like he should do, he dropped everything when the bell rang. the paramedic in charge of ambulance sixty one was in his shotgun seat in record time and once his partner was in they sped off. the nature of the call was a man in distress. he knew that could be anything so nick was prepared. they pulled up to the house, a small grey structure that was fenced in on south homan avenue.
“ paramedics!” he called out once they got to the door. a child opened the door and he rushed in. the paramedic that was expecting everything wasn’t expecting what he saw inside. “ blaine? ”
The night started out relatively harmless (as far as the definition of ‘harmless’ can go in the Gallagher household) with Blaine waving off anything stronger than a beer and Carl mentioning something about a stick being somewhere a stick should never be and how Blaine liked it there too much. Lip telling his brother to ‘shut the fuck up’ and..well..the usual that made Blaine grow weirdly fond of the family. They were functionally dysfunctional (mostly) and it was a strange dynamic to watch. Their highs were high. Their lows were rock bottom but they always endured. More than his family back in Westerville with deep pockets and ‘perfect lives’ ever had.
Rock bottom. He thought he saw them hit it before. Lip told him he had no idea. Until tonight..he fully understood what he thought was their low was nothing in comparison to.. Ian. Staggering in with a blood smeared mouth and nose ranting so fast that nothing he said made sense. His knuckles were dirty, scraped open and his eyes were so gone Blaine wasn’t sure he’d ever get what he looked like out of his head.
“Just help him, he’s been like that for an hour. Please,” Blaine stood clenching his phone in a white knuckled vice grip. Seeing Lip back away and shout the same thing he said–he barely caught a vaguely familiar voice saying his name. His face went blank when their eyes met.
pianokeysandbowties back up 