Author's Note: This fic takes place directly after the events of "The Loudest Yard," so go watch that episode if you haven't already!

A stony, uncomfortable silence has passed over Vanzilla as the Loud family was driving home from the ill-fated match between the Royal Woods Roosters and the Hazeltucky Hockers. Normally, this would be Lola and Lana's cue to start a fight, or Lisa's cue to start rambling about all the ways they could die on their way home, or Lynn's cue to start a rousing round of "Auto Attack", but none of the Loud sisters had the courage to say or do anything. All they could do was give the occasional sympathetic glance towards the thoroughly bruised and beaten Lincoln, who was glaring out the window with a contemptuous scowl on his face.

Unfortunately, as the matriarch of the house, Rita had an obligation to tend to her children, and thus had no choice but to break the silence.

"Lincoln, I know you're upset," she said. "But I hope you've learned a valuable lesson from this experience."

This just prompted Lincoln to cross his arms and slouch further into his seat. "Yeah, I've learned that I'm a chump who can't do anything right," he growled. "How's that for valuable?"

"Lincoln, I don't appreciate that attitude," said Lynn Sr.

"All right, then humor me," said Lincoln. "What lesson was I supposed to learn from this?"

"Well, that it always pays to be honest, and follow through with what you promise to do," said Rita.

"Are you kidding me?!" cried Lincoln. "Do you even remember what happened today after I came clean?"

"Lincoln..." began Rita, only for Lincoln to cut her off.

"I lost the game, I got booed off the field, and my team beat me up." He capped off his statement by punching the window, making an uncomfortably sharp rapping noise. "That's what I got for being honest."

"Well, this whole thing wouldn't have happened if you just exercised with us like we asked you to," chided Lynn Sr.

"And I would have if I had known that football was my only other choice!"

While all of this was going on, the ten Loud sisters could do little but squirm in their seats, look expectantly out the window and pray for the Loud House driveway to come into view.

"Look, I know I was dragging my feet when you tried to get me to exercise," Lincoln said, his expression softening. "And I'm sorry about that. But you didn't have to humiliate me for it!"

"Lincoln, sweetie, we weren't trying to humiliate you," said Rita.

"We weren't?" asked Lynn Sr., prompting a dope slap from his wife.

"We just wanted you to be healthier, that's all," said Rita.

"Getting pummeled into the ground isn't healthy," Lincoln grumbled, reassuming his grouchy disposition.

"I know, I know. But we thought-"

"You thought what?" snapped Lincoln. "That you could just throw me onto the field and I'd start wowing everyone, like Lynn always does? Well, I've got news for you; she's the one with the talent, not me. She's a hero, and I'm a zero."

And those were the last words that were spoken for the entire trip: the last ones spoken out loud, at least. Some of the Loud children could hear their parents whispering worriedly to each other as the drive went on. Other than that? Silence. At one point, Lynn tried to put her arm around Lincoln, but her touch caused him to flinch and shove her away- which did nothing to ease her worsening conscience.

How on Earth were they going to make this right?

At long last, the trip mercifully ended. Usually, there was a routine that every Loud sibling had to follow before entering the house- gather all their belongings, wipe their feet, close the car door behind them- but Lincoln didn't bother with any of that, and nobody seemed inclined to correct him. He just trudged up the stairs (leaving a trail of mud and grass in his wake), walked into his room, slammed the door behind him, and collapsed face-first onto his desk. He didn't even have the energy to clean himself up or tend to his wounds. All he wanted to do was sit there in his unlit room with his head down, moaning and feeling sorry for himself.

And that was exactly what he did, for a good thirty minutes, before he heard one of his sisters carefully creep open the door and let herself in. Even before she spoke, Lincoln was able to discern who it was from the scent of sweat and body spray drifting past his nose.

Oh, great. Lynn.

"Hey… buddy?" she called.

"Go away, Lynn," whined Lincoln. "I don't deserve to be seen with you."

Lynn let out an exasperated grunt. "Lincoln, come on," she said. "I know today really sucked, but it'll blow over. Give 'em a couple of weeks, and those meatheads on the football team won't even remember what happened today. They'll be too busy… I don't know, kicking each other in the nuts or whatever boys do for fun."

