep herself from hurting anyone, ever. The rumors that had spread all the way to elementary school were about a no holds barred Lynn.

That same afternoon, Lynn had blamed her on having lost her autographed baseball. Lucy had never touched it, and she was pretty sure that Lynn knew that. Even so, she had screamed at her that until she got it back, she wasn't going to be staying on the same room with her. That she would be bunking with Lincoln.

That was the same night where Luna had her… incident with Lori. Lincoln slept with her the next night too.

Just a few hours ago, Lynn had woken up before anyone else to cook Lincoln a special breakfast. Lynn. Cooking.

Lucy knew that there was something going on. She knew it. She had known it since she had heard her father's voice on the vents. She knew that there was something wrong, and that it was related to Lincoln. She needed someone to talk to, and it didn't look like she was going to find someone on her family to do so. That's why, on that Sunday afternoon, Lucy told her mom that she would be meeting one of her friends.

The only one that would listen to her.

The poetry club had scheduled meetings every Tuesday, Thursday and Sunday on a midtown cafe. It was a place with brick walls, hardwood floors and ceiling and a place with some couches and a small library that became the poetry corner. It was a social agreement that Sunday was the day assigned for goths. It was not like they wouldn't allow regular human beings to share their own poetry, but it wasn't exactly common for someone to decide to read a poem about flowers and love in front of an audience conformed mostly by monochromatic teenagers.

This was one of Lucy's favorite poetry groups. It wasn't as pessimistic as the Saturday group, unfortunately, but that group had lost some respect for Lucy since that day when she had had to assist dressed as Lola as a punishment for deceiving Pop Pop. Besides, two of her best friends in this existential plane used to be there. Right now, Maggie was on a trip to Paris –where she was hoping to meet a mime, for some reason–, but Lucy had sent a message to Haiku, and they'd agreed on meeting there.

Indeed, her friend was already waiting for her, sitting on one of the farthest couches. Lucy really liked Haiku. She was a great friend, she knew so much about poetry and she'd helped her contact the Beyond more than once. Not to mention the fact that she had agreed without a doubt in helping her when she needed to find a date for Lincoln's Sadie Hawkings dance. She was a great adviser and an even better friend.

Just what she needed.

"Haiku" she greeted her, sitting at some prudential two feet from her. It was important to respect personal space.

"Good afternoon, Lucy" she answered, without looking up from a notepad where she was writing what seemed to be a new poem with her bat shaped pen. "You look particularly cheerless today."

"Thanks."

"I must say that your message took me by surprise. It wasn't on my plans to attend the poetry club today. Too much sunlight."

"I'm sorry" Lucy apologized.

"Don't worry. It's been long since I've come to accept that any effort to make plans in this chaotic world is nothing but a futile waste of time and energy. We don't have any more control over our circumstances than the fish that just swims along with the flow."

"Some fishes swim counter current."

Haiku stopped moving her pen and looked up at the ceiling, thinking. For several seconds she remained in silence, reflecting on what her little friend had just said.

"True" she said, looking down and pointing at Lucy with her pen. "Anyway, even though I had not planned on meeting you here today, talking with you is a most enriching experience. In just a minute you've made me ponder about the role of humans in a world that is always trying to impose us a way of thinking and a determined behavior."

Lucy didn't find it strange to hear her talking like that. Poetry and literature helped people to open her minds, to see the world from another perspective, it helped them think. Haiku, who spent most of her time locked inside her room reading, was always rambling and reaching crazy conclusions from the most mundane conversation.

"You said there was something you needed to discuss" said Haiku, finally closing her notepad.

Lucy sighed, and her friend smiled; sighs were music to her ears.

"There something that's worrying me" she said, putting her hands on top of her knees and fidgeting with her feet. "I've tried to discuss this with Edwin, but I feel that… that I may need a human opinion. Someone on this plane of existence.

"I understand. The Beyond is wise, but sometimes it lacks the tact or clarity a human being can offer you."

"Exactly."

"What's bothering you, then?"

Lucy took a couple of minutes to carefully think her words. A normal person would've gotten impatient with her silence, but Haiku simply waited for her to be ready, without complaining or rushing her.

"There's something going on in my family" she finally said, not having found a better way to enunciate her problem.

Haiku slightly arched her eyebrows, almost imperceptibly. That was her whole reaction.

"Something that's disturbing you" said the eleven years old goth girl.

"Yes."

"Judging by the impact it seems to have on you, I assume it's an unexpected change, something you weren't ready for and that's making you feel uncomfortable."

Lucy sighed again.

"I don't understand" she complained. "I know that what happens in the physical world shouldn't affect me, that there's no point in being worried for what happens during our short stay in this finite existence plane. And yet, the situation is making me feel emotions I thought I had abnegated when I assumed my identity as a speck of dust in the cosmos."

"Even in our insignificance in the vastness of Infinity, every person is a universe on its own" Haiku told her, with the slightest hint of compassion and easiness in her monotonous voice. "We, those who had accepted our reduced role in the big scheme, are not extent of suffering the same problems that afflict the rest of the people. We're not weak for giving in on our emotions every once in a while."

"I know… I… I know" she repeated. "But I'm just not used to this. Haiku… I'm scared."

"Nothing in life is to be feared, it is only to be understood" quoted Haiku.

"It's about Lincoln" Lucy finally said.

Haiku turned her head to look at Lucy at a speed that seemed too strange in someone who took things with such calm.

"Your brother, Lincoln" she said, stating the obvious.

"Yes. He… He was in the hospital last week."

Briefly and without going into much details, Lucy explained her friend the incident on the park exactly seven days ago, when Lincoln had been taken to the hospital.

