Work Text:
1
Catholics had quick turnaround funerals.
Lip wasn’t so sure Frank still counted—if anyone was an exception to the whole ‘for life’ thing, it was him—but they were doing the quick turnaround thing anyway.
Probably less because of Catholicism and more because they all figured the sooner they could rid themselves of Frank’s bullshit once and for all, the better.
Lip didn’t disagree. Which was why he was sorting through the boxes of junk Frank had managed to squirrel away in the house.
A loud sigh echoed down the stairs, and Lip glanced up. Liam walked down the stairs carrying a notepad and a pen. “Hey, bud,” Lip greeted.
Lip still had to check a few of the bedrooms for remnants of Frank. After that, he could pawn anything worth it and dump the rest. As expected, most of Frank’s stuff was more disgusting and depressing than worth anything. Lip pinched his noise at the thought of going through the rest.
Still no reply. Liam was at the table, hunched over the yellow notepad. Lip repeated, a little louder, “Bud?”
Liam startled. “Sorry.”
“You’re good.” Lip gave one last glance at the box of shit he was sorting through before kicking it to the side. He’d been sitting here for too long anyway. He shuffled towards Liam and pointed his finger at the paper. “Whatcha you got going on there?”
Liam shook his head and tapped his pen on the paper, looking more like a disappointed principal than an eleven year old kid. Lip couldn’t fight the smile that appeared on his face at the sight. “I’m writing a eulogy.”
Lip peered over his shoulder, the paper was blank. “For Frank?”
Liam’s tone quickly turned exasperated. “Has anyone else died recently?”
Fair enough. Lip raised a hand in surrender as he sat down into the chair next to Liam. “Not sure what to say?” The funeral was in two days, and Lip sure as hell didn’t know what he was going to say. Or if he was going to say anything.
“No.”
“He didn’t give us a lot of good material, huh?”
Liam clicked his pen and frowned. “But doesn’t everyone deserve like at least a few nice words? A good sendoff or something?”
If this was anyone else, Lip would probably fight that statement. But for Liam, all Lip mustered was, “Sure, but Frank was Frank. Don’t feel like you have to lie.”
Liam frowned. “Okay, thanks.” Lip was tempted to push it a little farther. Ask him whether Frank has ever done anything worse praising.
It wouldn’t do Liam any good, Lip knew, so he stifled the urge and placed a hand on the table to push himself up before Liam blurted out, “I’m an orphan now.” Lip let his weight drop back into the chair.
The kitchen felt increasingly empty. Barren with only the trashbags of stuff piling up. Lip leaned in and tried to catch Liam’s gaze. “None of us are leaving. Me, Ian, Carl, even Debbie. We aren’t going anywhere.”
Liam looked up with wide eyes. “I don’t even have a legal guardian.”
Lip grabbed Liam’s hand, squeezed it, and said, “We’re going to figure it out. I was serious about you living with me and Tami. I don’t want you to worry.”
Liam made a soft noise of confirmation. Lip could tell he wasn’t going to talk anymore.
Lip shook Liam’s shoulder as he stood up. “C’mon, let’s take a break from writing. Help me with cleaning all of this stuff up.”
2
Lip didn’t read the death certificate until the night before the funeral.
It was damning, to say the least.
The nurse's words rolled around in his head. Frank had, “pickled his brain.” He didn’t overdose. He didn’t get shot in the head. He didn’t fucking fall asleep on the train tracks. He had given himself dementia. Lip had expected Frank’s death since he was five years old. He had imagined countless ways his drinking and drug use was going to kill him.
Alcoholic Dementia. Lip stared at the death certificate and rolled a cigarette between his fingers. Somehow, this possibility had escaped him. He patted his pocket for a lighter.
The front door opened with a creak. Lip didn’t bother looking up, still fumbling to open the pocket with shaking hands.
Lip could feel the weight of each of Tami’s steps down the staircase. He knew it was her. Everyone else was still asleep. Ian had already managed to get out. He still couldn’t look up. The steps stopped as Tami’s hand clasped his shoulder. Her other hand brushed his cheek and pulled him towards her. Lip felt a shudder escape him.
