Unplanned

Chapter 8: Trouble

  "Well, you gonna tell me why the fuck Mickey Milkovich is sitting with you in our kitchen?" Fiona demanded after the slight pause.

  Mickey and Ian just looked at each other silently before glancing both at Mandy and then back. Fiona had been extra protective of Ian since he had come back, he wasn't sure at first if it was because of the pregnancy or the bipolar but when he started to show and she upped the fierce mother hen act he knew it was the former.

  "Mickey's the baby daddy and Mandy's probably gone and pulled him back from wherever he ran off and told him he was gonna be a dad," Lip answered eventually.

  "What?! No. No, Mickey Milkovich... Ian!" Fiona stumbled over her words before looking horrified between the two.

  "Wait my nieces or nephews are gonna be Milkovichs? Sick!" Carl exclaimed happily which then earnt him a glare from the eldest Gallagher.

  "You're gay Mickey?" Debbie asked instead.

  "Well last I checked your brother was a dude," Mickey replied shortly.

  "When did you last check Mickey?" Mandy teased, shoving her brother gently.

  "Shut the fuck up bitch," Mickey snapped back, face growing redder. 

  "You got anything to say Ian?" Fiona asked then because it was true that he hadn't actually said anything yet.

  "Sorry, it was an accident?" Ian replied uncertainly.

  "It was an accident that you let Mickey Milkovich stick it in you or an accident that you got knocked up?" Fiona asked in that deadly calm voice of hers.

  "Images Fiona!" Lip exclaimed and promptly got glared at.

  "If I accidentally got fucked by Mickey that would be rape Fiona and if that was the case I don't think we'd be sat here right now palling up," Ian replied coolly. 

  Fiona turned the stink eye on him then and in turn Mickey, the whole kitchen full of tension until she stormed off up the stairs and then it only slightly waned.

***

  It had been three days since then and Fiona was still glaring at the pair of them and Mandy who had taken to sleeping in Ian's old bed. In all, Ian was stressed out even if having Mickey back and having Mickey in a new and more intimate way wasn't the best thing that ever but Fiona and the tension. He had also been stressing more than ever over the fact that he was bipolar. It had only been the night before that he was having one of many restless nights with the dem- no angels- kicking his insides and so he had been forced to lie there and think. It was among these thoughts that he suddenly realised that hos beautiful little babies might inherit his disease, he might have screwed up their little lives before they'd even begun.

  That thought had him crying silently, fat tears rolling down his cheeks to soak into the pillow. Through it though, Ian made sure that he didn't wake Mickey and in the morning could truthfully blame the bags under his eyes on the babies. He still couldn't fathom how Mickey was there, still hadn't asked Mandy how she had done it. In truth he was almost afraid to in case this wasn't real, in case it was some kind of rouse. In case Mickey was really here but he wasn't actually planning to stay. Those thoughts dragging on his mind just increase the bone deep exhaustion that he was feeling these days.

  Regardless of how tired and stressed he was he was meeting up with Svet now for coffee as they often did only as they were both heavily pregnant they drank decaf which kind of sucked. Ian had invited Mickey to come but he had declined and looked highly uncomfortable at the thought- not that the redhead could blame him with what happened. So instead he was making his way down the street on his own, one hand clutched under his heavy belly as he made his way.

  He was getting sideways looks as he went, something that he had been forced to get used to though he still wasn't sure if they were because of his age or his gender. Maybe it was both. Not that it mattered though as he turned the corner and ran- well almost, he was more careful now around people- into the last person in the world that he could possibly want to.

  The man hadn't been in his mind recently even after the return of his son. Terry had been incarcerated for the millionth time two weeks after Mickey's supposed wedding and Ian hadn't had to worry about him. Until now it seemed as he was out and... and standing there staring right at Ian's baby bump.

  Sudden panic came over him and he went to take a step back, both hands coming up to cover his stomach but Terry reached out and grabbed Ian before he could get away. The bigger man pulled Ian into a nearby alley and slammed him against the wall, pressing in close, close enough that he was pressed over the bump.

  "Little gay skank's gone and got himself knocked," Terry growled right in Ian's face, so close that his breath blew over Ian's skin.

  Ian's heart was beating  a million miles an hour and his breaths were coming out short and sharp as he tried to suppress the building panic. His brain shut down and he didn't even have the presence of mind to yell- something that could probably get him killed anyway. Terry hated him, Terry had found Ian fucking his son. What if the man put two and two together? No, he wasn't bright enough. Didn't matter, either way Ian was sure he was going to die.

  Then he felt it, the point of the knife against his belly, pressing in painfully and making Ian's heart stop for a moment. He knew that he was crying now but he couldn't care less, Terry wasn't even pointing the knife at him, he was pointing it at his boys and if he moved they could be killed. As it was he hissed, feeling the blade pierce the skin and blood seep out.

  "I'm gonna cut your filthy faggot spawn from your filthy cock sucking belly," Terry growled, dragging the knife across and drawing a line of blood with it, causing Ian to whimper.

  Just as he angled the knife again, about to plunge it in, the was a gunshot and Terry was falling with a yell, clutching at his side. Snapping to look over at his saviour, he sagged down against the wall as he saw Svetlana standing there with the gun lowered at her side. 

  The woman rushed over and grabbed his face in her hands even as the tears continued to fall with gusto. 

  "It's okay Orange Boy. I shoot him down," she crooned, pressing a lingering kiss to his temple before turning back to Terry swearing on the ground, "call police Orange Boy, now."

***

  It was satisfying to see Terry taken off in the police car with the promise of a long stay in the slammer. Svetlana had taken off after he called what with being an illegal immigrant and all but instructed him to only give a vague description of her. So that's what he did; gave the police the description of a pregnant lady who, in his version, had been wearing a hoody with the hood drawn up. Really they couldn't not believe him with Terry screaming about dirty homos, filthy twinks and AIDS spreading whores. 

  Ian had ended up having to have stitched in some of the deeper parts of the wound and spent a while in the hospital to be checked over and to get over the shaking in his limbs from the shock. 

  Eventually, Ian was released and made his way back home on still jelly like legs. While sat steady on the L he sent off a quick, heartfelt thank you to Lana for saving his and the boys' lives. He spent the rest of the ride rubbing a hand over his belly, avoiding the gash that was burning like a mother fucker, a reminder of the fear and absolute certainty of death in that moment. What the hell was Mickey going to say when he saw it?