Work Text:
Soup
/so͞op/ noun
a liquid dish, typically made by boiling meat, fish, or vegetables, etc., in stock or water.
The holidays were never a time of particular enjoyability growing up for the Gallaghers. Fiona did her absolute hardest to make sure the kids had good experiences but she was one woman- one girl more accurately. She would always stock up on extra food throughout fall just to ensure that Thanksgiving could be a feast. Even if that meant canned almost everything and salads she had pleaded with the Deli owner to give them to her instead of throwing them away at the end of the night. She did the same for Christmas. She saved up a little extra money so she could get each of her little siblings at least one small gift. The goal of making the holidays feel more like holidays was a much easier goal as Lip and Ian got older. The holidays were never as extravagant as Fiona knew they could be but she knew her siblings were happy and had at least a decent experience and that's all that she could wish for. Happy, fed and all together.
That’s what made that year's Thanksgiving so much different from anything in the past. It was the Gallagher and Mickey’s first Thanksgiving as orphans. That was almost a relief on its own.
Debbie could recall exactly one great Thanksgiving they had in the past. Monica was manic, Frank an enabler. They had robbed a foster care centre a city over - so they wouldn’t be immediately caught, a weirdly sober forethought- stole all the presents meant to be distributed out to the orphans in lieu of taking the bags of donated toys ot their own kids. They had also managed to come back with a feast worth of food. Fiona wasn;t sure how they managed that but she wasn't going to deny the kids a hearty meal.
In their drug-filled, drunken episode the two seemed to forget that Thanksgiving was not the holiday that meant presents. Either way, the kids were happy, Fiona wasn’t going to fight it. It was a good Thanksgiving. Frank and Monica were even lucid enough to serve the kids some food before they passed out stark naked in the backyard a few hours later. It was a win-win-win situation. The kids got toys, Fiona didn’t have to worry about the food situation and Frank and Monica had mixed so many narcotics they were passed out in the backyard for the entire night.
Every other holiday, well made okay by Fiona's great efforts were almost immediately sabotaged by their parents. When Monica was still there she would make the holidays some spectacle. Spend days cooking in preparation for Thanksgiving only to have the food inedible. She would take any presents left under their almost branchless broken tree and try to make them better. That almost always left the toys broken, completely unrecognisable or sold despite the fact nothing was worth any money.
Frank on the other hand expected to be with his family for the holidays. Never to actually be with them. He just felt entitled to food and attention given he was the ‘patriarchy of the household’. The siblings always called him on his shit but that never meant going down without a fight.
So Frank and Monica, together or separately could always be counted on to make the holiday season a little worse.
Except that wasn’t the case anymore. It was the Gallaghers' first holiday season spent scattered to the wind. Fiona was never going to leave Florida. Lip and Tami moved to Milwaukee. Ian and Mickey had their own place. Carl spent almost all of his free time at the Alibi since his cop friend had bought it, basically living in the apartment above it. Hell, even Kev and Vee weren’t around anymore. And Monica was dead. So was Frank.
Despite the fact that Gallaghers weren’t living together anymore, they all pulled together to be under one roof again for Thanksgiving. Debbie wouldn’t have allowed it to be any other way. She was determined to get her family back together even if it was just for one evening.
Debbie could feel the blood rush to her head as everyone slowly began to arrive at the old Gallagher house. She didn’t know why she was so anxious. She had no reason to be. Those were the people she had lived with all of her life. Still, she found herself fanning her pits anytime she heard a noise outside.
She had even tidied up a bit. Got patronised by Sandy laughing at her as she attempted to straighten the pictures on the mantel. Found herself getting incredibly nostalgic as she looked over her brother’s young faces. She was incredibly thankful the house never sold. Despite all of Lip’s efforts in restoration and remodelling before he had moved. The old Wallace street home was a little nicer now at least. There was a fresh coat of paint, a slightly upgraded kitchen, and a little bit cleaner now that it was just Debbie, Franny and Liam with the occasional pit stop from Carl.
Ian and Mickey stood outside the Gallagher house. Mickey’s head cocked to the side slightly. “Has the door always been this colour?”
“I, uh, actually can’t tell?” Ian joined his husband, both of their heads slightly tilted. “Dunno if it's clean… or new” He stood observing it for another second before realising they were both just staring at the door in the cold. He reached forward, hitting the doorbell and to his surprise, it actually worked.