"But he's better now, isn't he?" Asked Haiku, and for a second, Lucy thought she'd heard some worry on her words.

"He was there just for two days. He's in the house now, and he seems to be fine."

Haiku's face seemed to be unalterable, but Lucy managed to detect a slight relief.

"What's the problem, then?"

"I think… I think he was close to dying" she griefly said.

She told Haiku about what she had heard from the vents, his grieving father. She also told her about the spiraling depression her older sisters seemed to have gotten into: Luan's silence, Lynn's violence, Luna's recklessness. How absent Lori seemed to be lately, like she suddenly wasn't interested in controlling absolutely everything. And also how she'd seen Leni take a nap with Lincoln for the first time in years.

"It's not only my older sisters, he's acting weird too" she explained. "This whole week I haven't seen him fighting for the TV, or reading his comics, or anything really. He's spending a lot of time with my mom, working on something that he doesn't want anyone to find out, and our older sisters are pampering him all the time. I think… I think the doctors saved him from death just in time, and everyone else is so affected because they're thinking about how it would be if… If he had..."

Her voice trembled, and she couldn't finish the sentence. Just by thinking of it…

"Lucy" started Haiku, having listened with attention all her friend had to say, "are you sure your brother is okay? What you're describing… It doesn't sounds like they're relief that he's fine after all."

"He's fine" she assured her.

"How do you know?"

"I asked him, and he promised me that he was fine" she assuredly said.

Haiku waited a few seconds before continuing.

"And don't you think that he might have lied to you?"

Lucy looked straight at her eyes.

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"He promised me" she repeated, with the same faith and confidence she would have used to state that black was her favorite color.

Haiku opened up her mouth as if to reply, but she evidently changed her mind. She didn't say anything, and the two girls stayed quiet, hearing a fourteen years old boy reciting a poem, to everyone's hidden joy.

"Haiku..."

"Yes?"

"You know I'm comfortable with death as a concept, right?"

"Of course."

Lucy put her feet on the couch, risking being scolded by the manager, but her need to embrace her own knees highly overwhelmed his fear of being lectured in public.

"And yet… Just by thinking that Lincoln might have been close to die…" She couldn't help having a chill going down her spine. "It scares me to just think about it."

For a moment, her voice didn't sound like it usually did. Her last words weren't monotonous and whispering, they were clearly filled with fear, sadness and confusion. To say that she had no emotions was a lie. She loved, she feared, she could be happy and she could be sad, just like any other person. The big difference was that she never let her emotions take the best of her, she never let herself be controlled by emotional impulses. She could control herself. She could hide her feelings behind a mask of seriousness. At least, that's how it had always been since she could remember, that's how it had always been up until this last week, when she started to think about Lincoln having being close to death. Specifically, when she thought about the possibility of Lincoln actually dying.

Whenever she thought of it, she lost her composure.

"Of course it scares you. It's normal."

"But I'm not normal."

"Lucy" her friend said, with the corner of her lips forming a tiny smile, "you still have a lot to learn. Our fascination on the Beyond does not make us any different than the rest of the people. We can dissimulate out insecurities, we can hide behind a masquerade of apathy and black clothes, but we're just as vulnerable as an athlete or a school teacher are. In the end, we're all the same."

"But..."

"You will only accept yourself when you understand that your life style doesn't make you better or inferior than anyone else. You shouldn't be ashamed of feeling vulnerable or scared."

"But we bury our feelings, we deny them" Lucy complained, not really understanding what Haiku was telling her. "All these years, I've been told that we shouldn't give in to out emotions."

"That doesn't mean they're bad."

"Then why do we deny them?"

"Because, usually, pretending that we don't care is less painful."

Lucy wasn't fully convinced. She knew that Haiku was more mature and experimented in the goth life style than her, but she couldn't help to think that it was her friend the one who didn't get it. For years, she had learned that goths had no emotions, that they had no heart, that only simple mortals could be affected by banal things. She had texted Haiku because she was needing someone to help her realize that she shouldn't be feeling that bad. She needed someone to give her an advice on how to avoid those emotions.

Instead, Haiku was now making her question everything she had taken for granted for so long.

Even though she tried to keep her face as imperturbable as always, some of her worry and her troubled mind must have been reflected there.

"Lucy, have you read the last book in The Edwin Chronicles?" Haiku suddenly asked.

"Yes" Lucy answered, looking up at her friend.

"Do you remember why Edwin murdered Count Le Valliere on the Bloody Moon Night?"

"Because he needed the blood of a man who had killed six times to complete the purification ritual."

"And why did he wanted to do the ritual?"

"To save Rebecca from Francoise's snake poison."

"And why did he murder his main political partner, the one who was about to introduce him to the King's court? Why did he ruined the plans he had been working on for thirty years? Why did he sacrifice everything for Rebecca?"

"Because he didn't want her to die" she obviously said, starting to wonder what was her friend's point in all those questions.

"Exactly. Edwin, the Night Stalker, Prince of Darkness, was afraid of losing whom he loved the most."

Two teenagers and an adult had time to recite their poems, as the two girls in the back remained in silence. The younger one was thinking, reflecting on every word that had just being said, while her friend was simply respecting her silence, giving her time to clear her mind. The minutes kept passing, though, and Lucy didn't seem to be feeling any better.

"Lucy, your brother loves you" Haiku finally said, letting out a big sigh. "I'm sure that he wouldn't like to see you so worried over what's probably nothing. Go home and talk with him. Tell him everything you told me, tell him that you're afraid of losing him. He'll know how to make you feel better."

"My dad took him to the museum, he won't be home for a while" said Lucy.

"Then use that time and write him a poem telling him all these things."

"I..." Lucy, once again, sighed. "Alright. I'll do that. Thanks, Haiku. You are a great friend."

