Author's Notes:
I have two passions in my creative life right now – Shameless and Cyberpunk 2077. Cyberpunk came first. I have only recently begun watching Shameless. I truly cannot believe that I managed to miss this amazing show for so long. I could not help but immediately picture Terry Milkovich as the leader of the 6th Street Gang (I hate both he and the gang in almost equal amounts). I wanted Terry dealt with my way, and this story will help me accomplish just that.
This will be a very AU story. I will include several members of the Milkovich family and nearly every character you meet in Cyberpunk 2077. However, the Gallagher clan will only have 2 representatives for the most part – Ian and his "sister" (my own original character creation). Others may be added later as the story progresses. Ian's "sister" is the drive behind the tale and its main protagonist. Ian is her "baby" brother. They are family and no one will ever harm him while she has the breath to stop it.
The title comes from the song "Rockabye" by Clean Bandit. The moment I heard it I knew it would be the anthem for giving everything to the one you love the most.
This story will not leave me until it is told. I hope you enjoy the long and twisting ride!
Chapter 1
June 2064
"You test the patience of the most blessed saints, Gustavo," Sebastian "Padre" Ibarra said as they made their way toward El Coyote Cojo for a late-night drink. The sidewalks were slick from a recent rain and the duo skirted puddles as they talked. Padre never liked lecturing the young Valentinos under his care (though most would not believe it). In his mind they should all know how to conduct themselves. Any time spent schooling them on their mistakes was money lost.
"Wasn't just me…" Gustavo began. He quickly closed his mouth at the sideways glance he received from his mentor. If there was one thing Padre hated more than anything else, it was a refusal to own up to one's own mistakes. "Jackie and the guys were there backing me up."
Padre stopped abruptly and stared at Orta; his eyes flashing angrily in the blinking neon lights. "All that tells me," the older man huffed out, "is that I need to keep you all working harder than you are. If you have time to pick useless fights with Maelstrom goons outside the Totentanz then you have time to take more jobs to enrich the lives of your neighbors here in Heywood."
"But Jackie…" Gustavo began. He quickly closed his mouth as Padre's frown deepened.
"You needn't concern yourself with what Jackie thought," the fixer said. "Or what he did. I plan on speaking to him once we get into the bar. And I can assure you that Mama Welles will have something to say to the both of you."
Orta's eyes widened at Padre's declaration. The Valentino boys never backed down from a fight. They were practically fearless. But one stern look from Guadalupe "Mama" Welles could send them all fleeing. And Padre knew it.
"Padre, please…" Orta started when suddenly his attention was drawn to a noise coming from the alley next to the bar. He quickly reached behind his back, removing his gun from its holster and releasing the safety. Padre did the same. They shared a silent nod and moved carefully toward the nearby dumpsters.
"Shhh…" a quiet voice spoke from behind a stack of wooden crates. "It's alright, my sweet." Gustavo looked at Padre, his eyebrows raised in interest. The sound of quiet coos and a soft melody rose to meet them. "I know you are hungry. I promise we will get something soon."
Padre lowered his gun slowly and motioned for Orta to do the same. "Just a beggar," he mouthed. They were turning to leave when the sharp cry of a baby rose behind them. Gustavo made to raise his gun again and the older man pushed his arm back down, a furious scowl on his face. Who in the Lord's name raises a gun to a baby?
Inching closer, Padre cleared his throat. The soft, comforting noises ceased, and the alley was wrapped in silence. "Hello?" he spoke quietly. "Is there someone there? Are you alright?" The silence was now deafening. He knew something was wrong but was not sure exactly how to proceed. He stepped closer and peered around the metal container.
Gustavo kept his gun drawn but made no move to raise it again. He may be young and foolish, but he knew to follow the former priest's orders as they were given. He peered over Padre's shoulder into the darkened alcove and gasped aloud. "Santa Madre Maria…"
Crouched behind the crates was a young girl of no more than thirteen or fourteen years of age. She was obviously a street urchin; her face dirty and clothes tattered and worn. Her long red hair was pulled atop her head in a series of braids with strands falling forward into her bright green eyes. Eyes that shone with a determination and fury that the young Valentino had rarely ever seen.
Gustavo was so focused on those emerald pools of light that he failed at first to see the glistening blade that the girl held out toward Padre and himself. The older man, however, saw the danger and slowly backed away, taking Orta with him.
