The police where there later that night, and Lincoln gave them the best description he could from his memory. Lynn hovered around the living room, listening in as well. Royal Woods was a pretty big city, and she knew a little kid getting beat up and having his bike stolen would be nothing but a blip on their radar for an hour, tops. Lincoln was in no shape to get his bike back, and she knew it. There was only one person who was capable of righting this wrong.

The police told the family they'd canvas the area, but Lynn doubted anything would turn up. However, she wasn't going to just rush headlong into vigilantism. After all, what had happened to her brother filled her with a blistering anger she had never experienced, but she had to believe that the police were at least going to perform their due diligence. After the police got what they needed, a team of paramedics arrived to more properly dress Lincoln's cuts and scrapes. Lynn sat on the arm of the couch while the medics checked her brother over. They shined a flashlight in his eyes and checked for concussions.

"It's a good thing you were wearing your helmet, champ," the medic said, beginning to pack away his tools "I don't think you've got a concussion, but if you start feeling sick, make sure you tell your parents so you can get to the hospital," Lincoln nodded, and the paramedic met his parents in the kitchen to give a few tips on helping him recover and a few over the counter medicines for the swelling and pain.

Lynn slid off the arm of the couch and next to her brother.

He managed a smile as the rest of the family began to gather again around the couch. Soon, Lynn and the rest of Lincoln's sisters found themselves in the same cocoon of warmth that had been minus Lynn only moments ago.

Lynn tilted her head against his shoulder. "Does it still hurt?" she whispered softly.

"It's not so bad anymore," he replied, "Thanks for coming out of the garage," he smiled. Even through his swollen eye and scratched up face, he still managed to maintain his sense of optimism. It burned her up all the more that someone could do this to him, and potentially escape justice.

'Just give the cops some time' she repeated in her head.

"Yeah, no problem, I just had to... uh... vent," she replied.

The Loud siblings were only allowed a few more minutes before their parents rushed him to bed.

Lincoln climbed the stairs with his father right behind him. The pounding in his head had settled, and now his bodily pain had been reduced to a dull throbbing. He had only a slight limp as his dad followed him into his room to help him get ready for bed.

Once Lincoln was tucked in, his father sat on the end of his bed.

"Son, I'm sorry this happened to you, and if you want, I can teach you a thing or two about self defense," he said, brushing his son's hair out of his eyes. "I boxed in college for a while in college, you know. Iron Lynn Loud, they called me."

Lincoln couldn't doubt that he wanted to get his revenge on those who'd wronged him. However, it would be weeks before he would be able train in any way. But it was even more than just revenge. How many other kids had this happened to? Who was it that was going to keep punks like that from attacking other children? What if this happened to Clyde? Or Ronnie Anne?

"Thanks Dad, I think I'd like that," Lincoln said as his father stood from his bed. His dad closed the door and left Lincoln alone with his thoughts. With nothing else to distract him, he couldn't help but relive his horrifying encounter when he closed his eyes. He could still see their faces clearly, and he knew he wouldn't be forgetting them any time soon.

Tomorrow was Sunday, so he could at least have a day to recover and reduce the swelling in his face before school. It took him a while, but he finally managed to fall into a fitful sleep.

/

Lynn watched her brother climb the steps to his room, followed closely by his Dad, leaving the rest of the sisters downstairs on the couch. "Now girls," Rita began. "I know we're all shocked and horrified about what happened to Lincoln, but I just want you girls to know that the police will catch who did this," she assured them. Some of the younger kids seemed worried, minus Lola, who was still swearing revenge on Lincoln's attackers.

While she was talking the talk, Lynn was already prepared to walk the walk. In the myriad of sports she had excelled at during one time or another, a few of them had been kickboxing, regular boxing, brazilian jiu-jitsu, and just a dash of Krav-Maga before she lost interest. She was more than prepared to hold her own against those bullies.

She yawned loudly before announcing her intentions to retire for the evening. She was sufficiently tired from her bout with the heavy bag, but she still felt a bit amped for some reason. She opened the door to her room and stepped inside. Lynn opened the top drawer of her dresser and found her red luchador mask.

'Can't fight crime without a mask, right?' she thought. In a rare moment of clarity, she realized what she had just thought. 'Fight crime? What are you, batman?' This was crazy. What was she going to do if the police didn't find them? Hunt them herself? She gripped the mask in her fist as she remembered her brother's battered features.

"Something the matter?" Lucy asked from the shadows. Having lived with the spookiest Loud for this long, she was very nearly immune to her popping up in unexpected places. Lucy also knew Lynn almost as well as she knew herself.

"You saw what happened to him," Lynn muttered, staring down at the mask.

"I did. I know what you're thinking," Lucy replied. "I understand how you're feeling, but if you're thinking of doing what I think you are, let me caution you."

