AN: Hey guys! I'll try to keep the author's note brief since I tend to ramble.

This is going to be a mystery fanfiction! I really love the mystery genre because it really gives the reader an opportunity to really think as they read and try to solve the mystery on their own. I decided I need a mystery fic. I wrote one mystery fanfic in 2015, it was a Glee one and it was terrible so I deleted it before I could finish. Hopefully that won't happen again.

When Lincoln finds a note on the floor that alludes to the fact that one of his sisters is depressed or suicidal, he begins an investigation to find out who wrote it to potentially save a life.

"Hey Lisa, do you think you can give me a lethal injection?"

Luan clipped Lisa's heels as the latter walked to the kitchen. Lincoln, who was sitting on the kitchen counter, raised his eyebrow at Luan's uncharacteristically morbid request as he scooped PB out of the jar with his booger-picking-finger. The comedian had gone through a torturous day at school from the vague details he had overheard. She wouldn't go into specifics when asked, but her mood had darkened quite a bit ever since she had come home from school.

After making her way to the fridge, Lisa faced the gloomy teen. "If you are currently being facetious, please inform me. I am usually unable to identify the difference, and often treat sarcasm literally," the genius opened up to the fridge, where she had been refrigerating her chemicals.

Luan gave her a nervous chuckle as she leaned against the wall, rubbing the back of her head, "It's just a joke. Why?" She then frowned, "Would you actually inject me if I had asked?"

Lisa tapped her chin with a green pen, as if she was actually considering it.

Luan crossed her arms, "Wow, that's cold."

"Oh poppycock," Lisa scoffed, "I'm messing with you," Lisa collected what she needed from the refrigerator and made her way out, "For a 'comedian,' you sure do lack the ability to identify a joke." The toddler went up the stairs without another word, leaving a forlorn Luan with her little brother.

Lincoln gave the comedian a look of concern, "You okay, Luan?"

Luan sighed, looking down at the flowers on her shoes, "Just some school drama."

Lincoln gave her a sympathetic frown, "I'm sorry. Whatever it is, you can talk to me about it."

Luan looked up, giving her brother a sheepish smile, "Thanks, Link, but I think I'll be okay. I'm just happy it's Friday," She cleared her throat, eager to change the subject, "Do we have any more pretzels?"

"Yeah, but you better not spill any! I just cleaned the kitchen floor!" He gestured towards the ground. It was true. On an average day at the Loud house, the Loud residents would have to walk over cheerios, spilt milk, broken glass, peanut butter, banana peels, and blood (fake) in order to even make it to the refrigerator. However, thanks to a little elbow grease and a tolerance to bad smells, Lincoln had successfully made the kitchen floor look spotless. And yet, no one seemed to notice his hard work unless he mentioned it. He knew that in a matter of time he would be knee deep in chips and pretzel wrappers all over again, but if it meant giving himself and his family comfort then it was completely wotrh it!

"Not bad," Luan whistled, "Your cleaning skills have swept me off my feet!" She gave a half-hearted chuckle as Lincoln reached into the cabinet and took out a bag of pretzels, tossing them to her. After a parting wave, the comedian exited the room.

Nearly seconds after leaving, Luna entered the kitchen.

"Hey, Luna! What's up?" Lincoln greeted.

Luna tossed him a forced smile, "H-Hey, little bro. The floor looks rockin," Lincoln noticed that the rock-fan's shoulders were slumped, her eyes darting side to side nervously as her trembling hands tried to open the fridge and grab a root beer. The eleven year old opened his mouth to ask what was wrong, but then it hit him like a ton of bricks. Luna hadn't revealed whether or not Sam had responded to her letter. And judging by the signs she was showing, Lincoln guessed she hadn't gotten a good response...

"How are you-" Before Lincoln could finish his question, Luna scurried away almost immediately, not nearly as chatty as Luan had been.

"Geez, Luan and Luna are both down in the dumps." Lincoln marveled out loud with a mouth full of peanut butter.

After a few more scoops, his attention was caught by the second oldest sibling in the family. Her eyes were wide, like a deer in headlights, scanning the entire room as if in search of something.

"Hey, Leni. Didn't see you there," He greeted, hoping she wasn't in a bad mood too.

Leni froze in her steps, her frail frame shaking like a chihuaha. As she gazed at Lincoln, her face paled like she had seen a ghost.

"What's the matter?" Lincoln asked, startled by Leni's eerie nature.