"You're welcome. Good luck."

Lucy got up and walked a few steps before she heard Haiku calling her name. When she turned around, her friend was barely inches away from her. Haiku's ability to appear out of nowhere was legendary.

"One more thing" she slowly said. "When I answered your call and went to the Sadie Hawkings dance with your brother, he lied to me for most part of the night, making me believe that he was there with me only."

Lucy felt the need to defend her brother. It had been all his fault for lying to his sisters, yes, but he had actually tried his best to make it an enjoyable night for Giggles, Polly, Tabby and Haiku herself. Any other boy would've plainly ignored them or haven't cared at all, but Lincoln had worked hard to make them have a good time, even if he only did it because of his sister's pressure.

"In his defense…" she started to say.

"No" Haiku interrupted her. "He lied to me, he deceived me, but in the most considered way possible, trying to make me and the other girls have a good time, so none of us would feel alone. He lied, yes, but he did it with good intentions."

"What are you trying to say?"

"You know what I was trying to say."

Haiku returned to her place in the couch and Lucy got out of the cafe, walking home in silence, but with a big debate going on inside her head.

It was close to four in the afternoon, and Lucy was sitting next to the small desk on her room, having finally finished a long poem for her brother. It was definitely not one of her best works, the metric was off at some points, and she'd rhymed "always" with itself more than once. But it was a poem that tried to tell Lincoln how much she loved him, how worried she was about him. She knew that he wouldn't be bothered by some small mistakes here and there.

Her bedroom door was opened, and Lynn came in, wearing her red bathrobe and a towel on her wet hair. She had just finished one of her exercise sessions and had taken a shower. Most people wouldn't believe it, but Lynn was definitely the one who showered the most in the Loud House. With all her exercise, it was necessary for her to be constantly taking showers, even though not even with five daily baths she smelled near as good as Lola.

She didn't say anything to Lucy when she saw her writing her poems. She stared at her for a fraction of a second and then she went to her bed and started getting dressed. Lucy assumed that she was still angry at her for the interrogation she had put her through in the morning during breakfast.

Swallowing her pride, Lucy grabbed her finished poem and stood up.

"Do you know when is dad coming home?" She asked her older sister. She asked for her father instead of Lincoln, trying to not raise suspicions.

Lynn, as she put on her classic red shorts, barely looked in her direction.

"No" she coldly answered.

Lucy didn't need to hear more to realize that things between them weren't good at all. With a sigh, she left her room. A small part of her was waiting for Lynn to call her and tell her she was sorry.

A small part of her was disappointed.

She got out of her room and into the hall. She would've walked all the way down to the living room, to hide in the chimney like she often did, but her eyes were soon focusing on Lincoln's room. Usually, she would have simply hide under her brother's bed, waiting for him to come back home and surprising him appearing when he least expected it. But since their parents had given him a new key to his room, it was impossible for her to walk inside unnanounced.

After making sure that none of her sisters were in the hall, Lucy quickly walked next to her brother's bedroom door. She knew that it was pointless, but she still liked to try to see if the door was actually locked, just in case it wasn't. So far Lincoln had never forgotten to lock it, but that's didn't keep her from trying.

Surprisingly enough, the doorknob moved, and she heard the unmistakable 'click'.

Lincoln was standing under his bedroom's door frame, petrified, unable to move. He was wishing for an earthquake to happen, to earth to split in two and take him to the deepest part of the Tartarus. He remembered that time when he and Clyde had ended up inside a bear's cave, and how they had saved themselves by pretending they were dead. Lincoln wanted to play dead, but he couldn't. There was no way out of the situation.

Lucy had entered his room. She was standing facing away from him, right into his new calendar, and she was also holding his bucket list, thoroughly reading it. The situation was bad. Very bad. Terrible. It was a nightmare.

The simple act of picturing himself telling the truth to his little sisters was dreadful, it scared him like nothing else had ever sacred him, not even The Harvester movie. That Monday morning when his older sisters had found out about him, Lincoln had lived the worst hours of his life. For a whole week now, Lincoln had lived some very emotional moments. Emotional, painful and utterly depressive moments with his sisters, his friends, his parents. What Lincoln had realized, though, was that the worst part was always finding out about the news. No one was ever prepared for receiving such news, something so terrible and unexpected. The pain didn't seem to wear off, at least not in just a couple of days judging by what Lincoln could see on his sisters and friends, but they could at least pretend and conceal a big part of their pain and sadness. That wasn't the case when they all found out. At that moment, there was no way of hiding the pain. They couldn't avoid letting it all out.

Seeing his little sisters suffering like that would wreck Lincoln's fragile heart. That's why he had asked for some time to confess the truth to his little sisters. Because he was simply not ready, he wasn't prepared to do it. It was perhaps a selfish decision, but he didn't want to go through the same situation that he had lived with his older sisters at the hospital. It was too painful. Besides, it's not like he was planning on never telling them, he was just asking for a little time. He hadn't lied to his father when he told him that he was willing to come clean with his younger sisters the next day. He knew that it wouldn't be easy, but he could imagine himself sitting alone with them and talking with them in the least painful way possible. He had even looked for a poem for Lucy about it.

But now Lucy had found out on her own, probably without expecting it, without him there to explain it all to her. He was appalled. He didn't know what to do. He didn't know what was going through Lucy's mind. His heart was beating like a racehorse's, threatening to beat its way out of his chest. He barely had enough mental clarity to understand that he couldn't just stand there forever.

"Lucy" he said, walking nearer, closing the door behind him.

He put a trembling hand on the girl's shoulder. She softly turned her around, and she let herself be moved. Lincoln saw that Lucy was reading his Objectives List. Just by reading the title, 'Operation Farewell', she could finish piecing it all together. To read each objective seemed like stretching out the pain, to add yet another nail to the coffin.

