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Pat*eon : belamy20
The rundown house.
Lip wiped his face hard, too pissed to think straight, and started yelling again. "You fucked Mickey!! What the fuck kind of joke is that?"
Karen blinked, her voice turning apologetic. "It was only once. I was high that day… I don't even know how it happened…"
"I'm sorry. We should break up."
She hung up before Lip could say another word.
Beep… beep… beep…
Just like that? We're done??
Listening to the dial tone, Lip felt his head spin. He was completely stunned.
In that moment, the fact that Karen had fucked Mickey once became a tiny, meaningless detail compared to the reality that he was losing her.
Pain and grief slammed into him like a freight train. His heart clenched so hard it hurt.
One second. Two seconds.
It hurt too fucking much. Lip instinctively looked around the house, taking in the place he and Karen had started calling home…
Home, sweet home.
Was it really over this fast?
Lip couldn't picture life without Karen. He couldn't accept it. The second he snapped out of it, he called her right back.
In the apartment, Karen had expected the call. She grinned, waited a few seconds for effect, then answered—but didn't speak.
"Karen," Lip said, voice soft now, almost pleading, with a hint of tears in it. "Don't do this. I just want an explanation. If nothing's going on with you and Mickey anymore, I can pretend it never happened. Let's not break up…"
Karen listened quietly with a smile, then said, "Where are you? Let's talk in person."
Lip heard hope and sounded relieved. "I'm at our place… I made good money on this trip."
Karen didn't give a shit about the money anymore. She smiled. "I'll head over now."
"Good. I'll wait for you," Lip said, smiling back.
Karen hung up, lit a cigarette with a satisfied grin, and headed out to her car.
Once the engine was running, she thought for a second and decided to take a quick detour to White Castle. She'd grab some dinner to bring him.
Not because she wanted to be nice. More like… slap him in the face, then give him a candy.
2114 North Wallace.
Dexter found the phone numbers for Peg's other three sons, wrote them down, and told Carl, "Carl, you're a man now. It's on you to call your three uncles. Let them know if they want to come, they should show up tomorrow."
Carl liked the idea of being treated like an adult. He nodded right away. "Okay."
He made the calls one by one—Clayton, Jerry, and Wyatt.
Funny thing was, even though Peg had been a terrible mother and all four sons (including Frank) had hated her, the other three had mostly gotten over it long ago…
So when they heard Peg was dead, Clayton, Jerry, and Wyatt were shocked but all said without hesitation that they'd be there tomorrow.
After the calls.
"What now?" Carl asked.
Dexter shook his head. "Nothing else for today… What do you want to do? Stay here tonight, come to my place, or crash at Kev's?"
Carl looked conflicted, then said, "Can I just stay here?"
Carl wasn't scared.
Truth was, having a whole big house to himself sounded pretty good to him.
"It's your call," Dexter said with a smile.
Veronica couldn't stay quiet. "Dexter, Carl's still too young. Peg just died. Him staying here alone doesn't seem right."
Dexter smiled. "I can only suggest. It's up to Carl."
They talked it over for a bit.
Carl stayed firm—he wanted to stay.
Veronica didn't push anymore.
"Alright then. Come over for breakfast in the morning," Dexter said.
Carl nodded.
They talked a little about the funeral… whether it would be tomorrow or the day after would depend on when the morgue released the body.
Either way, the funeral home was already booked. No issues there.
About half an hour later.
Dexter got a call from Bianca. Everything that needed to be handled was done—the rest was for Carl to process on his own. So Dexter stood up. "That's it for now, Carl. Any problem, call me immediately. Anytime."
"Okay," Carl nodded. "Thanks."
Kev and Veronica stood up too, each giving Carl a few words of encouragement.
Mickey had nothing else going on, so he stayed put. "Carl, I'll hang here with you for a while."
Soon.
Dexter drove Kev and Veronica back to the Alibi.
Mickey and Carl stayed behind in the house, smoking and drinking.
By this point, Peg's death already felt a little like the past.
People die, the living keep moving forward. That's just how it is.
The Gallagher house.
Too much shit had happened, one thing after another, nonstop, impossible to handle. Fiona had reached the point where she honestly felt like living had zero meaning.
So, running on autopilot, she changed Liam's diaper, fed him something quick, then her body gave out. She collapsed onto the couch, grabbed the cheap booze on the coffee table, and chugged straight from the bottle.
Life was too fucking hard. Fiona just wanted to numb herself, pass out, and wake up hoping the nightmare was over and everything was back to normal.
It didn't take long. After downing more than a bottle of the cheap stuff, Fiona couldn't stay upright. Her head pounding, she slumped over, half-opening her eyes to stare at the ceiling while memories of the good old days flooded in.
Back then.
The six Gallaghers in this house—yelling, laughing, scrambling for money, keeping the family going.
Back then.
She'd worked a million jobs for pennies, exhausted every day, but she'd had drive. She'd believed that as long as the kids grew up okay, it was all worth it.
Those memories made Fiona smile. Then the smile turned into tears.
Before long the good memories crashed into the brutal present. Fiona started laughing and crying at the same time, losing it completely.
Because she was losing it, even all the chaos Frank had brought to the family over the years started to feel warm in her head.
