Disclaimer: I still don't own Shameless.
Another (Major) Bump in the Road-Chapter 2
Fiona trudges down the stairs tiredly after she hears Debbie reprimand Sonia once again for picking Kelsey up half an hour late.
"Everything good, Deb?" Fiona asks her younger sister as the redhead starts picking up the toys that are scattered around the living room.
Debbie nods her head. "Quiet day. Pauly got a bead stuck up his noise. But, we got it out after making him sniff a bunch of pepper."
"Was Carl helpful?" Fiona asks as she walks into the kitchen to get dinner started.
"I guess if you call him having a farting contest with the kids helping, then I guess you can say he was."
"Where are Carl and Liam?" Fiona asks with a hint of alarm in her voice. Carl is the kid you always need to keep tabs on.
"They're out in the pool," Debbie says as she walks into the kitchen and places Yevy in Liam's high chair.
Fiona takes out a baking sheet and puts some chicken nuggets and tater tots on it. "Hey! Why is Yevy still here? Where the hell is Mickey?"
Debbie shrugs her shoulders. "Don't know. Haven't seen him since he dropped off Yevy this morning."
"Ian?" Fiona asks.
"Still in bed." Debbie answers as she takes out dishes for dinner. "He was throwing up earlier when Carl went up to their room to hide his slingshot from Danny."
"Damn!" Fiona curses. Ian doesn't get sick often, but when he does it's bad. High fevers. A cough here and there turns into a bout of pneumonia. A small ear ache turns into a raging ear infection. After placing the baking sheet with the night's dinner in the oven, she gives Debbie her cell phone. "I'm gonna check on Ian. You, call Mickey. Tell him to get over here and get his kid. I don't care if he and Ian are fucking. I'm charging him for baby –sitting services. And I'm gonna tack on a late pick-up fee," Fiona turns and is already heading upstairs.
With her back to her younger sister Fiona doesn't see the disgusted look on Debbie's face as she makes the call. "Hey, Mickey…."
Ian is moving restlessly on his scratchy sheets. He feels like he's boiling from the inside out. He tries to move to a cooler place in his bed, but he can't. Everything is hot. Too hot. He kicks off the blankets in hopes of finding some relief. He needs some water. He cracks open his eyes as he rolls over to try and locate his watery salvation, but when the brightness of the hot, summer sun hits him, he quickly snaps them shut. Fuck.
Where the hell is Mickey? Didn't he say he was gonna come by this morning?
His thoughts quickly dissolve into something more pressing when his stomach rolls. He leans over his bed towards the bowl that Lip brought to him earlier when his brother checked in on him. When nothing comes up, Ian rolls away from the bowl. His body shivers. "Fuck."
"How you feeling, monkey?"
Ian lets out a hiss of pain when he tries to move his head to see who's talking to him. Seeing the tired eyes of his older sister, Ian attempts to sit up. "Been better."
"I believe that. You look like shit." Fiona says as she takes a seat on Ian's bed. She holds out her hand to her brother's forehead to gauge his fever. She is instantly alarmed when he leans into her cooler touch, instead of twisting away from it like he usually does when he's sick. "Still warm. When was the last time you took your temp?"
Ian squints his eyes in concentration trying to think of the answer. "Don't know. A while ago. Took it when Lip got me some more water."
Fiona's eyebrows quirks in confusion. "Lip? He's back?"
"Back?" Ian questions.
"Yeah, remember? He and Amanda went on a fireworks run?" Fiona explains.
Ian nods his head as his fevered mind slowly processes what Fiona just said.
"Oh, Ian." Fiona says as she runs her hand through his sweaty locks. "You're really not doing so hot."
Ian stays silent as his mind tries to make sense of what is going on. He remembers coming back to the house to get some sleep because between Mickey and Svetlana's yelling and Yevgeny's crying only made his headache worse. But, didn't Mickey say he was gonna come by in the morning? And he clearly remembers one of his brother's checking on him. Wasn't that Lip? What the hell is going on? With his head frantically trying to figure this out, he doesn't even realize that Fiona has put the thermometer in his ear until it beeps.