"Lucy, relax" he said, although it was really him who needed to urgently relax. "Let's sit down."

He tried to lead her to his bed, so they could sit together and he could explain it all to her, but Lucy finally snapped back to reality and free herself from Lincoln's soft grip. She looked up at her brother, and even though Lincoln couldn't see her eyes behind her bangs, he still felt her gaze piercing him like two sharped blades.

"Lucy..."

The girl's fingers closed themselves on the paper, messing it up.

"You're dying" she finally said, extending her arm to show him his list.

Lincoln felt like he was swallowing a rock wrapped in barbed wire.

"Listen, let's just sit down and talk this out, okay?" He repeated, moving closer, trying to put an arm around her shoulders or something. But Lucy took a step back.

"You're not okay" she said, shaking her head. "I… You… You told me you were fine."

"Please, don't do this..."

"But you're dying."

Lincoln closed his eyes and started to massage his temples.

"I… Lucy… I sweat, it's not what it looks like" he started to say, immediately regretting having said so.

"Isn't it? 'Operation Farewell'? 'See a sunset'? 'Fix things with Lynn'?" She said, starting to read out loud some of his objectives. "You… You made a new calendar. Why did you threw the old one? Why… Why doesn't it even go to the end of the month?"

He had seen Lucy sad before, like that time when she believed Rocky didn't like her because she was too weird. It wasn't really a very different picture from everyday Lucy: she sighed a little more often and she spoke a little slower. But he had never seen her like he was seeing her right then, her whole body shivering, having troubles to speak fluently, her voice shaking. He wasn't prepared for that.

"Lucy, look at me" he said, trying to keep some kind of control over the whole situation, "let's sit down for a sec so we can talk, alright?"

"No!" She fiercely said. "Stop avoiding it! Tell me… Just tell me the truth! Are you dying?!"

Lincoln held her gaze. Ever since that Monday afternoon when his sisters had visited him at the hospital, he knew that he would have to face this situation. He had promised her that he was okay. She believed him, she had hugged him with an unexampled amount of tenderness and relief in the little goth girl. He knew that he had dig his own grave by lying to her, but what other choice did he have? He had known from the first moment that he would have to eventually face the consequences of his lie.

"Yes."

Lucy's hand lost its grip on Lincoln's list, letting it fall to the floor. She started to breath through her mouth, with her chest moving exaggeratedly, like every puff of air required an enormous effort. As his eyes started to itch, Lincoln how his little sister was staggering to his desk, trying to find some support for her suddenly weak legs. That was all it took to trigger Lincoln's older brother instinct. He quickly went to her and gave her a hug.

"Lucy, don't worry" he said, gently stroking her hair. "I'm here. I'm here with you. I'll always be."

He had studied and memorized tens of phrases to tell his friends and family. He had prepared three different scripts about how to tell the truth to his sisters. And yet, at that precise moment, he could barely remember his own name. He was feeling Lucy trembling between his arms. He considered the possibility of calling out for Lori to help him, but that would only attract everyone's attention, and he didn't want that. He was lost, he simply had no clue of what to do.

"You lied to me."

Lucy's words, in a painful whisper, only made him feel even worse.

"You promised."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"You promised."

"Lucy, I—"

"No!"

She tried to push him off, but Lincoln tightened his embrace.

"Lucy, calm down" he asked her.

"Go away!"

The two of them started to struggle. Lincoln was bigger and had the upper hand, but Lucy was doing all she could to push him away from her, and eight years old girls could be extremely violent whenever they felt like it. Lincoln was trying to contain her, but she wouldn't stop moving.

"Lucy, please, let me explain it!"

"No!"

"I never meant to hurt you, I didn't want to—"

"LET ME GO!"

Lincoln's hands let her go, and she took the opportunity to grab the first thing that she could find, that being a math book, and threw it right at Lincoln's face. The unexpected impact made him fall back, and Lincoln was left in the floor, grabbing his face in pain, only being able to hear the sound of his bedroom door being opened and some quick steps going down the stairs. By the time he was finally up, the rest of the girls were poking their heads out of their rooms into the hall.

"Lola, Lana, are you guys fighting again?" Asked Lori, frowning at them.

"No!" Said both twins.

"Then why did you screamed like that, Lola?" Asked Luna.

"Me? It was Leni!"

"Of course not! My voice is not that sharp!" Leni complained.

"Then who was it?" Wondered Luan, confused.

"Lucy!"

The nine girls turned to look at Lincoln, who had picked up the key he'd left in his desk that morning and was closing his bedroom door as fast as he could. When he turned around he gave his older sisters a quick look, starting from Lynn, the closest, to Lori and Leni at the end of the hall. Even if his pale face would have not been enough, and they wouldn't have understood what was going on with the look he was giving them, his terrified voice told them that something was very wrong.

"It was Lucy!" He said, before running downstairs.

There was immediately a lot of movement upstairs, but he didn't care. All his mind could think of right then was that he needed to catch Lucy before she could ran away. The entry door was partially open. He stepped into the front yard as fast as he could, and he looked right and left. There were no signs of Lucy. Everything was normal, the kites on the tree, the boomerang in the roof, the bike against… Wait…

He ran to the middle of the street. He looked at his right and saw nothing. Then he looked at his left.

"LUCY!"

He started to run, but the small figure was pedaling away too fast for him to catch her, mounting on Lynn's former bike, the one that she had handed down to Lincoln and that he had tried to give to Lana. She had accepted it the first day, but after fixing it and doing some improvements, she gave it back to Lincoln. She would rather be the official mechanic.

