Chapter Four: The Blame Game

I was sitting in the hospital bed, hands folded, phone tossed where I'd left it, staring dead ahead, and the hospital workers seemed to think that leaving me alone was the best way to deal with me at the moment. Now that my heart rate had slowed, the notion that they wanted to monitor me was a nuisance, to say the least, and yet I truly didn't know what I wanted in those moments. I felt myself snapping to attention, however, when the curtain was pushed back, and I looked up at the nurse who stood there.

"Miss Milkovich?"

"Yeah?" I asked, knowing that, despite everything, I shouldn't appear rude to her. "Is everything going okay?"

"Your nephew is just fine this morning," she assured me, and I nodded, relieved. "But there's someone here to see you…"

"Here to see me?" I asked.

"Yeah," she said softly. "After last night, we weren't sure if you wanted us to call anyone. Your cousin gave us a phone number, and we called it, so now someone's here."

I swallowed then, knowing that Franny meant well, but unsure as to whom she would have called to be here for me. "All right," I said. "They can come back."

"Awesome," the nurse said, letting go of the curtain and stepping back. "She's given the go-ahead for you to go back."

I watched as the curtain ruffled slightly, alerting me to someone standing just behind it, and I found myself straightening up automatically when the person arrived. "Oh," I said, slightly surprised to see them. "Hi."

"Morning, sweetheart," my mother replied.

. . .

The pains that I was experiencing were not too unlike period cramps, so I decided that it was nothing I needed to worry about as I walked down the street, back towards home, after an uneventful day at school. Keeping your mouth shut for several weeks after you were raped was difficult, but not impossible. I remembered seeing Pops and Uncle Ian coming back to the house that night, their faces covered in blood and their knuckles bruised and purple…

"Please, tell me you didn't fucking kill them!" I said, my voice shaking as I worked double time to get some wet rags for them, my hands trembling as I offered them up.

"No, we didn't fucking kill him," Pops replied, dragging the rag all over his face. "Jesus, we know how to beat a guy's ass without killing him…"

"She doesn't need to hear this," Uncle Ian put in.

"The hell she doesn't," Pops said, tossing down the rag he held and holding out his hands for another one. "You're a Milkovich, Iana," he told me, his voice firm as he continued wiping off his face, "and my daughter. I know a thing or two about what we can handle…"

"For Christ's sake, Mick, she still a kid," Uncle Ian said, hesitating from completing the ritual of cleaning off his face.

"I'm not a kid." The firmness in my tone caused the both of them to look at me. "I may be young, but I haven't been a kid since Mom dumped me, Clayton, and Fionn here."

Uncle Ian sighed. "Iana…"

"No," I went on, in the same tone of voice, "I'm not a fucking kid. Pops is right. Despite how fucked this all is, I can handle it," I said, my eyes shifting over to him. "I would tell you if I couldn't handle it. You're not hearing me say it, so I can."

My mind snapped back to the present then as another jarring pain enveloped me then, and unlocked the front door of the house and stepped inside. Looking around, it was plain to see that nobody was around, and I kept my teeth clenched to prevent myself from crying out as I shut and locked the door behind me. I walked up the stairs as fast as I could, shutting and locking myself in my bedroom before I tossed my backpack down onto my bed and made my way towards the bathroom, shuffling my feet as they went from wood floor to tile, unknowing what I would find as soon as I was able to look.

Stumbling into the bathroom, I was completely overcome then with another jolt of pain, which caused me to double over and grip onto the bathroom counter. I lifted my head then and gazed at myself in the mirror; my hair was sticking to the sides of my face and neck, while my eyes were wide in fear, my skin completely white. I felt my hands shaking as I struggled to keep a good grip on the counter with one hand, while my other hand made a grab for my pants, yanking them downward then as it felt as if something was attempting to escape from me. I lost my grip on the counter then, falling to my knees then, before I swung my legs out from under me and yanked off my pants all the way.

I let out a scream then as whatever it was came out of me, and my eyes became lost in the pool of blood that came out with it. My heart was beating in my chest then, as I came to the logical conclusion as to what it was. I shook my head then, swallowing as I considered what to do with what had happened to me. I crawled over to the counter again, and got out a towel, and wrapped up the larger pieces, my eyes blinded by tears of fear and pain. Then, I moved them to the top of the counter, while I fetched a rag and the tub of bleach, meticulously cleaning the white tiles of my bathroom, until their original color remained. Once I finished, I took a quick shower to clean myself up, and threw the salvageable things into the laundry, while I gathered up the rest into a garbage bag.

Then, I went into my bedroom, picking up my phone and pressing it to my ear.

"Kiddo?"

"Pops," I said quietly, my voice a monotone.

"You okay?"

"Fine," I said, not wanting to get into the details.

"You sure?"

"Of course," I said softly. "Listen… I need your help. No questions asked," I said, staring at the garbage bag beside me.

"Sure, kid. Whatever you need… What do you need?"

"I need you to toss something for me…"

"Okay?"

"And for god sakes," I whispered, "don't look into the bag…"

"Sure, Iana. Whatever you say…"

"And don't tell anyone," I said, my voice breaking. "Please don't tell anyone."

"I won't tell anyone," he told me.

I nodded. "Good. And never mention it again," I said, my voice shaking slightly.

. . .

I swallowed then, staring at my mother as she sat down in the chair provided beside my bed, setting her purse in her lap. "What are you doing here?"

"Franny called… Baby, why didn't you call any of us?"

"I called Franny," I replied with a shrug.

"Yeah, but, baby," Mom said, her voice desperate, "why wouldn't you call me? Or Mickey? You know you can always come to us…"

"Do I?" I asked, my eyes locking onto hers. "Do I know that?"

