Chapter Text
Chapter 1
Poor little Lincoln Loud.
Not even five years old and blind as a bat.
The boy currently lay in a hospital bed, sedated and with gauze pads securely fastened to his face. For a little insight into the situation, he had been sitting on the floor of his family's living room, cutting red abominations vaguely resembling hearts out of construction paper to give to his sisters and parents on Valentine's Day. The scissors he was using weren't safety scissors, but his mother trusted him to work unsupervised for only a minute while she got a bottle of milk for baby Lucy. That brief period was a mistake she paid for dearly.
Lincoln's slightly older sister Lynn came up to him wanting to play tag, so Lincoln took off running with the scissors still in his hands, his small arms stretched out in front of him. He tripped on Lucy's skull-shaped rattle, and you can probably guess what happened from there.
Hearing Lincoln's shrill scream of pain, Rita Loud saw the scene before her, called her father to tell him to watch the kids, then called an ambulance for her son. The emergency surgery replaced most of the fluid that escaped through the puncture wounds, but unfortunately, his vision would be permanently impaired. Now Rita sat by his bedside, tenderly stroking the back of one of his tiny hands. She only looked up when her husband, Lynn Loud Sr., burst into the room.
"I came as fast as I could! How is he?" the man panted. Rita was about to reply when the male surgeon came in behind Lynn Sr.
"Okay, I have two pieces of good news and one piece of bad news. The good news is that Lincoln will be just fine. We just need to keep him sedated until his eyes are mostly healed, otherwise he won't be able to handle the pain. The bad news is that his eyes will never fully heal; he'll be totally blind for the rest of his life. The other good news is that this is the age where children are the most adaptable. He should be able to adjust well to not having his vision," the doctor explained to the couple.
"How long does he need to stay under?" Rita asked in a voice that was hoarse from crying.
"Only a few days, a week at the longest. He'll be closely monitored to make sure the sedatives don't have any adverse effects," the doctor assured her. He told the couple a few other things regarding Lincoln's condition, then left them to discuss things among themselves.
"This is all my fault, Lynn. I thought I could leave him alone for just a minute. I was only out of the room for thirty seconds," Rita sobbed, prompting her husband to wrap his arms around her.
"Honey, this isn't your fault! Okay, it's kinda your fault, but don't beat yourself up over it! You heard what the doctor said, children are very adaptable at this age. Lincoln will be fine. We'll get through this," he told her, placing tender kisses on her forehead and cheeks.
"But how are we gonna pay the bill? Money's tight enough as it is," Rita pointed out.
"I'll start working overtime. I'll get a second job if I have to! Anything to provide for my family," Lynn said.
...
It was late at night when the couple got home. Rita's father, Albert, was sitting in the armchair reading Luis L'Amour's Sackett's Land, a pair of rectangular reading glasses perched just above his dense silver mustache. The yellowed paperback book almost looked too small for his ham-like hands, and the only light on in the house was the lamp he was reading by. He put down the novel and stood up when he heard the front door open.
"Hey. How's the little tyke?" he asked.
"He'll be fine, Dad. He'll just be, you know, blind for the rest of his life," Rita choked out through yet another set of tears.
"Oh, sweet-pea, don't cry. Everything's gonna be alright," Albert said and embraced his daughter. He stroked her back while she cried into his shoulder. After she calmed down, Albert told the couple what he'd been planning. "Now then, here's how I figure things. I'm gonna come out of retirement to help both of you pay the hospital bill."
"But Dad-"
"No buts, let me finish! If it's alright with you, I'm also gonna move in with you. I'll make my bedroom in your basem*nt, I'll chip in for rent, and I'll help around the house. It was getting stuffy in that old folks' home, anyway. Furthermore, I have a friend from the Navy who got blinded by shrapnel, so I can use what I remember from those times to help Lincoln get around. Just think about it. You don't have to answer right now; just know that I put my two cents in." Albert kissed Rita's forehead and shook Lynn's hand, then left so that they could get some sleep.
In the morning, Lynn and Rita discussed Albert's idea.
"I hate to say it, honey, but your dad has a point. We can't expect Lori to keep watching everyone all the time when we're not around, and hiring a sitter's gonna get expensive fast," said Lynn.
