AN: Here's the next chapter! Sorry it took me so long but right after I published the last chapter I had finals, and then, the Monday after school ended I started this apprenticeship thing downtown and my life has been tired and long and I've just been as lazy as I can. Anyway, here's the next chapter. A bit short, but not too horribly. Also, was anyone else terribly distraught to find out that there will not be a second season of The River? Maybe I'm a bit late with this news but still! This is horrible! Sigh... whatever... I've got work in a few hours so here ya go!
Dedication: To people?
Disclaimer: All characters from this story belong to ABC (although I'd be glad to adopt them now that you've abandoned them!)
If Lena were to describe Lincoln in one word, it would be clean. Organized. Neat. Sterile. She supposed his future profession began to shine through at an early age. Now, if Lincoln were to describe her… messy, unorganized, sloppy, rumpled, the list went on and on. And while their appearances or hygiene may not have shown this side, their shared room did.
Lincoln wanted everything to be in a specific order. Everything had a place when it came to him. The books went upright on their shelves, in alphabetical order no less, shoes went at the end of the bed in pairs, clothes went in their drawers or on hangers, and the bed was made everyday right after you got up. Lena on the other hand was a firm believer in organized chaos. Something's place was where it fell. She knew exactly where everything was, no matter what Lincoln may say or stressed about it.
At first, it seemed as though it would be impossible for the two to coexist on the same boat, let alone in the same room. The two were constantly bickering over their room. Lincoln demanded that everything be perfectly in place while Lena demanded that he allow her to be herself. The two argued for weeks over their room before Lena finally decided she couldn't deal with it, and instead of staying to deal with her friend and his cleanliness, the girl moved into the room just next to her father's.
It was the closest the two had really come to fighting and they remained in silence for several days, refusing to talk to each other. Instead, Lena spent her time with her father, messing with his cameras and trying to gain as much of her own footage as possible while leaving Lincoln to spend time with his father. While Lena actually enjoyed spending time with her cameraman father, Lincoln hated having to follow his dad from place to place, looking at things that were "magical" or whatever his father that it was. He had spent his entire life doing this and he was bored of it all. It bothered him that Lena was so happy after she had moved out of their room. She was supposed to be sad. She was supposed to be so sad that she came begging to him that he allow her to move back into their room. She was supposed to promise that she would get over her messy habits and that the room would remain as spotless as possible. And yet, Lena looked anything but sad. She may not have been talking to her best friend at the moment, but she was learning so much from just being with her father, and it was the first time in a while that the father and daughter duo received any time to themselves. Card games, accordion lessons, laughing over videos… It just wasn't fair… She should be upset that he had left, and since she wasn't, Lincoln was the one who found himself pouting day in and day out.
He wouldn't admit it, but he really was beginning to miss his messy friend. His room was even beginning to show this, as he began to let little things fall out of place. An upset cup of water was left in its resting spot, books remained on the desk, not even straightened, his clean clothes were kicked to a pile at the end of his bed and he didn't even bother to wipe his shoes off before walking across the room. It wasn't much, but it made him feel as though Lena was still in the room, that they were still bunking together.
The door to Lincoln's bedroom creaked open, a ray of light from the hallway entering the room in a yellow gold haze. Carefully, a blonde head peaked its way around the door. The shadows seemed to wrap themselves around the small, forlorn form that had entered Lincoln's room. The figured paused for a moment, shivering in the breezy air of the Magus before allowing the heat of the forest and river to wash over her in waves. Carefully, she made her way across the room, remembering how, when it came to Lincoln, everything was always in its-
"OUCH!" The blonde girl, gasped, leaning down to grab her stinging foot. "Son of a-"
"Lena?" The girl looked up, attempting to balance momentairly on her lone foot as she held her still stinging toes.
"Lincoln," she squeaked, her eyes wide and glistening as she continued to cltuch her aching foot. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake-" she broke off as her balance finally betrayed her. The blonde's arms flailed around a bit before she collapsed, falling back onto her butt at the same time that Lincoln flipped on the bedside lamp. The hearty glow of the light illuminated the girl sprawled across the unusually messy floor. "-you," Lena finished lamely, now rubbing her sore behind. She glared around her, glancing at the objects strewn across the room as she attempted to deduct which object was the offender. It took her a moment before she realized something, and she now turned to face the still bleary-eyed Lincoln.
"What happened here?" Lena inuired, aimlessly picking up a lone shoe and looking curiously at the sneaker. She looked up at Lincoln who was sitting up, rubbing his eyes. The normally spotless, sterile room was in disarray. Shoes and socks were thrown across the room, books were planted horizontally instead of upright and the papers on the desk were in no definitive order. It appeared as though Lena had never truly left the room, but in fact, all of the misplaced belongings were Lincoln's.
The boy yawned, looking at his friend who was still sitting in the middle of the unusual mess that was all Lincoln's. He made as though to respond to her question when he realized he had a question of his own to ask the blonde. Choosing to ignore her inquiries, his next words blurted from his mouth.
"What are you doing here, Lena?" Lincoln demanded suddenly, staring at Lena. The blonde girl opened and closed her mouth a few times while her fingers played aimlessly with the few hairs that had fallen out of her night-time braid and over her shoulder. She bit her lip, pulling tightly at her hair.
"I uh," she swallowed looking anywhere but at Lincoln for a few moments before the boy's stare became too much and she finally looked him in the eye, swallowing her pride. "I got scared," she admitted softly, her fingers now firmly wrapped in her blonde tresses. She looked at her friend with wide, fearful eyes, showing him just how frightened she was.
The two were silent for a moment. Lena looked determinedly at the rug, playing with a few oddly loose strings while Lincoln merely stared at his friend, his mind working as fast as it could in his sleepy stupor. He sighed, shaking his head whilst drawing Lena's attention to him. Almost reluctantly, he shifted over in his bed, raising the covers up. Lena looked at him, a hopeful light entering her eyes as she looked between the now empty space on the bed and her friend. He inhaled deeply, a small smile pulling at his lips as he jerked his head, gesturing for her to join him.
In a flash, Lena was off the floor, scurrying towards the warmth of the bed. She practically dived into the covers, pulling the blankets down around her, a look of contentness washing over her. The two friends lay there for a moment, before Lincoln reached across her to turn the light off. In a instant, the two were consumed by the darkness, the moon and stars from the porthole their own source of light. There was silence between them, the only noise being that of the water crashing agains the side of the ship and their breaths.
In, out. In, out.
"Lincoln?" Lena asked quietly, her voice barely a breath in the dark room. Beside her, Lincoln grunted showing that he had heard her in his weary state. "W-Will you sing to me?" There was another moment of silence before Lincoln's arms wrapped tightly around Lena, and she was pulled closer to him just as he began to sing softly in her ear.
"Row, row, row your boat…"
Lena moved back into Lincoln's room the next day. Their week long separation was never mentioned, and no one aboard the ship dared ask what had happened between the two that had caused them to forgive each other. All the adults knew was that the kids' room was neither a mess nor sterile room. It was a home.
AN: Probably nothing super fantastic, but at least it's something. Any suggestions from my readers on what to do next? Feel free to send me a message, and don't forget to review. I'd like to see what you thought of this chapter.