And unfortunately, she had done an excellent job at improving the bike. Lucy was dashing like an arrow through the streets.

"LUCY!" He yelled once again as loud as he could, stopping just a few steps from where he started to run. "LUCY!"

If she actually heard him, he wouldn't know. She kept pedaling, becoming smaller and smaller as the distance between her and Lincoln grew. He was completely terrified. Where was she going to? How much had it affected her? Very much, evidently, but what if she was so affected she started to pedal recklessly? She was going just too fast, she didn't seem to slow down on the corners. What if a distracted driver ran her over?!

He heard many fast footsteps behind him, and he didn't need to look behind him to know that his sisters had finally come down.

"What happened?" Asked a worried Leni.

Lincoln turned around and his eyes looked for Lori's, finding them in a second, looking at him with worry. He didn't need to tell her anything, his look was eloquent enough. Luna and Luan got it immediately too.

"I'll tell dad" the rocker said, running right back into the house.

"Lori, she's getting away! We don't know where she's heading to!" Lincoln beseeching told her.

"I'm on it!"

They tried to look behind them, but a red blur dashed besides them at an incredible speed, and they needed to look back into the street to see Lynn, wearing her helmet and her rollers, going as fast as she could en Lucy's direction. Lucy had a big head start, but Lincoln knew his older sister, and he knew that she wouldn't stop until she would catch up with her.

"Lola, Lana, you go inside with mom. Luan, stay here and contact us if anything happen" Lori immediately ordered, with such vehemence that no one dared to question her. "Leni, you're coming with me."

"Where are you going?" Lincoln asked, as the rest of his sisters did as Lori told them, and his two oldest sisters were stepping inside Vanzilla.

"To the graveyard, obviously" answered Lori. "She's definitely going there to be alone with her ghost friends or something."

Lincoln wasn't entirely sure about that.

"Are coming with us?"

He thought about it. He didn't really believe that his little sister would be going to the graveyard. But it was undeniably a plausible option, and he wasn't in the position of being able to reject any idea.

"Alright. Let's go."

Lincoln received a call from Lynn as Lori, Leni and himself were finally reaching the grave yard. Sounding completely grieved and on the verge of tears, she told him that she had lost Lucy's tracks in the traffic around midtown. Lincoln had to calm her down and tell her that it wasn't her fault, that she had done her best. She offered herself to keep looking for Lucy all over town, but Lincoln asked her to go back home and to not worry, that they would find Lucy.

When his two older sisters and him finally got to the graveyard, Lincoln felt a chill on her spine. He got out of the van, but his legs wouldn't move. He had always been scared of places like that, and it would scare him to go inside there even if it was plain day.

But now he was also extremely nervous, thinking that the next time his family would go there was probably going to be to bury him.

"Linky, are you okay?" Asked Leni, realizing that her little brother was just standing in his place outside the van, looking terrified at the high concrete walls.

Lori also turned to see him. Lincoln tried to keep his look from betraying him. The only thing that mattered right now was to find Lucy, he didn't want them to be worried about him. But he couldn't move. He couldn't say anything. Those wall that separated the living from the dead was too much for him, it made him feel extremely uneasy.

His eldest sister looked at him for a couple of seconds, trying to figure out what was wrong, until she finally realized it.

"Oh, Lincoln..."

She quickly went next to him, knelt down and hugged him tight.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't know… I didn't realize..."

"No, it's… it's okay" he told her, hugging her back.

Lori broke away from the hug, but still left a hand on his shoulder, and started to unnecessarily fix Lincoln's hair, perhaps looking for an excuse to caress him.

"Do you want to stay here? Leni and I can go inside and look for Lucy, and we'll text you if we find her."

Lincoln softly nodded. Lori, with her face full of guilt and regret, stood up and led Leni inside the graveyard. Her sister didn't seem to fully understand what was going on, and looked back on her shoulder to look at Lincoln as she followed Lori. The eleven years old boy was left alone next to the family van, in front of Royal Woods graveyard.

He wanted to go inside and help finding his sister, to be with her as soon as possible. There was nothing more important for him right then than making sure that Lucy was okay. Even if she hated him for having lied to her. It didn't matter, he just wanted to know that nothing bad had happened to her. He wanted to help her understand. And yet, he didn't want to go into the cemetery. He didn't want to be there, he didn't want to get any closer. It was foolishness, it was so dumb… but he couldn't avoid feeling terrified by it.

He kicked the curb, feeling incredible useless. That was definitely not the moment to be worried about his imminent… about him. He should be completely focused on Lucy. He needed to help find her.

The only comfort he could find in his impotence was the fact that he didn't believe that Lucy was there. He understood why would Lori think that. Lucy would have definitely went to a place where she could feel comfortable, secure, where she could be alone, probably places where death was in the air. But Lucy was also an extremely smart girl. Not like Lisa, but she was intelligent enough to know that if she wanted to be alone, she shouldn't go to the first place her family would look for her.

Lincoln started to think about all the possible places Lucy might have gone other than the cemetery. The Jenkins's old house seemed like a good option; many believed that it was haunted. The tree on the highest hill was a place where supposedly a lot of people had hung themselves to end their lives, so maybe Lucy was there right then. Or she might be in the park's pond. It wasn't scary at all, but it was a nice place to think. Lincoln continued to think about where his sister might be, until he looked down the street. Just five blocks from there was the junk yard.

He stared at it for a few minutes, pondering the possibilities. He looked back at the graveyard. His sisters had just gotten inside a few minutes ago, it would take them a while to inspect it all. Instead of just standing there without doing anything useful, the least he could do was trying to help.

