Chapter One: The Family Milkovich

Sunlight slowly dawned on Chicago, creeping through quiet streets and illuminating rooftops, cascading down to crawl through drawn drapes and blinds and tap on the eyelids of sleepers. Little by little, the Southside sprang to life...streets filling with cars and the shrieks of playing children, windows thrown open and radios turned on, all punctuated by the roar of trains passing by overhead and the occasional siren.

But in the Milkovich household, silence still reigned. Morning was almost gone, and the only sign of activity in the house was the flies buzzing around the dirty dishes in the kitchen.

That was, until the angry shriek of a baby began to echo off the walls, insistent and demanding.

In Mickey's bedroom, there was a muffled groan from the figures who'd pulled the sheets over their heads already to avoid the persistent sunlight. "Mmmmpf. Hey. You."

"No. You."

"You!"

"Play for it."

"Fine."

Two hands emerged from beneath the sheets. "One...two...three...ha!" Ian grinned triumphantly. "Paper beats rock. You're up."

Next to him, Svetlana sat up, scowling. "Stupid game. How can paper beat a rock?"

"It covers it, see?" Ian demonstrated, but she just continued to glare.

"If I had a rock, I could bash your orange head," she narrowed her eyes at him.

Ian laughed. "OK. I'm going." With that, he crawled over Svetlana, reaching for his discarded clothing.

"Nice," she said appreciatively, eyeing his ass as he pulled them on.

Ian shook his head at her. "Hey...let him sleep, OK?" With a jerk of his head, he indicated the other figure in the bed, still covered by the sheet.

Svetlana shrugged. As soon as he exited, she yanked the sheet off the bed, exposing Mickey's face to the light. "The fuck?" he groaned.

"Get up, lazy ass. It's late. Baby's awake."

Mickey groaned, opening his eyes fully only to scowl as his wife's face swam into view. "What the fuck are you doing in here again?"

Svetlana shrugged as she climbed out of bed, pulling her silk robe around her. "I got cold."

"It's been 90 degrees at night!"

"Lonely then. Not used to sleeping alone since Nika left."

"She didn't leave, we threw her ass out, remember? Leave it to you to hook up with a crackhead who stole everything she could get her hands on."

"She was fun. I miss her." Svetlana fluffed her hair out.

"Bullshit. We both know you brought her home just to piss me off. Lesbian, my ass."

Svetlana grinned now, stretching. "Maybe I switch teams again. Make an orange baby with your Carrot Boy."

"Get the fuck out!" Mickey threw his pillow at her and Svetlana ducked, then exited, giggling in a most annoying manner.

Mickey glared after her for a moment. God, she was a fucking hassle. They'd reached an uneasy peace these last few months - he helped take care of their kid, albeit reluctantly, and she stayed off his back for the most part. But he liked it best when they were living separate lives, and lately, she'd become a serious Stage 5 clinger, underfoot every time he turned around.

It was all Ian's fault, Mickey thought as he dressed. Once she'd given up on trying to keep him and Mickey apart, it was like the two of them fell in fucking love or some weird shit. During the darkest days, when Ian was practically comatose, she hovered constantly. Without even realizing it, Mickey began to rely on her. If he or Mandy couldn't be there, she was, taking care of Ian just as devotedly as they did, cajoling him to get out of bed, nagging him to take his medication or keep his appointments at the clinic, alternately fussing at him or hitting on him like a slutty mother hen.

And Ian fucking responded to her in a way that he wouldn't to anyone else. He ate the weird Russian food she made for him, he let her take him to his doctor, he laughed at her over the top hooker come-ons. He'd get out of bed to help her take care of Geno when he wouldn't even look at anyone else. As happy as Mickey had been to see pieces of the boy he'd known so well begin to emerge again, he couldn't help but seethe with jealousy. He had tried in every way he could to be everything Ian needed. Why couldn't it have been him that Ian turned to?

It was Mandy who had helped him put into perspective. "She doesn't mean anything to him, Mick. He's not worried about what she thinks, or about disappointing her, or losing her. There's no pressure to act a certain way, no expectations. It's easy for him to be with her," she'd smiled sadly at him. "I know. I miss him too. But he'll come around."

