Chapter Text
The hustle and bustle of the Gallagher household was strangely comforting to Fiona. Her running around making lunches and keeping Carl out of the microwave, her brothers’ good natured yelling, the whirling of the washing machine, sounding frantic and hurried like it had someplace else to be. It was a perfect balance, mornings in the Gallagher household, the controlled chaos that only a house with so many people could hold.
So of course, because another thing about the Gallagher household was that they had shit luck all around, something had to disrupt that chaotic balance.
It was like any other ordinary morning, she was running around the kitchen making breakfast. No lunches that day considering it was Saturday, and she noticed it when she was cleaning a dish.
“Lip, hold on, what’s that?” She’d said, frowning at the weird looking rash on her brother’s upper arm she’d noticed in the moment where Lip walked past her.
“Huh? I don’t know, don’t worry about it, Fi,” Lip said, clearly thinking she’d drop the matter after that.
“Uh no, that looks weird, I’m calling V to take a look. No buts-wherever you run off during the day can wait,” she said certainly, going back to the dish she was cleaning and trying to ignore the worry in the back of her mind.
Lip had rolled his eyes, muttering about overbearing older sisters, but he didn’t protest beyond that.
Which actually worried Fiona a little, if she was being honest.
Lip had been…quiet for a while. Lip Gallagher wasn’t known to be quiet, like ever, but she’d got busy-she was always busy-and just figured he was just being a teenager.
After breakfast was done and everyone was off to their respective places they went on weekends, minus Lip, she turned back to said younger brother.
She frowned again, stepping up closer. “You been feeling alright?”
The hand she pressed to his forehead earned her another eye roll, but he let her do it. In his seventeen years, Lip had learned that when Fiona fretted, it was best to just let her. The fact that he didn’t feel great was irrelevant. Hadn’t felt great for a while, actually.
“Little warm,” she muttered to herself, going for the thermometer in one of the kitchen drawers.
“Fiona, it’s fine,” Fiona ignored him, waiting until the thermometer beeped.
The 99.8, even if not technically considered a fever, just cranked the worry up further.
She set it down, ignoring the slight shake of her hand as it clanked on the kitchen counter. She didn’t know why she was worried about this, but something just felt off.
This time she went for her phone, dialing the number she knew so well.
“What’s up, Fi?” Veronica said, putting down the clothes she’d been folding.
“Hey V, Lip has a weird rash, could you come take a look? Probably just being paranoid, but-“
“But the kids are practically an extension of you and being paranoid is basically your fuckin specialty?”
“Not how I was gonna put it, but…”
V laughed on the other end of the phone. “I’ll be right there, don’t worry too much bitch.”
Fiona chucked a little. V always knew what she needed to hear.
She directed her attention back to Lip, stepping closer and grabbing his arm to take a closer look herself.
It was in a strange bulls-eye looking pattern. Fiona had seen a lot of rashes on her siblings, and never had one looked like this.
When V burst through the front door with all the chaotic flair that came with her, Fiona let go.
V walked into the kitchen, kicking a trash bag out of her way and walking over.
“Let’s see it,” she said, taking Fiona’s place in grabbing Lip’s arm.
Fiona stepped back, craning her neck to observe the look on Veronica’s face, trying to reassure herself that she really was just being paranoid.
“You guys are fuckin paranoid, you know that?” Was the eloquent response from Fiona’s brother.
When V went still, tilting her head a little as she stared at the rash, Fiona felt her heart sink.
“V? What’s wrong?” Fiona said, resisting the urge to grab her shoulders and shake the answer out of her when V stayed silent.
“Lip, this is important, have you been in the woods lately?”
The serious tone that V used to ask the seemingly random question frankly terrified Fiona. Veronica Fisher almost never used a tone that was even remotely close to serious. At least, not serious like that. Not so solemn, not so…final.
Lip tilted his own head. “Uh, yeah? Me and Ian have been helping Carl build something in the ones near Aims Street since August. What’s that shit got to do with this?”
“Yeah, V? What’s that shit got to do with this?” Fiona didn’t mean to sound snappy, but she needed an answer, godammnit, or she was going to go badshit insane.
V didn’t pay her any mind, asking another fucking question instead of answering theirs, “Felt okay since you started there? Fevers?”
Lip looked at Fiona, a scared gleam that he was trying to hide in his eyes. Because he thought the fevers were nothing, that he was just…stressed.
“V, seriously, what’s wrong? What do you think it is?”
V let go of Lip’s arm, turning to Fiona. She looked so serious. “Bulls-eye rash is only really seen in one thing. Lyme disease, Fi. Comes from a tick, usually found in foresty areas. You need to go to the clinic, like ASAP.”
Lyme disease. Fiona had heard of it, a vague health class that she hadn’t really been paying attention in, but she didn’t know much about it.
She didn’t ask though. She was busy picking up the phone and calling to make an appointment with the clinic.
Because Lip needed help. She didn’t quite understand what was going on, what exactly Lyme Disease entailed. But, despite the bill from the clinic that she really couldn’t afford, she didn’t play around about her siblings. Or, more accurately, her kids.