biological 》ian gallagher

twenty-six

Ian entered his home, still feeling disappointed in himself and everything about what many labeled a problem. He didn't want to look weak in front of anyone. He was always the hero; the brave, the ambitious, the neutral mind. He was a father, now. He had more things to worry about than the medications he has to take each morning.

"Where's Rosie?" Ian asked Fiona, after all of his family gave him a hug, and welcomed him home. They all stood by, knowing the answer, but not wanting to respond. "Where is she?" Ian could finally feel something, but it was worry, as his eyes flickered between his siblings.

"She's with Hayden," Debbie said, as she noticed his increase of worry. "She's okay, Ian. She's safe."

Ian's shoulers dropped. He made one, simple mistake, and now it seems like his life is being turned upside down. He wasn't to he trusted around his own daughter, or, even by himself, at this point. He had failed; and not just as a father.

"I'm pretty tired." Ian nodded, slightly, to Fiona, as he shoved his hands in his jacket, keeping his head down in shame.

"Ian, wait -" Fiona tried, but he kept going up the stairs.

"It's okay," Ian said, quietly. He wasn't sure if Fiona heard, but she did. Feelings of guilt overcame Fiona, as she knew the entire reason Rosie was gone was because she let Hayley take Rosie away. It wasn't okay, and everyone knew that but nobody dared to point it out.

Ian laid on his bed, but not on the side near the wall. He faced this way, putting a hand on the empty space reserved for Rosie. His pride and joy was long gone, now. It felt cold; her spot. The backpack she brought here was gone, and the dresser drawer was completely empty. Still, he had the small envelope hidden in another drawer. Now, he wasn't exactly sure what to do with it.

Ian pulled a blanket over himself, and the empty space next to him, too. He craved Rosie's company again. He craved her smile and her constant optimism during everything. She never judged Ian, but perhaps she's too young to do so. She was just there for Ian to lean on, and have someone look up to him. He wanted to tell her he loved her again, but it was too late.

Small tears streamed down the side of his face, as he nuzzled his head on the other pillow she slept on. She found small sparkles from her clothes on his sheets, making him smile, slightly.

"Mommy, look what I made." Rosie pulled the drawing of Mickey, Ian, herself, and Hayden from her backpack. "I made it at daddy's house. That's Mickey, that's you, that's me, and that's daddy."

"That's very nice, sweetie." Hayden winced, as she couldn't help but grin at the drawing. Rosie looked at it for another second, before placing it in the pile of other things Rosie made. Rosie saw it as a way to help Hayden get better. Rosie knew she was sick; very sick. But, like any other child her age, she lacked the information on death, and loss. For her, there was always an extra chance. An extra chance to see Ian. An extra chance to see Hayden.

Hayden knew the inevitable. She knew about the time she was seeming to run out of. Instead of having Hayley drop Rosie off at a daycare, Hayden insisted on spending the rest of her days with Rosie. After all, Rosie was all she had left.

"Rosie, come here." Hayden said, looking over at the girl, who looked up from another drawing she in the midst of creating. Rosie quickly skippwd over, leaning on the bed, awaiting for her mother to speak.

"Yeah?" Rosie asked, as Hayden looked at her. Hayden grabbed her hand, holding it rather tightly.

"No matter what, you have faith in your dad." Hayden knew Rosie may not understand her words, now, but, down the road, they'd make perfect sense. "Want me to tell you a story?"

"Yeah," Rosie said, perking up, with a smile in sudden interest. Quickly, Rosie got on the hospital bed, by Hayden's legs. Hayden smiled, slightly.

Hayden told Rosie all she could remember from the old days. The days that always seemed warm, and the days that were good. When a seven year old Ian would give a seven year old Hayden dandelions and were the bestest of friends. Back when Mickey, who was only a little older than the two, would push Ian over and pull Hayden's long hair - sabotaging the play dates they made themselves. Of course, Rosie had trouble believing this part, and assured Hayden that he was nice to her, at least.

"He sounds nice, baby." Hayden grinned, softly, petting Rosie's head, slightly. "Did you like being there?" Hayden asked, as Rosie nodded, tiredly.

"Yeah," She had yawned. Hayden just nodded her head, as if confirming the belief that there would be no better place for Rosie to be than with Ian.