Chapter Text
Four days later, they're in Mexico, in a hotel room that's paid up for the rest of the week while they do some apartment-hunting.
It was nerve-wracking crossing the border, but Mickey was very convincing as Ian's "girlfriend" (thanks to his disguise and the presence of baby Mia) and the story of how she was born literally on the side of the road earns them a quick wave-through.
They've managed to get Mia and Mickey to a doctor, who gives them both a clean bill of health. Ian calls work to let them know he's using up a few more vacation days, but doesn't say why, and texts Fiona and Lip a quick update. He's going back soon, anyway.
Today, he's giving Mia her morning bottle of formula so Mickey can sleep in a little. He's watching the sun rise and he can see the beach from their hotel window, and he thinks he really could get used to this. He could live here, helping to raise this precious little girl who has Mickey's eyebrows and chin, and hair that's red enough to match Ian's already. He and Mickey could be together. They could make a life here.
But not yet. Ian's not ready to say goodbye to everything back home, and he knows there are things he needs to do before he's able to be a father to any kid. As far as Mickey's concerned, Mia's as good as his, but they both know that's not true.
Good thing there are ways--legal ones--to change that.
He feels an arm around his waist and turns to smile at Mickey, who's looking at Mia. He's barely taken his eyes off of her since she was born.
"How is she today?" he asks, and Ian lifts her onto his shoulder once she pulls away from the bottle.
"Good," he replies, patting her back. "She should probably have a bath, though."
"I'll do that," Mickey says, gently stroking her head. "I got this, right, baby girl?"
Ian knows he's saying that as much to convince himself as Ian. He's been nervous as hell about taking care of her by himself, so Ian's putting out feelers for a reliable nanny to help him out once he's got a place to stay.
Mickey suddenly pulls back. "Oh, shit."
Ian stares at him. "What? Are you okay?"
"It's sunny out."
Ian glances at the window. "So?"
"She needs sunscreen!" Mickey says, panicking. "She's a redhead like you! Do they even make baby sunscreen? Can I put it on her? What if she, like, swallows it? That stuff is toxic!"
"Mick, it's okay," Ian says soothingly, putting his free hand on his shoulder. "Yes, there's baby sunscreen. You can start using it when she's about six months old. Until then, just keep her covered up when you go outside. She'll be fine."
"Really?"
"Really."
Mickey sighs. "Thanks, man. God, I'm a fucking trainwreck."
"You're not," Ian assures him, handing Mia over to him. "You're a new dad. I'm pretty sure this is normal."
Mickey scoffs, holding Mia closer. "Nothing feels normal. And I mean nothing. I'm sore in places I didn't know I had, thanks to her."
"We can get you some ice packs when we look at places today," Ian says, heading for the sink to turn it on and adjusting the (pretty cheap, but it was all they could find) plastic bassinet for Mia's bath. Once it's full of reasonably warm water, he lets Mickey take over and starts microwaving some breakfast burritos.
After breakfast, when Mia's clean and in a new onesie, Ian helps Mickey settle her into her carrier and they head out the door.
***
"This is the one."
Mickey's looking around like he couldn't be happier, and Ian feels about the same. The studio apartment's small but not cramped. It's clean with no signs of mold, bedbugs or water damage. There's some storage space, which is good because even though Mickey has barely any belongings, having a kid is going to mean buying shitloads of stuff.
The rent is pretty reasonable, too. The only thing it doesn't have going for it are thin walls and a weird lingering smell in the closets, but if Mickey can live with that, Ian's happy for him.
"What do you think, Mia?" Mickey asks her, even though she's been sleeping since they left their hotel. "You won't have your own room yet, but it's nice, right?"
Ian puts an arm around him. "She'll love it."
"What about you?" Mickey says. "It's a one-year lease. You planning to be back before then?"
Ian wants to say yes, give him an easy answer and something to hold onto. But he doesn't want to lie.
"I'm going to try," he says finally. "There's stuff with my job and my meds and getting an EMT license here that I need to do first. I don't want to half-ass this."
Mickey looks less than pleased with his answer. "And what am I supposed to do, just sit around with a kid all day, waiting for you? Do I look like a fucking housewife?"
"Don't--" Ian goes to cover Mia's ears. "Don't say that. Of course I don't want you to just wait for me. You can get a job, anything you want. But I can't let it get as bad as it did before."
