(Lincoln's POV)
4 Days After the Concert
As I lay on my bed reading, my mind drifted back to everything that had happened.
"After the concert, my sisters' friends started asking how I even knew the Hex Girls—and if I was dating them. Thorn said she meant to kiss my cheek and that it was an accident, and… everything else just kind of happened," I thought. "Although, I can't really remember what happened after she kissed me. And when I asked, no one would tell me. I had to explain everything to my sisters, and Luna even called asking for details."
The Hex Girls only had two more days before they had to leave. It hurt that I had to say goodbye so soon, but I decided to make the most of it. Even after they left, we've still kept in touch.
As I was deep in thought, Luna, Luan, and Leni barged into my room.
"Out, bro—we need this room," Luna said.
I frowned. They were starting that stupid "Sister Fight Protocol" again. It's completely unfair. They stop me from using the bathroom, the kitchen, the TV—and they keep taking my sheets and even my room. I try to stay out of it because they say it's a "sister thing" and I need to butt out—all over a dress.
Well, if they didn't want my help, then fine. I want to see their idea crash and burn.
"Seriously, this is the third time already, and it's been five minutes," I told her.
"Well, we need it, so make like a tree and leaf—haha, get it?" Luan joked. We all groaned. "But seriously, leave."
I was getting ticked off at how they acted like this was okay—but then I got an idea.
"Fine, then. I'll leave," I said as I started packing my stuff. The three of them gave me confused looks.
"Uhh, what are you doing, Linky?" Leni asked.
"Leaving—like you wanted," I replied.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa—slow your roll," Luna said, raising her hands in a stopping motion. "We meant out of the room, not out of the house."
"Yeah, well, I'm leaving the house," I said simply, walking toward the door—but Luna blocked me.
"Not happening," she told me.
I wasn't having it. I picked her up with one hand and tossed her onto the bed. As I made my way down the stairs, Lori bumped into Leni and immediately got angry.
"YOU!" Lori shouted.
"Hey, I thought you guys were keeping her in Lincoln's room. What happened?" Lynn asked in annoyance.
"We've got bigger problems," Luan said in a rare serious tone.
"Like what?" Lola asked.
"Lincoln's leaving," Luna said.
"WHAT?!" they all screamed, running to stop me.
As I reached the door, Lori grabbed my shoulder and asked, "Where do you think you're going?"
"Uh… out," I replied.
"And why are you leaving?" she pressed.
"Because you all are being idiots," I said. They looked offended, but before they could start ranting, I held up my hand to stop them.
"The Sister Fight Protocol is completely pointless and useless—and I'm surprised you, Lisa, were the one who thought up this idiotic idea," I said, pointing at Lisa, who crossed her arms and looked offended.
"The protocol works just fine, for your information," Lisa insisted.
"There are better ways to handle a stupid argument over a stupid dress," I told her as the others looked insulted.
"Like what?" Lynn asked sarcastically.
"If I told you now, you still wouldn't listen," I answered. "But if I give you time to continue the protocol, then when I come back, you'll all be embarrassed about how dumb this whole thing was."
"So… you're not running away?" Leni asked.
"When did I say that?" I said, knowing full well they'd take my packing as running away.
"I'll be gone for a week. And if things aren't resolved by the time I get back, I'll leave for another week," I told them. "I already texted Mom and Dad, and they said I could—as long as I message them once a day."
"Why text them when they're in their room?" Lana asked.
"They're using a bucket in an enclosed room as a bathroom," I deadpanned. "It's disgusting—starting to smell as bad as the town's sewage plant."
They all shuffled a little farther away from Mom and Dad's door… except for Lana, who took a big whiff.
"He's right. I can smell it from here," Lana said as the others turned slightly green.
"Yeah, so—bye," I said, turning to leave.
"Wait—where exactly are you going?" Lucy asked, scaring all of our sisters. "Didn't you say most of your friends are busy, and Clyde's visiting his aunt with his dads? So where will you go?"
"Yeah, tell us," Lola and Lana said in unison as the others agreed I had to say something.
But I just smirked—deciding to throw their words back in their face.
"Well, I would tell you… but it's a 'brother thing.' So… 'butt out,'" I said as I walked out the door.
(No POV)
The Loud sisters stood in silence, still staring at the front door in shock after Lincoln had thrown their own words right back at them.
"Man, what a baby, am I right?" Lynn muttered, arms crossed.
"I bet that twerp's just doing this because we're using his room and stuff," Lori added, crossing her arms too. "And here I thought he was starting to mature."
"Well, he has to learn that as the majority, our needs outweigh his," Lola said smugly. "I bet by tomorrow, he'll come crawling back."
