So I was having a discussion on Tumblr with this lady and we thought it would be very cute if Sheila stepped up to care for Ian. So here we go.
Precious Boy
Sheila Jackson was used to being needed, used to being a mother. She wanted that again more than anything, and not being able to adopt the Indian kids really took a toll on her. So it perked her up when Mickey and Fiona asked her for her help with Ian.
She had moved Ian into her home, in Karen's old room. It was pristine, the cleanest room Ian had ever been in. Mickey made sure it had soft enough pillows and blankets; he only wanted Ian to have the best.
"He'll be fine, Mickey, don't worry, and you can visit as much as you like," Sheila says.
"I just need some rest. This isn't permanent, lady, so don't get attached," says Mickey.
"Are you sure you can do this?" Fiona asks.
Sheila notices how stressed out she looks. She and Mickey have been working hard to get Ian well. It's taken a toll on both of them. Fiona leans over and kisses Ian. He shrugs and pulls away from her.
"I'll be back in a few days," says Fiona, "Come on, Mick."
"I'm only leaving you now so I don't have to again," Mickey tells Ian. He kisses his cheek before leaving with Fiona.
Sheila makes Ian comfortable. She gives him his medicine every day by putting it in a shake and forcing him to drink it. By force she means sweetly persuading him to take it, and then she watches him sleep.
He's a beautiful boy, she thinks to herself after staring at him for so long. Ian was only eighteen. He had been through so much in such a short time it didn't seem fair. Why was it him who was going through this? She didn't know Ian well but always thought he was a sweet boy.
"Sleep well, Ian, we'll see how you feel tomorrow," Sheila says.
It takes a couple of days for Ian to start coming around. Sheila walked in to give him a sponge bath when she found him sitting up in Karen's bed. He was staring blankly at the wall. Sheila sat down on the side of the bed and took in the messy, sad, sickened sight of him.
"Good morning, Ian," she says.
"Where's Mickey?"
"He's working; he called and said he'll be by for dinner. I hope you'll join us. I went shopping and bought you some clothes. I tried to avoid red because of your hair, but I got greens and blues to make your eyes really pop, and Mickey said you look really good in yellow. I had to ask Debbie for your measurements. I figured you could clean up and join Mickey and me for dinner tonight if you feel up to it."
"Why are you being so nice to me?"
"Because you're a sweet boy who needs some motherly care," Sheila says touching a lose strand of hair and moving it out of his face. She caresses his cheek lightly and smiles warmly at him.
"I'm not sweet. I've done things."
"The past is in the past, honey. I'm going to make breakfast. You can eat it in bed, but only this once. Is your pillow comfy enough?"
"Yes," says Ian watching her with intrigue.
Sheila returns to a very wet, Ian. He has a towel around his waist. Sheila beams to see him out of bed fully. He looks skinny and weak from not eating. He collapses on the floor and she sits the food down on the bed before tending to him.
Ian begins to sob quietly. Sheila takes him by the shoulders and pulls him in close and rocks him back and forth. Ian stills. He stops moving and stops sobbing. Sheila feels him wrap his arms around her and press his face into her chest next to her heart. She rubs his back.
"Shh, hush, it's going to be okay. You're fine."
"I've never been held like that before," says Ian after Sheila stops rocking him.
"Monica never rocked you in her arms?"
"No. Fiona has, but it doesn't feel the same. This would be the first time."
Monica is no mother. How could she leave this precious boy? He's so tender, and fragile and sweet. That woman disgusts me. She did this to him. This is her disease. She gave it to this prince.
"You're a really good mother," says Ian wiping his eyes. He climbs onto his bed and digs into his breakfast. When it hits his mouth his eyes begin to water, "This is delicious."
"I wish my daughter felt that way."
"Karen's a bitch. Sorry. It needed to be said."
"So is Monica," says Sheila. She kisses the side of Ian's face and stares at him. "Eat up, sweetie. I want you to try on your new clothes for me."
Ian gave Sheila a little fashion show in all the new clothes she had bought for him. He would try them on in the bathroom and model them for her in Karen's room.
"You will look so handsome for Mickey tonight," says Sheila doting on him. She straightens the collar on one of the bright blue shirts. She went with cerulean. It brought his eyes and it didn't clash too horribly with his hair.
"You know about that?"
"Oh, yes, honey."
"And you're okay with it?"
"Why wouldn't I be?"
Ian beamed at her. "Want to go for a walk? I haven't walked in a few days."
"Try weeks," says Sheila.
Sheila gets dressed and Ian waits for her in the new jeans she bought for him. They were a perfect fit. Sheila had done her homework well. She was just happy to see him on his feet.
"Now, I'm not comfortable yet going everywhere, but we can walk in this neighborhood if you want. I know it's not the safest neighborhood," says Sheila.
"Let's go to the park," says Ian. Sheila nods.
"It's a nice day. I know it's still cold, but it's warming up a bit."
"Yeah, it's beautiful."
Sheila took Ian's hand. She admired how big his hands were and how strong they were. She admired his height, and took in the redness of his hair with the sun shining on it. Sheila had always wanted a son, someone to carry on her husband's name. She wanted a strapping son who she could adore. But she and Eddie only had Karen.