"Before, when?"
"Mick, the last time I didn't have meds and I was manic, I ran off with your kid. I never want to do that again."
Mickey tightens his arms around Mia's carrier. "I get that. But you won't."
"I don't--we don't know that," Ian persists. "I want to be stable, for both of you. I need to take care of myself. And the best way I can do it is not fucking things up with my bipolar."
"I just don't want to do this alone."
"You won't," Ian replies. "You can get some new ID and start over. Mia can grow up here. You'll just have to be careful."
"I know that!" Mickey snaps. "But Christ, Ian, you're the one who's good with kids and taking care of the house and shit. I always had someone to do that stuff for me, or with me. Mandy, Svetlana, you...." He bites his lip. "I can't do this on my own. I'm not saying I want you acting the way you were before, but...shit, man, at least we were together before it all went to hell."
Ian understands Mickey's not trying to be selfish, he's just stuck in survival mode. He wants to feel safe, especially now that he's got another baby to look after and no one else to help out.
"Let's talk to the landlord about the security deposit," Ian says, mostly to get Mickey's mind off of being a single parent. "Then we need to go somewhere."
"Where?"
"You'll see."
***
At the local town hall, Mickey applies for a real photo ID and a birth certificate for Mia. The trick is fudging just enough details so that his information doesn't prompt any background checks. And there's the issue of what name to put under "Father" on the birth certificate.
"I'm not putting his name on there," Mickey gripes. "It's bad enough I gotta put mine under 'Mother,' for fuck's sake."
"I'll put my name down," Ian tells him.
Mickey looks surprised. "Seriously? You know that's legally binding and if anything happens to me, she lives with you, right? You'd be her dad."
Ian smiles at him. "I know. I want this, Mick. I wasn't sure I'd ever have kids, but I want one with you."
Mickey kisses him right there in the hallway, and Ian signs his name proudly across from Mickey's on the paper.
***
Once the paperwork is done and the lease on the apartment is signed, Mickey goes back to the hotel with Mia while Ian grabs them some dinner.
He walks back slowly, savoring the feeling of accomplishment that he's had since they signed Mia's birth certificate. He's doing this right. He's looking out for all of them, but also keeping his own needs in mind. It's not running away, it's laying groundwork for when he comes back.
And yet, something's missing.
He walks by a tiny shop, glances at the display window, and stops in his tracks.
That's it.
***
When he gets back to their room, Mia is crying.
"Somebody's overtired," Ian guesses, watching Mickey pace the small room, jiggling her in his arms to get her to calm down.
"Yeah, that makes two of us," Mickey sighs. "Yevy used to like being sung to, but I can't fu...dging sing."
Ian laughs out loud. "Did you just censor yourself?"
Mickey looks embarrassed. "I don't want her first words to be 'Fuck you.' At least not until she's two."
"Try humming," Ian suggests, putting the bag of Chinese food down on the bureau. "She won't know the difference."
Mickey takes his advice, and for a minute Ian just watches them. He loves seeing Mickey bond with his daughter. He remembers how much Mick resisted being a dad the first time around. It took him weeks to hold or change Yevy without being asked. This time, even though Mia was as unplanned as Yevy, Mickey's stepping up all on his own.
And now she's Ian's daughter, too--at least, as far as the Mexican government is concerned. He can't really wrap his mind around it. Two weeks ago, if someone had told him this was where he was about to end up, he would have called them crazy. Delusional, even. But here he was, and he was happy.
"Ay, we gonna eat or just stand around all night?"
Ian comes back to reality and sets out the containers. Mickey puts Mia down gently in her hotel-issue crib and grabs some food for himself.
"I'm taking a bus back across the border tomorrow afternoon," Ian says as they eat. "I got a prepaid phone for you, and I'll call you every week until I figure out when I can get back."
Mickey nods. "Sounds good." He sits down on the bed, wincing a little.
"Still sore?"
Mickey shrugs. "Better than I was, but I don't think I'm up for a night of farewell fucking."
Ian snorts. "That's okay, we can do anything you want. I guess I kind of owe you that much."
"Hey, don't be like that," Mickey insists. "I'm always going to be in your debt just for the way you helped deliver Mia." He glances over at her crib. "I don't think I could've done it without you."