He walked fast paced the very few blocks that separated him from the junkyard, only to get there and find out that apparently it was closed on Sundays. He shook the link wire fence, but the chains and padlock were keeping it closed. He let out a defeated groan. He started to walk back to the van, looking down and with his hands inside his jean pockets. He saw a can and furiously kicked it with all his strength. He followed it as it flew to the street corner, falling just a few feet away from a bush. Hadn't he looked that way, he would've missed a metallic reflection from said bush. He walked closer and checked it out.

He was utterly surprised when he realized it was his own bike. He started to urgently looked everywhere. He imagined how a random passerby would think of him as a crazy little boy, turning his head from side to side like a meerkat, looking for a clue. And he finally found it: there was a small opening in the fence.

Lincoln quickly took out his phone and texted Lori:

"I think I found her. I'm going inside the junkyard. Wait for us outside."

He inspected the hole someone had opened sometime ago. He tried to stretched it, but he couldn't do much about it. He had to drop himself to the floor and crawl his way inside, and even so a loose wire scratched his head and hooked in his polo shirt, piercing a little hole in it by his ribcage. That was his favorite orange polo, but he didn't care at all. He simply shook the dust out of himself before he started to run between the giant walls of piled up junk and destroyed cars. He was tempted to start to scream Lucy's name, but if she was really there, he didn't want to give her a chance of running away from him once again.

He strolled the place for many minutes, looking for any sign of Lucy. The place was immense, and there were many places where she might be hiding. He walked and he walked, until he finally saw, sitting on top of an old and rusty Camaro's bonnet, a small white and black figure. Lincoln finally let out a sigh and quickly hid behind a car, trying to think what could he do.

He had pictured this scene multiple times throughout the week. He had planned different ways of approaching his sisters, how to bring up the subject, he had studied phrases that might be useful to make them feel better. Of course, he hadn't really thought that he would be needing to talk with them in a junkyard after his little sister would find the truth by herself and would run away from the house. He started to think on what he could do.

The tumors on his brain were killing him, and Lincoln hated them with all his will. But besides ending prematurely with his life, his tumors had given him two distinctive traits. They were the cause of his white hair, and they had also caused him attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder. That's why he was so original with his plans, so fast to find clever ways of solving his problems. And right then, hiding behind a car, Lincoln asked his brain to use that condition, to take advantage of the side effects of his slow death.

Just like he had once needed just five minutes to come up with a play script to convince his parents to take him and all his siblings to that luxury vacation hotel, Lincoln was now wishing to be able to come up with a plan to talk with Lucy. He closed his eyes and tried to focus, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't think of any way to talk with her. He was desperate for a plan. But then he took a peek at Lucy. She was definitely crying, sitting on an old car's bonnet, after running away from their home. All because of his plans.

He felt his phone vibrating. He had some messages from Lori. He quickly texted her to leave them alone, to just wait for them. He also told her where Lucy had left his bike. Lori asked him to let them get in with him, to help him, and Lincoln thought about it. A part of him wanted to accept her help. But Lucy deserved an explanation from him, personally, and he wanted to do that alone. It may not had much sense, but Lincoln felt like it was something that should be kept between them two, only. So he begged Lori to just wait for them to come out.

Before putting his phone back into his pocket, he texted Luan. He told her to ask their parents for a spare key to his room and get there. He also pleaded her to not look at the things he had on his wall. He send her instructions on how to unlock his computer, and told her to text him a link he had saved in his browser's bookmarks. Once the message was sent, Lincoln sighed and mentally prepared himself for what he was about to do.

He had no plan whatsoever.

He simply walked to the old Camaro, and as he got closer, his little sister crying became louder. It was so weird to listen Lucy crying like any other eight years old girl… It was an image he though he would never witness. An image he wished he would had never had to see. With his heart about to crack into a thousand pieces, he kept walking, stopping right in front of the car.

"Lucy."

Another strange image: a startled Lucy. It wasn't common for someone to spook her. That was her job. She looked up and looked at Lincoln. Tears were running down both her cheeks and her lips were shaking like she was swimming in ice-cold water.

"Please, don't run" Lincoln asked her while he slowly, very slowly put his hands on the car and got on top of its bonnet.

Lucy crawled back until her back hit the windshield, but she didn't seem to have any intentions of running away again, which Lincoln considered as a tiny, small victory. He crawled near her and stop himself right in front of her. She was still crying and shivering, with her shoulder and chest spasming with every pant that left her throat.

Lincoln was suddenly aware of how small his little sister looked like. She was hysterically crying, with her knees against her chest and his hands trying their best to wipe the tears from her cheeks, but it was impossible to keep them dry considering how fast the tears were coming out from the corner of her eyes. Lincoln honestly didn't remember ever seeing her so affected by anything in her life.

It was painful to see.

"Lucy, I know I did wrong" he told her, with as much regret as he could muster. "I know I promised you I was okay, and I hurt you with that lie."

He waited for her to say something, but Lucy was still just sitting there, crying. Meanwhile, he felt his phone vibrating again. He guessed it was Luan.

"The truth is..." he continued, "the truth is I didn't want you guys to know it yet. Not you, Lana, Lola, or Lisa. I didn't want to tell you because… because I knew the news would hurt you. I knew it would hit you guys really hard, I knew that..."

He stopped himself in the middle of his improvised speech. He looked at his little sister, crying her heart out, possibly hating him for what he had done. And after considering for a few seconds, Lincoln sighed, making an important decision.

No more lies.

"The truth is I didn't want to tell you because I wasn't ready" he finally said, feeling defeated. "I wasn't trying to protect you guys, I was trying to protect myself. I didn't want to see you like this, but not because of you, but because of me. I don't… I can't stand seeing you crying. It breaks my heart to see you like this. And also… Also I..."

He clenched his fist and closed his eyes. He needed to be strong.

