Work Text:
>"Lori~" Lincoln whines, struggling to carry the bundle of bags, "I'm tired. Can...huh, can we take a break?"
>"Lincoln, it's alright," she says, tapping on the list of her phone, "we're almost done. Just three or four more stores."
>"W-wait up!" Lincoln squeaks, the bags now dragging along the floor.
>Try as he might, the little eight-year old can't keep up.
>He's already having trouble seeing her through the thickening crowd.
>Soon, all he can see is her golden mane bobbing through the hats and hairlines.
>"Luh...L-Lori..." he wheezes, forcing his rubber legs to carry him.
>All of this stuff he's carrying is too much.
>If he just drops them, he could run and get Lori, then they could come back for the packages.
>...But someone could take something when he's looking for her.
>Lori would literally murder him if something happened to any of these gifts.
>That threat alone is all it takes for Lincoln to blink away the tears, suck hot air into his burning lungs, and force himself to keep walking.
>He's already so tired, each step sending a splinter of pain up his legs.
>They've been here since the mall opened; Store after store, dutifully following his sister like his mom told him to.
>But now, he can't even see...
>Wait.
>"L-Lori?" Lincoln calls, a tingle of fear already curling into his tummy.
>His panting growing more frantic, he whips his head around, scanning any open space the mingling mob allows.
>Where...
>Swallowing the sticky lump in his dry mouth, Lincoln finally lets go of the bags.
>Where is she?
>"Lori?!" He cries, panic starting to set in.
>He can't see her.
>She left him behind.
>"LORI!" He screams, dropping straight down onto his butt.
>Nobody looks down at the scared child.
>They simply part around him, like a lone boulder in a river, merging again and passing by him.
>He puts his hands over his ears.
>It's too loud.
>Lincoln struggles to think through the noise, both inside and out.
>Lori's gone.
>He doesn't know how to get home.
>He's too hot from all these clothes mom made him wear.
>What if he can't get home in time?
>Does that mean he lives here now?
>Does that mean he needs a job?
>"LINCOLN!"
>The sudden bellow of his name snaps him out of his spiral.
>Standing up, his eyes quickly scan for any sign of his sis-
>"Miss! Miss, Please get off the statue!"
>"Not now! I'm looking for my brother! Lincy!"
>Snapping his head towards the stairs, he can make out a blonde girl hanging off of a bronze swan.
>"Lemme go!" She snaps, yanking her arm away from a big guy in a brown shirt. "I literally lost my baby brother! LINCOLN!"
>Lincoln feels a surge of energy well inside of him.
>She said literally!
>It's her!
>"LORI!" He yells back, pushing through the forest of legs, struggling to make progress.
>Before stopping short of the food court.
>Then he turns around and waddles back to the little island of bags he left behind.
>"Lincoln?!" Lori shouts, hopping off the swan and beelining to where she heard him.
>Lincoln decides to sit down on the floor again, and simply wait for his sister to find him.
>"Get out of my-" Lori snaps, elbowing past a big woman.
>The two siblings lock eyes.
>"Lincy!" she yelps, rushing towards her boy.
>That was fast.
>Dropping to her knees, Lori slides that last two feet, sweeping up a giggling Lincoln in her arms.
>The giggling quickly devolves into giddy shrieking as the older girl smothers him in kisses.
>"Where did you go?!" she asks, pausing on every word to slam her mouth into his face.
>Pulverizing his head with savage, pecking headbutts.
>He can't even breathe through this assault.
>Why doesn't anyone help this poor boy?
>"Lori-bleh! L-Lori, I got tired!" Lincoln squeaks, twisting his head back and forth to vainly dodge his attacker's smooches.
>Thankfully, Lori quickly tires from the attempted fratricide.
>Panting almost as hard her beaten baby brother, she squeezes him one last time before letting go.
>But she can't crush the breath out of him.
>Lincoln gets to live.
>For now.
>Standing up, she helps her brother onto his feet, smoothing the glossy white strands sticking out of his hair.
>Bending down again, she takes his little hands into hers, and bumps her forehead into his.
>"I'm sorry, Lincy," she whispers, staring into his eyes, "I didn't think you'd be this tired."
>Sliding her head up, her nose curls off his noggin before her lips press against his warm skin.
>"I'm sorry I couldn't keep up," he sighs back, closing his eyes at the kiss.
>Pulling her head away, Lori glances around for a bench.
>Or a free seat in the food court.
>Somewhere to sit down, at least.
>Sadly, the mall is still packed, and as far as Lori can see through the sea of winter clothes and jackets and hats, every single chair and bench is taken.
>As she ponders what to do in this case, she glances down at the sudden pressure on her chest.
>Lincoln had stepped closer as she was looking, and now his little head is resting on her sternum.
>His eyes closed and his face relaxed, the little boy leans his face into her left boob, using it as a pillow as he catches his breath.
>Lori's still getting used to having these things, and if we're going to be perfectly honest, she really doesn't like them being touched.
>Heck, she almost punched out Leni on Thanksgiving, when she tripped and smashed her face into her chest.
>But now, seeing her little brother innocently use her growing assets as a cushion, just so he could rest his eyes.
>Her hand automatically rises up, her fingers gently curling into his soft hair.
>She looks up, scanning once more for somewhere the two could take a breather.
>...The wall.
>A few people have the same idea, leaning or sitting against it, so they could gather their breath.
>Of course.
>Looking down again, Lori leans down to kiss his soft, tickly hair.
>"Lincoln," she whispers, her hand sliding down from his hair to gently push at his shoulder.
>He doesn't answer at first, but after a second of shaking, he mumbles quietly in protest.
>"Come on," she continues, pushing him away so she could stand up.
>"Nnnnn~" Lincoln whines, trying to push back into her chest.
>"Up, mister. Pick up some of these bags and follow me," Lori pushes, leaning down to grab some of the packages.
>A few minutes of prodding and fussing and leading later, Lori leans her back heavily against the cold tiles, sighing deeply.
>If she were lucky, she would be sitting on the floor, with Lincoln plopped on her lap while they wait for mom and the others to pick them up.
>Sadly, the place is too packed for that.
>Honestly, it's a miracle they didn't get kicked out for squatting in the middle of the hall like that.
>But as Lori silently counts the blinking fluorescent lights for the fifth time, she feels Lincoln tighten his grip on her.
>She has one of her legs kicked up against the wall, to give him something to prop himself up on.
>Hugging her knee, his head lies against her thigh; the soft, cool jeans easing him into a nap.
>Her phone sits in his pocket, with the ear buds snaking up his little jacket and into his ears.
>Every now and again, she can pick up some of the classical music Luna used to like buzzing through them, over the din of the food court.
>Resting her hand on his hair, Lori lazily scritches her nails against his scalp.
>He occasionally shivers, tightening his hug on her leg before relaxing again.
>Lori knows Mom's going to yell at her for missing so much on the list she had.
>But as she glances over at the doors and spies Vanzilla pulling up, she knows it won't matter in the long run.
>Most of this gift-hunting was to get the kids out of her hair while she and dad clean up the post-Christmas mess.
>Stretching her arms, Lori shakes Lincoln awake before silently pointing towards the doors.
>She'll explain herself to mom, and she'll understand how tiring this was for Lincoln.
>Picking up the lion's share of bags and boxes, she lets her brother lead her to the exit.
>Like it or not, they'd both put little Lincoln before anything else.
>And as she hoists him into his little car seat, she settles down beside him.
>Lori closes her eyes, letting the bumping road lull her into a sense of tranquility.
>She distantly smiles when his head tilts over and bumps into her shoulder.
>It makes her happy.
