Nightfall.
The Gallagher House.
After spending the entire afternoon scouring the newspaper for help-wanted ads and making endless phone calls, Fiona finally landed a job.
It was cleaning up sewage and hazardous waste.
Most people wouldn't touch a gig like that unless they had absolutely no other choice. However, the pay wasn't bad, and more importantly, they weren't picky—they'd hire felons.
Hanging up the phone, Fiona let out a long sigh of relief. Her mood lifted slightly.
Sure, the job was sht—literally—but for Fiona, it was still a step up from waitressing at a strip club.
It was a positive change, and positive changes meant life was moving in the right direction.
Fiona liked the sound of that. She felt a renewed sense of motivation.
After resting for a moment, she got up and headed to the kitchen to start dinner.
...
2114 North Wallace Street.
Carl had eaten dinner out and just arrived home.
Peggy was sitting in the first-floor living room watching TV. Seeing Carl walk in, she greeted him with a smile before adding, "Carl, go check on Ian. He's been sleeping all day. Hasn't gotten out of bed once."
"Huh?" Carl was surprised, but he obediently went to Ian's room.
Standing at the door, Carl knocked first. "Ian?"
He called out a few times. No answer. Carl reached out, turned the knob, and opened the door.
The door swung open...
In the dim light, Ian lay on his side in bed, motionless.
Carl froze.
This scene... it was way too familiar.
Bit by bit, Carl's brow furrowed. As he stared, the silhouette of Ian on the bed began to slowly merge with his memories of Monica...
Carl stood there, unmoving, staring for over a minute before he snapped out of it. "Ian?"
Ian didn't respond.
Carl gritted his teeth and walked up to the bedside. "Ian..."
Minutes ticked by.
Carl backed out of Ian's room, looking a bit shell-shocked as he walked back to Peggy.
Peggy had never seen Carl make a face like that before. She was genuinely surprised. "Carl, what's wrong?"
Carl looked at Peggy. He stayed silent for several seconds before speaking uncertainly, "Ian... I think he has the same sickness as Monica."
Peggy was surprised again. "Bipolar? What makes you say that?"
"I've seen Monica when she has an episode. The way Ian is right now... it looks exactly the same," Carl replied, his tone complicated.
Peggy was momentarily speechless.
Ian had never done anything bad to Peggy.
While Peggy couldn't say she loved this grandson, she didn't hate him either.
So, in this moment, her feelings were a bit mixed.
Seeing Peggy stay silent, Carl spoke again. "I gotta go back home. I need to get Fiona and Lip. They'll know for sure."
"Yeah, go," Peggy replied.
Carl walked fast.
In no time at all.
He arrived at the Gallagher house. Following the sounds, Carl walked into the kitchen and looked at Fiona.
Fiona, currently in a decent mood after finding a job, was making dinner. Seeing Carl suddenly appear, she lit up with a smile. But seeing the look on Carl's face, the joy vanished instantly, replaced by worry. "Carl, what is it? What happened?"
Hearing her ask, Carl felt a sudden sting in his nose, tears threatening to fall. "Something's wrong with Ian. I think he has bipolar disorder. Just like Monica."
The words hit the air.
Boom!
Fiona's brain exploded. She felt like she'd been struck by lightning. Her body went rigid, unable to move a muscle.
One second, two seconds, three seconds...
"I'm going to see him," Fiona said, the words practically squeezed out through her teeth.
It didn't take long.
Fiona, Lip on his crutches, and Carl—the three Gallaghers—left the house with grim faces. They walked in silence toward 2114 North Wallace Street.
Standing at the door of Ian's room, seeing Ian in that state with their own eyes...
Thump.
Fiona's heart skipped a beat. Her eyes reddened immediately, misting over with tears.
Heartbreak.
Fiona's heart ached so much she could barely breathe. She couldn't believe Ian had actually inherited Monica's bipolar disorder.
Leaning on his crutches, Lip's expression was incredibly grave. The rage in his chest churned uncontrollably. He wanted to scream.
Why?
Why did this fxxking world have to treat the Gallaghers like this?
Fxxk!!!
The three of them stood there quietly for a long time. No one spoke until Fiona sniffled.
"Ian..." Fiona called out softly. dragging feet that felt like they weighed a thousand pounds, she walked step by step to Ian's bedside.
Ian's eyes were open.
"Ian, dinner's ready. Why don't you get up and eat something?" Fiona asked gently, her heart breaking.
Ian didn't respond.
Fiona kept talking.
Finally, Ian responded. He spoke impatiently, "Leave me alone."
Hearing this, Fiona bit her lip. She struggled with herself, afraid to trigger him further. In the end, she didn't say another word and silently walked out.
Once outside, she closed the door gently behind her. Fiona looked at Lip and Carl, her voice weak. "Let's talk in the living room."
In the living room.
With Ian in this condition, Fiona put her conflict with Peggy on hold. Lip did the same.
The four Gallaghers sat together.
Fiona rubbed her eyes, took a deep breath, and forced herself to be strong. "There's no mistake. It's definitely bipolar disorder."
"Is Ian gonna end up like Monica? Doing all that crazy sht?" Carl asked immediately, his voice full of worry.
Fiona gave a bitter smile, the misery practically spilling out of it. "If we don't control it, I'm afraid so."
"We have to send him to a doctor. He has to take meds," Lip spoke up, his tone decisive.
"Yeah..." Fiona responded with just one word.
What else could she say?
"See a doctor." It sounds simple. In reality, it was a mountain to climb.
For one, Ian was manic-depressive now. He wasn't thinking clearly. There was almost zero chance he'd willingly go to a doctor.
For another, even if Ian agreed, how much would the doctor cost? Where was the money going to come from?
At this moment, Fiona suddenly felt that living was utterly exhausting.
"Fi, don't overthink it. We can solve this," Lip looked at Fiona, forcing a smile. "We're Gallaghers. Nothing can take us down!! We'll make sure Ian takes his meds. He'll be fine."
It was a lie.
Lip knew it. Fiona knew it.
But sometimes, lies are necessary.
"Yeah," Fiona rubbed her eyes again and nodded. She then looked at Peggy and spoke politely. "Peggy, Ian has to move back home. He can't stay here; you guys can't take care of him like this."
"As for Carl..."
She paused.
"Carl, you keep staying here. Ian's situation is going to get unstable. You don't need to go through that..." Fiona said.
Hearing this.
Peggy's brow twitched slightly. She was surprised.
Peggy truly hadn't expected the "little btch" Fiona to say something like that.
Can people change?
I guess they can.
---
Under the night sky.
On a long-haul truck.
Monica, spirits incredibly high and overflowing with manic energy, smiled broadly as she looked out the window at the passing night scenery.
She thought of Frank. She thought of the kids...
Monica was on her way home.