"Let's all stay calm," Padre said, his voice low and soothing. "We mean you no harm, my child." He slowly placed his gun back in its holster and motioned for Gustavo to do the same. The young man complied; though he wasn't exactly sure that it was a good idea. The girl was quite young, but he had seen his share of children with the capacity to injure or kill.
Padre knelt near the girl; his hands held up so she could see that he was currently unarmed. He took a moment to look her over. She was quite skinny, dark circles under her eyes. Proper nourishment was hard to come by for orphans in Night City. The small amount of weight on her bones was all muscle, however. He somehow knew that this young one was more than capable of holding her own in a scrap.
"My name is Sebastian Ibarra," he said and smiled warmly at her. "But most people in Heywood call me Padre. This," he continued, gesturing over his shoulder at his companion, "is Gustavo Orta." The Valentino nodded, trying to give his most genuine smile. He remained silent, however. Best to let Padre handle this situation. The older man had a way with people that none of the Valentinos could hope to duplicate.
"Now you know who we are," Padre continued slowly. "Could I ask you for your name?"
The girl seemed to ponder his request. The knife was still held firmly before her. She was no fool. She had seen the guns brandished by both men. A street rat was never going to trust quickly or easily. She took several deep breaths and was opening her mouth to reply when a small cry pierced the silence of the moment.
Instantly the tension reappeared in her eyes and she held the knife more firmly in her grasp. Without taking her eyes off the men she reached behind her body and scooped up a small bundle, clutching it tightly to her chest. Orta's eyes widened as he saw a swatch of bright red hair peek out above the blue blanket. Fuck! he thought. Isn't she too young for a baby?
Padre's eyes softened and he slowly backed up a few more steps before carefully sitting down on the cold ground. "We will not touch you or the baby," he said kindly. "I only want to help if I can. A girl of your age should not be on the streets with a child. It is dangerous for both of you. Is there no one looking out for you?"
The girl looked down for a mere second at the baby in her arms before returning her gaze to them. "We don't need anyone else," she said defiantly. "He is mine. I am his. I look out for him. I protect him." Her voice was soft, deep and full of determination.
Padre sat silently for a moment, his eyes moving between the girl and the baby. He couldn't leave her out in the cold and rain. She was just a baby, herself. She would never survive on the streets with an infant in tow. Someone, somewhere had to be looking for her. Whether for good or ill… well, that was another matter altogether.
"I do not doubt that you can care for him," Padre said. "I am merely suggesting that we could help you in some way. Surely you would like a nice meal. Maybe even a clean set of clothes and a safe place to sleep? I am quite certain that the baby could use some milk, at least."
The girl glanced once more at the bundle in her arms, her eyes slowly filling with tears. She used the hand holding the knife to quickly wipe them away. "Just leave us alone," she whispered. "I will take care of us. I have no choice."
"There is always a choice, child," Padre replied. "Some are better than others and this one, for you, could save both yourself and the baby." He motioned for Gustavo to approach.
"Go to the bar," Padre instructed. "I need you to get Mama Welles and tell her to come outside. Have Pepe prepare some water and a plate of food and then bring them to me."
"Should I explain this to Mama Welles?" Orta asked. He wasn't exactly sure what he would say.
Padre shook his head. "It will be obvious to her when she arrives," he replied. "Just hurry." Gustavo backed carefully out of the alley; his gaze locked with the young girl. He didn't wish to startle her. But more than that – he couldn't look away from her beautiful eyes.
Padre motioned toward the bar with his hand and the Valentino finally turned and dashed off.
The expression on the girl's face changed from determination to fear. If the boy brought back more of his kind – if they tried to take him from her… She backed further into the corner and a small whimper passed her lips; her eyes darting around to find some way to escape. She wouldn't go back. Couldn't go back!
Fuck! Padre thought as he watched the frightened girl slowly slip into panic. He had to do something and fast or she may harm herself or the baby trying to escape. He once more held up his hands and shook his head. "No one is coming to cause you harm," he said. She looked back at him with a slight sneer on her face. "I know you don't believe that and, as I do not know your history, I cannot blame you for your distrust."
My history, she thought, staring down at the baby in her arms. He is my history. He is my present and my future. No one will ever take him from me. She drew in a deep breath and released it, her posture relaxing as she raised the knife once again. Her only escape route was through this stranger. It wouldn't be the first time in her short life that she killed out of necessity. She could do it again.
