For @spookynomaj, happy birthday!!!
‘No matter how long apart’
Warnings: angst ig? Swearing Not proof read
Word Count: idk
This is my first Shameless fic, might be a tad inaccurate. ❤️❤️❤️ Also my first fic in months, testing the waters basically
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Growing up in the Southside was rough, with no father figure and a mom working 2 jobs just to make ends meet. But there was one person who seemed to make it better. Carl. Carl Gallagher and the whole family seemed like a light in the dark.
You met him while he was looking for animals to torture and, reluctantly, joined in. From then on, you and him were always close, capturing animals and stealing out of donation bins or packages off porches.
You were close but as you both got older, Carl began to drift away. He got involved in gangs and started selling drugs. You spent less and less time with the Gallaghers.
The sentencing was hard, watching them take him away, knowing it would be a year before you’d see him again.
In the beginning, you’d write him letters, telling him about Debbie or Fiona. He stopped responding after a few months.
Without Carl around, you started helping around the Gallagher house more, watching Liam and helping with bills.
A year would pass and he’d come back. You can still remember him walking through the front door. A rushing feeling of excitement and then… confusion.
Carl was different. Corn rows, long gold chains and an accent you’d never heard from him before. He acted like he didn’t care and was too 'cool’ for you, or even his family.
So you stopped coming around again, only popping in to check on Fiona or Debbie once in a while.
And..that brings us to now. The soft sound of rain on your bedroom window and the ever so often crinkling of paper.
You’d let out a sigh, staring down at your homework, your chin resting in your hand. Math..never one of your strong suits.
3 ×^2 times 4x - 9…
Brrrrrrrr….Brrrr…
You’d jump a bit, looking down at your phone. The caller ID was a phone number Fiona used to call you.
You’d set down the pencil, picking up the phone and holding it to your ear. “Hey Fi..what’s up?”
Silence. “Hello..?”
“Hey..” His voice was low, soft. A bit shaky even. Carl.
“What do you want?” You’d say, eyes narrowing as you leaned back in your desk chair. Carl had barely spoken a word to you in 3 months. Why now?
“I..well..” He’d sigh. “Can you- can you come over?..please. i..I need you.” He sounded desperate, like he couldn’t breathe.
This was a side you hadn’t seen of Carl since you were kids, if ever.
“Right..um, you’re at home right?”
“yeah, just get out here as fast as you can please. I need you.”
That was enough to convince you. With a quick goodbye, you’d hang up the phone, abandoning your homework and slipping on a pair of boots.
You’d pull a jacket on, precariously opening the bedroom window and slipping out. Rain droplets dotted your face as you jogged out of your yard, through the gate, towards the Gallagher house, towards Carl.
It was dark, late and nobody was around to see you. To see you in your pajamas and a pair of rainboots running down the street.
The Gallagher house came into view, a figure sitting on the porch stoop.
The wooden stairs let out a groan under your weight and they’d look up.
“Shit Carl- what happened?” His forehead had a nasty mark and stitches.
You’d drop down to sit next to him, hand moving to his cheek, turning his face so you could get a better look.
“I know it’s been a while, I should be bothering you..I’m sorry.” He’d say, looking at you. Carl’s eyes were glassy with tears, though you could tell he was fighting it.
“It’s okay, Carl. I’ve missed you.” You’d murmur.
It’s like that flipped a switch. Carl would reach over, arms around you in a tight hold as he pressed his face into your shoulder, softly sniffling before crying.
His shoulders would fall up and down rapidly as he tried to stop crying. His fingernails dug into your back as he sobbed.
You don’t know what to say. You’ve never seen Carl like this. A part of you is relieved he’s come back and still feels comfortable with you. Another part is saying that something shitty must’ve happened to make him this desperate.
Your arms wrap around him, your chin resting in his hair, breathing in his scent. Some cheap cologne he thought was cool probably.
“Wanna go inside and talk about it?” Carl’s cries stop for just a second and he nods, pulling away and wiping his nose.
You both stand up. He opens the door, heading inside. You’d pause, looking after him for a split second.
You’d think. About the corn rows, the accent, the chains, the new attitude, just how much he changed.
But, you’d head inside anyways.. Because no matter how long apart you two were or how much Carl changed, he was still your best friend and you loved him.