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

Sophie showed up at the Gallagher house without texting first.

It was late. Nearly midnight. She wore an oversized hoodie, sleeves tugged over her hands, and boots she didn’t bother to lace.

Lip was in the garage, sorting through tools, when he saw her through the dusty window.

He didn’t say anything. Just opened the door and let her in.

She sat on the edge of the workbench while he tossed a wrench into a drawer and wiped his hands on his jeans.

“You okay?” he asked.

She shrugged.

Then: “No.”

---

He waited.

Didn’t push.

Didn’t fill the silence with jokes or fake sympathy.

Just leaned against the wall, arms crossed, and let her breathe.

Sophie stared at the grease-stained floor.

“She left.”

Lip didn’t pretend to ask who.

“Sylvia?”

Sophie nodded.

“Adeline told her. About the petition. She blew up, then just... walked out.”

Lip lit a cigarette. “You want her to come back?”

“No.”

Sophie shook her head hard. “But I don’t know what to do with the space she left.”

---

Lip passed her the smoke. She didn’t usually take it, but tonight she did.

“I keep waiting for her to scream,” Sophie said. “To break a dish. Slam a door. Call me a failure.”

“She’s not there to do it,” Lip said.

“Exactly. And that’s what’s scary.”

Sophie looked at him.

“I got so used to being the quiet one,” she said. “The safe one. The one who didn’t make waves. And I thought it kept me under her radar.”

She took a drag. Exhaled slow.

“But it didn’t. I still got broken. Just in silence.”

Lip didn’t speak.

She appreciated that.

“I remember once,” she continued, “I got a 94 on a science test. I was eleven. She grabbed the paper, looked at it, and said, ‘So what happened to the other six points?’”

Lip made a low sound. Not quite a laugh.

“And the worst part?” Sophie said. “I agreed with her. I stayed up all night redoing the whole test just to prove I could get a hundred — even though she never looked at it again.”

Lip took the cigarette back.

“She made you feel like nothing was ever enough.”

Sophie nodded.

“Still does.”

---

For a while, all they heard was the wind outside and the faint creak of old metal in the rafters.

Then Lip said:

“She’s gone now.”

“Yeah.”

“So what do you want?”

Sophie looked up at him.

Confused. Like the question didn’t compute.

“I don’t know.”

Lip stepped closer. Not touching. Just present.

“You don’t have to figure it all out tonight.”

“I know.”

“But you gotta stop blaming yourself for what she did.”

She didn’t respond.

“People like that,” he added, “they build little cages around your brain. Tell you it’s your fault the bars are there. That you deserve the lock.”

He looked at her.

“She lied.”

---

Sophie’s eyes welled up.

Not sobbing. Not falling apart.

Just full.

She blinked fast.

“I’m scared,” she admitted.

Lip didn’t flinch.

“Of what?”

“Of not knowing who I am without her voice in my head.”

Lip stepped closer.

“You’ll figure it out,” he said. “One day at a time.”

Then, softly: “And I’ll be here. If you want.”

Sophie didn’t answer.

She just stepped forward and rested her forehead against his chest.

Lip wrapped his arms around her.

Held her like she mattered.

Like she wasn’t broken glass — just someone learning how to fit together again.

---

They didn’t kiss.

Didn’t say “I love you.”

But something shifted.

From survival to safety.

From escape to trust.

And that meant everything.

[Word count: ~1,600 words]