Padre sensed the change and a small smile crept onto his face. The streets hadn't robbed this one of her spirit. That is good. Mama Welles could work with that.
He only hoped Gustavo would bring her in time.
o~~~~~~~~o
The sounds of merriment and camaraderie filled Gustavo's ears as he rushed through the doors of El Coyote Cojo. Any other time the bustle and noise would calm his spirit. Not tonight. Padre was possibly in danger at this very moment. And the girl…
The green eyes momentarily filled his vision and he jerked to a halt. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts he looked around for Senora Welles. He saw her in the back of the bar, pacing and gesticulating at a young man seated before her on the sofa.
"Jaquito!" Mama bit out in exasperation. "What have I told you about messing with those monsters in Watson? Hm?" She stopped pacing and placed her hands on her hips. "You too good to answer your mama now?"
The teenager seated before her was large. A giant compared to many of his own age. His head was bowed, and he was playing with the cuff on his leather jacket – a clear indication of his anxiety. Jackie Welles was his mother's only remaining son. His brothers had all been killed in gang related skirmishes. His inclusion into the Valentinos wasn't accepted easily by his mother and, though she had adopted many of the gang members as her own "children", she had no problem bringing them to heel when they acted in a way that she found to be foolish or dangerous.
Gustavo realized that she knew about their fight earlier in the day with the Maelstrom goons and he dreaded approaching her. But this wasn't about him or his own discomfort. This was about helping Padre and the poor girl in the alley. He took a deep breath, stepped forward and cleared his throat.
Mama Welles turned to him, her hands still on her hips. She opened her mouth, preparing to begin her lecture, but stopped when she saw the look on his face. In a single moment, her demeanor changed from disciplinarian to concerned parent.
"What is wrong, Gustavo?" she asked quietly. Behind her Jackie looked up; the relief on his face at seeing his friend obvious in his deep green eyes.
"Padre is outside in the alley," he replied, gesturing to the front doors. "He asked me to come in and get you right away. There is a situation that he needs your help with." Her brow rose and she studied him for a moment before stepping closer.
"What kind of situation?" she asked. "Do I need to bring anything with me?"
Gustavo shook his head. No weapons were necessary, at least not for Mama Welles. Padre had his pistol (please, Blessed Virgin, do not make him use it…) and he was certain that any danger could be handled by the former priest. "I need to speak to Pepe to get some items, but you will be fine as you are," he replied.
Jackie stood and moved toward them. He heard the word "situation" and didn't want his mama to be in harm's way. "I can go with you," he offered.
Gustavo shook his head. "No, you can't," he replied. He held up a hand to stop Jackie from arguing. "Trust me on this one, hermano. Mama is the help that Padre needs. You can come with me to get the stuff from Pepe. And we need to move now!" The Valentino turned and headed toward the bartender without another word.
"Go help Gustavo," Guadalupe instructed, patting Jackie on the shoulder. "I will go outside and see what is happening. Once you have whatever it is that Padre needs you can join me there." Her son nodded and followed his friend into the bar area.
Mama Welles squared her shoulders and headed through the front door. Life was never dull in Heywood.
o~~~~~~~~o
"Do I look like a line cook to you?" Pepe was saying to Gustavo as Jackie approached the bar. The older man was cleaning some whiskey glasses while shaking his head.
Gustavo didn't have time to argue. Each moment he was away was another moment that Padre (or the girl) could be harmed. He leaned across the bar, his face now inches from the former Valentino. "No," he began. "You look like someone who owes Kirk a lot of money. Padre has agreed to fix that for you. You sure you want to refuse a request from the man offering to help you, estupido?"
Jackie's eyes widened in surprise. Pepe was a formidable man, and no one ever used such disrespect when speaking to him. It could be dangerous to their health. Whatever Gustavo wanted was certainly important to warrant such a threat. The bartender's nostrils flared, and Jackie was certain that a fight would erupt between the two. Instead, Pepe threw down his towel and turned, heading to the kitchen.
"Fine," he grumbled. "I will get your damned food. But I'm doing it for Padre – not you." The doors to the kitchen slammed shut behind him, drawing the attention of the nearby customers.
"What the fuck, Gus?" Jackie asked. "You wanna get killed? Pepe isn't the kind to forget that shit."
Gustavo waved his hand dismissively. "That asshole's feelings aren't my concern right now," he said. "Believe me, man. When you see what we got outside you will agree with me."