Lynn turned around, and eyebrow raised at her gloomy sister, Lucy's feet dangling off the side of her bed in her pajamas.

"When Grizelda found Edward nearly beaten to death by the clan of werewolves and the council of nosferatu did nothing about it, she took it upon herself to avenge him. At first, she tracked down the werewolves that attacked him. Then, she had to track down the werewolves who ordered it. Before she knew it, she had completely forgotten why she was fighting, and could hardly remember what role her current victim had played in Edwards assault."

Lynn scoffed. She never understood why Lucy was into that mushy pseudo-romantic drivel. "I'm not fighting werewolves or whatever because my vampire boyfriend got his ass kicked. I'm going out to look for the jerks who beat up our brother... I mean, if the cops don't find them."

"Will it matter if the cops find them?" Lucy asked knowingly.

Lynn wrung the mask between her clenched fists as she gritted her teeth.

"Yes! It will!" Lynn barked. "I don't want to talk about this anymore." She put the mask away and changed into her pajamas. As she climbed into her bed, Lucy did the same before turning off the lamp.

"Lynn, just don't do anything you'll regret." Lucy pled one last time. "Violence only brings on more violence."

"Then how would you deal with them?" Lynn demanded.

Lucy remained silent for a moment.

"Have you tried a curse?"

"Goodnight, Lucy."

/

Lincoln awoke the next day painfully aware that the meds the EMT's had given him the night before had worn off. He sat up in bed, his young abs screaming at him in protest. The throbbing in his battered body seeming to intensify with every passing second. He gently set each foot on the ground, flinching as the ache in his legs increased as he settled his weight onto them. He kept his seat on the bed as he dreaded attempting to stand.

Before he stood up, Lisa burst into his room, Labcoat on and rubber gloves donned, holding a glowing green pill.

"Lisa!" Lincoln complained. "How many times do I have to ask you to knock?"

"Oh, my apologiesh Lincoln, I just thought by now you would have gotten tired of feeling like your bonesh were going throb out of your shkin."

Four-year-old or not, she knew how to deliver the bottom line up front. Lincoln had spent enough time in this house to know where his genius little sister was going with this.

"Well, you aren't wrong..." he admitted. "But please tell me whatever you tested that pill on before bringing it to me is still alive."

Lisa scoffed. "Of coursh it is! Shubject five is doing great! Resht in peace subjects one through four."

Reluctantly, Lincoln continued his line of questioning. "So how will this help me?"

"I'm glad you asked," Lisa smiled. How she loved explaining science to the laymen. "It will accelerate the healing process of your bones, bruised muscles and internal organs. If you take it today, you should be back to normal by Tuesday at the latest."

Lincoln took the glowing pill from her hand and looked it over. "And why didn't you give this to me yesterday?" he asked.

"While those 'so called' medical professionals were here?" Lisa folded her arms. "No doubt they would have stolen my pill for analysis to take back to their masters at big pharma!" Lisa adjusted her glasses. "Plus, I couldn't give it to you with Mother or Father watching. You know how they feel about me conducting human clinical trials on family members."

She had a point. Unnerving side effects aside, he was unsure he could even walk down the stairs to ask his mother for more pain medication. He reluctantly put the pill on his tongue and grabbed a bottle of water he kept on his nightstand in case of late night dry mouth and washed it down. It was bitter, but nothing unbearable as the rather large experimental drug slid down his throat.

"Now, if you feel any dizziness in the next few minutes, come see me immediately," Lisa said, recording the time he took the pill on a small notepad she produced from the pocket of her labcoat.

"Why?" Lincoln wondered aloud.

"Two words: hyper diarrhea."

He instantly regretted asking.

Almost instantly, the aches in his bones began to fade. The sharp, stabbing pain was now nothing more than a soft throb. While not completely healed, he could certainly appreciate the improvement. He cautiously stood off his bed. Instead of the shooting agony he expected, he found his legs to be holding out rather well.

"Wow, Lisa, I'm feeling better already!"

His younger sister scribbled a few more notes on her notepad. "As expected, Lincoln. Just keep me abreasht of any changes in your condition," she said over her shoulder as she left the room. Lincoln stretched his arms over his head as he yawned, and quickly found the limits of the miracle drug Lisa had given him.

Lincoln left his room and started down the hallway in his pajamas in search of breakfast. Each sister that caught sight of him asked how he slept, how he was feeling, and if they could get him anything. In his opinion, he felt the lavishing of attention a bit unnerving. Ordinarily his sisters would go on about their business when he walked by unless they needed something. But now, he felt like he was some delicate snowflake that needed to be babied, even though he was jumped by two older and stronger kids. There was a fine line between concern for one's well-being, and downright pity.