“The fuck did you ring for? You've lived here for your whole life”
“Fucking manners maybe?”
Mickey scoffed, reaching for the doorknob when the door swung open on its own, Debbie on the other side sporting a huge smile.
“Thanks for coming, you guys!” Debbie lunged forward to give Ian a hug. He reciprocated by leaning in with one shoulder.
“Didn’t give us a choice”
“Mickey, shut up” Debbie rolled her eyes as she leaned into him trying to give Mickey a hug. He did not reciprocate standing board straight as her arms wrapped around his shoulder. Once Debbie realised he went completely stiff she hit his shoulder.
Debbie sighed at the sad attempt before straightening up, dusting her pants with her palms. “Did you bring food? You were supposed to bring food” she reminded.
“Yup, right here!” Ian excitedly held up a pot to her view. He was keeping it inside his jacket, trying to conserve some heat.
“Thought I told you two to bring a dessert?” Debbie forced a smile, head skewed to the side slightly as she just blinked.
“Told him to just buy a fuckin cake from the store. Betty Crocker here didn't want to listen”
“Yeah I know” Ian was quick to defend himself, nudging Mickey with his elbow. “But my vegetables were in harvest and they’re gonna go bad if I didn't use them so” He gestured up with the pot in his arms. “ Soup ”
Gardening was not as easy as Ian thought it was. He was willing to quit what was once a joking declaration that he wanted to grow tomatoes which grew into an actual attempt once he figured maybe he did need a hobby. He didn’t expect his hobby to be as hard as it actually was so he was willing to stop a few months in. That's when Carl chimed in with a dare that Ian shouldn’t give something up just because it was ‘hard’. Ian usually didn't give into his sibling's teasing - eh- but he was also determined to not let that shithead be right so he kept up gardening just to spite Carl. He eventually did get into the habit of it. It was a good way to cool off when shit got a little hard or irritating. Plus he eventually grew a few vegetables which were edible. Saved the couple a little money.
“Okay…” Debbie’s eyes wandered past the two and towards the street where a few kids were playing with some chalk. “Thanks” her eyes refocused on them, her smile warmer this time, more genuine.
“Oh hold on” Mickey took a second, shuffling through his pockets before shoving a saran-wrapped blob in Debbie’s hand. “Pot brownies. One of the dispensaries gave ‘em to us to test. That’s desert right?’
Debbie considered it for a second. The brownies had lost any of their shapes in the journey of Mickey’s pocket, but they would do. “Sure, thanks Mickey for following directions” A shit-eating grin at Ian.
“And good to see you guys, come in” she placed her body flat against the door to make room for the two.
“We saw you last fuckin Tuesday” Mickey muttered making his way into the home.
“Uncle Mickey! Uncle Mickey!” Franny squealed as she saw the two men make their way through the doorway. She bounced from her spot in front of the coffee table, sprinting towards them. She quickly hugged Ian’s leg before making her way to Mickey with a giant grin. She held up a piece of paper, extending her arms out all the way so that the paper got as close to Mickey’s face as it could. “I made you a turkey!”
Mickey took it from her grasp, he and Ian examed the art piece, both of them sporting the same dopey smile. The hand turkey was a labour of love for sure, decorated blue and red as she knew those were her uncle's favourite colours.
“What I don’t get one, Fran?” Ian gave her a faux pout.
“Making yours still!” The little girl sassed back, attention immediately going back to Mickey. “Do you like it?!”
“Looks great, kid” Mickey took a second to fold the paper, putting it in his pocket before ruffling her hair.
“I made more stuff wanna see?” Franny didn’t wait for a response. She grabbed Mickey’s hand dragging him over to the coffee table. The older man stifled a little at the hand grab but relinquished to the touch much easier than he had done with the kid’s mother earlier.
Ian didn’t budge, feet planted right in front of the fish tank, still inhabited but for whatever reason deemed a vital decoration. He felt Debbie’s arm graze his as she tried to get past him but he paid no attention. He was far more concerned fondly watching as his husband's eyebrows inched all the way up to his hairline, nodding along half-enthusiastically to whatever Franny was babbling about.
Ian was finally brought back to reality when he heard his name being called. Took him a second to make himself get his eyes off of Mickey before he looked up.
