Drabble Fifty-Four : Grand Slam

Being scared sobered me up quick. Ian had been out the door maybe a minute before I trashed the remains of my behavior, went upstairs and grabbed the kid. Before I bolted out the front door and ran straight after him, Liam laughing as he bounced about against my side. I don't have to wonder where Ian's off to. It's pretty fucking clear to me what the guy means to do, and I have to stop him. Because as much as I'd like to put the blame on someone for my relapse, I can't let Ian accidentally kill Greg. Mostly because, if Reba taught me anything, it's that I'm responsible for my own actions. Secondly because I don't want Ian stripping his record because of my stupid ass.

So I run and Liam think this is the best thing since clean diapers. The kid slows me down enough that I lose track of Ian, screaming after him as I swerve through the streets. Ian's already boarded the El by the time I make it up the stairs.

"Fuck!" I call out, twirling around. A crowd of people look at me funny as I stand there, panting and cursing Liam for slowing me down too much. "You little shit," I hiss at Liam's goofy face. "Why am I even bringing you?" I ask, more to myself. I could have easily left the boy in his crib. Lip and Carl will be home soon. He'd have been fine. But I can't go back on my decision, so I stand there, waiting for the next transport.

It doesn't take that long. But certainly long enough that Ian's probably in Greg's part of Chicago by now.

When I get to Greg's neighborhood, the sun is only just setting. Liam's crying because he's tired. Or maybe he's hungry with a filthy diaper. Either way, I have no way of making him shut up. And he's weighing me down. I'm twice as exhausted, having run most of the time, than I would have been had Liam not been on me. Panting as I barely jog Greg's street, I can see Ian marching straight over the bed of flowers that Greg's adoptive mother paid a lot of money for.

He must have slowed his pace down at some point for me to be this caught up. Frantic, I sprint forward. My lungs are on fire and my legs might just give out.

Ahead of Ian, it's suddenly obvious to me that Greg's parents are home. The brand new mini-van is parked just outside the open garage door. And Greg? He's standing in front of the van, completely unaware, taking his jacket off and laughing with his kid neighbor. The little girl is pushing candy bars at him, and he hands her a five dollar bill.

Anyone would think Greg is an outstanding citizen. Buying school chocolates from little girls and shit. No one would suspect this is the guy who let me pound into him for smack every Friday night.

I'd yell at Ian to hold on and change his mind on this, but I can't hardly breathe, much less scream. I'm wheezy by the time I reach the driveway and stare wide eyed at Ian's bold approach to this. Had the situation been different, I may have gotten a stiffy. Standing still, I stare on as the gingered Gallagher stomps over and yanks startled Greg against the van.

Greg's eyes are the size of saucers. I can't really hear what he's rambling on about, but he's holding his arms out in surrender and self defense. To which Ian barks out something and knees this asshole right in the groin. Greg slides down the van, holding himself and groaning. Ian's next move is too fast for Greg to react.

The neighbor girl, she's screaming and running away, chocolates falling in a trail behind her. These innocent rich people. They haven't seen shit like this. Where I'm from, this is actually pretty tame.

The second time, Ian's knee connects with Greg's chin. And while Greg's reaching for his bitten lip, Ian pulls him up, simultaneously opening the van's door. With a look of determination and pure malice on his face, Ian Gallagher slams begging Greg's hand into the van door. Greg's scream is loud enough to alert his parents. Mr. and Mrs. they come running out the front door, alarmed, phone in hand as Mr. calls the cops.

Ian drops Greg like a sack of potatoes. He points down at Greg, running backward, while the guy clutches his ruined hand. What Ian threatens, I don't know. But I've never been so turned on. And it's awkward, being as I'm holding this whining kid. Thankfully, Ian rushes past and grabs Liam. He only glares at me for a second before we're running away, sirens coming at us in the distance.