A Different Kind Of Dysfunction - A Shameless Fanfiction (Book One)

It was supposed to be a normal night.

As normal as it got around here, anyway.

Adeline leaned against the kitchen counter, scraping the burnt edges off toast with a butter knife, trying to make it stretch into dinner.

The lights flickered overhead - the wiring was going bad again. Another thing they couldn't afford to fix.

Behind her, the usual noise buzzed through the cramped apartment: Tessa and Lily arguing about the TV remote, Rory punching the air in a half-hearted attempt to burn off steam, Sophie quietly flipping through college brochures she couldn't possibly afford.

Adeline tuned them all out, focusing on the toast.

Get through tonight.
Worry about tomorrow tomorrow.

That was how it worked.

That was how it had to work.

A tug at her sleeve made her jump.

She turned to find Alyssa standing there, barefoot, her hair a wild halo around her face, clutching something behind her back.

"Hey, baby," Adeline said, softening automatically. "You hungry?"

Alyssa shook her head.

"I made you something," she said proudly, voice small but determined.

Adeline's heart squeezed. "Yeah? Let's see."

Alyssa pulled out a wrinkled sheet of paper and held it up with both hands like it was a masterpiece.

Adeline crouched down to get a better look.

It was a drawing.

Stick figures, bright colors, crooked smiles.

A house with a chimney and puffy smoke curling into a too-blue sky.

Eight figures stood in front of the house, holding hands.

At first, it looked sweet - childish and hopeful.

But then Adeline looked closer.

There was Dad - unmistakable even in crayon, wearing the brown jacket he used to work construction in. His smile was huge. He stood tall in the center, arms around the kids.

There was Adeline herself - drawn taller, with messy hair and big, happy eyes.

Sophie, Rory, Leah, Tessa, Lily - all of them grinning, holding hands.

And then there was Sylvia.

Drawn tiny.
Drawn angry.

Her mouth a jagged red line.
Her arms crossed.
Standing far away from the others, almost off the page.

And worst of all -
A giant red X scrawled over her head.

Adeline stared at the picture, her throat closing up.

"You like it?" Alyssa asked eagerly. "I made everyone happy again."

Adeline swallowed the lump rising in her throat.

"It's beautiful," she said, forcing the words out.

Alyssa beamed and threw her arms around Adeline's neck.

For a second, Adeline just knelt there on the dirty floor, hugging her baby sister so tight she could barely breathe.

Because she couldn't say what she was really thinking.

That Alyssa shouldn't know how to draw grief at nine years old.
That she shouldn't understand that some mothers weren't heroes.
That family was supposed to mean safety - not survival.

"Can we hang it up?" Alyssa asked, pulling back.

Adeline managed a nod. "Of course, sweetpea."

She stood up shakily and grabbed some masking tape from the junk drawer.
She stuck the drawing up on the fridge, right between the overdue gas bill and a yellowing family photo from three years ago - back when things had only been half-broken.

Alyssa skipped off happily.

Adeline stayed there, staring at the crayon world her sister had created.

A world where Dad was still alive.
Where Mom didn't count.
Where being happy wasn't a fucking war you had to fight every single day.

"What's that?"

Sophie's voice behind her made her jump.

Sophie came up next to her, studying the drawing.

Her face didn't change much, but Adeline saw the flicker of pain in her eyes.

"Smart kid," Sophie said finally.

Adeline laughed - a sharp, broken sound.

They stood there together for a while, just staring at it.

Not talking.

There wasn't anything left to say.

---

Later that night, Adeline sat on the sagging couch, the cheap blanket pulled up to her chin, trying to sleep.

She couldn't.

Every time she closed her eyes, she saw that drawing burned into the backs of her eyelids.

The perfect house.
The perfect family.
The mom shoved out of the frame like some kind of monster.

And Dad.

God, Dad.

She remembered sitting on his shoulders during Fourth of July fireworks.
His scratchy beard when he kissed her cheek.
The way his voice sounded when he said he was proud of her.

And she remembered the day he didn't come home.

The police showing up.
The look on Sylvia's face - not grief.
Just annoyance.
Like Dad dying was just one more inconvenience she had to deal with.

Adeline rolled onto her side, blinking hard against the tears threatening to spill.

She couldn't cry.
Crying didn't change anything.

Crying didn't buy groceries or fix busted locks or make Sylvia less of a black hole sucking the life out of them.

Tomorrow, she'd get up.
She'd go to work.
She'd fake another smile.
She'd keep them all breathing.

That's what she did.

That's who she was.

But somewhere deep down, in the part of her heart she tried to keep locked away, she wished she could crawl into Alyssa's crayon world - even if just for a minute - and believe it was real.

That they were a perfect family.

That Dad was still there.

That Sylvia had never been born.

---

Across the room, Alyssa shifted in her sleep, murmuring something soft and sweet.

Adeline closed her eyes and whispered into the darkness:

"I'm gonna fix it, baby. I swear."

But even she didn't know if it was a promise she could keep.

[Word count total: ~917 words]