#morbaedity

[notmyfuckingfather]

morbaedity replied to your post: “I still care about you.” ( from fiona. )

this is something i didn’t know i needed

It’s something I’m probably going to go to hell for, but like, worth it.

[notmyfuckingfather]

“I still care about you.” ( from fiona. )

             TWO LESS MOUTHS TO FEED. That should have been the silver lining they clung on to, but Lip was having a hard time swallowing down the hatred he felt towards his sister. Once upon a time, Fiona had done her best. ONCE UPON A TIME. He was stuck living between stages one and two of grief, along with a lot of four. Denial. Anger. DEPRESSION. Anger was always the most notable with him, which is why his hand was wrapped, fingers splayed apart each sporting a splint from where he’d fractured his knuckles. Destruction was the default, especially when he couldn’t find the words. Anger and tears mangled and held together by brute force. 

              Liam was fucking dead because of her. Fucking dead because of her fucking COCAINE. Because she couldn’t be a FUCKING ADULT. Acceptance still hadn’t come, so it seemed like the five stages of grief were just as fucked up as the Gallaghers. The shiner hardly took away from the bags under his eyes. Carl, Debbie, and Ian were all dealing differently, but it was him that was there pulling them together. Trying, at least. Ian had fucked off two days ago, after the FUNERAL Fiona didn’t get to attend. 

               As much as he loved his sister deep down, he didn’t think he could forgive her for this. Even looking at her through the thick glass, phone limp in his hand, uncaring she was sobbing and could hardly breathe. Did she care about Liam too? She had taken on responsibility. And maybe he should have cut her more credit, for all the shit she’d been through, for the life she’d given up for them, for doing whatever it took. But right now? All he could focus on was the fact that Liam wasn’t attached at his hip, no longer getting shuffled from class to class, with the help of Amanda watching him when he had a lecture, or a shift. He didn’t have to drop out now, to take care of things, but he also didn’t understand how he could go back to school. Not with Debbie and Carl, though they were excuses now. Lip could go back and balance, but he couldn’t. 

            He wasn’t going to fuck up like she did. Frank had made it all about him, and of course Monica came out of the woodwork, which only exacerbated things. Which only had him seething with rage, spit flying out of his mouth as the words laced with hatred bombarded anyone who so much as said the wrong thing.  SO HE IGNORED HER. “Y’ever seen a casket for a kid before?” He hadn’t slept last night, not knowing he had to come here to see her. Hell, he hadn’t really slept since he watched it sink into the ground, goodbye to Liam forever. He’d been at his fucking side when he died. He’d been the one holding his fucking hand. He felt him go. The lack of sleep had his his anger at bay, he was almost emotionless; at least to the naked eye. Anyone who hadn’t spent years with him. 

                      It was brewing under the surface, ready to snap at the drop of a pin. He’d screamed at Fiona, cursed her out, properly illustrated what a horrible fucking person she was, but today? Today he didn’t have it in him.

           Lip’s eyes were glossy, unmoving from Fiona’s as she clung onto the phone for dear fucking life. “I hadn’t. Hadn’t ever wanted to.” And now because of it? Debbie and Carl were going to get he helicopter parent bullshit because they weren’t coping so well and with the Gallagher genes? Didn’t need either of them flying off the fucking walls. “Ians gone now. Don’t know where. He just left, isn’t picking up his phone either.” Which was completely Fiona’s fault in his eyes. Everything was now. She single handedly disrupted the balance in which they had been hanging in. Precariously at best, but they were making it. “Hope he’s not dead too.” And if he was, it’d be Fiona’s fault as well. 

            “This is the last time I’m comin’ here. I can’t look at you anymore. And comin’ here? It’s too much money. The funeral FOR LIAM was over four grand.” Four grand they didn’t have, which Fiona knew, but it wasn’t even about the money anymore. “Don’t worry, I took care of it. I’ll take care of them too.” Unlike you. And that was all she got before the phone he’d been limply holding was slammed down on the receiver hanging off the wall. Wordlessly, Lip rose, not giving her a second glance before walking away for the final time as the tears finally spilled. At least for now. Until he sorted it out. Until he caught his breath, which would be never because every fucking time he closed his eyes, all he saw was Liam laying in the hospital bed before the steady beeping turned to a flat line and the world fell off it’s fucking axis.