I should be finishing Surfacing right now… but this wanted to come out. I'm still new to writing in this fandom and getting back on the horse of writing in general so sorry if it's not as detailed and flowing as most! So, this takes place about a year and a half after the end of season 3. Ian's been gone for a year and a half, mostly will be canon with maybe a few additions here and there in form of memories and what not. The rest of the situation will be explained as it goes. I couldn't get this idea out of my head, I hope you enjoy! It IS an Ian and Mickey story, but it's pretty slow burn because Mickey has to work through some things within him as does everyone else , so bear with me. Promise it'll be worth it =] Going to do my very best to keep Mick and everyone else in character as much as possible, but I think being a single Daddy for a little while now would have given him the slight softness I express here. Ian will be back eventually, not sure when yet. I was too impatient to get this beta'd, so forgive any spelling or grammatical errors that I'm sure are everywhere. Enjoy! =]

I don't own anything, except any of the original characters. Complete copyright on them! My song inspiration for this chapter is "Cover Up" by Trapt.


Put the mask back on, put the mask back on
Don't take it off until everybodie's gone
No disguise has ever lasted so long
You created your own little world,
Where you could always be different
A place where the rules do not apply,
You could never be denied
You took advantage of a good thing
And now the void you filled is empty


Karma really was a bitch.

That was honestly the only explanation Mickey Milkovich could come up with for the FUBAR soap opera he called his life these days. He didn't really know how he'd gotten to this point, had just been coasting through each day, going through the motions just to get by.

Each day he had to ignore the ache in his chest that flared painfully any time he saw a prick in an army uniform, or a flash of red hair out of the corner of his eye. It had been a good year and a half now since he'd seen the only red hair he actually wanted to, but that was sort of the point wasn't it?

Life was, well better than he had expected it to be this time last year. Considering this time last year he was being saddled with a Russian whore and a false breeder life just to placate a man that didn't honestly give two shits about him. It made his inside burns with fury, but it was what it was.

The cry to his left shook him out of his reverie, and he quickly finished stocking the beer he had in his hands into the fridge before moving to the baby screaming for his attention.

"Shhh…" He murmured, still not fully used to the softness he was surprised seemed to come naturally when it came to this little life as he reached towards her face. His little life. And his alone.

As the irony of his fucked up life would have it, Svetlana died giving birth to the little girl staring up at him with wide, blue eyes. His eyes, thank whoever the fuck for small mercies because if she looked too much like Lana he didn't know that he'd be able to handle that. It probably had more to do with all the drugs she'd taken in her life before the pregnancy; her body had just given out. He wouldn't have wished death on her, it wasn't her fault his dad was a psychopath that had royally screwed up both of their lives. But it wasn't like he was heartbroken she was gone and he wasn't trapped in a farce of a marriage or anything either.

Throughout the pregnancy, he'd been hoping the baby would pop out black or Asian like Karen Jackson's baby had. Just so he could tell himself he wasn't fully trapped in this lie for his whole life. But, she hadn't. And when he saw the dark tuft of hair, the pale white skin and the bright blue eyes that matched his own his heart had clenched in something akin to tenderness as a fierce need to protect this child rose in him and he knew she was his in that moment as much as he'd wanted to believe otherwise. Surprisingly enough, it turned out Mickey wasn't half bad at being a father. The little shit warmed him in places he didn't want to admit existed, and he found himself being unable to deny her anything and he didn't even get mad at her for not shutting up when he was trying to sleep anymore. It wasn't her fault she couldn't change her own diaper or feed herself, or that it was hard to get a good lungful of oxygen in the Milkovich household with the bitter taste of meth and misery in the air.

As soon as he was in her line of vision, the cries cut off. The baby instantly latched onto his fingers, sucking his finger with the 'K' tattooed on it into her mouth as far as she could before he quickly jerked it back. He was pretty good about being half assed clean these days, didn't want her catching any kind of bacteria or grossness from his lack of hygiene but he'd been moving boxes and stocking shit all day and his hands weren't his first choice of things he wanted his daughter putting in her mouth. He made sure as shit she was always nice and safe and clean, and if anyone had anything to say otherwise they could just fuck off.