Lip stood in the archway of the kitchen, just waiting to be noticed.
Ian’s eyes lit up as he saw his brother, beelining to greet him. The two reunited with a hug, Ian careful not to knock over his priced soup. As they pulled away, Ian opened his mouth to speak but Lip was quicker. “Jealous?” a slight smirk sprawled across his lip.
“Of?”
“Mickey being the favourite uncle?”
Ian’s shoulders slacked, and a little laugh followed. “Nah” He immediately brushed off. He dropped off the pot onto one of the kitchen counters and then quickly made his way over to Robbie who was situated in a pack-and-play near the dining table. “Still got this one don’t I?” he raised Robbie over his head, smiled at the kid's squeal, and then brought him close to his chest. “Two out of three isn’t too bad”
Ian looked around the kitchen. “Speaking of which, where’s that other nephew of mine?”
“He and Tami went for a walk. Kid’s got a shit ton of energy to burn”
Ian immediately called his bluff, “Tami already had enough of Debbie?”
Lip bit the inside of his cheek, and a long drawn-out “ mmhmm ” followed.
In that moment, Debbie walked into the kitchen, eyeing her brothers over.
“What?” She scoffed at their dodgy eye contact.
“Nothing” both men tried, but ultimately failed to remain nonchalant.
“So-” Ian started, trying to avoid Debbie’s eyes “How's life treating you?” He nodded over at Lip as if they hadn’t talked almost daily for the last several months.
In the time Lip calculated an answer, Debbie had moved on. She situated herself in front of the backdoor, continuously checking the time on her phone.
“Ah, same old shit. The fucking HOA is up my ass. Can you believe that shit? My house” Lip grumbled. AIn was half paying attention, much more invested with the child in his arms. He had found a keyring toy discarded on the counter behind him, waving it in front of Robbie’s face.
“Mhm” Ian pretended to listen, eyes growing softer as he remained engrossed in his nephew’s movement. Lip continued his rant to what seemed to be deaf ears, only turning his head when he heard the doorknob jiggle.
Carl stood outside, trying to get the nob to give. Debbie had made sure to lock the door earlier. An act of pure pettiness as she knew Carl would try to sneak in. She wasn’t about to let him do so without making him do the walk of shame.
Carl finally looked up from his hands, giving an immediate scowl when he realised Debbie had been smirking at him. She let him stand in the cold for another a second before giving in.
“You’re late” She crossed her arms over her chest.
“How can I be late I fucking live here?”
“Sure”
For what it was worth, Debbie had a leg to stand on. Carl did spend most of his time in the apartment above the alibi now that he had a girlfriend.
“Whatever, I’m here now aren’t I?” He checked Debbie’s shoulder, pushing his way into the kitchen, looking for some escape.
“Did you bring something?” Debbie followed him.
Carl gave a dramatic sigh, reaching over ot get the backpack slung over his shoulder. He ripped it open, the backpack went limp as the container seemed to be the only thing in it. He haphazardly tossed the relatively big Tupperware container at his sister, who grunted a little from the impact.
“Carl, when I said bring something for us to eat I didn’t mean bar food?”
“What bar serves fucking potato salad, Debbie?” Carl slowly inched his way into the living room. “Arthur’s wife made it for the station... I just took it, didn’t have time to stop by the store”
Debbie just stared at the half-eaten container, a huff as she relinquished, tossing it on the counter near Ian’s pot. “Fine whatever. Just go get everyone? Can you do that or is that too difficult of a task for you too?”
“Whatever mom”
“Not your mother” Debbie chided. A sentiment strickenly reminiscent of what they heard Fiona saying all their childhood.
The two exchanged the bird but Carl did do as instructed, his voice booming through the house.
“I could have done that” Debbie made sure to lecture. Carl gave a shrug, retrieving an open beer bottle from the coffee table he had left that morning.
She turned her attention to Lip. “Better call your girlfriend back”
“Wife” Lip corrected.
Lip and Tami had a courthouse wedding not too many months ago. They were sure the man who signed the wedding certificate had seen the same scenario many times over. What was essentially a shotgun wedding. A noticeably pregnant woman and her boyfriend. Definitely was nothing special. Just a small get-together at the Gallagher’s house the night before they moved.