He declined their offers, but thanked them for asking as he descended the stairs. His father was already hard at work making breakfast for the family while his mother was busy feeding Lily. Both parents stopped what they were doing to inspect their son for the umpteenth time in the past 48 hours.

"How're you feeling Lincoln?" Rita asked, pausing the flight of a spoonful of Lily's strained carrots.

"Better," he replied, rubbing his still somewhat swollen eye as he pulled up a seat at the breakfast table.

"What can I get for ya champ?" His dad asked. "Gotta make sure you're fueled up and ready for a few rounds with 'Iron' Lynn Loud!"

Lincoln managed a smile before admitting cereal would be fine. His father poured him a bowl of his favorite zombie-themed breakfast.

"Seems like the swelling has gone down," Rita said, glancing sidelong at him while continuing to feed Lily. "But you may have that shiner for a week or two."

Lincoln nodded, his mouth already full as he munched on his cereal. Although he wasn't particularly up to the task of boxing with his father, he knew his dad was doing this for him, so he might as well give it a go.

After breakfast, Lincoln followed his dad into the garage where Lynn was already hard at work punishing the heavy bag.

"Hey sweetie, breakfast is ready if you're hungry," Lynn Sr. said. "Why don't you give Lincoln and I a turn in the garage, eh?"

Lynn dropped her fists and unwrapped her UFC-style gloves, sweat already beading on her forehead and staining her sports bra. "Sure Dad, thanks for breakfast," she walked past them and pretended like she was going to punch Lincoln in the arm. He flinched, preparing for a worse pain than normal due to his injuries. "Relax, I wouldn't hit my brother when he's down!" She leaned in and whispered quickly in his ear. "Dad knows some good pointers, but he's been out of the game for a while." She patted him softly on the shoulder and wished him luck as she went to stake her claim to the breakfast food their dad had whipped up.

Lynn came into the kitchen just in time to secure some scrambled eggs and a few strips of bacon. She sat down next to Lola, who immediately recoiled.

"Ew, Lynn! You're all sweaty and you smell terrible!"

Lynn didn't even look up from her food as she dressed up her eggs in sriracha sauce.

"Deal with it," she mumbled, scooping some eggs into her mouth.

Lola grunted indignantly. "Lana, switch seats with me, you don't mind sitting next to filthy things."

Lynn paid no attention to her two twin sisters. In fact, she had no intention of listening to any of the chaos going on around her. Today her goal was singular. She was gonna find those dirtbags who attacked her brother, and make them pay. She was after her pound of flesh, and by god she would have it.

She finished her food, threw her paper plate away and tossed her fork in the sink. Staying quiet, she slipped out of the kitchen without anyone noticing. She climbed the stairs to her room before Lucy called to her from behind. Lynn was possibly the only sibling that was fairly difficult for Lucy to scare with her usually 'pop out of nowhere' tactics. That was the price of being her roommate, she imagined.

"What is it, Luce?" Lynn asked.

"Mortals would consider this a beautiful day. I don't suppose you're going up to your room to stay inside it all day while the police do their jobs."

"We've already talked about this," Lynn replied dryly. "I'm going to the park."

Lynn went to her drawers and stuffed some clothes and her mask in a bag, along with her weapon of choice.

"Isn't it a bit warm for ice hockey?" Lucy asked, leaning against the doorframe to their room.

Lynn glared at her. They both knew what game the other was playing at. "It's for roller hockey."

"Then where are your skates?" She replied.

Lynn was tired of this game. "Keep your mouth shut, Lucy."

"Alright, but if you collect any teeth, I want them. I need them for a ritual."

Lynn rolled her eyes. If that's what it took to buy her silence. "Fine,"

Lucy moved out of the way as Lynn headed downstairs to her bike. She grabbed a few protein bars and some sports drink. She had a long day of snooping, and possibly ass-beating ahead of her, and she wanted to be ready for anything.

She hopped on her bike and pedaled towards the park. That was the first place she knew to look for a stolen bike. After all, Lincoln had her old bike, which was a cool bike any way you slice it. It was a thief magnet, and she kept it locked up tight whenever she wasn't riding it. A somewhat scrawny kid, late at night, alone on a cool bike was a prime target for those kinds of scum.

Lynn pulled up to the bike rack at Ketchum park and secured her bike. Although her current one hardly needed a lock, she would rather be safe than sorry. Resting her helmet on the handlebar, she set off towards the BMX side of the park. Whoever did this was stupid to have stolen a bike in the first place. Even stupider to have assaulted and robbed Lynn Loud's brother. But would they be stupid enough to bring their newly stolen bike to a public park?

That remained to be seen.

There were only a few kids here this early on a Sunday. She assumed some more of them would trickle in by the afternoon, but as luck would have it, the bike she was searching for wasn't there. Unwilling to sit and wait for other kids to show up, she began to wonder where scumbag teenagers might hang out on a Sunday. Unfortunately, Luna was probably playing guitar in the garage and wouldn't hear her phone ring even if Lynn called her to ask.