Pale blue orbs flicked to the clock, before he looked back down at his daughter and couldn't help but smile a little bit at her as she cooed at him. "Just another hour and then we can go home and I'll give you some cranberry juice before we put you down for the night, yeah?"

For some reason, cranberry juice was the only thing she would drink before bed at night. So he'd learned quickly that whenever he wanted her to sleep, give her some of it and she was out like a light.

Her ecstatic burble was enough of a response for him, not that he really believed she understood him but he knew his voice soothed her for some weird reason. Must mean she loved him or some shit. Not like she really had a choice, he was really all she had. Poor kid. She was destined to be fucked up, just like the rest of them.

He had kind of made it his mission to make sure she made it out as unscathed as possible. Taking up full time hours at the Kash N Grab because well fuck, he was already comfortable there and Linda kind of understood his situation. She was too wrapped up in her own toddler and pre-adolescents to truly care, but she let him bring the baby to work when Mandy couldn't watch her and didn't give him too much shit for being half fucked out of his mind when he was having a particularly bad day. Besides, it was beneficial for her to have a Milkovich working there, intimidating as he always was. Good for business. He wanted to eventually be able to do something more, maybe take up that job tarring roofs or be a bartender or just something to at least attempt at giving his kid some semblance of normalcy and a little better quality of life than living at the Milkovich house with his father and brothers would give her. At least Mandy shared his sentiments as well, and did her best to keep anything harmful away from the girl.

Terry was still terrorizing his children on a daily basis, and Mickey was more frequently that target than ever before since Lana had died. Guess that meant the faggot in him was showing more, fuck if he knew. He just shut the fuck up and took it; the harsh, unnecessary beatings and the cruel words and taunts. Because really, what could he do? He had a ten month old baby girl to look out for, and he sure as fuck couldn't afford his own place in the current situation he was in so he was trapped. He'd keep his mouth shut as long as Terry kept the roof over his and his daughter's head that was all he really cared about at this point. Especially because Terry wasn't stupid enough to even go near his girl, which was a fucking good thing because Mickey didn't know how he'd handle it if Terry was even breathing on her with her so tiny and fragile.

Just as he was finishing up unloading the last case of beer lost in his own head, the bell over the door jingled to announce another being's presence in the store. Eyes flicking up swiftly to check out the person and decide whether his girl was safe where she was in her little rocker on the counter by the register, he was satisfied when he saw a petite brunette girl with a baby on her hip and went back to his business. No threat detected.

After a minute of the girl moving around the store and grabbing a handful of things, Mickey made his way to the register to ring her out. Not bothering to meet her eyes while doing so, he quickly bagged the contents she'd spilled on the counter before totally everything up and speaking in a bored voice. "Fifteen seventy five."

"Can I have a pack of Marlboro Reds too?" Came a soft reply, and Mickey couldn't explain it but something in her voice made his eyes finally lift to latch onto hers.

He didn't move right away, taking in the sight of this girl as she just stared right back. She was very pretty, almost unfairly so if you went for that team and he could imagine lots of girls hating her right away for it because it was a very natural kind of pretty. The way Mandy was, when she didn't have all that shit caked on her face. This girl didn't have barely any make up on at all, if she did the large purple bags under her eyes wouldn't be showing so much, standing out against her skin that was almost even paler than his. Said eyes were a shade of intensely deep sapphire blue, he'd never seen anything like them before. They were almost teal they were so blue. Her sharp cheekbones seem to be sunken in, curving down into a heart shaped jaw around bitten and swollen lips. Her long milk chocolate brown hair fell down below her elbows in messy waves and her stance screamed exhaustion. Like she had no life left in her and was forcing herself to make it through every minute that passed. Something in her eyes told him she was very lonely, and he didn't know how he knew that. Just did. She wasn't very tall at all, standing at maybe five foot three at most and her frame was slight. Her clothes looked ragged and rumpled, as if she hadn't changed for a day or two and she reeked of baby and smoke.