Gustavo and Jackie joined the Valentinos together as soon as they were old enough to properly hold a gun. As such they were trained together, fought together, went on gigs for Padre together. Their bond was strong as if they were brothers. When one spoke a truth the other took it without question. So, if Gustavo was serious about the situation in the alley, Jackie would follow his lead.
The teens waited in silence for Pepe to return. The bartender finally stepped through the door, a plate and a glass in his hands. He laid them on the bar and stepped back, glaring at Orta. Gustavo's eyes flashed blue, and Pepe appeared temporarily stunned as his own followed suit. He never expected payment for the food.
"Just because I'm an asshole doesn't mean I don't appreciate help," Gustavo said as he took the dishes and turned toward the door. Jackie smiled at Pepe and turned to follow his friend.
"Jackie! Where you goin'?" The Valentinos were almost out the door when a voice called from the nearby stairs. They turned to see a young boy rushing toward them. His spiked blond hair bounced as he came to a stop; grey eyes sparkling with delight. "Can I come, too?"
"Not this time, V," Gustavo said in a voice far softer than he ever used with anyone else. What could he say? He liked the kid. "Jackie and I need to handle a situation for Padre, and you aren't ready for that yet."
"How dangerous can a situation be when you handle it with a sandwich?" the boy retorted irritably. Jackie shrugged. He had a valid point.
Gustavo ruffled V's hair and smiled. "Just trust me, ok?" he requested. V huffed but nodded. He spent most of his time with the two older boys. They never treated him like a child; always inviting him along on their adventures when it was appropriate. Thus, when they gave him orders, he followed them without much complaint.
"V!" The boys turned around to see Pepe motioning to the young man. "Come and help me clean the bar!" V instantly smiled and dashed off to join the bartender. Pepe locked eyes with Gustavo and nodded just once.
"Let's go," Orta said and pushed through the bar doors into the night. "Been gone too long as it is."
o~~~~~~~~o
Upon leaving the boys to their errand inside the bar, Mama Welles stepped outside and cocked her head, listening closely to the night around her. Padre's voice could be heard in the nearby alleyway and she headed toward him; wondering with whom he was conversing. She was surprised to see him sitting on the ground, speaking quietly to an unknown individual. Curious…
"You needn't attack and run, child," he said softly, his eyes reflecting the light of the nearby streetlight. "I swear to you that no one will hurt you. Not here." He gestured toward the veiled figure. "And no one will take him from you."
Deciding it would be best to approach slowly, Mama Welles stepped far away from the dumpster and came up to stand behind Ibarra. "Padre," she began quietly. "Gustavo said that you need my assistance. What can I…"
She looked past the priest and gasped; her hand quickly covering her chest as she gazed upon the young girl wielding the knife. "Santa Madre María! Es un bebé?" she exclaimed.
"Si," Padre replied. The girl was looking suspiciously between the two of them and he realized that she couldn't understand anything that they were saying. "Gustavo and I discovered this young lady and we offered to help her find a safe place to rest, away from this cold and rain. Our presence, however, seems to cause her more distress than comfort. I was hoping you could help with that."
Mama Welles smiled softly and nodded. She motioned for Padre to move away. He carefully stood and backed up to the opposite side of the alley. Mama noted the way the girl's eyes followed the older man. The tension in her shoulders seemed to ease with each inch of separation.
Guadalupe Welles is a woman in Night City. She knows the signs. She has walked that path and seen many other women in similar situations. This child has been hurt by a man. Some man. Somewhere. In any number of ways. Her blood boiled to think of someone so young left to her own devices with an infant because remaining at home could potentially destroy her.
"My name is Guadalupe Welles," she began and smiled when the young girl's gaze moved from Padre to her. "My friends and family call me Mama. I do not expect you to instantly accept friendship from any of the people you have met this evening or any that you have yet to meet. The fact that you are alive and relatively unscathed with a baby in your arms tells me that you know the dangers of trusting anyone without verifiable proof of their intentions."
Padre watched in awe as the girl's lips crept up into a small smile. She did not lower the knife, but the fear was slowly vanishing from her eyes.
Mama looked up into the sky and shook her head. "I do not like the looks of those clouds," she said slowly. "It will be a cold night and more rain is sure to fall. I would be a terrible person if I allowed you to remain in the dark when my bar – my home – is only a few simple steps away. Please, my child, come inside. For tonight only if you wish. You may keep your weapon, and no one will interfere with you or the baby…"
"Ian," the girl whispered, hugging the infant to her chest. "His name is Ian."