Fiona even missed Frank. Naturally, she laughed and cried even harder.
Eventually, without realizing it, Fiona passed out, snoring away.
A while later Jimmy pushed the door open. He took one look at Fiona like this, shook his head, and sighed.
No choice.
Jimmy rolled up his sleeves, straightened Fiona out a little, found a blanket to cover her, then cleaned up the living room. After that he lit a cigarette, sat in the armchair, and decided to stick around a while longer to watch Liam.
Overall, Jimmy really was a good guy. Maybe the best man Fiona would ever meet in her life.
The rundown house.
Karen sat across from Lip with a straight face, eating a burger.
Lip kept talking.
By now, the whole "Karen fucked Mickey" thing had almost zero weight in Lip's mind.
He'd never cared that much about stuff like that anyway, and he'd always looked down on monogamy a little. Right now he just wanted Karen to change her mind, not break up, and stay together.
Karen stayed quiet on purpose and kept eating.
Time passed.
Lip, who had zero patience, got frustrated and raised his voice. "Karen, say something!"
Karen blinked, looked at him, then put on her performance, pretending to think hard for a few seconds. "Lip, do you know why I got high that day and ended up fucking Mickey?"
Lip had no fucking clue. He frowned. "Why?"
Karen sighed. "Back then you were still living at home. Your family had so much drama… I was really tired…"
She spun a whole bunch of bullshit, then added, "That kind of life isn't what I want…"
There it was.
The classic international playbook for shady women: I cheated, but it's not my fault—it's yours. You couldn't give me what I needed, so you pushed me to cheat!
Haha.
Old trick, but it still works.
At least on a dumbass like Lip, who barely understood the real world and whose ideas about love and relationships were already completely twisted.
Sure enough, Lip started feeling guilty. "I didn't know it was like that…"
He apologized.
Karen almost died laughing inside.
They kept "talking."
A long while later, dinner was finished.
Karen lit a cigarette, pretended to think again. "Lip, I'm not a good woman. I'm realistic. I want a good life."
"So here's what we'll do. Let's both cool off. For now we're not broken up, but we're not together either."
"I'm going to work hard for the life I want, and I hope you do the same."
"I need to see hope for us."
Karen was a natural at manipulation. She laid it on thick.
Lip, who didn't even realize he was being played, nodded hard. "I'll definitely work hard."
'What a fucking idiot,' Karen thought, then gave a small smile.
She knew Lip hadn't fucked in forever and was dying for it, so she asked, "You wanna fuck?"
Lip was more than ready. He grinned and started stripping fast.
A little after ten at night.
Frank, dusty from the road, walked up to the Alibi with a big grin.
The second he pushed the door open he laughed loud like a big shot and yelled, "Frank's here!"
The old drunks like Tommy actually answered this time.
Not because they liked Frank, but because Frank had something they wanted.
"Frank, where's my stuff?"
"Hurry up!"
"…"
The drunks started pushing him.
Frank laughed. "Don't rush. I got everything. Just let me have a drink first."
He plopped down in his usual spot at the bar and called out to Kev, "Three beers, pickled egg, make it quick."
Kev raised an eyebrow and didn't move. "Frank, you got money now? Show me the cash."
Frank smirked. "You people only care about money. Fine, here's your money."
He pulled out a wad of bills and started counting, acting all smug.
Kev grinned like an idiot. "Five hundred dollars."
Frank's eyes bugged out. "What? Five hundred for three beers? What the fuck kind of joke is that?"
Kev smiled. "How long has it been since you paid? You think the old tab just disappears?"
Frank froze, then had no comeback. He cursed under his breath, counted out five hundred, and slapped it on the bar. Then he glared at Kev. "Kev, you're a fucking capitalist!"
Kev beamed, not taking it as an insult at all. He took the money, poured the beers fast. "Frank, you just get back from Canada?"
Frank grabbed a beer and chugged it, too busy to talk.
He finished the whole thing in one go, burped, then answered. "Yeah."
"So you haven't been home yet, right?" Kev asked.
"Why?" Frank said, getting impatient.
"Peg died this evening," Kev replied.
Thump.
Frank's body jerked hard. His face changed completely. On that ugly old mug, real sadness showed clear as day.
Frank went quiet. He froze, completely still.
One second. Two seconds. Three seconds.
Then Frank suddenly grinned wide, threw his hands up, and shouted at the ceiling, "Thank you! God!"
He spun around and yelled at the drunks, "Everybody! My mom—Peg Gallagher, that old witch—finally kicked the bucket!!!"
"Next round's on me!"
The drunks still hanging out at the Alibi this late had lived in the South Side most of their lives. They all knew exactly what kind of woman Peg Gallagher was.
Even so, right after her death… these shameless bastards still had a tiny bit of a line they wouldn't cross. Nobody cheered just because free drinks were on the table.
In short, nobody gave Frank the reaction he wanted.
Frank's smile faded fast.
A moment later, sadness crept back onto his ugly face.
Frank silently picked up the beer on the bar and drank without a word.
Seeing this human side of Frank, Kev felt a little comforted. He didn't say anything, just quietly poured Frank a few more beers.
"Thanks," Frank said when he saw them. Then, sadly, "I don't have a mom anymore. She finally got the chance and abandoned me one last time."