“Uh-huh right. Better call your wife back” Debbie amended her sentence, voice no less condescending. She, as usual, didn’t give him any time to answer. “Liam!” she yelled up the stairs, giving up any faith that Carl would do what she asked of him. “Dinner!”
The kid came rushing down not even a second later.
“Hey there, Bud” Lip gave his kid brother a tight squeeze in his grasp.
Liam had been the only one to truly try and stay connected to his siblings. He was still young, and yearned for the close kinship connections his siblings had in their youth. Frequently stayed over at Ian and Mickey’s when things got too hectic at home. Helped Carl out doing meaningless errands that Debbie would send them on. He called Fiona every Friday, texted her often. Texted Lip even more often. Lip had offered to take Liam with them to their Milwaukee home. The kid declined the offer, still deep in his own grieving when it was proposed. He wanted to stay home. In his home.
The Gallagher siblings knew that this Thanksgiving was hard for him, tried to be as tender as they could about the circumstances.
“You holding up okay?” Lip kissed Liam’s hair, letting him go.
Liam gave a slightly dejected shrug. “Yeah, I’m fine”
“Good to hear” Lip patted his back one last time for good measure. “Hey, tell you what, after dinner, we’ll look at that equation that’s been given you a hard time, Yeah?”
“Yeah that’s great, thanks Lip”
“Any time Bud” he lightly pushed Liam towards the centre of the kitchen where Debbie was trying to avoid everyone in her path to put all the food on the table.
“Give your brother his child back” Mickey rolled his eyes, making his way into the kitchen, Franny trailing behind him.
“Yeah give me my child back” Tami blindly agreed, making her way into the kitchen, leaving the stroller in the backyard. She grabbed Robbie from Ian’s arms, putting him back in the pack-and-play.
Debbie looked around the kitchen once more before she realised someone was missing.
“Sandy, Sweetie, dinner”
Carl was quick to make fun of the pet name but his ridiculing was cut short by Sandy very wobbly making her way down the stairs. She was clearly high as a kite as she laughed at her own shaking legs. What would later become a treasured tradition of Sandy’s; being as absolutely faded at any and every family event she was invited - forced - into. She stopped about four steps from the first floor, arms wide as she announced herself.
“Sup Gallaghers” Sandy nodded at everyone gathering in the kitchen. “And fellow Milkovich” A pointed at Mickey. “Oh and Tamera”
“Just Tami” The tall blonde corrected with a giggle.
“Aye her full name fucking Cassandra ?” Mickey thought it over for a second, that seemed to ring a bell so he went with it. “Yeah Cassandra, do with that what you will”
“Mhm, Cassandra help me with the dishes?” Debbie couldn’t help but keep her giggling from overtaking her words.
“Fuck you” Sandy playfully whined, but took to the position, dumping a few plates into Mickey’s arm, expecting him to set the table for her.
He did, begrudgingly.
“Looks good, Debs” Lip commented, also helping take the last few casseroles for her.
Debbie mouthed a thank you. “Doesn’t the corn look good?” Sandy interjected.
Lip looked down at the dish in his hands. It was most definitely canned corn with a little bit of salt and butter added. “Yeah sure”
“I know I even made them” Sandy gloated.
“Wow, Debs really domesticated you huh? Practically a housewife now”
Sandy snorted. “Says the man setting the table”
“Enough you two” Debbie pushed past them, a friendly eye roll. “We don’t have enough chairs” Debbie looked at the table, taking a brief second to admire all the food she had made, before the sad display of mismatched chairs. Somewhere along the lines of everyone moving out, two of the dining room chairs seemed to vanish into thin air. She had a sneaking suspicion that they were relocated to Mickey and Ian’s apartment but both of them denied the accusation.
Either way, there were far fewer chairs at the table than people in the house. Debbie had found some random chairs on Facebook Marketplace - a frequenting hobby turned minor obsession of hers- to accommodate the large family. That meant that besides the three wooden chairs she was left with, there were four more ugly mismatched ones. “Two spots are open at the kitchen counter so? Kids there?”
No one seemed to have a problem with that just shrugging.
Liam’s shoulder’s sunk when he realised that also meant him. Debbie was quick to catch into that knowing that he just wanted to be involved.
“And by that” she cleared her throat, eyes soft on Liam. “I mean Franny and Carl”
“Me?!” Carl dropped the ladle that was meant for everyone, that he had been using to sample the food, back onto the plate. “Why me?”