"I also didn't want to tell you because everytime I speak with someone I love about it, it gets harder" he confessed. "I thought it'd be easier, but it's not. Because when I talk about it, I'm accepting that I'm going to… that it'll happen, and I… I'm scared. I'm afraid, and I don't know what to do. And I just assumed that with you guys I would have to explain a lot of things, and I really didn't want… well, I don't want to go through it."

He stopped just for a second to catch his breath. He was starting to ramble, to grief for his upcoming death, when he should be trying to comfort Lucy.

"I should've known that I was just hurting you by lying. I should've known that if there's someone in this family who knows about death it's you, that I wasn't 'protecting'. On the contrary. I should have not lied to you. It was wrong. And if you hate me… I understand that."

Even if his sister's bangs didn't let him look at her eyes, he could still feel her eyes staring at him. He felt the disappointment, the weight of the treason he had committed on her trust. He had to look elsewhere.

"I-I don't hate y-you."

It was like someone else had spoken. Lincoln had to turn around to realize that there was no one else with them, because for the first time in so many years, Lucy had spoken with her natural voice. It wasn't that gloomy, whispering voice she used most of the time. Her voice had been just like it any other eight years old girl. Like a normal girl. Like a scared girl.

"You don't?" Asked Lincoln, mainly because he wanted to hear her again.

"Of c-course not" she answered between sobs. "I'm not… I'm not crying b-because you lied."

Lincoln was honestly surprised.

"I thought you… I thought that's why you—"

"Isn't it obvious?!" She interrupted him, with an anger and desperation that seemed so out of character on her. "I'm crying because you're dying!"

As soon as she said it, she bursted into crying once again. It was extremely painful to see her like that, crying like any other little girl. That wasn't Lucy.

Or maybe that was the real Lucy, the authentic, the one that Lincoln had stupidly forgotten that existed.

He crawled closer and wrapped his arms around her. Lucy didn't fight back this time, and let him drag her and sit her on his lap, until she was lying against his chest, almost in a fetal position, soaking his favorite polo with her tears. Lincoln's eyes started to shed some tears too, but she couldn't see that, so he decided to pay no mind to it, hoping that it may pass unnoticed by her.

"It's okay" he told her, softly caressing her back. "I'm here, Lucy. I'm with you. I'll always be."

"No..."

"Of course I will. Even if you can't see me or listen to me, I'll be with you, making sure you're okay" he told her, finally remembering some of the phrases he had practiced so many times in his room, "every step of the way."

"L-Lincoln…"

"I'm gonna still watch over you, Lucy. I'll never leave you alone. Whenever you need me, I'll—"

"But I need you here!"

Lucy pressed her face against Lincoln's chest, moving her head side to side, like he was trying to dig herself there.

"I d-don't… I don't want you there. I have friend there, but I need you here. I need t-to touch you. To feel you. To hear your voice. I need you t-to… To help me with my poems. To hear me out. To ask me how m-my day was."

"Lucy… You… You'll never be alone, if that's what's scaring you" he told her, gently stroking her hair. "You could never be alone in our family."

"It won't be the same."

"Maybe not… But I'm sure that you'll discover that it'll be better than you think right now."

"How? How could it be good without you there?" She asked, almost without any breath left. "You don't understand… Death… Oblivion… Being forgotten… I need you. I need you here with me."

He just embraced her tighter. He didn't know what to say. He tried to find the right words, but they didn't occur to him. Luckily, he didn't need to know the right words; only where to find them. And during the last few days, specially between Wednesday and Thursday, he had been looking for a lot of things, and he had found something special for Lucy.

With some difficulty, he used one of his hands to take his phone out of his pocket. He immediately opened the message from Luan —whom had been considered enough to not ask him anything about what he had told her to do— and opened the link she'd send him. He waited for his internet connection to open the page.

"I have a poem for you" he said in a whisper, as he scrolled down the page with his thumb until he found the poem.

Lucy didn't say anything or moved her head, but she managed to reduce the volume of her crying a little. Just enough to allow Lincoln to clear his throat and start reciting the poem in the most serene and calm way he could, given the circumstances.

Do not stand at my grave and weepI am not there. I do not sleep.I am a thousand winds that blow.I am the diamond glints on snow.I am the sunlight on ripened grain.I am the gentle autumn rain.When you awaken in the morning's hushI am the swift uplifting rushOf quiet birds in circled flight.I am the soft stars that shine at night.Do not stand at my grave and cry;I am not there. I did not die

He put his phone against the windshield and seized the moment to slyly wipe some of his tears.

"You talk about being forgotten… I'm scared about that too, Lucy. But… Tell me the truth, do you think you could ever forget me?"

She snuggled more into him, violently shaking her head no.

"That's all I need, then. To know that my precious little sister will remind me. With that I… I can g-go feeling content."

He gulped.

"You won't need a crystal ball to talk with me, Lucy" he assured her. "Whenever you feel alone, whenever you want to share one of your poems with me, or… or when you simply want to talk with me, you just have to close your eyes, and I'll be there."

"B-B-But I… I w-… I won't hear you..."

"You won't need to."

"Yes I will."

"Maybe" he granted, not looking to argue with her, "but you'll know I'm with you all the same. You'll know it here."

And ever so softly, he pressed his index finger on her chest, right where her heart was.

"You don't need to hear me to know that I love you, that I've always loved you and I always will. I will forever be your big brother" he told her, as he gently put a hand under Lucy's chin and slowly lifted her head up so she would look at his eyes. "Not even death can change that."

She kept crying, looking at his eyes. And even though he was still visibly moved by the entire situation, he managed to flash her a smile, as he continued to caress one of her cheeks. He used his thumb to wipe a tear that was running down her cheekbone, and in the process —a little by accident, a little on purpose— he moved her bangs.