The baby clinging to her side was fucking adorable and he couldn't help but smile a bit at the little one. So he had a soft spot for little girls now, fucking sue him. She had hair like her mother's maybe just a tiny bit lighter, more of a chestnut brown than the deep brown of the older girls, her skin a had a little more color and her eyes were a freaky warm amber color. Like the color light brown eyes are when the sun shines in them, almost like honey. She smiled widely at him, before her eyes landed on his daughter and she squealed and tried to burst of her mother's arms in excitement.

"No, hold still!" The girl sighed, holding her a bit tighter even through the insistent squirms.

Realizing he hadn't acknowledged the girls request and was just staring at her like a fucking creep, he grunted in answer and reached up to grab said cigarettes and added it to her bill. As he told her the new total he reached in front of the register and grabbed a lollipop before handing it to the little girl in front of him, taking pity on the mother as she struggled to keep a grip on her daughter.

Distraction working like a charm, the little girl snatched the sucker from him and popped it into her mouth. After happily licking it for a few moments as her mom pulled some bills from her back pocket and set them on the counter with a look of gratitude sent his way, he found himself unable to look away from the light brown eyes that seemed to hold too much wisdom for her young age. She couldn't be more than two, but she held his stare and grinned widely at him.

"Hi!" She said around the candy, waving a bit at him.

The corner of his mouth twitched, and he half waved back at her with one hand while the other gave her mother her change. "Heya."

"What's your name?" The little girl asked curiously, tilting her head to the side like she found him to be the most interesting thing she'd ever seen.

"Mickey." He answered simply, one hand dropping to let his own daughter absently play with his fingers. "What's yours?"

"Marley. Lots of people have pretty blue eyes, but I like yours cause they're pretty but sad like Mommy's."

Eyebrows quirking at the strangely profound statement of the little girl her mother shrugged at him in ways of answer, like she was more than use to the intelligence of her daughter. He was a little shocked, and quite frankly was not looking forward to the innocent bluntness of toddlers when his girl got to that age.

"She's uh…" The mother started, but he held his hand up to show her no explanation was necessary. She smiled at him weakly, and it didn't touch her eyes. Her feet seemed rooted to the spot even though she had her grocery bag in her hand, staring at him slightly. "What's your daughter's name?"

Mickey hesitated for a moment, shifting a little awkwardly. He hated when people asked him this. Hated having to explain. Hated that it made him seem detached, like he didn't care about the little shit.

"Doesn't have one yet." He told the girl, waiting for the bewildered look he always got.

"How old is she?"

"Nine months."

"Nine months and you haven't named her yet, what the fuck is wrong with you?" She scoffed, smirking disbelievingly at him with a little chuckle.

That was when he decided he liked this girl. She didn't reprimand him like everyone else did, saying how cold it was to not name his girl. Like it was a form of child abuse or some shit. He just hadn't thought of or found anything he felt suited her, didn't want her saddled with some stupid name the rest of her life.

Scowling anyways, Mickey motioned towards Marley. "Shouldn't you be getting her to bed?"

The girls eyes lowered to the ground a bit abashedly and her slender shoulders rose and fell again. "Can you point me in the direction of a decent hotel?"

And of course he should have realized she wasn't from around here. Didn't have the Chicago drawl to her voice, didn't have the South Side toughness in her eyes. He didn't know why he did what he did next, maybe it was because he saw something of himself in her. That emptiness, like a piece of her was missing.

Maybe she was half whole like he was, coasting through life for the girl in her arms.

"No good hotels around here. You passing through or what?" He asked, trying to prod at her situation a bit more without making it obvious. Something about her just held his attention. He felt like there was a reason she was standing in front of him, like the world had brought her through the door from some kind of higher reason; not that he believed in that kind of shit, but still he couldn't shake the feeling.