Mama smiled. "A strong name," she said. "It means 'God is gracious', if I am not mistaken." The girl's smile widened, and she bent down to kiss the tuft of red hair peeking above the blanket. The baby – Ian – cooed and stretched out his tiny arms toward the girl's face.
Padre felt his breath catch at the sight before him. Even in the dirtiest of cities, the darkest of nights, God finds a way to bring beauty to the world.
"So you know my name, and I know Ian's," Mama said slowly. She didn't want to push the girl too fast and lose the ground she had gained. "Would it be too much to ask for your name now?"
The girl bit her lower lip, pondering the question. After a minute she opened her mouth. "It's…"
The sound of approaching feet broke the stillness of the night. The girl's eyes shot up and she once more clutched Ian to her breast. Light glittered on the edge of the knife as she swung it toward the noise.
Mama looked up and saw Gustavo and Jackie coming around the corner with the food and water. She held up her hand and they froze instantly. "Take the food to Padre, boys," she said quietly. "And move slowly, if you please."
Jackie looked confused, but that was often the way of things. He had a heart of gold and was strong as a bear, but he wasn't always the quickest when it came to practical matters. Gustavo nodded and the duo moved slowly to stand at the fixer's side. "Keep quiet, no matter what you see," Gustavo whispered to his friend. He was certain that Jackie's size alone would terrify the girl. His booming voice may well send her into a panic – and panic meant a potential fight.
Mama ignored the new arrivals and turned back to the young girl. Her eyes were wide with fright and her hands were shaking slightly. Her focus, as expected, was on Jackie.
"Holy shit!" Jackie whispered; his gaze locked with the girl. Then, in a move that was all "Jackie", he smiled shyly and addressed her. "Hi."
Mama laughed and the girl's attention was once more returned to her. "That is my son, Jaquito," she explained. "He is big, I grant you, but very sweet. I assume you met Gustavo earlier." The girl looked up at Orta and he was once again drawn to her lovely eyes. She nodded.
"The boys brought you some food and water," Mama continued. "And while I would be happy to sit out here while you eat, if that is your preference, this ground isn't the softest on my old bones. Perhaps we could go inside, and I promise that I will find you a safe and quiet place to clean up, eat your fill and rest. I will also have some formula brought in for Ian. I imagine he will be hungry soon."
The girl's eyes darted from one stranger to another, then came to rest on the baby in her arms. It was obvious that these people weren't going to let them be. At least not for the evening. And, despite her misgivings, she needed a bath, some food and one decent night's rest. And Ian… he needed so much more. She would sacrifice her own sense of security to see that he received everything that he required.
Still, she could not agree to anything without a few guarantees. She took a deep breath and looked up at Mama Welles.
"I keep my weapon?"
The woman nodded. "Of course."
"Ian never leaves my side."
"No one will touch either of you."
"This room – it has locks?" She flinched as she saw the pity in the woman's eyes.
"Yes, mija," she replied. "Very sturdy locks. And I will remain outside if you wish. Just me."
"Then I accept." Mama Welles' smile was the most genuine she had seen since… well, she couldn't think of that now.
Mama stood up slowly and moved back to stand with the Valentinos. She didn't want to crowd the young woman as she rose from the ground. There was a look of gratitude on the girl's face as she slowly stood. The grace with which she moved while jostling both Ian and the knife was impressive to all who witnessed the action. She brushed off her torn jeans and slipped the knife into the leather sheath strapped on her thigh.
She grabbed a duffel bag that was tucked behind the dumpster and moved a couple steps closer to the gathered spectators. Mama smiled and motioned toward the back of the bar.
"Why don't we use the rear entrance," she suggested. "Privacy is important to you and I cannot imagine that you wish to simply stroll through the front doors." The girl nodded.
"One last thing," Mama said as they began slowly moving toward the door. The girl stopped and looked at her. "You were just about to give me your name."
The girl smiled softly; her head held high. "Brielle," she said. "My name is Brielle."
Padre and Mama looked at each other and chuckled softly. "What's so funny?" Gustavo asked. He personally thought the name was the most beautiful he had ever heard. A magical name to match magical eyes…
Mama smiled brightly at the teens. "Warrior of God," she simply said.
Yes, Padre thought as they entered the bar. Mama could definitely work with that.