“Hey, hey, you’re okay,” Tam soothed as she rocked him. She ran a hand through his hair.
“Why the fuck do I care?” Lip asked. The certificate was crumpled in his hands. “I hated him. I hate him. Why do I care?”
It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that it still hurt. It wasn’t fair that Frank had fucked their family over but still got the last laugh.
Lip’s face was pressed against Tami’s chest. He could feel her breath in and out as she said plainly, “Because he was your dad.”
Lip laughed. It sounded deranged, even to him. “Y’know, he used to give me whiskey in a sippy cup.”
Tami just wiped his face. “But he was still your dad.”
What did that even mean? “Half of my life has just been cleaning up his messes. I mean, I was one of his messes. Now, he dies?” When Lip thought nothing Frank could do could affect him anymore.
The cigarette he still was grasping onto was damp. The paper was starting to peel. Lip pulled away from Tami, but she kept a hand on his head.
She untangled the crumpled certificate out of his other hand. She ran her hands over it, smoothed it out. Lip could sense the weight of her eyes on the paper as she read it. Maybe getting stuck on the same words as him.
Lip bounced his leg as his eyes which, humiliatingly, begun to sting again. Lip pursed his lips and said, “I don’t want to do this to you. Do this to Fred.”
She looked at him, her hand stilling on his head. “Do what?”
Lip forced himself to unclench his jaw. “I don’t want to keep fucking up. I know that’s what I’ve been doing.”
His face was still wet and red as the words fell from his lips. It felt like confession.
Lip could see Tami’s breath as she sighed. “Okay, good,” she whispered and ran her hands through his hair once more. A simple response. Too simple compared to the screaming matches they’d had only days prior. “Why don’t we go get some more sleep? It’s still early.”
It didn’t feel like it. His legs ached as she helped him up. He threw the cigarette into the grass and let her guide him inside.
3
The funeral was quick. Once he was in the ground, everyone scattered. Ian and Mickey wandered off together. Debbie left with Franny. Carl and Liam went back to the house. They were going to meet up again later for dinner, apparently.
None of them had Fiona’s number. All Lip had was her email address. He sent her an email but who knows if she even read it yet.
Lip exhaled smoke as he looked at the plain gravestone. They’d buried him next to Monica.
Tami held Freddie close to her chest as she rocked back and forth. “How do you feel?”
Lip rolled his shoulders back. “Fine.” It wasn’t even a lie. It didn’t feel like he was at his dad’s funeral. Then again, Frank was never much of a father.
Lip didn’t end up having much to say when they were all giving speeches.
The sun was high in the sky, and Lip was already overheating in his suit. He took one last drag of the cigarette then smashed it into the mud with his boot. He held out his hands, “Here, gimme him.”
Tami handed him over gently. Fred squirmed as he was transferred into Lip’s hands.
Lip smiled when Freddie made a grab for his face. “Hey, little dude. You dodged a bullet with this guy.” Lip nodded at the grave.
“I think he’s got enough to handle with his own dad.”
“Probably true.” Lip shifted Fred up onto his hip. “Let’s get out of here.”
“Sure. Back to the house?”
“Yeah, I told Shelby I’d meet him.”
Tami walked in front of him, leading them back to the paved pathway. “Finalizing the sale?”
“Making a plan for it, at least.” Lip let his boots drag across the cement, trying to scratch off the mud. “I think we should talk about where we’re going to live.”
Tami glanced back at Lip with a bored expression. “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.”
Lip swallowed and took a few quick steps so he and Fred were in step with her. “I’ll come live with you and your dad until we find a new place.”
Tami’s eyes skimmed over him, as if to test if he was lyiny. “And after that?”
“We’ll start looking at houses or apartments. I don’t want to be living at your dad’s for too long—“ Lip held up a hand to stop Tami from saying what he knew she was going to,“—not just because he annoys me. We also… we need to think about Liam.”
