paper bag ( lip gallager )

chapter 16 : making the bed

Yet, it was equally evident that being a child, one could be unsure about what they truly wanted, torn between their innate connection with a mother and the chaos she inevitably brought with them. Debbie's internal struggle was a testament to the profound complexity of family dynamics.

"But Monica is back..."

She didn't want to tell a child that she shouldn't want to be around her troubled mom because that would be like talking to a chalkboard that had nothing but unknown words on it. But under everything, Monica was an addict. 

"Look, it's alright. I'm sure there is a reason for her returning" Y/n held onto the little girl. Y/n gives Debbie's back a reassuring pat. "I know it must be hard on you to see her again. But don't worry. Fiona is here"

Debbie hugged Y/n almost with nothing but love as Y/n felt the little girl squeezing around her digging her head into her stomach. It hurt her, to see someone in the position that she was in before still not knowing what she should be doing for herself. 

༶ 

Y/n stepped into her own home, with Emmy trailing closely behind her. She was intent on shielding her little sister from the inevitable chaos that came with Monica's presence, recognizing that Emmy wasn't yet mentally prepared to grapple with the turbulent waters of their family's history. At this moment, Y/n's priorities were firmly centred on her sister's well-being, even if it meant momentarily setting aside the demands of the Gallaghers.

As she crossed the threshold into the house, a disconcerting scene unfolded before her. Lucy, perched on the couch, cradled a bottle of wine, the television blaring at full volume as if she cared not a whit about the impression they made on the neighbourhood. The room was plunged into darkness, save for the eerie glow cast by the television's flickering light.

Y/n couldn't bear the thought of letting Lucy in on the knowledge that Monica had returned to town. She remembered all too well the pandemonium that had ensued in the past, and she was determined to protect Emmy from the emotional whirlwind that would inevitably follow.

"Emmy, dear c'here" Lucy opened her arms for her daughter; Emmy turned looking at Y/n and the teenager to do nothing but nod. Emmy doubtfully walked over to Lucy and hugged her mom sitting in her arms and watching whatever reality television show was on. 

Y/n ventured deeper into the house, her footsteps gradually fading as she entered the dimly lit kitchen. She opened the refrigerator, the soft hum of its motor punctuating the silence. Her gaze swept across the interior, and she eventually plucked a beer from the chilled shelves.

As she headed toward the back of the house, she caught sight of her dad, Owen, sitting at the kitchen table. He was lost in thought, a cigarette in hand, wisps of smoke curling into the air. His distant gaze fixated on the backyard as if searching for something beyond the immediate view.

Concerned for her father, Y/n seized the opportunity to offer him company. She took the beer with her, carefully closing the fridge door behind her. The moment she stepped outside, the brisk, frigid air nipped at her uncovered arms. She quietly approached Owen, her footsteps creating a faint rustling of leaves on the ground. She handed him the beer and took a seat beside him, a comforting presence amid his contemplation.

"You're home late," Owen pointed out, causing Y/n to grow silent. "I'm not mad, just worried." 

Sighing, she knew that telling her dad wasn't worse compared to telling Lucy. "Monica's back- so..." Owen snapped his head in the direction of Y/n before turning and taking a hit of his cig, Y/n sipped the beer in her hands trying to bring comfort to the silence between them.