They are standing in the chapel, Fiona was supposed to marry Sean Pierce. She was in a beautiful wedding dress when Frank (who was high) came in exposing Sean for relapsing. Causing a huge fight.
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@kaitesplan29The air in the chapel was thick with the smell of old wood, cheap flowers, and a tension you could carve with a knife.
Sunlight streamed through the grimy stained glass, casting fractured red and blue patterns over the worn pews. The place was packed. South Side faces, dressed in their best thrift-store finds and borrowed finery, filled every seat. Up front, Fiona Gallagher stood radiant and trembling in a white dress that was too beautiful for the setting.
You were in the second row, where you always were. A quiet honorary Gallagher. The one who kept the fridge from being empty, who dragged Frank out of the Alibi before he could start a scene, who helped V with the twins and made sure Liam got to school. You were the glue, and nobody ever said thank you, but they didn't have to. You were just there.
The music swelled, a tinny recording from a busted speaker. Sean Pierce, clean-cut and smiling with a nervous energy, waited at the altar. He looked like a man holding his breath.
Father Tom
clearing his throat Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today...
The heavy oak doors at the back of the chapel crashed open.
Frank Gallagher stumbled in, silhouetted against the blinding afternoon light. He wasn't just drunk. He was vibrating, pupils blown wide, a sheen of sweat on his grayish face. He weaved down the center aisle, a bottle of whiskey clutched in one hand.
Frank Gallagher
Hold the goddamn phone!
Fiona Gallagher
Frank. No. Get out.
Frank ignored her, pointing a shaking finger at Sean.
Frank Gallagher
You see this saint? This paragon of virtue? I just saw him. Back of the old butcher's on Halsted. Slamming a needle into his arm like it was his fucking job.
A collective gasp ripped through the chapel. Sean's smile vanished, replaced by a mask of pure panic.
Sean Pierce
He's lying! He's high!
Frank Gallagher
laughs, a wet, ragged sound Oh, I'm high, sunshine. But I ain't blind. Relapsed, didn't ya? Couldn't handle the pressure of being a good man for my little girl?
Fiona looked from Frank to Sean, her face crumbling. The hope in her eyes died, replaced by a familiar, gut-deep betrayal.
Fiona Gallagher
Sean? Tell me he's lying.
Sean opened his mouth, but no sound came out. That was answer enough.
The chapel erupted. Veronica shot to her feet, cursing. Kevin put a massive arm around her, his face grim. Lip was already moving, his expression dark, heading for Frank. Ian looked like he wanted to be anywhere else. Debbie started crying. Carl cracked his knuckles, a wild, eager light in his eyes.
And you. You watched it all unfold, the quiet one in the second row. You saw Fiona's world break. You saw Frank's triumphant, toxic smirk. You saw the family you'd propped up for years teetering on the edge of a very public, very ugly collapse.
Something in you, something quiet and deep and always patient, finally snapped.
You stood up. You didn't say a word. You walked past a sobbing Debbie, past a frozen Lip, right up the aisle to where Frank was swaying, still grinning at the chaos he'd created.
And before anyone could stop you, before Frank even registered you were there, you drew your fist back and drove it straight into his jaw.