Debbie and him exchanged glares at one another. It wasn't until Debbie aggressively, not at all nuanced pointed at Liam that it finally clicked for Carl. “Yeah fine” he gave in.
“Cool!” She clapped her hands, “everyone serve yourself. Happy Thanksgiving!”
“Happy Thanksgiving” she got back all different levels of enthusiasm as they repeated the salutations. Everyone loaded up their plates with all the various dishes, most of them made by Debbie. Liam had baked a chocolate cake, a new hobby he had developed when he learned Ian was gardening. He too found the venture therapeutic.
The routine wasn’t all that different from what they were used to. The Gallaghers often did eat dinner together almost every Friday night. A precedent that Debbie ensured her family followed through with once they all moved out. Lip was pretty sure that agreement was the only thing that kept her from going nuclear when everyone started to go their separate ways. He knew it was because of her attachment issues. That was one of the few faults of Debbie’s that Lip couldn’t hold against her. He understood why she was the way she was. He knew it all too well.
Plus, it wasn't like anyone was against the weekly scrimmages. Even Mickey who would always put on a show about displeasing of Gallagher’s codependency didn’t actually really mind it. Plus he wasn’t going to refuse a homecooked meal, even if that did mean having to put up with his inlaws for a few hours.
It did feel good to have everyone back home, everyone had to admit.
Before everyone could disburse into their own seats, Franny loudly squeaked. “Everyone wait!”
All eyes were on the little redhead. “Can we say what we’re thankful for?” Franny piqued up from her spot in between Lip and Debbie’s seats at the table. She was on her tippytoes, not quite tall enough to reach the table in front of her. “Mr Kennedy says that's what you're supposed to do on Thanksgiving”
“Sure sweetie, I’ll start” Debbie squeezed Franny’s shoulder. “I’m thankful for the whole family, Franny you can go next”
“I’m grateful for my whole family too!” Franny’s face was plastered with a huge smile as everyone settled into their contentedness. “But especially Mamma and Sandy”
“Thankful for you too, sweetheart” Debbie was practically gushing, pulling her daughter in for a hug.
Once she was free, much more squished now Sandy reached across the table, first bumping the kid.
“Oh and uncle Mickey because he buys me guns!”
Debbie practically pulled her neck by how fast she clocked Mickey.
“Relax, not real ones” He waited till her eyes were off of him before adding, “not yet”
“Uncle Lip you next!”
Lip went on to say his own family, Tami and the boys. Then everyone else around the table took their own turns in time.
Till it got to Mickey who looked up annoyed, clearly interested in getting as much good as he could.
“Uh Ian,” he said, no thought to his words as he piled more potatoes onto his plate.
“Awww” Sandy gave a mock pout.
Mickey, as usual, was immediately defensive, “Go fuck yourself”
“Eat me”
“Gladly” Debbie muttered to her girlfriend.
Ian and Mickey shared the same disgusted face.
“Awww, what’s wrong? Not used to be the ones on the other side of the sexual deviancy?”
“Whatever, next”
“Oh, that's me” Liam straightened up in his seat. “Leroy” Liam finally decided on after a moment of consideration. Once a few confused looks loomed over him he elaborated. “Got back into the managing game recently, been handling him. Kid’s gonna make me a ton of money one day”
“There everyone went. Amen?” Mickey chided.
“Awoman” Sandy corrected and with that everyone dug into their meals.
The conversation remained unexpectedly civil. Most of the time talked was Lip and Tami catching up with everyone. Carl updated everyone about the state of The Alibi since Arthur bought it in between him trying as inconspicuously feeding his dog, Slim Jim Shady, all the turkey he refused to eat at his feet. A few minutes of Ian talking about the security business, even more minutes of Franny rambling on about everything happening at school.
“This soup’s really good, Ian” Tami spoke up, finishing the last of her bowl.
“Thanks!”
“Yeah noticed your husband’s not eating any of it” Sandy raised an eyebrow. She was never one to miss an opportunity in instigating.
“Try getting him to eat a vegetable. Gotta fucking sneak that shit in like he’s a kid” Ian teased.
Mickey raised his middle finger, shaking his head. “Allergic” Mickey barely got out between bites. “To the basil shit he puts in it”
“Since when are you allergic to basil?” Debbie snickered, taking a spoonful of the soup herself.
