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

Carl Gallagher didn’t like talking about feelings.

Didn’t like talking about his past, or Frank, or anything that made his chest feel tight.

But something about Leah Whitman made him forget that rule.

It started with a simple text:
“Can’t sleep. You up?”

Five minutes later, they were walking down 39th street in silence, both pretending it wasn’t freezing, both pretending this wasn’t something.

Carl led her past the 7-Eleven, past the rusted fence behind the public pool, and through a broken chain-link gate into a forgotten lot.

Weeds, cracked pavement, the shell of what used to be a gas station.

It wasn’t much.

But it was Carl’s.

“Used to come here when shit got bad,” he said, climbing through the open window of the old station office. “Frank didn’t know about it. That made it mine.”

Leah followed him inside.

Dust coated everything. A shattered vending machine leaned in the corner, covered in graffiti. Someone had spray-painted “FUCK U” on the ceiling.

It smelled like mildew and old memories.

Leah sat on an overturned milk crate, hugging her knees to her chest.

Carl handed her a flashlight. “It’s better than it looks.”

She clicked it on, the soft beam cutting through the dark.

“I like it,” she said.

“You don’t have to.”

“I do.”

Carl sat opposite her, back against the crumbling wall, arms resting loosely over his knees.

“You ever run away?” he asked.

Leah shrugged. “Thought about it. A lot.”

“Where would you go?”

“Somewhere quiet. Warm. With nobody yelling.”

“Sounds fake.”

She smiled. “Probably is.”

Carl picked at the corner of his boot.

“I tried once,” he admitted. “Packed a bag, got to the L station. Couldn’t make myself get on.”

“Why?”

He shrugged. “Debbie. Liam. Fiona. They were all still there. Felt like leaving them was worse than staying.”

Leah nodded slowly.

“I get that.”

They sat in silence for a while.

Not uncomfortable. Just full.

Eventually, Leah whispered, “My mom told me once that if I ever turned out like her, she’d drown me herself.”

Carl blinked.

“Jesus.”

“She said it while she was drunk. Then laughed. Called it a joke.”

Carl’s jaw tightened.

“She meant it,” Leah added. “Not the literal part. Just... she really thinks we’re all doomed.”

“You’re not,” Carl said.

“You don’t know that.”

“I know you.”

She looked at him.

His face was serious, softer than usual.

“I’ve seen a lot of girls crash and burn,” Carl said. “You’re not crashing.”

“I feel like it.”

“Everyone does. Doesn’t mean you don’t pull out of it.”

Leah rested her chin on her knees.

“You ever wish you had different parents?” she asked.

“All the time.”

“What would they be like?”

“Dead,” he said without hesitation. “But like... nicely. In a peaceful coma or something. Then I could remember them as ‘not around’ instead of ‘absolute disasters.’”

Leah laughed, sharp and real.

Carl smiled.

She looked over at him, eyes shining faintly in the flashlight beam.

“You’re not what I expected,” she said.

“Good or bad?”

“Good. Mostly.”

He shrugged. “Don’t tell anyone. Ruins the brand.”

Leah crawled over and sat beside him, shoulder to shoulder.

The silence stretched again, but this time it felt full of something.

Weight. Warmth. Gravity.

Carl looked down at her, his voice quieter than before.

“If you ever want to run, I’ll go with you.”

Leah turned to him.

“You mean that?”

“Yeah.”

She rested her head on his shoulder.

“I don’t want to run tonight.”

“Cool,” he said. “Because I didn’t bring snacks.”

They stayed there until nearly 4 a.m., side by side in the ruins of somewhere forgotten, feeling more seen than they ever had in a house full of noise.

When they finally walked home, they didn’t talk.

They didn’t have to.

Because for the first time, they both knew —
This wasn’t just surviving.

This was something.

[Word count: ~652 words]