For the first time in some years, Lincoln could finally look at his sister's eyes, with no hair in the middle. It was like knowing her again. It seemed so dumb, but Lincoln had almost forgotten about Lucy's small eyes. How small, round and bright they were, like two gemstones. The most amazing thing, however, was that even after so many years hidden beneath a thick layer of black hair, her eyes were as light and bright as Lincoln could remember having seen them long ago.

He started to remember dozens of moments he had shared with his little sister. He remembered that picture with him, Luan and Lucy in a mechanical horse. He remembered that time when they had both fallen asleep in the vents, covered by Lincoln's blanket, sleeping peacefully together while the rest of the family were looking for them. He remember Lucy's smile and excitement when he had decided to dress as a vampire to go trick or treating with her on a Halloween night.

Reminiscing about all those moments they had both shared, Lincoln couldn't help himself and leaned against Lucy, tenderly kissing her forehead.

"I-I… I love you" she said, putting one hand over Lincoln's, feeling his warmth, enjoying his touch.

Lincoln softly nodded, closing his eyes.

"I love you too."

When the sun started to hide behind the buildings on the west side of town, Lincoln decided that he couldn't keep ignoring Lori's messages. Very carefully, he moved one of the arms that were holding Lucy, whom was embracing him like she would never let him go, and grabbed his phone. He texted Lori that they were okay, that they would be coming out any second now.

"Lucy" he said, finding out that his throat was sore; he shouldn't have been surprised, considering what had happened for the last couple of hours, "we need to go. Everyone's worried."

She said nothing. She didn't reacted. She kept hugging him in silence, with just the occasional panting of a faint and drained crying. Lincoln decided to take the initiative and, being very careful, he managed to get off the car and stood up, dragging Lucy along with him. Now that they were both standing, she had to settle with just wrapping herself around his left arm, resting her head on his shoulder and trying to be as close to him as possible. The two of them started to slowly walk to the hole in the fence.

"Lincoln" she said, and her voice still sounded like that of a normal kid, just a little more tired than before, like the words were having trouble leaving her throat, "how did you find me here?"

"I was at the graveyard" he explained. "And I knew that you wouldn't go to a place so obvious. Then I saw the junkyard in the distance and thought… This is the closest thing you found to a graveyard, right? A place were cars come to die, where they are recycled. This is the final destination for cars, and with them, all the dreams and experiences people lived in them."

Lucy didn't say anything. She just tightened her grip on him. Further words seemed to be unnecessary, so Lincoln simply rested his head over hers. They kept walking until they reached the fence hole. Having someone to hold the wire while they were crawling out proved to be very effective, and they managed to get out of the junkyard without any more scratches.

Lori and Leni were waiting for them inside Vanzilla. Lori was on the driver seat, and Leni in the back, waiting for them. She opened the door, and Lincoln and Lucy got inside. They sat without worrying about the sweet spot. No one said anything. Lucy ended up being in the middle of Leni and Lincoln, leaning against him. Leni stretched her arms so she could hug them both.

"What you said about the junkyard..." Lucy suddenly said after several minutes of silence, startling both Lori and Leni with her voice. "That's not why I went there."

Lincoln looked at her.

"Then why did you?"

Lucy snuggled more against him.

"That's were dad retrieved Vanzilla after getting rid of Veronica. That's where everything went back to the way it was."

The rest of the way back home was very quiet.

.

.

Writing fanfiction is way easier, in many aspects, than writing a professional novel. We all know that. Even when we're trying to write as best as we can, even when we take our stories seriously (and believe me, I take this VERY seriously), we're not bound to comply with many things and standards that we would if we were writing a novel for an editorial. That's why I can take the liberty of making cameos of my favorite characters and put my favorite music in my story. That's also why the expectations should always be lower than with a published work.

However, there's one catch with fanfics. At least for me. And that is that I publish chapters at the same speed as I write them. I mean, I finish a chapter, and I update my story, so you guys can read it. I don't have the opportunity to write the whole story, finish it, and then start to re-read it and fix all the issues it has. Look for any "How to write a novel" guide and you'll find that the first step is always writing the first draft, and then there comes all the editing and the real work. Because the first try is never perfect.

Never.

This is my first try on this chapter. And as you may have noticed, it has a lot of issues. The last scene between Lucy and Lincoln isn't nearly as emotional, as deep and as intense as it should be. I've tried to fix it many times, but I just can't. This is the best I can do right now. I need time, perspective, fresh air and hindsight to realize what's exactly wrong with this and find the way to add all the things I wanted to tell and I couldn't. I wanted to add more depth in Lucy and Lincoln's relationship, I wanted to deepen into Lucy's fears and insecurities, into Lincoln's state of mind at this point. But… I couldn't. I'm sorry, but I honestly couldn't do it in a way that I was happy with it.

So this is how my first draft on this chapter ends. Now I'll go on with the rest of the story, I'll start writing chapter 18 as soon as I can, and I will finish Requiem. But after it's finished, I'll come back to this chapter and will try to make this a great chapter like it deserves. Not just a regular chapter.

You can agree with me, you can still enjoy this chapter and give me ideas or advices on how to improve it, and I'd be grateful. Or you can hate me, you can tell me that this chapter was shit and that I'm overreacting. You may be right about all of that. I'm just your average ordinary everyday amateur writer. I'm not perfect. I make mistakes, and I can't have every chapter being better than the previous. Sometimes I mess up.

I'm human.

Speaking of which, in two hours it's my birthday (timezones, huh), so I'm expecting y'all be wishing me a happy birthday. If you won't, I may wait a month before updating again, muahahaha.