"103.8," Fiona says sadly. "We gotta get that temp down."
Ian attempts to nod his head in agreement with her, but stops when nodding becomes too much for his aching head.
"Here, kiddo." Fiona says holding out a couple of aspirin and the glass of water.
Ian takes the offered pills and drinks greedily from the glass, only stopping when Fiona pulls the glass away. "Easy, Ian. Don't want you to get sick again. Trying to keep you hydrated."
Fiona lets out a sigh while Ian lays back down wrapping his sheet firmly around him, closing his eyes.
Feeling her weight leaving his bed, Ian asks "Where are you goin'?"
"Shhh, be back in a sec."
Before his fevered mind can ask her what she's doing, she's back. He lets out a moan when something cold is placed on his fevered brow. "Feels good," Ian whispers.
"Good," Fiona says softly.
Through the residual pounding in his head he can hear a commotion downstairs. He scrunches up his forehead in confusion. "What? What's going on?"
Fiona lets out a small chuckle. "Carl is just probably doing something to piss Debs off again. Probably taking more than his allotted share of the chicken nuggets."
The mention of food causes Ian's stomach to roll. He swallows quickly trying to keep the aspirin and water in his stomach. Seeing her brother's distress Fiona runs her thumb over Ian's unusually pale cheek. "Easy, Ian." She coos. "Just relax. I'm gonna get down there before there's a riot."
"Mickey?" Ian asks as Fiona runs her long fingers through his sweaty locks.
"He'll be back soon," Fiona reassures him. "He'll-"
"FIONA!"
"STOP IT!"
Ian can't help but let out a whimper when the sound of his siblings' yelling seems to be getting closer.
"Shhhh. It's okay, Ian." Fiona says as she removes her hand from his head. "Let me go handle them, you rest."
Ian's only response is to burrow himself further into his sheets.
By the time Lip is back in Illinois and has dropped Amanda off at one of her sorority sister's place, his youngest siblings are fully camped out on the couch watching some Shark Week special when he walks into the house.
"Hey, Lip." Deb greets, not even looking up from her legal pad, no doubt planning the next week's daycare activities and snacks.
"Hey," Lip says as he sits down, pulling Liam onto his lap. He looks around to see that Fiona and Ian are nowhere to be found. "Fiona at work?"
"Yeah," Carl says distractedly as his gaze remains on the tv screen where some shark is chowing down on its' prey.
"Ian back at Mickey's?" Lip asks.
Debbie shakes her head. "Still upstairs."
Lip bites his cheek in concern. Ian in bed for this long of time is never a good thing. "Mickey hasn't been around?"
"Not since this morning when he dropped Yevy off. No clue where he is. Called him before because Fiona had a fit when the baby was still here after pick up time. He didn't pick up so I left a message. Mandy ended up coming by to pick up Yevy." Debbie elaborates.
The concern that was laying in Lip's gut has turned into fear. Why isn't Mickey around? Whenever there's a problem with Ian, the ex-con is usually hovering around his brother. When Ian came home months ago, Mickey basically moved into their house. Making Ian coffee, sleeping on the floor by Ian's bed like a damn puppy. And most recently, Mickey would pace outside his bedroom door when Lip and the other Gallaghers would come by and visit when Ian was in his low and couldn't get out of bed.
So where the hell is he now? Did the two of them get into a fight? Lip wasn't home last night and when he came by the house to check everything this morning Ian was still in bed. And now Ian Is still in bed and Mickey's kid has come and gone. What the hell is going on?
"Is everyhitng….um okay with them?" Lip asks out loud.
"They're not fighting," Debs says.
"Then where the hell is Mickey? Thought that for sure with Ian sick he would be taking up residence here once again."
"There's some problems with the girls down at the Rub-n-Tug," Carl explains. "They threatened to go on strike or some shit if Kev and Mickey didn't do anything about the heat."
"How do you know this?" Lip asks.
"Vee told us when she came over to get more butt cream for the girls." Deb says.