Ian disagrees, but doesn't say as much. He's really glad he was there, because the thought of how many things could have gone wrong terrifies him.
They chat about stuff that doesn't really matter just to fill the silence. Ian gets a call from one of the nannies he talked to earlier that week, Flora. He gives his phone to Mickey, who talks to her for ten minutes and looks relieved when he hangs up.
"She's coming by tomorrow for an interview," he says with a smile. "Hope she's good. She's got three kids at home and she's been doing this for ten years, so she must be."
Ian smiles back. "Hope so." He starts tossing empty containers in the trash, then remembers what he stopped to buy for Mickey. He digs the pre-paid flip phone out of his pocket and hands it to him.
"Here."
"Thanks," Mickey says, then turns it over and sees what's taped to the back. He freezes.
"...The fuck is this?"
Ian's breath catches in his throat and he starts trembling, but he plows on ahead.
"Mick, will you marry me?"
Mickey's jaw drops, and he blinks up at Ian like he didn't hear him. "What?"
Ian isn't sure if he should get down on one knee or not, so he repeats the question.
"Mickey Milkovich, will you marry me?"
Mickey's eyes are actually tearing up. "Yeah. Yes. Fuck yes, Gallagher!"
Ian laughs and practically throws himself at Mickey, who's half-risen from the bed to grab him and they end up in an awkward pile on the bed, kissing like there's no tomorrow. It isn't until Mickey groans and shifts under him that Ian props himself up on his elbows to take his weight off.
"Sorry, did I hurt you?"
"No, I'm good," Mickey says, holding his stomach. "Just tender."
"Where's the ring?" Ian says, glancing around them. He grabs the phone that Mickey dropped on the floor, with the simple silver band taped to the back. "You don't have to wear it, you can just keep it--"
"Fuckin' A I'm gonna wear it!" Mickey says, grabbing the phone out of Ian's hand and tearing off the tape. He holds the ring hesitantly, glancing at his hands.
"Which one does this go on?"
Ian shakes his head. "It's technically a wedding ring, but you can wear it on whichever hand you want. It doesn't matter."
Mickey slides it onto his left hand and looks at it. "Nice. Now I won't get hit on so much."
Ian laughs. "Did you get hit on a lot before?"
"I spent time in gay clubs and prison, what d'you think?"
They kiss again, and neither of them can stop smiling.
"So are we setting a date, or--?"
"Anytime," Ian breathes. "But I want to be back for good before then. Can you wait that long?"
Mickey leans his forehead against Ian's. "I asked you to wait for me for eight years once, remember?"
"I don't like to, but yeah."
"Well, get your ass back here before Mia's in grade school. Can you do that?"
***
The next day at the bus stop, Ian doesn't want to leave them.
He's holding Mia, kissing her head and promising that he'll come back with tons of presents and show her picture (of which he's taken about a dozen, easily) to all her new aunts and uncles.
"They're going to love you so much," he tells her. "You even look like your aunt Debbie, and you've got a little cousin who's close to your age." He hesitates. "I don't know when they'll get to meet you, but I promise they will someday."
"Your bus is coming," Mickey says, and Ian's heart clenches when he sees the Greyhound coming towards them. It's too soon. He needs more time.
"Mick--"
"Ian, you are getting on that bus if I have to throw you in with the luggage," Mickey cuts him off with a finger in his face. "Go home, get your shit together, and get back here. We'll figure everything else out later. Okay?"
Ian's never been more glad to be marrying this man. "Okay." He hands Mia back to Mickey.
"Say hi to everyone back home for me," Mickey says, looking down and away like he does when he tries not to cry.
"I will. And hey, if Mandy calls me back--"
"I'll talk to her first," Mickey interrupts. "You were right before. I need to tell her." He smiles down at the baby. "She's gonna be thrilled."
By now the bus is here and Ian can't stall any longer. He hoists his backpack onto his shoulder and Mickey pulls him in with one arm for a long hug. Ian grips his shirt and murmurs, "I love you."
"Love you too." Mickey lets go and forces a smile. "You know where to find us."
Ian smiles, braces himself and boards the bus. Once he's in his seat, he turns to the window to wave as the bus pulls away.
Mickey waves back, his ring glinting in the sun.