“Since we tried it for the first time and his airways closed up”
Mickey nodded from his place at the table. “If I’m gonna go to the ER for my airway being cut off that’s not the way I want it to go”
A collective groan came from the table.
“Wow, Ian you made a dish your husband can't eat” Sandy rose her hand up to her chest in a dramatic fashion as if to say ‘the scandal of it all’
“Yeah, yeah, eat my soup”
Sandy did for the record, going quiet when she realised she didn’t have anything negative to say about it. It was pretty good soup to Ian’s credit.
“Aye, Liam you alright?” Lip suddenly spoke up noticing the young boy’s plate remained untouched other than a bowl of soup.
“Wish Fiona was here” his voice was small. Barely carried over the cranberries he stared down at.
“Hey! She said she was trying to come for Christmas, and she’s gonna FaceTime us in an hour”
“Yeah, I guess” His shoulders were still sunken, and his frown deepened.
“No need to be sad” Debbie tried to comfort him a little. That didn’t seem to help as Liam slumped over in his chair, face going a little pale.
“You okay?” her voice was softer, full of concern. “You still don’t look too good?”
He did look up slightly, meeting Debbie’s eyes who were across from him for a split second “I don’t feel great, got a stomach ache”
“Me too actually” Carl dropped his fork in the middle of his plate, mashed potatoes flying from the force.
Everyone talked amongst themselves for a second before Tami gagged a little once someone passed the turkey in front of her.
“What you pregnant again?” Debbie joked.
“Fuck no” Tami was quick to respond, hand immediately landing on her gurgling stomach. “I’m not feeling too good”
“Fuck me either now that you mention it” Sandy started coughing, pushing her plate away from her like just the sight of food was disgusting to her.
“Me either” Lip decided, swatting at his face, suddenly overcome by the sweats.
“I feel fine” Mickey shrugged. He continued to eat the roll next to him Ian had just abandoned, also becoming increasingly pale.
“What did we eat?” Debbie barely got out between gags. She was quick to stand up, grabbing an empty pot from the bottom of the cabinets, holding it tight against her stomach, just in case.
“The fucking sketchy ass potato salad Carl brought?” Ian tried.
“Nah, I didn’t touch that shit” Debbie immediately rejected.
“Me either” Tami stood up shakily. Took her about .02 seconds to process what she was feeling before running to the bathroom, blowing chunks.
“Fuck why are we all getting sick?”
Everyone looked around the table. Most of them were too dizzy or fighting the lump in their throat to give a proper response. That was except Sandy whose eyes widened in realisation.
“The fucking soup!”
“Ian what did you put in it?” Debbie swallowed hard.
With all eyes glaring at him, Ian began to squirm a little. “Just the vegetables from my garden. Nothing was bad I promise”
“Yeah he made me smell 'em all” Mickey testified.
“What vegetables?” Liam was also to his feet, running towards the sink, death grip on the edge of the counter to keep him standing.
“Uh, celery, tomatoes, potatoes, carrots, basil, mushrooms-”
“Wait you grew the mushrooms right?” Liam was quick to catch on, taking all his energy to look up towards Ian.
“Not exactly, they were growing so I just harvested them”
“Ian” Lip was staring daggers at his brother. “Please tell me you did not use wild fucking mushrooms in your soup,”
Ian thought about it for a second before sitting down in his chair slightly, face beet red.
“You fucking idiot!” Debbie loudly proclaimed. Mickey’s jaw clenched at the remark.
“Do we need to call fucking poison control?” Tami’s desperate plea from the toilet rang throughout the kitchen.
“Thought you called poison control when you eat batteries and tide pods, not real food” Carl was quick to call out. “Would know ‘cus I’ve eaten both of those things”
“We don’t need to call poison control!” Liam was quick to interject. He had lost the strength to keep his head up cheek pressed against the kitchen counter. “Most types of mushrooms in our area aren’t psychedelic”
“Shit are we gonna be tripping balls?” Sandy interjected, dare the family think a little excitedly.
“No” Liam sighed, taking a second to let the nausea roll over him. “We’re probably just gonna be throwing up till we get it all out of our system”.
