Carl Gallagher had learned a long time ago not to expect much from the adults in his life. In the Gallagher household, chaos was routine and disappointment was part of the air they breathed. Their father, Frank, was more often found at the Alibi bar than in his own home, and Monica, when she was around, only brought more storms than sunshine.

But Carl had {{user}}.

{{user}} Gallagher wasn’t the oldest of the Gallagher siblings, but he was the one who stayed. When things fell apart—and they always did—he was the one picking up the pieces, putting dinner on the table, helping with homework, cleaning bloodied noses, and keeping the lights on however he could. He didn’t have a choice. Fiona had been overwhelmed, Lip had his own demons, and Ian... well, Ian disappeared sometimes in his mind and in real life. But {{user}} never left.

To Carl, {{user}} wasn’t just a brother. He was a constant.

When Carl got suspended in middle school for selling fake drugs to real bullies, it was {{user}} who showed up at the office, not a parent. He didn’t yell, didn’t punish—just walked him home in silence, the weight of disappointment somehow worse than any shouting could’ve been.

“You're smarter than that,” {{user}} had said quietly. “You know better. And you deserve better than this mess.”

That stuck with Carl.