“What about him?”
It was a bit of a lie when he told Liam that he talked to Tami about this. Lip looked down at his shoes. “Frank was his legal guardian. He needs someone to take care of him.”
“And that’s us? With Fred?”
Lip sighed. “Debbie and Carl both can’t. God knows where Fiona is. He’s a good kid, and he’s not a toddler.”
“Okay.”
Lip paused walking. Tami stopped a few steps ahead and looked behind. “Really?” He asked.
Tami shifted her weight. “He’s your brother. And he’s a good kid. If you think we’re the best option, then I trust you.”
Lip swallowed. “And the baby?”
The trees rustled in the silence. Fred babbled to himself. Tami crossed her arms. “I don’t know. I mean, we’re struggling with just Fred. And if we’re taking in Liam, then. I don’t know.”
Lip bounced Freddie in his arms. “We’ll make it work. Whatever you decide. But there is, uh, is one third option we can think about.”
4
“Nice place,” Tami noted as they walked down the hallway.
Kinda hotel-ish, the hallway felt like a never-ending maze, but sure. “Yeah.”
They reached the elevator. Lip signaled for Tami to help lift the stroller to get it over the curb. Fred squealed.
She messed with her hair in the door’s reflection. “When do you think it was built?”
Lip squinted at Tami. “Are you nervous?”
“What? No, he’s your brother,” Tami denied. The elevator pinged to signal they were almost at the third floor. “…But we are trying to sell our baby to him.”
“I mean,” Lip shrugged, “that’s one way to put it.”
“What do you mean that’s one way to put it?!” Tami shouted, then quickly quieted when the elevator opened to reveal a concerned-looking couple. Tami directed a sugar sweet smile towards them as they stepped out of the elevator.
Tami pulled on Lip’s shoulder and whispered sharply, “That’s what we’re doing.”
Lip pushed the stroller and looked for Ian and Mickey’s apartment. “Yeah, yeah. But it’s Ian. It’s okay. We’re okay.” Lip stopped outside number 23. “This is the one, right?”
Tami sighed and straightened out her sweater. “Yeah.”
The outside of the apartment looked like every other one. Grey door, gold letters. She took control of the stroller while he knocked.
Mickey opened the door in an apron. “Hey.”
Lip put his hands in his pockets. “Wow, you look like a real homemaker now.”
Tami offered a wave which Mickey returned with one hand while the other flipped off Lip. He turned on his heel back into the apartment. Lip took that as their sign to follow.
Their apartment was basically unfurnished besides a beaten up sofa and mismatched recliner. Their bedroom door was open, and Lip could see clothing scattered across the floor. Tami parked the stroller in the living room and lifted Fred out, she looked over her shoulder into the kitchen where Mickey was puttering around. “Where’s Ian?”
“Bathroom. He just got out the shower,” Mickey explained.
Lip slipped into the kitchen and grabbed a pot, trying to peer inside when Mickey slapped his hand away. “I was just trying to see what you were making!”
“Just fucking ask. It’s spaghetti!”
Lip opened his mouth to argue but was interrupted by Ian stepping out of the bathroom. Lip turned his attention towards him. “Look who finally showed.”
Ian gave Lip a Look. “Stop picking fights. Hi, Tami. Oh, can I see Freddie?”
“Yeah, here, sit down.” Ian did as he was told, and Tami plopped Fred into his lap. “You picked a good time to show up. I think they need you to mediate.”
Lip shook his head and joined them back in the living room. “We do not.” He sat down next to Tami on the couch and watched Ian hold Fred.
It was a good picture. Ian looked relaxed, sunken into the warm brown recliner. The light still left outside streamed through the window and lit up the living room. Freddie was curled into Ian, mumbling a mix of nonsense and the few words he’s picked up. Ian baby-talked back to him.
Mickey left the kitchen to instead lean on the chair and lean over the chair, watching Ian as he bounced and played with Freddie.