"I don't even know." The honesty in her voice was raw, and she sounded like a lost little girl in a big world that wanted to eat her up.

An idea sparked to life in his mind. It was the dark hair and the blue eyes that made his next words exit his mouth. She reminded him slightly of Mandy, and if his little sister was in some random town with a cute little girl attached to her he sure as hell would want someone to help her out. And he didn't want anything happening to the sweet baby in her arms, either. Not to mention it would look good for his dad, save him from having to pick up some random skank and bribe her with speed so he didn't have to actually fuck her this week to keep Terry off his back. "I have some room at my place if you'd want to, I don't know crash until you figure it out."

Chocolate brown eyebrows furrowed. "You don't even know my name much less seem like the type of guy to even consider something like that. And you're gay, so I know you don't want to get in my pants. What gives?"

That's what he got for trying to be a decent fucking human being. His mouth opened to snap at her that how the hell did she know what kind of guy he was, when her comment on his sexuality registered and his jaw dropped a bit before anger took over his features. Thankfully, no one else was in the store or his head might have exploded. "What the fuck are you talking about?!"

Sapphire eyes rolling, the girl switched Marley to her other hip before answering carefully, seeming to pick up on the fact that she'd offended him. "What, is it a secret? I'm sorry, my gaydar is insanely accurate. I just know these things. Secrets safe with me don't worry." Her eyes flickered to his daughter, like she wanted to ask about how he had a kid if he was gay but she wisely didn't.

For once in his life, Mickey was speechless. How the fuck did she know that? Did something like gaydar really fucking exist? Apparently. Here he thought he was so good at hiding and keeping up the image, and this girl waltzes in and within seconds sees right through him. Were other people able to do the same thing? How many people looked at him and knew instantly? She didn't even seem to care in the slightest, like it was totally normal for a thug of Chicago South Side with tattooed knuckles and rough words to be a faggot with a nine month old kid working at a convenience store. Not only that, but she apologized for calling him out as if she'd hurt his feelings.

And it was probably that fact that tugged the next words from his mouth, because her ability to see through his façade and yet let him be reminded him of someone else that did the same. Or had used to, anyways.

"What's your name?" Mickey asked, rather than respond to her comment.

"Brooklyn."

"That's a fucking borough, not a name." He sneered, one hand subconsciously reaching over to pull his daughter's blanket up a little further on her. She was snoring happily, having dozed off at some point during his conversation with this strange girl.

"Yeah, and Mickey is a fucking cartoon mouse, do you really wanna fucking get into this with me?"

Fair enough.


"So who does the meth I smell?" Brooklyn asked from her perch on the couch, feet curled under her as she sipped from the bottle of beer he'd handed her after she'd managed to get Marley to sleep in a makeshift bed next to his girls.

"My dad." He replied, no other explanation needed as far as he was concerned. He'd invited her to stay the night so she didn't have to get raped trying to find somewhere to stay or have Marley kidnapped or something, not to poke into his personal life which she was trying really fucking hard to do anyways. The initial shyness he'd picked up from her seemed to be slowly fading and the more he tried to just be a dick and deflect her curiosity a small smile would just rise on her lips. Like she liked him even more for every asshole comment he made. What the hell was up with that?

"Ah."

He didn't miss the longing the sparked into her features for a second before she hid it quickly. He filed that information away, but let it drop for now. How they'd ended up sitting next to each other on the couch talking over some beers and smokes was beyond him. Mickey hadn't planned for this to happen or anything, but something in the brunette just struck something in him.

"Where you from, anyway?" He probed a little not because he cared to know or anything, just so she would get off of the subject of his life.

"Seattle."

The look he gave her spoke volumes. "The fuck you doing here?"

Her little shoulders shrugged as cerulean eyes fell to the floor, and he noticed how the skin seemed to stretch almost sickly over her collar bones. He wanted to go make her some food and shove it down her throat. It was disgusting, really. Skeletal.