Leni faltered, her mouth opening, then closing. Her eyes darted all over the room, her eyebrows scrunched up like she was trying to recollect her train of thought. Finally, she said, "I-I don't remember." The fashionista exhaled deeply as if she had just come up for air after being submerged. Scratching the back of her neck, she tilted her head, "I seriously don't remember." Leni put a finger to her chin, as if trying to think. Finally, she gave up and shrugged, "Bye, Lincoln! Also, since when did our kitchen have a floor?" The blonde skipped out of the room, impervious to the look Lincoln was giving her.

"I really hope I have no more visitors. Everyone's acting so weird..."

Against Lincoln's wishes, the twins made their way into the kitchen in the midst of an argument as usual. Lana paused her quarrel as she looked at the ground, "Aw, man. Lincoln, you cleaned the floors? No fair, it was way more fun before!"

At the sight of her brother, Lola cringed in disgust, "Ewww, Lincoln! Stop sticking your nasty fingers in our family peanut butter!"

Lana scoffed at her twin, "Oh, big deal. I do that all the time!"

Now it was Lincoln's turn to grimace. The thought of Lana's hands in the peanut butter made his stomach churn. Everyone knew the older twin wasn't a fan of hygiene. He placed the peanut butter on the counter, pushing it away from him in distaste.

"I'll take that!" Lana grabbed the PB and stuck her fist in it.

Lola rolled her eyes, "It's so hard being classy in a family full of pigs!" She stuck her chin up, grabbing a strawberry smoothie from the fridge and exiting with her other half, not bothering to even close the door.

Fortunately for them, Lynn and Lucy had walked their way into the kitchen. Lynn karate kicked the fridge door shut, scanning the counters frantically. "WHO TOOK THE JAR OF PEANUT BUTTER?" She asked, grinding her teeth as she marched into the living room to find the culprit. Lucy sighed, her book of poems underneath her arm. She reopened the fridge, pulling out a plastic container full of fake blood, and closing it.

"Hey, Lucy." Lincoln greeted.

Lucy grunted in response, before turning to walk away.

Lincoln shrugged and hopped off the kitchen counter, figuring it was about time he got a drink. He opened up the fridge, scanning the shelves for something to cure his thirst. As he made his way to the shelves on the door, he saw something peculiar on the floor.

"That's odd," He thought out loud, "I just cleaned this floor a few minutes ago," he sighed, "One of my sisters probably dropped it when they came in here."

He bent down to throw it away, when he noticed a few sentences were scribbled on to the paper, too small for Lincoln to read standing up. His curiosity now had a magnetic attraction to the note, and he reached down to grab it. Expecting it to be a reminder or one of Luan's jokes, Lincoln began to read what it said:

'I'm so tired.

Everything is falling apart, and I feel so helpless.

I'm tired of it.

I'm tired of being alive.

I'm tired of everything.'

A pit formed in Lincoln's stomach that felt like it was eating him alive from the inside. From Lori to Lily, every Loud child had spent their lives in the midst of chaos. No day was ordinary, every waking moment came with excitement and catastrophe. It may have been difficult, not everyone was meant to live in a full house. But never had it ever crossed Lincoln's mind that someone in this household was unhappy. Even Lucy, who had a gloomy exterior, was thought to have loved her life by her older brother. So as he read this note, realization hit him like a truck. One of his sisters had dropped this. Maybe it was an accident. Maybe it was on purpose as a cry for help. Either way, Lincoln knew exactly what he had to do.

"SENIOR SIBLING MEETING!" Lincoln called.

Almost immediately, Lynn somersaulted into the room.

Luna poked her head into the kitchen as well, "You're not qualified to call a senior sibling meeting," Luna informed him.

'Senior Sibling Meetings' were siblings meetings that excluded everyone under Lynn's age. The meetings were usually used by the five oldest to discuss important issues not suitable for anyone younger. Lincoln would've given anything in the world to join the Senior Sibling Meetings, but whenever he requested an invitation they laughed at him. But the more Lincoln was pushed away, the more he craved becoming a member.

"Yeah, we're exclusive," Lynn folded her arms, "No shrimps allowed."

"Well, it's an emergency, and I don't think anyone younger than me will understand." Lincoln frantically countered, "It's urgent! So please please please hurry up!"

Luna and Lynn exchanged a look, before Lynn finally sighed. "Fine. But I'm gonna warn you, Lori will not be happy."

Leni popped her head in, "Ooh, Lincoln's part of our club now? I don't know if he could handle our...you know...topics."