And he had. It had happened in pieces and tiny bits...the day Ian first looked Mickey in the eyes without flinching, when he held Mandy's hand as the three of them walked to the store, when he laughed watching Mickey swear at the top of his lungs as he tried to put Geno's crib together after the kid outgrew his bassinet. And if Mickey had ever doubted how Ian would feel about him once he was better, he got his answer the first time Ian touched his face willingly, how he'd curl into him in the middle of the night, and the day he'd surprised Mickey in the shower, shoving him against the stall and fucking him breathless without a word.

Of course, Svetlana hadn't been the only one interfering in their relationship. Fiona and Lip had been a nonstop presence, in stark contrast to their neglect of Ian in the past. Mickey had tried to be grateful for the support, but the two of them were the nosiest, most opinionated fucks he'd ever had the misfortune to meet. They had something to say about every fucking decision he had made for Ian, and usually it was something along the lines of how he was doing it wrong. Then Ian's asshole therapist had come up with some bullshit about how Ian and Mickey's relationship was co-dependent and toxic and the next thing he knew, Lip and Fiona yanked Ian back home, holding Fiona's legal guardianship over his head until Ian was forced to give in or risk a professional evaluation that could land him in the hospital.

He'd been back home with Fiona and her increasingly full house, Sheila and Frank having been forced to move in after Sheila lost her house to foreclosure, for the past couple of months. Not that this had kept him and Mickey apart - Fiona could force him to go home, with Lip backing her up, but she couldn't stop him from sneaking out or Mickey openly walking in and daring them to do something about it. Eventually she'd relented a bit and things became slightly less hostile between the four of them.

Until three days ago, when Mickey had opened his front door to find Ian standing on the porch, overstuffed duffel bag slung over his shoulder.

"Hey,' he'd said simply as Mickey stared. "I'm back. I mean, if you still want me..."

Mickey had chuckled with amazement and threw the door wide open. "Get the fuck in here, Gallagher."

As he'd helped Ian unpack, he couldn't help but ask. "Fiona and Lip ok with this?"

Ian didn't look up from the clothes he was pulling out of the bag. "I turned eighteen last week, so I officially don't have to give a shit."

"So that means no, then."

"Don't we have something better to do than talk about my family?" Ian tossed the shirt he was holding aside and reached for Mickey, his long fingers gliding along his belt and tugging it out of the loops.

"Hell yeah, we do." With that Mickey shoved Ian back onto the bed, their lips crashing together, and everything else instantly forgotten...

"Morning, fuckface," Mandy shook Mickey out of his remembrances, sticking her head in the doorway. "Can I borrow the Beatermobile for a few hours?"

Mickey gave her a pointed look. "You think I should lend you my car when you insult it like that? Where you going, anyway? You don't have to work until tonight."

"None of your business," she smirked back.

"As long as your business ain't Kenyatta, it's all yours. You owe me a tank of gas though," Mickey tossed her the keys from his nightstand.

Mandy was frowning now. "I'm done with Kenyatta, asshole. You don't have to keep bringing it up." With that, she flounced out of the room.

"Took you long enough," Mickey mumbled to himself. He and his brothers had run Kenyatta off at gunpoint, but Mandy was stubborn as any Milkovich, and she'd snuck around with him until the night he broke her nose for some imaginary slight and she'd finally had enough. Since then it was business as usual for her, random hook ups every week but no one serious. Thank God, because the last thing any of them needed was more fucking drama.

"Tell me we have coffee," Mickey stumbled into the kitchen, where Mandy was pouring herself a bowl of cereal. Ian wasn't in sight; he was probably helping Svetlana with the baby.

"We do if you make it," Mandy grinned and pointed at the coffee maker.

"Great," Mickey had just peeled the lid off the coffee can when he heard the front door open. Mandy looked up from her bowl of cereal and he tensed automatically until he saw Fiona enter.

"Don't bother to knock or anything," Mandy snickered as she sauntered past to fling herself on the couch, still holding her bowl.

"Why should I? Neither one of you ever do," Fiona shot back. Her eyes met Mickey's. "I came to see Ian."

Mickey cracked his knuckles lightly, feeling the tension return. "Why? So you can have the same conversation you've already had twenty times? It's not going to change shit; it's just going to piss him off."