He looks nothing like Frank. Lip looks like Frank, this one doesn't.
"Frank's not actually my father," says Ian as if reading her mind.
"Really?"
"Monica had an affair in 1995. I guess I'm the product of that. My father is one of Frank's brothers. Clayton. That's my middle name."
"Monica doesn't deserve you," Sheila says, patting Ian on the arm.
"I stayed with her for a while when I left the military."
"And she enabled your bad habits. I know all about it. Let's not talk about that woman any more, sweetie."
After their walk they returned to Sheila's house, which was occupied by Sammie, Chucky, and Frank. They were sitting on the couch (the new one Sheila bought after Sammie sold her old one). Ian froze for a moment.
"What the fuck are they doing here? They're going to ruin everything."
"Hi, Ian, what are you doing here?" Sammie asks, standing up to hug her half-brother. He pulls away from her.
"Why are they here, Sheila? What about my date tonight? No. They're going to ruin it. Frank ruins everything."
Ian ran upstairs. Sheila heard the door to Karen's room slam shut. She ran up after Ian. He was pacing the room getting worked up over nothing. Sheila put her hands on his arm, and began to rub them.
"Ian, honey, what's wrong?"
"I don't want them here. They're going to ruin my date with Mickey."
"I will ask them to leave," Sheila says, "Just promise me you'll calm down. You don't need to get so worked up. Take your meds and I will make them leave. I'll bring you up some cookies later."
Ian sits down on the bed while Sheila goes downstairs. She sees Sammie and Frank haven't moved from their spots on the couch. They are laughing about something, until Sheila walks in.
"Mickey finally kick Ian out?" Frank asks. "Is he mooching off you now?"
"For your information, your son Ian has maniac depression and bipolar disorder. He's unstable, Frank. And your presence here is triggering him and I think you should go."
"Go? I used to live here. We're married, Sheils."
"No. That was a fake marriage. I wanted to adopt some Native American children and needed a husband to do so. It was fake. You're still married to Monica."
"But still, Sheils it's cold out," Frank says.
"No, Frank. That sweet young boy upstairs needs me more than you do right now."
"He's not your son, Sheila," says Sammie.
"You know, Sammie, I don't remember asking for your opinion. And no, he's not my son, but he's my guest, and Fiona and Mickey asked me to care for him and that's what I'm doing."
"Isn't Mickey that scary guy with FUCK tattooed on his knuckles?" Chucky asks. Sheila couldn't be angry at Chucky. He was a good kid. She smiled at him.
"Sheila," says Ian from the stairs. He was biting his nails and staring at her. She met him at the bottom of the stairs. He crossed his arms and took a step off the end of the stairs.
"Ian, sweetie, is everything okay?"
"You ungrateful little brat, I am being asked to leave because of you," says Frank.
"Are you drunk, Frank?"
"I wish," says Frank and he and Sammie laugh like it's the funniest thing. Sheila looks at Ian who is about to uncork and spiral out of control. She can see it in his eyes.
"Get out, Frank. Ian, sweetie, please go upstairs and hang up your clothes that I bought you, I don't want them to wrinkle."
Ian nodded. He gave Frank the finger and walked back upstairs. Sheila folded her arms across her chest and tapped her foot repeatedly. "Get out of my house!"
"Sheila, my trailer is not big enough for all three of us. We won't get in Ian's way."
"Shut up, Sammie. It's not about getting in his way, it's about triggering him. It's taken weeks to get him out of bed and he has a date tonight that he's really looking forward to. If you don't leave my house right now I will get Mickey over here to escort you out."
"I'm not scared of Mickey Milkovich," says Frank.
"I am," says Chucky.
"Can Chucky stay?" Sammie asks.
"You'll have to ask Ian," says Sheila.
"No fucking way," shouts Ian from the top of the stairs. Sheila knew he'd be listening.
"We'll leave for now. But I think it's shitty of you to toss us out," says Sammie, "Because one of the Gallagher's is sick and you're suddenly acting like it's your business."
"Listen here, Sammie, those children have had it tough, especially Ian. They have shitty parents who don't give a shit. Fiona, bless her heart, stepped up at fifteen to take of everyone. She's never had anything for herself. So, yes, if I can help the Gallagher's in any way I am going to. That precious boy upstairs told me he's never been comforted and rocked by his mother," Sheila says, sounding on the brink of tears, which takes away from her normal happy demeanor.
"They were held by their mother. Don't let them fool you, they're tricky. They are my offspring," says Frank. "I am not leaving."
Sheila took out her phone and began to dial. The voice on the other end came through loud and clear and it was pretty obvious who she was talking to.
"Mickey, hi, it's Sheila. Yes, Ian's awake and looking forward to your date tonight. Can you do me a favor? I have some squatters and I need them to leave. They're triggering Ian. Yes it is Frank. Okay, bye."
Ian got into an argument with Sammie that was causing him to react. Sheila stayed on his side rubbing his shoulders and trying to sweetly calm him down. It wasn't until Mickey showed up that anyone began to listen.
"Get the fuck out," says Mickey in Frank's face.