"Or my jokes," Luan emerged from behind Leni.

"Whatever," Lynn scoffed, "Let's just go up to the Queen of Mean's room and hope she doesn't bite our heads off."

Lincoln neatly folded the note and placed it in his pocket as the group made their way up the stairs. As they made their journey, knots formed in Lincoln's stomach. Was he an oblivious brother? The middle child usually thought of himself as very observant. He could read his sisters like a book and knew them like the back of his hand. Well, at least he thought he did. Lincoln took a deep breath, the least he could do was find out who wrote the note in order to make up for his aloofness. When they had reached the eldest's room, Lynn banged her fists on her door. "SENIOR SIBLING MEETING!" she informed Lori.

Lori opened up, eager to get to the chase "Make it quick, I'm going out with Bobby later." One by one four of her younger sisters walked in.

"You're going out? Don't you have a cross country meet to go to?" Luan asked.

"Don't you have a puppet to shove your hand up?" Lori retorted.

Luan raised her hands up as if to surrender, before making her way to Leni's bed.

Lincoln, who was last to enter, was stopped immediately in his tracks, "Lincoln, get out," Lori snapped, "For the millionth time, you're not a part of-"

"Let him in," Lynn said, "He was the one that called the Senior Sibling Meeting in the first place."

Lori raised an eyebrow in disbelief, "He's too young-"

"He said it was important," Luan interrupted, "I think we should let him talk," She gave Lincoln a soft smile. Lincoln returned it.

Lori's shoulders slumped, as if it pained her to say it, "Fine. Take it away Lincoln." She walked over to her bed and sat down beside Lynn. Leni sat on her own bed, accompanied by Luna and Luan.

Lincoln stood in the center, his brain faltering as he tried to find the best way to introduce the subject. Whenever he had anything to say at sibling meetings, he usually planned everything out ahead of time. Lincoln wished he had time to create a slideshow on the matter, but he called the meeting so suddenly. He was going to have to wing it, "So, I've gathered you all today because-"

"Oh my god, do you want puberty advice?" Lynn cut him off, laughing, "You're what, eleven? I'm pretty sure that's when puberty starts."

Lincoln rolled his eyes, "No, Lynn. Also, I'd appreciate it if you didn't interrupt me-"

"So, what part of your body is changing? Is your voice cracking?" Lynn disobeyed her brother's request, "Or is hair growing on your armpits? Pimples? Did you find hair on your-"

Lincoln's face flushed. "Guys!" He stomped his foot, gaining the full attention of his peers, "I'm not here to discuss my body."

"Then why are you reaching out to us?" Luna inquired.

Lincoln looked down at his pants pocket, seeing the dreaded note peaking out by the corner. His thoughts wrestled with themselves, conflicted on what to say. Should he drop a bomb on them like this? Was that fair? He exhaled, deciding to rip off the band aid right away, "I'm here to discuss a note a found in the kitchen, dropped by one of you." He pulled it out of his pocket, unfolded it, and read aloud:

"'I'm so tired. Everything is falling apart, and I feel so helpless. I'm tired of it. I'm tired of being alive. I'm tired of everything.'"

Leni gasped like she had just been stabbed, her eyes bulging out of her head. Wincing, everyone's eyes turned to her in concern. Leni's cheeks turned red and she buried her face in her knees.

"We have a sister that's clearly crying for help. We have to do something about it," Lincoln stated, "'I'm tired of living.' That's a huge red flag! What if she's really hurting? What if she tries to kill herself? We have to do something before it's too late!" He waited for a chorus of gasps. He even expected somebody to faint. Nothing.

After a few moments of silence, Luna was the first to speak, "What makes you think it was one of us?"

Lincoln was a little irked at how unfazed she was about the situation, but answered her question anyways, "I cleaned the entire kitchen floor, scrubbed it till it SHINED! I know for a fact that there was nothing on there when I was done. So, when I gave myself peanut butter as an award, every single one of my sisters came in, expect for Lori and Lily. And once everyone left, I find this note!" He held up the piece of paper, "Which means one of the suspects dropped it while they were in the kitchen minutes ago. Obviously this is a HUGE deal, and I suggest-"

Lynn blew a raspberry, which turned into an enormous fit of laughter. All eyes were on the athele, either with expressions of confusion or annoyance.

"Care to tell me what's so funny?" Lincoln asked, folding his arms.

