Frank Gallagher died on a Tuesday.
Or at least, that's how the neighborhood heard it.
By noon, there were three versions of the story:
— overdose behind the Alibi
— hit by a bus he definitely stepped in front of
— missing, presumed dead, because Frank had finally pulled one scam too many
By evening, a woman from Child Services had already called.
That was when Luke took over.
The Frank Management
"Everyone breathe," Luke said, standing in the living room like a quiet anchor. "Nobody says anything stupid."
Carl laughed. "Isn't that, like, our brand?"
Luke didn't smile.
Lip noticed. Fiona noticed too.
Luke moved fast—but clean.
He gathered every document that mattered
He shut down social media noise
He coached Debbie on what not to say
He put Liam with neighbors, temporarily
When the social worker arrived, Luke handled the door.
"Yes," he said calmly. "Our father is missing. No, there is no evidence of neglect. Yes, the household income is documented. You may contact our lawyer."
They didn't have a lawyer.
But Luke spoke like someone who did.
The woman hesitated—then nodded.
Leadership wasn't volume.
It was certainty.
The Siblings React
"Is he really dead?" Debbie asked later, hugging her knees.
Lip stared at the floor. "Frank doesn't die. He just… relocates."
Fiona rubbed her temples. "If this is an insurance thing—"
"It is," Luke said.
They all looked at him.
"He staged it," Luke continued. "Or he's letting people think he's dead. Either way, he's nearby."
Carl grinned. "Classic Frank."
Luke didn't grin back.
The Confrontation
Luke found Frank that night.
Behind a shuttered warehouse. Cheap tarp. Fake blood that smelled like ketchup and regret.
Frank was sitting on a crate, already drunk, rehearsing his resurrection speech.
"You look disappointed," Frank slurred when he saw Luke. "Most sons cry."
Luke didn't raise his voice.
"You involved insurance," Luke said. "You scared the kids. You triggered Child Services."
Frank waved a hand. "Relax. Builds character."
Luke stepped closer.
"For years," Luke said quietly, "you were a burden. We adapted. Now you're a liability."
Frank squinted. "Oh. The kid found his spine."
"I found my line," Luke corrected. "And you crossed it."
Frank, Cornered
Frank laughed, but it cracked.
"What, you gonna kill me?" he sneered. "That'd be poetic."
"No," Luke said. "I'm going to end you socially."
Frank blinked.
"The insurance company already suspects fraud," Luke continued. "One anonymous tip finishes it. No payout. Possible charges."
Frank swallowed.
"And if you come back," Luke added, "I make sure you're documented. Monitored. No more disappearing acts."
Silence stretched.
Frank looked old then. Smaller.
"You've changed," he muttered.
"Yes," Luke said. "We survived you."
Terms of the Dead
Frank stood, wobbling. "So what now, General?"
"You stay gone," Luke said. "Or you come back sober, quiet, and invisible."
Frank snorted. "You really think I can do that?"
Luke met his eyes. "I think you're afraid enough to try."
Frank hesitated.
Then shuffled into the darkness without another word.
Aftermath
Frank Gallagher remained "dead" for weeks.
No insurance money came.
But something else did.
Peace.
The kids slept easier.
Fiona stopped flinching at every knock.
The house felt lighter—like a storm had moved offshore.
Luke watched it all from the background.
The System whispered softly:
Threat Neutralized: Chaotic Patriarch
Leadership Affirmed
Frank wasn't buried.
But for the first time in their lives—
He no longer haunted the house.