Always going to be him//Gallavich

Twenty

MICKEY
The hours after chucking Sammi's body into the crate were horrible. Debbie couldn't stop panicking, even having nightmares about being arrested. Fiona managed to sleep, but not for long, as she kept pacing up and down the stairs, trying to think of anyway to discard her body.

As for me, my brain was filled with seeing Ian again. Every time I closed my eyes, I imagined seeing Ian, waiting for me on the steps of the Gallagher household. I'd place a kiss on his lips and enjoy the embrace that always made me feel warm.

"Debbie, you're okay. No one is coming to arrest you." I sat with Debbie, who looked like she had been crying for hours.

"We fucking killed her, Mickey! That doesn't freak you out? Not in the slightest?" Debbie looked up at me, scared.

"Deb, look. I've killed a lot of people in my time, and not once have I been arrested. Sammi is just another bitch added to my kill count. Besides, I don't think anyone will miss Sammi, except for her idiot son, but even then I don't think he'll notice that she's gone." I laughed, trying to cheer Debbie up.

"Just because you've killed a lot of people in your past, doesn't mean I'm okay with it. The worst I've done is bashed someone with my fist." Debbie admitted as she started crying.

"Fuckin' hell." I rolled my eyes, really wishing I wasn't the one to calm Debbie down.

"Fiona." I walked over to Fiona's room, seeing her laying in bed, eyes open.

"What's up, Mickey?" She asked, confused.

"Debbie." I sighed, watching as Fiona got out of bed, walking over to Debbie's room, seeing her crying.

"Fuck." Fiona cursed as she jumped onto Debbie's bed, consoling the scared girl.

"Mickey, what do we do with Sammi's body? I mean, we can't just leave her body in the crate. If we're gonna dispose her, we have to do it asap." Fiona made a point.

"I could always try and get in contact with some of my family, or some of my dad's gang members, but I don't think they'll do much 'cause of the fact that I technically put dad in jail..." I sighed. For the first time in a while, I didn't know how to deal with this situation.

"Mickey, are you okay?" Fiona asked.

"No...I'm not. Usually, when something like this happens, I can call up my dad or my family, or other gang members and the situation will be dealt with instantly. But now, I don't have that. The only person who loves me for who I am is sitting behind bars because of the woman we killed. I honestly have no fucking idea what we do now. No idea. If her body starts to stink, the neighbours will call and the police will show up and arrest us. If we do somehow get rid of her body, we have to be sure that she won't be found...by anyone." I broke down into tears.

I was hopeless.

"Shit, Mickey. If I had known that, I would have done something sooner." Fiona gave me a hug. I didn't like it, but it was a replacement until I could see Ian again.

"Wait, maybe there is someone we can call." Fiona smiled, grabbing her phone.

———
(The Next Morning)

"Who's the unfortunate victim?" Frank stood in front of the crate, smiling.

"Sammi." I admitted, Frank's eyes widening.

"Fuck! Seriously? My daughter Sammi is in that crate?" Frank asked, shocked.

"Yep." Debbie exhaled.

"I'm sorry, Frank. We didn't mean for it to happen. We intended to knock her out, scare her a little bit before letting her go so she could get as far away from here as possible." Fiona sighed.

"But..." Frank rolled his eyes.

"But...because of the pills she might have been taking, she died." I rolled my eyes.

"Well. You both royally screwed up, so I'm going to assume that I'm the one dealing with the body." Frank exhaled, opening up the crate to reveal Sammi's body.

"Jesus." Frank nearly vomited because of the smell.

"We'll leave you to it then." I moved away from the crate, hoping to escape the smell that Sammi was emitting.

The day went on slowly. Fiona and I spent most of the day sitting on the front porch, downing beer after beer while watching Frank dispose of Sammi's body.

"Do we really think that Frank is going to manage disposing her body?" I asked, Fiona chuckling.

"Frank disposing of a body is not the worst thing he's done." She laughed, lighting a smoke.

"Really? What's the worst thing that he's done?" I asked, genuinely curious.

"Honestly, there are too many things to count. I think that the one that tops the list is the time he called Child Services on me, forcing Ian, Lip, Carl, Deb and Liam into foster care for a while." When I heard that, I freaked. Frank was a fucked up guy, not as fucked up as my dad, but still fucked up.