Lynn wiped a joyful tear from under her eye, choking back her laughter, "Oh please, Mr. Dramatic! Obviously Lucy just lost a page in her dreary emo notebook," She cackled once more, holding a fist to her mouth in an attempt to stifle her giggles, "She's never been serious about that kind of stuff. She probably just meant she didn't want to 'be alive' anymore because she wanted to be an undead vampire."

Lincoln frowned as he absorbed Lynn's theory. At first he was mortified. Of course this was Lucy's, the eight year old was always saying morbid things. His cheeks flushed as he realized he called this meeting for nothing, and Lynn's hysteric laughter was not helping to ease his embarrassment. Not only that, he called a senior sibling meeting for nothing but a wild goose chase. He had been waiting patiently to finally be old enough to be a member of the seniors, and this probably cost him his permanent spot. They'd never take him seriously ever again...

Then, his thoughts wandered to Lucy. Sure, she often said eerie things she didn't mean, but that did not mean she didn't need help. Lucy could still be feeling hopeless, and as her big brother he was partially responsible for protecting her.

"Sure, it probably is Lucy's," Lincoln said, "But I think we should still be concerned about her. I'm going to go check on her. If it's serious, I'm not going to stand idly by."

"Yeah, tell her to stop being so dramatic about everything," Lynn pulled herself upwards and walked towards Lori and Leni's doorknob, "I care about Lucy, and if she was feeling suicidal I wouldn't hesitate to help. But I know for a fact that her note is a bluff." She exited the room with a huff.

Lincoln sighed, "Meeting adjourned. I'm gonna go talk to Lucy, just in case," He used the hand the note was in to wave at his sisters, before following Lynn out the door. Luna and Luan clipped his heels, each going in different directions after stepping out of Lori and Leni's room.

"I didn't write this." Lucy sat at the edge of her bed, reading over the dreaded note in her hand.

"Lucy, you don't have to be embarrassed," Lincoln put a hand on her shoulder, trying to ignore the fact he was drowning in powerful black paint fumes, "This is a safe space. I can help you," The eleven year old gave her a soft smile. The thing was, he needed Lucy to confess. If she was being honest about not writing the note, it meant one of his sisters was...he couldn't even let that possibility roam his thoughts. Besides, that would be just a worst case scenario. Worst case scenarios hardly ever took place.

Though Lincoln couldn't see it, the goth rolled her eyes. Sure, it didn't come as a surprise that people assumed she was suicidal, she might have even been asking for it. However, she figured Lincoln knew her better than that. She loved her family, and just because she loved darkness too didn't mean she was eager to end her own life. "What do you notice about this note?" Lucy handed it back to him, waiting for Lincoln to re-read it and give him an answer. She took his silence as confusion, and answered "It's written in green ink. The only pens I have ever touched are in black or red ink."

A wave of nausea washed over Lincoln as he sank into Lucy's mattress. He tightened his grip on the note, wrinkling it in the process. Though it was hard to tell, Lucy gave him a sympathetic frown. She almost wished she had written it to ease Lincoln's nerves, and she almost said she did. However, her doing so wouldn't change the fact that someone in the house was feeling helpless, and would just draw attention away from them.

Lincoln's throat tightened, his mind torturing him with images of any of his sisters trying to...ugh. He couldn't stand the idea! "Luce? Do you have any suspicions as to who could've written this?" Lincoln inquired. He handed her the dreaded note, giving her a chance to look at potential clues.

Lucy skimmed the green writing, her brain scrolling through every possible name. "Maybe Lola. She's very dramatic."

If it weren't for the current situation, Lincoln would've laughed in her face. "Lola? Lucy, she's six. And the girl has quite an ego on her, she's too into herself to take her own life."

"I'm not saying she is suicidal. But she is dramatic. She might've written it as a 'boo hoo! I lost a beauty pageant, woe is me!' type of thing."

Lincoln scoffed, "She wouldn't threaten to commit suicide about that."

"Look at the note Lincoln," Lucy held it up to him, "It doesn't say anything about suicide. Whoever wrote this claims they're tired of life. Yes, while that is a possibility of being suicidal, it doesn't have to mean that it is. It can mean something completely different."

Lincoln opened his mouth to protest, but faltered when Lucy's words soaked in. It did make sense, in a way. And Lola was pretty dramatic. Just last week, she threatened to scoop out Lynn's eyes with a spoon for putting an empty carton of milk back in the fridge. She also threatened to run away more times than he could count, though she never went through with it.

"Thanks, Luce. I think I found my first suspect."