"But I don't want the workforce to overwhelm him. After twenty-eight years in the Navy, Dad deserves to retire," Rita argued. Lynn smirked.
"I think it's safe to say that your dad is the last person we should expect to get overwhelmed. He did put up with an entire squad's bellyaching over a lack of provisions, after all," he pointed out. Rita giggled and sighed.
"I guess you're right. Come on, let's go make the girls their breakfast."
...
Lori, Leni, Luna, Luan, and Lynn Jr. all woke up to the wonderful smell of their dad's waffles. Lori took the time to fetch Lucy from her crib while the other four rushed downstairs to the dining room. Once everyone had dug in and Lucy was eagerly sucking from her bottle, Rita decided to deliver the news about their brother.
"Now, girls, I know you were all worried about Lincoln..." Lori, Leni, and Luna, the three sisters that Lincoln spent the most time with, looked up with circles under their eyes from staying awake with the aforementioned worry. "...but the good news is, he'll be just fine. It'll be a few more days, but we can bring him home from the hospital. However," she cut them off before they could cheer in relief, "Things are gonna be a little different around here from now on. Your brother is still alive, but he's totally blind. I need you girls to help keep this floor spotless so that he doesn't trip and hurt himself again. You also need to divide his old chores amongst yourselves. If he asks you for help, drop what you're doing and help him. Is that clear?"
"Yes, Mom. We can do that," Lori said after sharing a look with Leni and Luna, who both nodded alongside her.
...
Five days went by, and Lincoln was ready to wake up. Now that the bandages over his eyes had been removed, his parents watched with bated breath as he squirmed a little and his eyes fluttered open.
"M-M-Mommy?" he asked blearily.
"I'm here, sweetie. Mommy's here," Rita whispered, gently pulling him into her arms. Lincoln, who was aware that his eyes were open, suddenly jolted.
"I-it's dark! I-I-I can't see you! Why is it so dark, Mommy?" The little boy began to sob and hyperventilate as tears streamed down both cheeks. Both parents mentally facepalmed for forgetting one crucial detail: like many children his age, Lincoln was afraid of the dark.
"Sweetie, calm down. It's okay," Rita cooed while continuing to cradle him, rocking him back and forth until he stopped crying. She held a tissue to his face, and he blew his nose. "Remember when you fell down, and the scissors poked your eyes?" Rita asked him, to which he nodded with a small whimper. "Well, those scissors hurt you very badly. They blinded you. When someone is blind, it means they can't see. The lights are on in the room right now, but because you're blind, you can't see anything. Does that make sense?"
"I-I think so. B-but how can I do anything if I can't see?" Lincoln asked, the look on his face an indication that he was about to start crying again.
"There are people here at the hospital who can help you with that. They're gonna teach you how to walk without bumping into things, and how to read using your fingers. And guess what? Your Pop-Pop is gonna come live with us, so he can help you with those things too. We all will. Me, Daddy, and all your sisters," Rita told him. "Now, are you ready to go home?"
"Yeah! I wanna go home and say hi to Pop-Pop! And Lori, and Leni, and Luna..." Lincoln listed off, much more upbeat than before. Lynn Sr. and the doctor signed the release papers, and Lincoln was officially discharged from the hospital, except for when his parents brought him back three days a week for physical therapy.
For the next six years, Lincoln continued to grow and learn more and more skills. His parents opted to homeschool him rather than have him face needs that could've gone unmet in a public school. Lucy and the girls born after her learned early on to put their toys away when they were done playing so that Lincoln wouldn't trip over them. Every cabinet, shelf, and drawer in the house, even the ones inside the fridge, had labels printed in Braille to give Lincoln more independence. Where ordinary kids would keep toys and posters in their bedrooms, Lincoln had a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf of audio books and novels in Braille. He made a friend in a boy from elsewhere in the neighborhood named Clyde.
Yet deep down, he felt that something was missing. His life had gotten monotonous and boring, stuck in routine, and strolls around the neighborhood with his special cane didn't help. He needed something to add some excitement. His opportunity arrived soon after his eleventh birthday. He walked into the living room, where he knew that both of his parents were sitting on the couch watching TV. He cleared his throat to get their attention.
"Mom, Dad...can I go to public school?"