Fiona sighed, running her fingers through her dark hair. "Mickey, let's not do this again. It's not that I don't appreciate everything you've done for Ian these past few months. You've been incredible, really. But what you've got going on here - you're married, with a baby...that's huge. It's not a responsibility that Ian should have to be worrying about right now on top of everything he's going through."

Mickey clenched his teeth, but of course she wasn't done. "I'm not saying that you guys can't - you know, keep seeing each other. I'm just saying I think he needs to be where he can concentrate on his recovery without all the distractions. He needs to be at home."

Mickey didn't trust himself to keep looking at her, knowing it wasn't going to take much for him to explode. He settled for looking at a spot on the wall above her head. "Well, what you want means fuck all, Fiona, because Ian wants to be here. He's 18 now, old enough to decide for himself. And since when has the Gallagher house ever been drama free anyway?"

Mandy snorted at that and Fiona shot her a blistering glare before turning back to Mickey. "At least he'd be safe!" she moved closer to him now, lowering her voice. "Mickey, what are you guys going to do when Terry gets out of jail? It could be any day now. This is his house!"

Mandy stood up abruptly, walking back into the kitchen where they heard her bowl crash into the sink before she stomped to her room, banging the door closed behind her.

Mickey hesitated for a moment, looking after her. "We're moving," he said finally. "Already found an apartment on Grenshaw. It's shitty, but it's got enough room for all of us. Me, Ian, Svetlana, Mandy and the kid too. I'm paying off the deposit on Friday - we can move in next week."

"What?" Fiona stared at him accusingly. "You were just going to up and leave and not say anything to us?"

"Jesus, it's eight blocks away; it's not like I'm dragging him off to Siberia."

Fiona pressed her lips together. "I want to talk to Ian."

Mickey made an exaggeratedly polite sweeping motion towards the bedrooms. "I'm not stopping you."

Fiona started to turn that way but just then Ian and Svetlana emerged from her bedroom, Ian carrying a fully dressed Geno in his arms. The baby was chattering away at them, complete with hand gestures.

"Oh, so that's how it is, huh, Geno?" Ian grinned in response to Geno's incoherent soliloquy and the baby got even more excited, bouncing in his arms and babbling out a loud response. He hadn't noticed Fiona yet, and she studied his carefree demeanor, feeling a sharp ping noticing the way his eyes sparkled in a way they hadn't in months.

When Ian did catch sight of her, his smile immediately faded. He handed Geno to Svetlana and walked over, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Hey, Fiona."

Fiona swallowed hard at his closed expression, her mouth drying up. "You look - happy," she finally managed.

Ian's mouth quirked. "Am. Or at least I was," he gave her a pointed look. "What do you want?"

Fiona looked back at Mickey, who was leaning against the wall, his arms folded. He raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

"I just - " she took a deep breath as she faced her brother again. "I just wanted to say congratulations," she forced a smile, blinking back the tears in her eyes. "Mickey says you guys are moving. That's exciting; your own place! You're going to need tons of stuff - furniture, dishes...I'll talk to Sheila. Most of her stuff is in storage since she's living with us; I'm sure she can spare something. Plus we can hit up yard sales, the Salvation Army...make a day of it. What do you say?"

Ian looked stunned for a moment before a wide smile slowly spread across his face. "Um...wow, that would be great. We're pretty much starting out with nothing, so we can use all the help we can get."

"Great!" Fiona nodded, her own smile genuine now. "Well, I'd better get home and start making some calls. I'll talk to you guys tonight, OK?" With that, she hugged Ian tightly. "Don't be a stranger, OK? I kinda got used to seeing you every day."

Ian grinned down at her. "I'll be around. Not moving to Siberia, you know."

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Mickey smirk at that. "So I hear," she said drily and with a wave, she headed out the door.

She had just reached the gate when she heard the door open again, and turned to see Mickey on the porch.

"Hey," he looked down at her. "Thanks."

She nodded. "I'm still worried," she admitted. "But you're right. This isn't up to me. And...he really does look happy. Just - take care of him, OK?"

"Always."

And with that, Mickey disappeared back into the house.

In the next chapter, an ordinary family squabble opens up a can of worms, and Ian considers revealing a secret that could change everything for Mickey.

Thanks so much for reading - this is my first Shameless fanfic and feedback is greatly appreciated!