"I guess," said Lincoln.

"And I really, really want you to stop beating yourself up over this. I mean, it's just football. There's lots of other stuff that you're good at."

"Oh, yeah?" groaned Lincoln. "Like what?"

Lincoln expected Lynn to do a little hemming and hawing before coming up with an answer, but her response was almost immediate.

"Um, problem solving! Duh!" she said, giving Lincoln a few raps on the noggin. "Lincoln, you're the tightest problem solver I know. Even when you screw up, you always find a way to turn things around in, like, eleven minutes."

"Yeah, okay."

"I'm serious!" cried Lynn. "Like, who came up with a way to get Lori to stop hogging the bathroom?"

This prompted Lincoln to pick his head up off his desk and look her in the eye. "…me?"

"Yuh-huh," said Lynn. "I mean, it was pretty gross, but it worked. And who solved Sharon DeMonay's riddle before anyone else did?"

"Me," said Lincoln, getting out of his chair.

"And who figured out a way to teach Leni how to drive?"

"Me!" exclaimed Lincoln, slamming his fist into his palm.

"That's right." Lynn got up in Lincoln's face and started jabbing him in the chest with her finger. "So I don't want to hear any more of this, 'Wah, wah, woe is me, Lynn's better than me at everything' garbage, because you know damn well that I'm not. Capiche?"

"Capiche," declared Lincoln, trying to match her intensity.

Lynn stepped back, took a deep breath and let it out before continuing. "Okay, good. Time for part two."

"Part two?" asked Lincoln, raising an eyebrow at her.

"Yeah..." Lynn started scratching the back of her head as her gaze wandered away from Lincoln. "See, I kinda promised Mom and Dad that I'd talk to you about-"

"You're going to lecture me for not exercising, aren't you?"

"No!" cried Lynn, as her eyes snapped back towards Lincoln's. "I mean, technically, yes, but... okay, look. I know you're still angry at Mom and Dad for what they did, but fitness is important. They're not wrong about that."

"Easy for you to say!" said Lincoln. "You're the family's star athlete!"

"Lincoln…"

"Every time you pick up a sport, you go pro in a week! Of course exercise is fun for-"

"Lincoln!" snapped Lynn. With just a single word, she shut down Lincoln's rant in an instant. It was rare that she had to raise her voice to him, but when she did, she could stop him on a dime.

"First of all, that last part isn't even true," she said. "Did I ever tell you about the time I tried gymnastics? It was a nightmare. Every time I tried to dismount, I fell on my butt. I got laughed out of the gym."

"Oh, geez," muttered Lincoln, feeling a twinge of guilt for dragging that out of her.

"And second of all, exercise is... um..."

Lynn scratched her chin, racking her brain for the best way to word her argument. "Well, let me put it this way. Remember the time Luna tried to put together that family band for the talent show?"

"Yeah?"

"And remember how she kept telling us that music isn't about being the best?"

"What about it?"

"Lincoln, listen. Exercise is the same way."

Lincoln just gave her a deadpan look.

"I know, I know, that's kind of hard to believe after today, but nobody starts out great at sports. You just have to try your best and push yourself a little harder every day.

"In fact..." A smirk began to tug at Lynn's lips as she threw an arm around Lincoln's shoulder and pulled him close. "...there's something specific I had in mind. It's a workout routine that I think you'll really like."

"Does it involve getting tackled?"

"Nope."

"Does it involve looking at old people in spandex?"

"Definitely nope."

"Then I'll give it a shot," said Lincoln, returning her smile.

"Great!" said Lynn. "Meet me in the backyard tomorrow at three. And don't forget to stretch beforehand!"

And after a fist bump, the two of them parted ways. Soon afterwards, Lincoln plopped himself down on the bed and drifted into a long, healthy, contented nap. True, he was still pretty sore from the game, and the stench of Lynn's body odor lingered long after she left, but he still slept like a baby because none of that mattered to him. All that mattered was that his cool big sister was going to teach him how to get fit, and have fun doing it. Tomorrow couldn't come soon enough.

To be continued...