It didn’t take much time after that before everyone lost their lunch - or rather Thanksgiving dinner-. Those who hadn't eaten as much had the strength to make it upstairs to the second bathroom. That was pretty much just Sandy and Debbie. Everyone else had broken out into WWIII downstairs trying to find any container they could to throw up in.
Mickey who was the only adult unaffected was forced to help, retreating them water, throwing out the remains into the backyard, tried not to throw up himself.
Ian himself was pretty nauseous, he did have to admit. He however refused to play into it, much too guilty of a conscious to try and not help his family out. He found himself holding Tami’s hair back and jogging upstairs trying to give his sister saltines.
While everyone was distracted trying to find an open toilet or pot or trying to remain conscious, Franny found herself at the dining table. She hadn't had any of the soup, in a picky phase where she refused to eat anything that was even slightly green. Her eyes were all droopy, struggling to keep herself sitting up. Took Ian a split second to realise she was picking away at the brownies that his husband had brought.
“Fuck” he quickly cursed, running over to pry the kid’s hand open.
“Uncle Ian I feel funny” She immediately started giggling, moving left and right like she was in motion.
Lip walked into the kitchen as Ian tried to persuade the girl to let him pick her up. He also realised what was happening, the two staring at each other.
“Don’t tell Debbie about this?” Ian nodded up at Lip. Lip scratched his eyebrow, moving to throw away the evidence.
Ian had managed to wrangle the girl into his arms, booking it upstairs before her mom could figure anything out. She was ruining his plan by her manic laughing all the way up the stairs. The second he placed her in Debbie’s bed she passed out. Ian just prayed she would forget about the brownie.
When Ian returned backstairs everyone was quiet again. The sickness seemed to come in waves, so did the anger towards Ian. The redhead had learned in that very short amount of time that the second everyone felt a tiny bit better their rage for Ian grew exponentially. Ian was stirring away from his family. He had found a few packs of stomach medicine in the bathroom upstairs. He had no clue how long they had been there but he figured that expired medicine was better than nothing.
He then figured maybe he should stop trying to get his family to ingest things.
He looked up, Mickey seemed to also sneak away before anyone could call for his help again. “Fucking phones been buzzing”
Fiona was calling as she planned to.
“Mick, can you answer?”
Mickey did a double take. “Really?” he cocked an eyebrow. “You want me to answer your bitch sister while your siblings are fucking blowing chunks?”
“Can you just-”
“Yeah whatever” He answered. Fiona was on the other side of the screen, ridiculous turkey glasses her friends had gotten her the only thing in frame “hey guys - er Mickey, hi”
She frowned a little when no one answered. Her enthusiasm melted.
“Uh hey, Fiona” Ian quickly grabbed at the phone in Mickey’s hand, dropping it on his leg for a split second before his face was on screen. He forced a fake smile that Mickey had the audacity to chuckle at.
“Hey” her voice was a little wary. “What’s going on?”
“Uh well,” Ian took a deep breath, eyes briefly flashing to see Liam lay his head on the kitchen counter in between his sprints of throwing up. “Everyone got food poisoning”
“His fault” Mickey was quick to rat his husband out.
Fiona chose to ignore Mickey chewing her teeth. “Are you guys okay?”
“Fiona, Ian tried to kill us” He could hear Carl call out from the sofa. Except he didn’t quite make it that far, sprawled out on the floor beneath it, his dog licking his face.
“Can we call you back later?” Ian forced a smile when he heard Carl gag again, that was a surefire sign that another round of terror was coming. He didn't wait for an answer, hanging up on her, tossing the phone somewhere.
The spouts of sickness lasted another hour. Ian finally couldn't hold it in any longer, pushing Liam out of the way to get access to the sink. The worst of it was mostly over though.
No one got to finish their plates. Everyone was far too lethargic and pissy and still sick to eat anything else. One by one everyone attested to feeling a little better, but not much.
Mickey also made sure to voice his disdain for his husband when he was forced to help everyone to their beds. Made sure to curse him out when he was saddled with Lip.
Ian had to pass out on the couch for a second trying to catch his ability to function again. Liam had found some Alka seltzer, becoming the saviour of the night.
Ian eventually made it to his feet a little past nine. They had been at the Gallagher's the entire afternoon and got to enjoy very little of that. He felt terrible, making sure to deliver his tour of sorries to everyone before they all passed out.
