Shameless AF: Dad of the Damn Multiverse

Chapter 37: Family Portrait

"John," Frank wiped the sweat from his brow and called out to the man outside the yard.

John was a friend Frank had met at the bar. Both of them had kids, which gave them plenty to talk about, and they quickly became like-minded friends.

Ever since Frank paid off his credit card debt, the pressure was gone. He'd occasionally go to the bar for a couple of drinks, and John was almost always there. The two often drank and chatted together.

"What are you doing digging holes in this freezing weather?" John asked from outside the yard.

"Nothing much—just working out with the kids. It's how we bond." Frank replied as he ruffled Carl's hair. Carl grimaced and slapped away Frank's muddy hand.

"These two are your kids?" John looked at Carl and Debbie.

"Yep, this is Debbie and Carl. Say hi to Uncle John," Frank introduced the children.

"Uncle John!" Debbie and Carl greeted in unison.

"Don't just stand out there, come on in," Frank waved him in.

"This one's yours too?" John asked, surprised when he saw Liam inside the house.

"Yeah, that's Liam—my little chocolate," Frank said as he picked Liam up.

John seemed to genuinely like children. During his visit, he chatted enthusiastically with Debbie and Carl without the slightest impatience.

"So Frank's really changed lately, huh? When did that start?" John asked casually while watching Frank's every move, subtly shifting the topic whenever Frank got too close.

"I didn't bring any gifts today, but I'll make it up next time." After staying for a while, John took his leave. Frank didn't think much of it.

A few days later, John came by again. Before long, he was familiar with everyone in Frank's house. Fiona and the others now knew John as well—a new one of Frank's shady drinking buddies.

Indeed, to the kids, anyone who could be friends with Frank probably wasn't the most upstanding person.

"You're a photographer?" Frank was surprised to see the camera in John's hands.

During their recent conversations, John had noticed that the only photos in Frank's house were individual or small group shots—nothing of the entire family together. So John offered to take a full family portrait, free of charge.

Frank loved the idea and jumped at the offer. The next day, John came by with his camera.

Frank already knew John didn't work a nine-to-five and assumed he was likely a freelance photographer. Seeing him with the camera confirmed it.

"Alright, everyone look at the camera!" John said, raising the camera to frame the group.

They stood in the yard in front of the house. Frank was in the center holding Liam, with the other kids surrounding him. Lip stood a little further off, arms crossed and scowling—clearly not thrilled about the photo.

"Hold on! You can't take a family photo without us!" Kevin and Veronica chimed in, joining the scene.

"Come on over!" Fiona waved them in.

Although Kevin and Veronica were technically neighbors, they were more like family.

"Can I join too?" A sports car pulled up, horn honking. Steve poked his head out.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Frank asked, annoyed.

"I'm here to take Fiona out to dinner," Steve said, stepping out of the car.

Since the incident with Debbie kidnapping a kid, Fiona had started to soften toward Steve. With his persistent efforts to win her over, she had finally agreed to go out with him.

Frank still didn't like the guy, but for Fiona's sake, he grudgingly allowed Steve in the photo.

"Say cheese!" John said as he clicked away, capturing a burst of shots.

"Let's see how they turned out!" Everyone crowded around to check the photos.

"I'll get them developed tomorrow and drop them off," John said before taking his leave.

---

Later that evening, John returned to a local motel and knocked on a door using a distinct rhythm.

A moment later, the door opened. A young man—about twenty-four or twenty-five—stood there. He wore a plaid shirt and jeans. Though a bit disheveled, his sharp features and chiseled jaw gave him the rugged charm of a classic tough guy.

"Well?" the young man asked.

"Didn't notice anything unusual. I'll develop the photos and take a closer look," John said as he entered.

"Go grab dinner, I haven't eaten yet," John said while removing his jacket and heading to the bathroom with the camera.

"Got it." The young man, named Dean, nodded.

John had converted the bathroom into a makeshift darkroom. He began developing the photos from the camera.

"There's no sign of the Shapeshifter's traits. Are we even sure it's a Shapeshifter this time?" Dean leaned back in his chair, propping his feet up and sipping from a soda.

"According to the intel we've gathered, it's definitely a Shapeshifter," John replied while eating a burger, then crumpled the wrapper and tossed it into the trash.

"But we've been watching him for days—are we really sure we've got the right guy?" Dean asked doubtfully.

"A Shapeshifter can perfectly mimic someone's appearance, voice, fingerprints—even their DNA. It can absorb all their memories. But no matter how perfect the imitation, behavior patterns are always off."

"Frank's recent changes are huge. From what I've investigated, he's like a completely different person. There's a high chance he's been replaced by a Shapeshifter," John explained.

"But when a Shapeshifter is caught on camera or surveillance, their eyes turn white. It's an unavoidable physiological reaction," Dean said.

"Maybe it's not a classic Shapeshifter, but some other kind of shape-changing creature. Every culture around the world has legends of beings who can transform—skinwalkers, werewolves, beastmen, mimics…"

"Maybe we're dealing with something similar this time. After all, there are countless monsters out there. No one can claim to know them all," John said.

"If only we had Grimm with us. With his ability, he could identify a disguised monster with just one look," Dean added.

"I'll keep observing him for a while longer," John said.

---

That night, Frank stayed at his own house rather than going to Sheila's. Officer Eddie was reading the newspaper. Seeing Karen in the kitchen making coffee, he folded the paper and picked up a flyer from the table.

"Aren't you going out tonight with that punk from Frank's house? You really shouldn't be with someone like him. He's just like his dad—no good. You deserve someone better," Officer Eddie said.

Karen didn't respond. She simply focused on what she was doing.