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Ch. 24

*Trigger warning. Attempted Suicide. Mention of Bi-Polar Disorder and blood.*
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Say anything you like, but there was always something dependable about a death sentence. She was always there to ruin what was never truly hers in the first place. Sure she had claims, claims she left years ago. And sure, she could say she was trying in her own way. But you knew you could depend on her. In the worst way possible.
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Well what do you know?
Will I ever learn of all the places I'll go?
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It had been months since I'd had that talk with Sheila. And we never stopped our walks, or our cooking shows, and those months had been wonderful. Lip would come with me and watch us cook dinner, talk with us, and steal bits of food as he "helped out." Life had plateaued into a semblance of normalcy. Well, normal with a side of pregnant angry teen in the basement.

Fiona had a mostly steady job, Carl was doing his homework (with my help), Ian was waiting on Mickey to get out of Juvie, no one cared to try and find Frank, Liam was growing like a weed, and Debs was just being Debs. There was a sense of calm throughout the house. It was false.

Monica.

She had to show up a few days before Thanksgiving. She butt her head in just around the time we were supposed to be thankful that she'd left, claiming that Bob left her high and dry and she needed to be home with her family. That she needed to make it right.

She lasted a day and a half before she went catatonic, that's when we realized she hadn't been taking her meds.

I'm not saying she wasn't in pain, or that her pain wasn't valid. She had pulled Frank into her problems and then had to deal with him for years in a swirling pool of toxicity. But it was her that drug him into her life. She couldn't help her phases, being Bi-Polar fucked her up. She couldn't help it. But she also never fucking learned that her meds really did help her.

In a way I'm thankful for her. She gave me my pseudo-family. But, sometimes it seems like she is trying her best to tear them apart. Especially now.

I couldn't let the family eat the bald eagle Carl had illegally killed to "help" for thanksgiving, Kev could cook it up for us another time. So I went out and got a turkey, and a heat and eat side of their liking for each person that I knew was coming. It was gonna be a full house.

"Lyd, you didn't have to do all this, really." Fiona said as she saw me coming in piled with bags.

"When are you gonna realize it's because I want to?" I said with a joking smile. She gave me a frown and cocked her head to the side with a light sigh through her nose.

"Fiona, I live here too. I eat the food and use the water and the electricity and you barely let me help with those. Call this payback." She grabbed a few of the extra bags and helped me put everything away in the kitchen. When we were done she stopped me.

"You have been helping us, in ways you don't see. I don't even mean the money. Carl does his homework, Liam is more playful, Debbie quit trying to baby everyone to death, Ian smiles more... and Lip," she paused smiling a little and grabbed my face in her hands, "he started really giving a shit... That's why I don't ask for it. But, thank you Lyd. Really." She said and gave me a hug. My face was burning and I could only smile at the crease between her throat and shoulder.

"We love you, ya know?"

"I love you too, Fi... but what are we gonna do about Monica?" She had been laid out under the stairs for hours the other day and no one could find her until Carl went to grab a flashlight to look under the house.