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Ian’s losing his mind.
As soon as the thought enters his head, he backpedals, He’s not losing his mind. He’s not going crazy. What’s happening right now is that he’s consumed with worry over the fact that his little girl is crying nonstop and there doesn’t seem to be an end in sight. No matter what he tries, Mikayla just keeps wailing.
It’s a combination of everything, really. It’s like the perfect storm of shitty timing and infant pitfalls.
“Princess, please,” Ian pleads despite knowing it’s futile to rationalize with a baby. “Please,” he repeats, voice desperate and breaking. He’s got his daughter in his arms, her cheek pressed against his chest as he supports her diapered butt with one palm and cradles the back of her head with the other. He’s been pacing the house for what seems like an hour, knees bending into a bounce and trying too sooth Mikayla. His lips press to the softness of her hair and keeps them there. Mikayla’s incessant wavering cries are breaking his heart. “Mik, sweetie…”
Mikayla cuts him off with a louder wail. She is clinging to her daddy, first curled around the fabric of his t-shirt. She looks as desperate to stop crying as Ian does. Tears well in the corners of her eyes and her cries get hung up on the fact that she needs to take a shaky breath.
Shifting his hold on Mikayla, Ian frees up a hand so that he can dial Mickey’s number. It goes to voicemail, which means the man’s probably up to his elbows in live wires and circuit breakers. Since Mikayla’s been on this earth, they’ve developed a habit of picking up their phones every time they ring unless they’re in the middle of doing something where a distraction could lead to bodily harm. Ian gets that but he still gives an exasperated sigh. He’s not sure why; he doesn’t even know what Mickey would be able to do about a crying infant if he had picked up the phone. And Ian has no idea why he feels like a fish out of water either. He’s been around sick babies before. His siblings may have pretty resilient immune systems now, but they have all gone thought their fair share of illnesses. “Fuck this,” Ian says under his breath. He doesn’t know what to do with his crying daughter but her pediatrician will.
“Come on, princess,” Ian says against his daughter’s temple. He manages to get her strapped into her carrier and totes her out to his truck.
***
Ian feels like an idiot.
He feels like a complete newbie; he supposes that’s exactly what he is, despite the fact that he comes with a little bit of child rearing experience under his belt. Mikayla has an ear infection. It’s nothing earth shattering but Ian’s too close to the situation. To him, all he knows are the facts, the facts that consist of Mikayla crying her head off and Ian, being the useless dad that he is, is unable to stop them.
So, yeah, he feels like an idiot.
Even though Dr. Riley smiled at Ian when he showed up cradling a very grumpy Mikayla in his arms and said that it’s perfectly normal for first time parents to not know what to do when their baby suffers their first ear infection, Ian still feels like an idiot. Mikayla is Ian’s daughter. Ian should know what to do when she’s in pain or feeling sick. He should be able to make it better.
But Ian didn’t know how.
It makes Ian want to crumble.
Instead, he pulls his shit together and deals with the fact that he’s got a cranky daughter to take care of and can’t get lost in a pity party. He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes and letting it out slowly. Once he’s refocused, he unfastens Mikayla from her carrier and pulls her into his arms. She’s not crying so much now that she’s got a round of antibiotics in her and the doctor allowed for a numbing drop in her right ear.
She molds to Ian’s chest like that’s all she’s ever wanted in life. Her fist resume their task of holding on to Ian’s shirt and she snuggles into him. She’s not wailing, but she’s making her little puppy whimpers, making it clear that she’s not a happy camper.
“Shh, I’ve got you,” Ian whispers at her, kissing her head and breathing her in. Her red hair tickles his nose but he loves that she’s found a way to come out looking a lot like Mickey and a little like him. Kissing her once more, he sets to work making her a bottle. “You’ve gotta be hungry, huh?” She’s been too distracted by discomfort and hasn’t eaten all morning. She woke up crying and stayed that way. Bottle in hand, he decides to feed her while resting in bed. It’s clear that they’re both exhausted on different levels: emotionally for Ian and maybe a little of everything for Mikayla.
Once Ian’s propped up against the headboard, he gets Mikayla settled in the crook of one arm and tries to get her to eat. She’s fussy at first, head twisting away from the nipple as she whines. It takes a little trickery on Ian’s part to get the nipple in her mouth and she stops fighting him once the formula hits her tongue. “There you go,” Ian praises, allowing his lips to smile for the first time in hours. He feels some of the tension bleed from his body as Mikayla suckles on the bottle, finally filling her tiny belly with a meal.
Mikayla opens her blue eyes. They’re sleepy but she manages to hold Ian’s gaze.
Ian’s never going to be able to get over the way his daughter stares and him and Mickey. It’s what’s making him feel like shit right now because she’s looking at him like he’s the entire world. Like he’s able to keep her safe and protect her from anything. She’s got it all wrong, because Ian let Mikayla cry too long for his liking before his brain came up with the brilliant idea to take her to the pediatrician.
“Kayla,” Ian breathes out. “God, I love you.”
