Chapter Text
There were three distinct moments in Ian Gallagher’s short life that he could say with certainty had irrevocably changed him. The first occurred when he was ten years old.
“Based on the evidence presented by both parties, it is this court’s opinion that it would be in the best interests of the child, Ian Gallagher, if he were to live in the custody of his biological father, Clayton Gallagher.”
He’d been ripped away from the only family he’d ever known and forced into a strange new environment with people he hadn’t known existed. The resistance put forth by both Ian and his two older siblings--not his parents, funnily enough--had brought about a compromise.
“Don’t think you can come in here and take him away from us and just walk away,” Fiona said dangerously. “If he’s not here on the last day of school with a suitcase full of clothes, I will unleash a hell on you the likes of which you’ve never seen.”
His new family with Clayton included Clayton’s wife Lucy, his seven year old son Malcolm, his four year old daughter Jane, and family friend Dr. Lloyd Lishman. Jane reminded him so much of Debbie that it hurt to look at her sometimes, but Malcolm was a sickly child: asthmatic, diabetic, lactose intolerant, the works. This half-brother was everything his others would despise, and he found himself loathing the boy before they’d even had a proper conversation.
And Lloyd--call me Ned--
Lloyd was the monster in his nightmares.
The second moment occurred when he was twelve years old.
Ian could feel blood pooling below his waist, settling between his hips.
He didn’t think he would ever get used to the sensation.
"Don't worry," Ned said lowly, watching Ian harden in his hand, "this happens to all boys when someone makes them feel good."
Ian flinched at the words, but Ned was too focused on his ministrations to notice.
“Good boy. You’re doing so well.”
The praise made him sick, but not as sick as what happened next.
“I’ve got something that’ll make you feel even better.”
Ned was already living there by the time Ian officially moved in. Something about being broke and going through a messy divorce. Clayton’s first residency had been under Dr. Lishman, so when his marriage went up in flames, he was more than happy to help his old friend.
Ian had been too young to interpret the looks Ned gave him. Sure, he thought the staring was odd, but nothing to be concerned about. And he’d liked that Ned had a special nickname for him, something that was entirely his, despite the fact that Malcolm and Jane also had red hair.
He was Ned’s little Ginger Snap.
Living with these new Gallaghers wasn’t as big an adjustment as he’d thought it would be, but there was one difference that he didn’t think he would ever get used to.
The apathy.
Lucy made absolutely no effort to help acclimate him to his new environment and hardly spoke to him. Clayton tried to make up for it by smothering him, which only succeeded in making Ian more reluctant to bond with him. Malcolm was a huge complainer and obviously favored by his mother, which made Ian like him even less. Jane wasn’t sure what to make of him, and would watch him from across the room, scurrying away whenever Ian caught her.
Ned was the only one who tried to make him feel at home, who tried to empathize with him. Ned, who would sneak him sweets with a conspiratorial wink when Lucy came back from wherever she was with her children and conveniently forgot to bring back something for Ian. Ned, who knew of his dislike for Lucy and Malcolm and exchanged jokes with him at their expense. Ned, who helped him with his homework when Clayton was too busy and Lucy couldn’t be bothered. Ned, whom he cried to when he’d returned from his first summer with his Southside family, lamenting the fact that he didn’t belong anywhere. Ned, who held him and comforted him by whispering “You belong right here” in his ear and stroking his hair until he cried himself to sleep. Ned, who let him stay up late to watch television. Ned, who carried him to bed once he’d conked out.
Ned, who would come into his room and watch him sleep.
The first time Ian caught him, he’d tried to play it off by saying he’d thought he heard Ian having a nightmare. The second time, they’d stared at each other from their places across the room until Ian eventually fell back asleep. The third time, Ned was climbing into bed with him.
Ian was initially alarmed by the intrusion, crying out in fear, but Ned had covered his mouth and gently shushed him.
“What are you doing?” Ian whispered harshly.
Ned shrugged. “I was bored in my room all by myself.”
“Well why weren’t you sleeping?”
“Because I was thinking of all the fun stuff I wanted to do with you.”
Ian perked up. “Is Clayton finally letting us do paintball?”
“Not that kind of fun, Ginger Snap.”
“Oh. More board games?” he asked disappointedly.
“Hey now, don’t pout,” Ned admonished, bringing his finger to Ian’s face and touching his lips. “This game is way more fun than boring old Monopoly, I promise.”
He’d piqued Ian’s interest. “What game?”
“We’re gonna play Doctor.”
The third moment occurred when he was fifteen years old.
“Oh my God, thank you so much! He’s been following me for two blocks, I just went to the first place I saw.”
“Bad date?”
She rolled her eyes. “The worst. Took me to a movie and started groping me during the previews.”
“Ambitious of him.”
“I know!” she snorted. “And he doesn’t even have the dick to back it up.”
“You mean...”
“I felt him up. Practically a micro-penis.”
Ian had just met Mandy Milkovich.
He’d somehow managed to procure a summer job at the Kash and Grab, contributing half of his earnings to the squirrel fund and keeping the rest for himself. The longing looks from his boss felt the same as the ones he would get from Ned, and he resolved not to touch that with a ten-foot pole.
A girl ran into the store while he was manning the register, and before he could protest, ducked behind the counter with him and curled up beneath it. Her eyes were wide and frantic when she looked up at him, pleading. “Pretend I’m not here,” she whispered. “You never saw me before, please.”
A muscular guy burst in just as he was about to respond, and he jolted to assume his previous position, idly flipping through a magazine.
The guy stalked through the store, looking up and down each aisle four times before approaching the register. “Did you see a girl come in here?” he asked.
“Nope. You’re the first customer we’ve had all afternoon. Gonna buy something?”
The guy stared at Ian for a moment, as if judging whether or not to believe him.
Play it cool, play it cool. “Want a pack of Marlboro’s? Some gum?”
“Nah, man, forget it,” he scoffed, turning and walking to the door.
When the bell sounded the girl tried to move, but Ian blocked her in until he saw him cross the street and round the corner.
“You can come out now,” he told her.
She emerged more gracefully than he’d expected, chattering her gratitude at him and explaining the situation. “He’s probably a juicer,” he replied.
“Yeah, probably,” she agreed.
Once customers started filing in, she made to leave. “Thanks again, you really saved my ass.”
“Don’t mention it, it’s no problem.”
Her hand was on the handle, but she walked back behind the counter to him. “What’s your name?” she asked.
“I’m Ian.”
“Well Ian,” she said coyly. “You might just be my knight in shining armour.” She kissed his cheek before walking away again, leaving the store before he got the chance to ask her name.
Meeting Mandy had been the start of a much-needed change in Ian’s life, the catalyst for everything that would happen to him in the next two years.
Mandy had introduced him to Mickey.