Chapter 52 — Frank's Shameless Scheme & Another Veronica
William's suspicion was confirmed.
"You've got a long name. T-Bag is just a convenient abbreviation, isn't it?"
He tossed the explanation casually.
Whether T-Bag believed it or not wasn't William's concern.
T-Bag didn't question it — he simply stared at William, eyes narrowed.
Despite William's clean-cut appearance, T-Bag felt a strange kinship…
Like they were the same kind of creature.
A predator recognizes another.
Just like that serial killer in Parasyte who could always sense fellow parasites —
a degenerate radar, if you will.
"By the way, I still have something to say to Frank. You don't mind, right?"
William suddenly remembered that aphasia was still attached to Frank.
It would be useful later —
as a special anti-Frank silencer.
But not now.
Frank needed that foul mouth of his functional…
at least when dealing with these psychos.
"Go ahead," T-Bag answered with a grin so greasy it could fry eggs.
William ignored the smile, walked to the back of the pickup, and looked inside.
Frank lay there unconscious —
and beside him, a bruised young thug with duct tape over his mouth stared pleadingly at William.
William didn't spare him a second glance.
Instead, he reached down and slapped Frank across the face, hard.
As he did, he activated Disease Transfer, reclaiming the aphasia.
Frank shot awake with a roar.
"Holy shit — where the hell am I?!"
William smirked.
"Enjoy the ride, Frank."
And then he drove a punch into Frank's jaw, sending him back into unconsciousness.
T-Bag strolled over, amused.
"You wake him up just to knock him out again — that makes our job harder, you know?"
William clapped him on the shoulder.
"I'm helping you. If he wakes up halfway and jumps out of the truck, you waste a day.
Now you can fix it — tie him up, tape his mouth shut. Easy."
T-Bag chuckled.
Maybe his grin horrified most people — but William wasn't "most people."
A moment later, William watched as T-Bag and his partner hauled Frank away.
Then William pulled out his phone and dialed Fiona.
"Hey. The problem's taken care of."
At that moment, Fiona was working part-time at the laundromat.
Hearing his voice, she smiled so bright she could've lit the room.
"Thank you, William.
Come over tonight… I'll properly repay you."
She had no idea what William had actually done to Frank —
nor whose hands Frank had fallen into.
For now, all she knew was this:
William never refused her,
and every time she was cornered, he came through.
Tonight, Fiona planned to return that devotion —
in the only way she believed she could.
However, even if she finds out… she probably won't explode like in the original show.
Not the way she went ballistic fighting Steve and Frank.
"Well… that's good news."
William agreed out loud —
but in his head he was already planning to stand Fiona up.
He had an appointment with Amanda tonight.
Fiona could wait.
---
Inside an abandoned building
T-Bag dragged Frank across the filthy floor like a dead animal.
Outside, his hulking partner stood guard to ensure no one disturbed the interrogation.
"MMMPH! MMPH!"
Frank tried to scream through the duct tape across his mouth, eyes bulging in terror.
T-Bag tossed him onto a dusty sofa left behind by whoever once lived here.
RIP—
He tore the tape off.
Along with half of Frank's mustache.
Frank shrieked like a slaughtered pig.
"Holy— listen, this isn't my fault! I— I never even touched the money! The car was stolen! And I really, REALLY need to pee!"
Frank machine-gunned excuses like a man possessed.
But T-Bag wasn't born yesterday.
He flipped out a butterfly knife, spinning it casually in his hand before pressing the edge against Frank's ear.
"Listen up, Frankie boy."
"I don't care whether you got the insurance payout or not.
But I need six thousand dollars — by Saturday.
Not six thousand and one.
Not five thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine.
Six. Thousand. Dollars."
"If I don't see that money… you can say goodbye to this ear."
Human beings can unlock terrifying creative potential when survival is involved.
Frank's eyes darted madly — then a new lie assembled itself instantly.
"WAIT! WAIT! I've got a way to get the money back — even more than six grand! But you two have to help me."
Even T-Bag hesitated.
"Go on."
If there was extra cash beyond the boss's cut, the bonus would go straight into their pockets.
"The house! North Wallace, 2119. It's mine!
We sell the house — boom — six thousand paid, and cash left over!"
T-Bag narrowed his eyes.
"And why do you need us to sell your own house?"
"Oh— because legally it's still in my sister Ginny's name. She died 12 years ago.
All we need is a corpse about her age.
I take the body, submit the will, and the house becomes legally mine."
"Once it's sold, you'll get your money. Every penny. I swear."
T-Bag stared hard, trying to decide whether Frank was lying.
Spoiler: he was. But Frank lies with Olympic-level confidence.
---
While Frank and T-Bag plotted, William was uptown
William sat inside a downtown Chicago law firm.
Because if he wanted Fiona fully under his control, he needed both intimidation and the illusion of protection.
So he came to hire a lawyer for Ian, Lip, and Debbie.
Soon a woman walked over —
white, professional, sharp eyes and bookish beauty.
"Hello, I'm Veronica Donovan. I will be representing Lip, Ian and Debbie Gallagher."
William blinked.
"Veronica Donovan?"
Her name — and face — were too familiar.
"Is there a problem with my name, Mr. Black?"
She frowned slightly at his reaction.
"Do you… know a man named Lincoln Burrows?" William asked.
Veronica's expression changed instantly.
"You know my ex?"
So William's guess was right.
First he ran into T-Bag,
and now Lincoln's ex-girlfriend.
Which meant he wasn't living strictly in Shameless.
This was a crossover world — multiple TV universes overlapping.
And if Prison Break existed here,
then Michael Scofield probably did too.
William looked at Veronica carefully.
Given how his system had been pushing him toward major female characters,
fate had probably already penciled her into his storyline.
"Forgive the personal question," William continued calmly.
"Do you happen to know Sebastian Balfor?"
---