"I'll take you up on that bet," Luan chimed in.
"I say give it an hour," Lynn added with a scoff. "That wuss will be back in no time."
As the older girls continued placing bets on how soon Lincoln would return, Lucy stood quietly, feeling a knot of guilt twist in her chest. Once again, she had sided with her sisters when it came to the protocol, and once again, she hadn't stood up for her brother—even when he'd clearly needed someone to.
Lana noticed Lucy's fixed gaze and stepped beside her. Following her line of sight, she watched their sisters bickering and betting, laughing about Lincoln like he didn't matter. As she observed them, Lana began to feel a tightness in her stomach.
"…Are we always like that when we talk about Lincoln? No… we can't be… right?" Lana asked herself quietly, not realizing Lucy was now staring at her.
It looks like I'm not the only one noticing how we behave toward Lincoln, Lucy thought. Enough is enough. I need to ask someone who really knows us, who's always been watching, and won't be biased.
She paused, thinking carefully.
And I know exactly who to ask.
(Lincoln's POV)
After leaving the house, I knew I needed some much-needed peace. So, I decided to leave Royal Woods altogether.
A few days ago, I'd taken most of the money I got from Gold and invested it into some company stocks. Since then, I've managed to gain a steady stream of income that I continue to reinvest.
With that money, I bought a black 550HP Mazda RX-7, complete with an orange X-shaped pattern on the hubcaps that spans across the sides. I even spent time modifying it to suit my taste—but until now, I never had a real chance to take it out for a spin.
Making sure no one was around, I raised my hand and summoned the car from my .
Sliding into the driver's seat, I turned the key—and the engine roared to life with a powerful growl. A surge of excitement hit me as I pressed the gas and sped off, leaving Royal Woods behind.
⸻
A few hours later
I'm now two states away from Royal Woods. I grabbed a map from a gas station earlier, and according to it, I'm approaching a small town. Seemed like a good enough place to stop for the week.
As I reached the outskirts of the town, I spotted an empty patch of land and decided to make camp there. I parked my car and pulled out two silver boxes and one green one.
The instructions said I needed to chant something to activate them, but after reading it over… I figured I'd try without saying anything.
I put the two silver boxes together and focused—but nothing happened.
"Ugh," I groaned. "Guess I have to say it."
I took a breath and chanted:
As I combined the boxes, they glowed with white light. A small building formed, surrounded by a thick, sturdy wall. It looked solid enough, but this was my one week of freedom from my sisters—I wasn't going to waste it.
So, I pulled out a small, pale-colored box with a pink flower pattern on it. I sighed before saying the next chant:
The box in my hand glowed, then fused with the building—transforming it into a large hot spring resort surrounded by cherry blossom trees.
This would be my home for the week.
I removed the sign out front so no one would think it was open for business, and the place came with enchanted documents to handle any legal trouble. So, I was in the clear.
After taking a walk around the resort, I decided to take a bath and head straight to bed. No need for dinner—I already stopped at a McDonald's on the way here.
Carbon dioxide bath, vase bath, electric bath, salt sauna, stone sauna, herbal bath… and my favorite: the outdoor bath.
Not only are they relaxing, but they're also enchanted to stay clean and run themselves—no maintenance required.
This place is awesome… but I really wish I didn't have to say those chants. They make me sound like some kind of edge lord.
Sinking into the outdoor bath, I let out a content sigh.
"Maybe I should check out the town tomorrow," I thought. "Could be fun."
(No POV)
It was late at night in the Loud House, and everyone was already in bed—everyone except Lucy, who was in the attic, holding a tattered and broken book, surrounded by lit candles.
"Oh great-grandma Harriet, please heed my summon," Lucy whispered.
All the candle flames extinguished at once, and a pale ghostly figure appeared before her, looking almost identical to Lucy.
"Hello, Lucy dear. I'm so glad to see you again," Harriet said warmly.
"I'm glad to see you too, great-grandma, but I need to ask you something," Lucy replied.
"You want to know if the way you girls treat your brother is how it should be," Harriet said knowingly. Lucy nodded silently.
"Well, I've always been disappointed in how you all treat Lincoln," Harriet said with a frown, causing Lucy to look down in shame. "He's done so much for all of you that he barely has time to be a real kid."
"What do you mean?" Lucy asked, confused about what her great-grandmother meant by 'be a real kid.'
"The other spirits around the house have noticed it too. For so long, he's acted more like a parent or a servant. Like when he scolded Lori for sabotaging Leni's driving test… or when you girls used to make him carry all your things when you went shopping."