"My husband fucked off somewhere, no clue where. I haven't heard from him in over a year." The tone of her voice said there was more to the story, but fuck if he was gonna push her. It wasn't any of his business if she didn't feel like sharing. "I just kind of needed to get out, and ended up here. I don't really have anywhere in particular to go; Marley's all I really have now. So I guess I'm just kind of wandering until I find a reason to stick around somewhere."

And that was when the idea began formulating as his father's words from months ago echoed in his thoughts.

"Don't think you're out of this just because that skank died, boy. You best go find yourself a new woman to settle down with."

The more he thought about it, the better it seemed. What did he have to lose from it? She wasn't half bad company, he'd only known her for a few hours but he was nothing if not good at reading people even if he didn't usually care enough to assess what he saw. She clearly needed help with her daughter and, he could tell already, with herself. He needed his dad off his back, and persuading hookers and junkies with drugs to fake fuck him to placate Terry was getting really old.

He'd punch anyone straight in the face that hinted he wasn't a fully capable father by his damn self, but he supposed his girl could use some kind of good female influence in her life other than Mandy.

Fuck it.

The bright smiled she flashed at him when he suggested his idea to her made a warmth spread through him, and he decided he wanted to make that smile appear more often. He owed some good to the world after all the havoc he'd wrecked, after the wonderful person he'd all but destroyed-

Shaking that train of thought off before it could get too gay for his liking he pulled out a joint from his cigarette pack and sparked it up, passing it to her after a minute. It seemed like she wanted to talk more, a look of concentration on her face, but exhaustion took over and before he knew it she was curling up asleep next to him, head lolling onto his shoulder.

The dark haired boy studied her features unashamedly now, since she was unconscious. She really was a gorgeous girl, but there was darkness to her beauty. Like life had zapped some of it from her. Even gay he could still see that, could see how straight guys would most likely fall over her without much effort on her part. He wondered vaguely what had happened to her to make those bags under her eyes, and the despair show clearly in every line of her face when she wasn't conscious to smooth it over.

And why the fuck did he even care? He was only doing this because it was damn convenient, the world had quite literally just thrown the opportunity at him and fuck if he wasn't going to take it.

Sighing, he smoked one last cigarette and finished his beer before he hooked his arms under her knees and shoulders, carrying her to his bed and depositing her gently on the comforter. An urge rose in him, and for reason he couldn't explain a hand reached out to brush the dark tendrils of hair off her face and a small smile flickered over her sleeping lips. His fingers retracted like he'd been burned, but he sat next to her on the bed before laying back.

He didn't even have enough time to think how funny it was that there was a woman in his bed and he didn't feel the need to grab the sleeping bag stashed under the mattress from when Lana had been around. The warmth radiating off of the brunette was actually slightly comforting, rather than repulsing. He found himself laying maybe an inch or two closer to her than was necessary, absorbing that heat and feeling his eyes slip closed before he could berate himself for being so impulsive these last few hours.

Something told him he'd made the right decision, had taken the lemons and made fucking lemonade or whatever the fucking saying was.

He just hoped this didn't come back to bite him in the ass, like everything else seemed to.


Cover up, cover up don't let them see the real you
Don't question anything you do
You have always kept it quiet
But your conscience haunts you every time you choose
Has anyone ever seen your real face?


Authors Note:: So this chapter went a little different from how I had initially planned, but I'm pretty happy with it. It's going to be difficult and fun developing Mickey and Brooklyn's little arrangement. Sorry if it seemed rushed, I just didn't really know how else to go about it but I hope everyone likes it! Things will get more detailed soon as far as Mickey's current life situation. Brooklyn is actually a character from some of my original work, but the idea to intersect her and Mickey's heartbreak was irresistible. You'll see why =] Anyways, feedback please! I tried my best to keep in character, let me know how I did! Thanks for reading!