Lip glanced at Tami. Tami looked back and tilted her head. Mouthed a ‘now.’ “Hey, uh, remember your anniversary party?”
Ian raised his eyebrows. “It was around two weeks ago. So, yeah.”
“Remember what you said? About the baby.”
Ian stilled. Tami took over from Lip, “Well, you guys want a kid, and well, we have one. I don’t know if you’ve talked to Mickey about this but–” Tami raised her hand but dropped it midway through the gesture.
Mickey stared back at them with a blank slate stare. Ian opened and shut his mouth before finally saying, “Are you okay, like, medically, to have a baby? After Fred?”
“We visited the doctor yesterday. They think I should be okay.” Tami bit her lip. “This isn’t really the right time for us to have a second baby. And if you guys want a baby…”
“No shit?” Mickey asked, slack jawed.
Lip shook his head. “No shit.”
Ian’s face split into a grin. Mickey looked at Ian, “We’re having a baby?”
“Sounds like it.”
Ian asked in disbelief, “We’re having a baby? This is for real?”
Tami crossed her fingers awkwardly. “For real.”
“Oh my god. We’re having a baby.” Ian grinned and turned back to Mickey who still looked shell-shocked.
“We’re having a baby,” Mickey echoed. His face cycled through emotions before he turned back to Lip and Tami and asked, “Ready to eat?”
Before they could even answer, he was calling Ian back into the kitchen to help him serve. Ian quickly handed Fred back before going.
He stepped back and leaned on Tami. “He’ll be a good dad.”
“Yeah.” She swallowed and whispered, “This is the right decision.”
It was. It still hurt.
5
Lip twisted the key and gave a shove to the door. It opened to reveal an empty apartment with dark wood floors. When he dropped the box he was carrying, dust particles went flying up.
“It’s not much, and you’ll have to share a room with Freddie, but,” Lip scratched his head as he surveyed the apartment, “we’ll upgrade eventually.”
Liam quietly nodded and started to trail down the hallway. Lip followed.
“Your bedroom is to the right. Across from the bathroom. Then me and Tami’s is at the end of the hall.” Lip pointed to each room and opened the door to what would be Liam’s bedroom. “Tami’s out grabbing some groceries. I was thinking we could circle back to the house later today and grab the rest of our stuff.”
Almost everything was cleared from the house and sitting in a storage unit while everyone got settled in their new places, but both of them had one or two boxes still there.
“Sounds good,” Liam agreed and then went to go sit on the only thing in the room, his bedframe. Lip joined him. He had set it up in the room only yesterday.
They still needed to set up the crib. “When you were around Fred’s age, you shared a room with Debbie.”
Liam eyes went wide, “I did?”
Lip laughed. He remembered Debbie demanding her own room at the kitchen table. “Yeah, so if you were able to survive that, you should do fine with this. We’ll put him in me and Tam’s bedroom if Fred gets too much.”
Liam shrugged. “I think it’ll be fine.”
Something still seemed off. Lip leaned his arms on his legs and took a good look at Liam. “Sad you’re leaving the house?”
He hesitated for a split second before shaking his head.
“You sure?”
“No. I just...”
Lip waited but the silence stretched on. He prompted, “What?”
“I just didn’t think you guys were ever going to sell the house.”
The words felt like they punched Lip square in the face. “I didn’t either,” Lip admitted. “I kind of felt like I was bound to it, you know?”
Liam picked at his shirt’s sleeve and nodded.
“I think,” Lip ran his hand over his face, “I kept telling myself that I was destined to live in that house. That neighborhood. Because I was a Gallagher, I was Frank’s son. I screwed myself over because of it.”
He was rambling, he knew, but maybe it needed to be said.The words echoed in the small room, bounced off the hardwood and the popcorn ceiling. “You’re smart. Frank dug his own grave, and I did too. But you don’t have to.”
Liam, in his long-sleeve polo, looked at Lip in his button. “You got this apartment. You got out of the house. That’s a step up, right?”
Lip really fucking hoped it was.