"B-but he stopped doing those things for us after his growth spurt," Lucy stammered, clearly embarrassed. Harriet flinched slightly, remembering that time.
"Yes… that," Harriet said softly, struggling to find the right words. "I do hope he's okay."
"Yeah… Lisa said it was painful to go through," Lucy informed her.
"It was more than painful, dear," Harriet began, her face filled with sadness. "It was torture."
(Flashback)
Harriet Loud wandered the house, as she often did in her ghostly form, making sure all was well. That night, she heard low groans and grunts coming from Lincoln's room.
Being respectful of his privacy—especially during this delicate time in his life—she was about to turn away, assuming it was something personal, when she sensed something… wrong.
As she got closer, she heard crying. Lincoln's voice. Begging for something to end.
Concerned for her great-grandson, Harriet entered the room. The sight that met her would haunt her for the rest of her afterlife.
Lincoln was on the floor. His skin was red and bubbling like boiling tar. As he tried to get up, deep lacerations tore across his body. Blood gushed freely as more wounds appeared—so deep Harriet could see his bones shatter and reform inside his flesh.
Even as a ghost, Harriet had once been a powerful witch. Yet, no matter how hard she tried to use her magic to heal him, the wounds returned immediately. Nothing worked.
All she could do was hold him, wrap her arms around him, and pray—beg—to every force in the universe to save him, as he pleaded for death.
She cried along with him.
After hours, Lincoln's body finally began to heal. The blood evaporated. The wounds closed. And as Harriet looked closer, she realized… Lincoln had changed. Drastically. But her magic told her he would survive.
Still terrified that it could happen again, she stayed with him, holding him close and softly singing a lullaby—just like she used to when he was a boy and she was still alive.
(Flashback Over)
Since that night, Harriet had kept a close eye on Lincoln. She was shocked to discover him using something that looked like magic… but it wasn't magic. She couldn't sense any when he used it.
Yet, she could feel the potential inside him. So much potential—it excited her.
"Do you think you could show me?" Lucy asked.
"Why would you want to see that?" Harriet asked.
"Because all I hear is how bad it was… but I don't understand it," Lucy answered honestly. "And if I can understand what he went through, maybe it'll help me see how much Lincoln keeps from us… how much pain he just shrugs off."
Harriet was silent for a moment before waving her hand. At the same time, Lucy's phone beeped.
"I've sent you a video from one of Luan's old cameras," Harriet explained. "I don't want you to watch it—it scares even me—but if you truly want to start understanding Lincoln's pain, then I can't stop you."
"Thank you, Great-Grandma Harriet," Lucy said quietly.
"You're welcome, dear. But promise me one thing," Harriet added. "When you watch the video… don't think that Lincoln doesn't trust you. Just know that he doesn't want any of you to worry."
As Harriet faded away, Lucy descended the attic stairs and headed into the bathroom, knowing no one would be awake to bother her.
But she wasn't alone. Someone had seen her leave the attic.
"…Hmm, strange," Lisa muttered, curiously following her older sister.
In the bathroom, Lucy sat on the edge of the tub and pressed play. At first, she thought she could handle it.
Then her face went pale—paler than usual—before turning green. She dropped her phone and vomited into the toilet.
Tears poured down her cheeks. She couldn't even make it through a quarter of the video. And she hadn't even paused it—so her brother's tortured screams continued playing, echoing through the bathroom.
She remembered how, once, they all came running when Lincoln stubbed his toe in the night… yet none of them had heard this.
It sickened her so much she vomited again.
Just then, Lisa entered the bathroom after hearing the retching and crying. She froze, startled—she'd never seen Lucy cry before.
Despite her age and intellect, Lisa was still a 4-year-old girl. And she loved her family deeply.
"Lucy, what's wrong?" Lisa asked, trying to comfort her.
But all she got in response were dry, raspy gasps and more tears.
Lisa noticed the phone on the floor and picked it up, watching part of the video. Her skin went pale too.
But before she could see more, Lucy snatched the phone and deleted the footage.
Face still pale, Lisa whispered, "Was that what I think it was?"
Lucy nodded silently.
"A-and… where did you get it from?" Lisa asked.
Thinking quickly, Lucy lied. "From one of Luan's old cameras."
Lisa didn't question it further. She turned to the toilet and threw up as well.
Now, it was Lucy's turn to comfort her.
They both sat there—traumatized, crying, shaken to the core.
They would've gladly scrapped the "Protocol" that very moment if it meant having Lincoln back home—to hug, to protect, to apologize to.
But he wasn't there.
And for the rest of the night, the goth and the genius stayed in that bathroom—haunted by what they had seen, and terrified about what Lincoln might still be hiding.