"Ahhhh, the perils of being a pimp." Lip says with a snicker. He looks down at the toddler in his lap to see that Liam is tiredly rubbing his eyes and has his thumb in his mouth. "Looks like someone's ready for bed."
"Yeah, we decided to wait and let you put him to bed." Debbie says.
"Why?" Lip says standing up.
"You know how much of a dick Ian is when he's sick." Carl says.
Lip laughs. Carl's right. Ian does have a tendency to turn into a giant asshole when he gets sick. That explains why Liam is up way past his bed time. "You're just a bunch of chicken shits." Lip says as he makes his way upstairs and towards the boys' room.
Lip carefully opens the door to his darkened old room. He turns on the light and is instantly greeted with a string of curse words from the lump that is on his brother's old bed. "What the fuck!"
Lip shakes his head. Asshole Ian is out. He quietly places Liam in his bed before turning towards Ian. "How you feeling ass?"
Ian's answer goes unheard since his face is buried under his pillow. Lip moves closer to his ill's brother's bed. He doesn't need to be a doctor to know that Ian's burning up. He can feel the heat radiating off of his brother's body. He playfully slaps the back of Ian's calf. "Hey, ass!"
This time instead of incomprehensible muttering Ian answers by removing his head from under his pillow. "Mickey?"
Lip winces when he hears his brother's raspy voice. "I may be a dick, but I'm not the dick you want," Lip quips. He lets out a curse when Ian rolls over and looks at him. Ian looks like complete shit. His forehead is furrowed as if he's in pain. His eyes are squinted shut. His pale complexion has taken on almost ghostlike hue with the only color coming from the rouge that is on his cheeks that is no doubt the result of a fever.
Lip hands Ian the half-filled glass of water that is by the side of the bed. He looks nervously into the puke bowl and is relatively relieved to see that there's nothing in it.
Ian hands back his brother the empty glass after gulping down the rest of its contents. "Think I'm done puking."
"Yeah? That's good."
Ian shakes his head and places a hand on his forehead when the movement causes the headache to pulse with new agony. "Shhh, not so loud. My head is killing me."
"You're probably dehydrating with all the puking." Lip explains in a softer voice.
"Thanks, Dr. Oz for that piece of information." Ian retorts. "I already know that. Took about a dozen first aide classes in ROTC."
Lip sighs. Where the hell is Mickey? He had a long ass day with driving out to Indiana and dealing with Amanda's clinginess. The last thing he wants to do is deal with a whiny, sick Ian. "Yeah, well did any of those classes tell you not to be a dick when people are trying to help you?"
Both of them remain silent for a few minutes. But, the silence is quickly cut short when Liam starts thrashing and crying out. Another nightmare. A few seconds later Lip has the little boy in his arms comforting him. "Shhh, buddy. It's okay. It's okay." It only takes a couple of minutes until the little boy falls back asleep. Still rocking the toddler back and forth, Lip turns back to look at Ian who once again has his head buried under a pillow.
"Hey, I'm gonna keep Liam in my room for the night. That way you can rest, ok?" Lip says quietly.
Ian doesn't say anything but the gentle moving of the pillow that is covering his head tells Lip that he heard him. "Okay, I', gonna go put him to bed. Then I'll get you some more water. You want anything else?"
What sounds like a "no" is muffled and Lip takes his brother word for it. He quickly tucks Liam in his own bed and returns to his old room with the promised glass of water. When he turns the light off and goes to leave, he takes one last look at his brother who is moving restlessly in his bed. Something doesn't feel right. Maybe it's that big brother in him that feels helpless when he can't do anything to help out his siblings. Like when Liam got into Fiona's coke. Or when Debbie got into that mess with those bitches at school. When Carl almost got expelled. Or when Ian crashed hard all those months ago.
Whatever it is, this pit has taken residence in his gut. Sure, he's gonna go downstairs and have some beers and smoke some good weed, hoping that that pit will go away or at least lessen. And it will, but then it's gonna come back tenfold when Mickey fucking Milkovich comes barging into his room later that night….