And Mikayla, in all her infant perfectionism, gives him a milky, gummy smile around the bottle’s nipple. The smile lasts a few seconds before her lips start working more furiously to pull at the formula. While she does so, she wiggles her body into Ian’s arm like she has no intention of going anywhere. He watches her until she’s done eating, Ian gently lifting her so he can burp her over his shoulder. With Ian’s flat palm rubbing soothing circles over her spine, she falls asleep there, pulled down by how tired the turmoil of the day made her.
Once Ian’s aware that she’s asleep, he shifts her. He and Mickey have rules about allowing Mikayla to sleep in bed with them, but he also knows they’ve both broken those rules. Sometimes, he and Mickey need to have her close.
It’s selfish really.
Ian settles Mikayla on her back in the space beside him. Her arms are thrown over her head, palms facing up so Ian can trace each little finger with the tip of his own. He slides down so that he’s laying on his side, curling protectively around his daughter. He’s tired but he doesn’t want to sleep; he just wants to stay here like this. Mikayla’s fine and even though he knows he’s overreacting, Ian is disappointed in himself. He wants to be better. He doesn’t want to fail.
The sound of the front door opening lets him know Mickey’s home. The man’s early enough that it’s easy for Ian to realize Mickey’s cut his work day short. Last they spoke, Mickey was returning Ian’s call in the middle of Mikayla’s doctor appointment. Ian picked up and gave him the run down, telling his boyfriend that their daughter is fine. He’d told Mickey that he didn’t have to rush home. Ian’s really not surprised that the man didn’t listen.
Ian doesn’t move, he just lets Mickey find him and Mikayla the way they are.
“Hey,” Mickey says, the mattress dipping under his weight. He’s reaching across Ian’s body, using one palm to brace himself so he can hover over both Ian and Mikayla. He’s radiating all different shades of concern. “She okay?”
“Yeah, she just fell asleep.” Ian realizes that his voice sounds like it is being dragged over broken glass.
“You okay?” The aim of Mickey’s question is spot on. He grabs Ian’s chin and forces the younger man to look him in the eye in such a way that Ian knows he gets it. No one can read Ian as well as Mickey can.
“I’ve been better.” He doesn’t wait for more probing and Ian lets out a long sigh. “I’m such an idiot.”
“Because princess got an ear infection?” Mickey combs his fingers through Ian’s hair to push it out of his face.
“No. Because I’m the idiot who had no idea what to do. And hearing her cry like that? I mean…I know babies cry. But our baby? I don’t want to hear her cry like that. There was nothing I could do to stop it.” Ian shifts into Mickey’s touch.
“Like I would know what to do? Shit, Ian, I’m sorry you had to deal with her getting sick but it’s a good thing it was you instead of me. Hell, I don’t know what to do about ear infections. You’ve got enough Gallaghers running around, didn’t they get ear infections?”
“This is different, Mick. I mean…I know what to do but I just…I couldn’t think. She kept crying and…” Ian lets the words fall away and exhales loudly.
“And now she’s fine.” Mickey shoves Ian gently, making enough room for himself to lay down next to Ian. “But you’re not.”
“You shouldn’t have come home from work. I’m sorry. I’m fine.”
“Fuck you, you’re not.” Mickey snorts. “You know it’s okay if you’re not okay, right?”
Conscious of Mikayla, Ian turns so that he’s facing Mickey. “I dunno. Is it?”
“Yeah.”
“I feel like an idiot” But when Ian looks up at Mickey, he knows he alone in that thought. Mickey’s eyes show nothing but support and understanding. “You’re so good with her, Mick. I…I’m…”
“You’re amazing with her, Ian. Do you even realize? For two men who had no idea what we’re doing…I think we’re doing a pretty great job.” Mickey tries to smile but his face can’t shake the concern he has for his boyfriend. They stare at each other, synching up.
And then all the words tumble out of Ian’s mouth. The silence between them is flooded with all the things he’s been feeling and they start to make sense. Ian understands he’s gotten snagged on a common parenting hang-up. It’s normal. Ian’s been so focused on trying to be everything that he’s gotten in over his head. It’s okay to have setbacks. Mickey’s right, Mikayla’s fine and she’s going to continue to be fine. She’s going to be great.
Mickey presses a kiss to Ian’s temple. “I kept kicking myself for not answering the phone when you called. I was worried too, if that makes you feel any better.”
“It kinda does,” Ian admits honestly. He feels tethered to earth now that Mickey’s here. It was just an ear infection, but it was the crying that shattered Ian. Now that he has Mikayla contently slumbering beside him and Mickey understands exactly where he’s coming from, Ian can breathe again.
“I’m glad I came home.” Mickey whispers.
“Me too.” Ian knocks his forehead against Mickey’s. “Thanks for not thinking I’m an idiot.”
“Oh, you’re still an idiot. Just not because of your role as Mikayla’s father.” Mickey’s lips hitch up on one side, eyes crinkling in the corners.
“Dick,” Ian quips, but the comeback is soft with an affectionate form of familiarity. Ian’s too hard on himself, he knows that, but sometimes he feels like he needs to be to keep himself in check. It’s just how it is. But this instance, Mikayla’s ear infection, has proven to them that they’re human. They’ll probably laugh about overreacting later.
But that doesn’t mean Mickey won’t freak out the next time they can’t get Mikayla to settle down. Or that Ian won’t be right there beside him.