Thinking about it as she made her way back to her bike, she recalled a somewhat run-down gas station near the railroad tracks that she had sometimes noticed shady people hanging out at from the safety of Vanzilla while her Dad pumped gas.

She unlocked her bike and pedaled off towards the station. The closer she got, the faster her heart began to pump. Her grip on her handlebars tightened to the point where her fingertips began to tingle. She took a breath to calm herself as she felt the heat of her anger beginning to boil up inside her.

'Save it for the criminals,' she thought to herself as the station came into view. Flip's place was far and away nicer than this hole, and that was saying something. She parked her bike a few blocks away and chained it to a light pole. She borrowed a pirate's spyglass from Luan's prop trunk and peered through it at a few kids loitering behind the gas station, out of view of the cameras.

As she focused in, she noticed one of them attempting to do wheelies and such on a bike. Her old bike.

Lynn had to stop herself from snapping the spyglass in half before she noticed something about the three boys. She looked through her optics again and noticed they were all roughly Lincoln's size, maybe even only a year older, and none of them looked like they had the brawn to seriously hurt him.

'Something doesn't add up...' she thought to herself. 'Lincoln may be a wimpy nerd, but there's no way those dorks did that to him.'

She looked one more time, just for good measure. It was her old bike alright. She collapsed the spyglass and stuffed it in her backpack. Lynn removed her disguise and put it on over her clothes. Her ingenious get up was simply a hoodie and her luchador mask, but it would do for now.

She grabbed her hockey stick and dashed through the vacant lot beside the station, fully intending to take her targets by surprise. Lynn stopped by the fence, her heart in her throat. A heady mix of excitement, fear and rage mixed together inside her as she counted down in her head.

'3...2...1...go!'

She leapt over the fence, right in front the kid on the bike. Their conversation stopped as they just stared at her, before they started laughing.

Lynn slammed the hockey stick onto the pavement and the laughter stopped.

"Where'd you get the bike?" she growled. She had apparently tried to use her batman voice. Only then did she realize she probably should have come up with a hero voice to use, or borrow a voice changer from Luan. A thirteen year old girl only has so many scary-voice options.

"None of your business, weirdo," the boy began to try and pedal away before Lynn jammed her stick between the spokes.

"I'm only gonna ask you one more time," She grabbed the boy's arm and twisted it behind his back while reclaiming her hockey stick from the bike's spokes. The kids friends were probably nerds themselves, so she pretty much knew not to expect a fight from them. "Where. Did you get. The BIKE?" She asked again, twisting the kids arm tighter to accentuate the word 'bike'.

"Ow, ow!" he whined, tears forming in his eyes. "Okay, okay, I bought it off some teenagers in Fairmont park!"

Everyone in town knew Fairmont park was well on the bad side of town.

"What were you doing there? You make it a hobby to buy stolen bikes?" Lynn asked.

"What's it to you—OUCH!" Lynn twisted again. "My stepdad lives there!"

"Get off the bike," Lynn demanded. The boy carefully did as he was told. "This bike is stolen, I'm taking it back to the owner."

"Hey, I paid for that!" He protested once Lynn released his arm.

"Then you might want to get your money back," she replied before pedaling away from the back alley and onto the street.

Adrenaline was surging through her veins as she pedaled back to her house. She'd come back for her old bike after she delivered Lincoln his, but all she could think about was what a rush it was to right a small wrong in the world. A girl could get used to that. Plus, there was still the matter of the still at-large criminals. She'd get to them, but for now, she had a surprise for her little brother.

Lincoln learned a few lessons from his dad in the garage, mostly how to block, counter, and punch effectively. He wasn't packing a wallop by any means, especially is his condition.

"Well, I think we've earned ourselves a break. Let's see if we have any gatoraide in the fridge." Lincoln nodded as his Dad left the garage. He grabbed a towel and wiped the sweat from his face. It had gotten pretty hot in the garage as he opened the door. The hot air left the garage in a wave and Lincoln removed his sweat soaked shirt. He glanced sideways at an old mirror in the garage. His bruised body lacked almost any muscle definition. He had abs, but only because he had little to no body fat to speak of.

The jerks that roughed him up were easily twice his size. How was he ever going to be able to defend himself? Blocking could only get him so far, and any more than one person attacking him at a time would be nearly impossible.

It was only a little past one in the afternoon, and Lincoln was already feeling better. Lisa's chemical prowess was certainly on display, and not one sign of hyper-diarrhea.

"Hey Linc!"

He took a few steps out of the garage into the street.

"Look what I found!"

He couldn't believe his eyes. Lynn was riding up the street on his stolen bike!