“You feeling ok?” Ian knocked on the open door frame of Debbie’s room. He took a step in.
Sandy hadn't seemed to gather enough strength to make it into her own bed. Curled into a bawl in Franny’s bed, clearly too big to fit, knees hanging off the side of the small mattress. Ian assumed she was asleep, but couldn't be a hundred percent sure as she periodically groaned. Franny was for sure passed out, body draped over her mother’s lap after her minor trip.
“I’m okay for now” She leaned back against her wall. She forced a smile at him and just for a second he saw the little girl who used to be his sister.
She had been a little different since her Texas stint. She was meant to run away, be a groupie to whatever misconduct Heidi could get into. She even took Franny with her. Her family came to the consensus that she was trying to start fresh as they were. She didn’t succeed.
Debbie seemed to have a complete mental breakdown halfway through. Abandoned Heidi somewhere in Oklahoma, made her way straight home. Her first stop back was mending things with Sandy, then her family. She was a defeated woman. Even half-heartedly agreed to let Lip do what he needed in order to sell the house. Lip did try for what it was worth.
She was a lot more laid back for a while after that, wounded. She had been her normal bitchy self most of the afternoon. The reliability of Debbie being bitchy was a stable of being home, they all did have to admit but she still seemed a little hurt over the entire situation.
The wave of guilt passed over him. Not just because he was responsible for his entire family being sick, but also because he did feel for Debbie.
He nodded down at the corner of the mattress to sit. Debbie gave a slight nod, moving Franny's foot out of the way. “Why are you still here? Figured you would flee the second dinner is over like you usually do”
Ian frowned. Straightened himself up a little. “Hey, your my baby sister” Ian reminded her, he reached forward to squeeze her hand. “Making sure you’re okay”
“I think I’ll be fine” She groaned. “I didn’t eat that much of your soup, I didn’t trust it”
Ian raised his eyebrows. He guess that now in hindsight she was valid in her caution.
“Everyone else will be fine” she quickly added on, sensing Ian’s worry. “I’m sure its mostly out of everyone's system by now"
The second those words left her mouth she heard Carl running across the hallway and to the bathroom where he promptly blew chucks again.
They both did have to give a nervous chuckle at how good Carl’s comedic timings seemed to be.
“We'll be fine.” she spoke again, her fingers brushing through Franny’s hair. “It’s been the most eventful Thanksgiving since” Debbie trailed off, immediately looking back up to meet Ian's eyes. “I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to-”
“S’ok” Ian immediately waved off. He didn’t bother to address the elephant in the room. He just gave a sigh “It's been what ten years? Think I’ve gotten over it by now”
Debbie scoffed, letting that reality set in. “think we’ll ever get over that shit?” Her voice was much quieter.
“I dunno, guess we gotta try right”
Debbie gave a solemn nod. “You know I think we’re the ones to be most fucked up by Monica”
Her eyes watered a little. Ian was genuinely struggling to see if the glossy eyes were coming from the notion or another bout of nausea.
Ian didn’t have anything to say about that. He still missed his mom every now and again, he would be lying if he didn’t think about her. He also knew that he didn't want that to be true. That he was not Monica. Didn’t want to be hurt by her anymore. Tried to take a chapter out of Mickey’s book.
Debbie seemed to catch on that he was a little uncomfortable. She squeezed his hand. “Go home” she offered. “I’ll call to let you know how everyone;’s doing”
“You sure?”
“Positive”
He nodded at her one last time before standing back up, intending to go downstairs, and put away all the food that was mostly untouched.
“Ian” Debbie quickly called before he could round the bend to make his way to Carl’s room. She quickly and gently scooted Franny off her so that the girl was laying back on Sandy’s side.
She stood up fast, hand to brace the headboard as she did, forgetting that she did in fact not feel great. Once the dizzy feeling left she bolted in Ian’s direction. “Thanks for everything” she hugged him tight. Ian didn’t hesitate a second to wrap his arms around her, giving her a good squeeze. “Even though you did poison us all”
“Oops?” He offered, pulling away. He didn’t even dare to mention the fact that he may have also gotten her daughter high. That was a secret he was taking to his grave.
Despite the fact that the whole family did accidentally get poisoned, it wasn’t even in their top five worse holiday gatherings. Chaotic, messy, unpredictable. Done the Gallagher way. It was actually one of their best.