She blinked. "Yeah…? Why wouldn't you think so?"

I sighed, picking at the frayed edge of my hospital blanket. "Son of a bitch… Don't fucking make me say it, Mom. Please."

"Sweetie, if you think you can't come to me, and then refuse to give me a reason why, then I can't help you."

"I think I made it abundantly clear that I don't want your help, Mother," I said, raising my eyes to hers again. "You fucking outed me as bipolar. How could you do that?!"

"Because he had a right to know…"

"He wasn't my fucking boyfriend, Mother."

"But you were sleeping with him…"

"And this is why I never made my sex life your business, Mother. Key words: My sex life. Not yours, mine. I mean, please. You were fucking Nicholas before you were even together! Don't be a fucking hypocrite, Mother, more so than you already have been!"

She narrowed her eyes at me. "Iana."

I sighed, flopping back onto my pillows. "What?"

"What do you think you've been hiding from me? I assure you, it's not anything."

I shook my head, still refusing to look at her. "Whatever."

"I know about Dr. Travers."

Immediately, I felt the hairs on my arms stand on end, but I still wouldn't allow myself to look over at my mother. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Then just listen," she said firmly. "A few months back, Nicholas and I were on that case together, a month before you got pregnant," she replied, and I could vaguely remember the extra work hours she'd been putting in, and not just at the diner. "We seized Dr. Travers's records, because there was evidence, when three of his minor male patients came forward, that there was inappropriate behavior."

I sighed. "I see."

"We seized all records that had minors involved, even female patients," she went on, "which is when I was shocked to discover that you were a patient of his."

I shrugged. "Great fucking job. Real detective work there…"

"It said that you went in there because you were experiencing a fever, heavier than normal bleeding, and abnormal cramping," she continued. "In Dr. Travers's notes, it stipulated that you had a placenta still inside you. Like I always tell my family, I'm no medical expert, but after having five children myself, I know what a placenta is. You can't have a placenta come into contact with your insides unless you're pregnant, or have been pregnant," she said, her voice quiet now as I slowly turned to look at her. "Were you pregnant once before this, Iana? Is this your second pregnancy?"

I sighed then, hunching my shoulders slightly then as I pushed myself upwards into a sitting position, running my hands along my stomach. "Yeah," I said quietly, and her eyes widened slightly at me being so upfront about it, which wasn't too difficult now, considering that she'd effectively backed me into a corner. "This is my second pregnancy."

"You were…"

"Fourteen," I said, my voice raw.

"Christ, Iana," she whispered. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"Because I would've had to have told you that I was raped," I replied, my voice shaking. "After the son of a bitch raped it, everything just happened so fast…"

"You could've told me, Iana…"

"Clearly, I can't tell you anything," I snapped back. "Considering your display when it came to whatever I had going on with Liam. You blabbed to him one of my most closely-kept secrets, one that you had no business sharing with him…"

My mother dragged her hands over her face. "So, we're back to this…"

"Yeah, we're fucking back to this," I said. "And we're going to keep going back to this, until you get it into your head that you were wrong."

She sighed. "Iana…"

"No," I shot back. "No. I don't want to hear your fucking sob story about how you were kidnapped and adopted without Frank's permission. I don't give a flying fuck. I'm done," I said then, feeling as if a massive weight had been pulled off my shoulders.

She shook her head. "You don't mean that."

"Actually, I fucking do," I replied. "And if you want to fire me for it, fine. Luckily I've been saving up my money. But I am sick and tired of pandering to you, and walking on tiptop whenever it comes to you being so fucking sensitive. I'm really sorry you had a rough go of it in your early life, Mom, I really am, but you're not alone. You're not. I had a fucking shitty go of it, too, so don't come to me and tell me yet again that your childhood was fucked, because so was mine. And I don't tell every person about it. I don't. I may not be perfect, but I sure as shit own up to it, and if I do something wrong, I fucking apologize. You don't. You play the sad backstory card, or hide behind your husband, and I've had enough. Unless you're prepared to right your wrongs, I don't want my daughter being raised around that. I'm sorry," I said then, knowing that my goal wasn't to hurt her, "but I have to look out for my little girl."

"Why are you doing this?" she whispered.

"Because you were supposed to be fucking looking out for me," I whispered. "You say that getting with Tommy was all to get Nicholas back… But what about the rest of us? Did we matter so little to you that, once Mason said he'd pull you out, that you ignored him, determined to get the love of your life back?"

Her eyes flashed then, and I knew that she was wondering who could've possibly given me that information, but decided not to press it. "You'll understand when you fall in love, Iana," she replied, her voice gentle, despite everything I'd said to her.

I shook my head. "Never gonna happen," I replied. "Any chance I had for a normal life died when I had to step into the motherhood role. I was five fucking years old," I whispered then, and she lowered her eyes. "Do you have any idea of how difficult it was for me? Sure, you had to raise me on your own for a couple of years there, but you had supportive family all around you, plus a generous income, and nobody breathing down your neck, threatening to take me away from you forever. I learned how to forge Uncle Ian's signature on so many things, just so that the boys wouldn't get taken. I had to change their diapers, make their meals, do their laundry, and hold them when the fell down during the day, or cried themselves to sleep at night. They weren't afraid of the dark; they were afraid of being fucking taken away, because our mother was too busy with another man to give a flying fuck."

"It wasn't like that, Iana. Really…"

I sighed. "I don't need to know what it's like," I replied. "Just…please. Go."

She sighed, getting to her feet. "If that's what you want," she said softly, putting her purse over her arm and walking towards the edge of the curtain. "Iana?"

"What?" I demanded, my voice shaking.

"Just so you know… Last night, it wasn't your fault," she said, deliberately attempting to make her voice gentle, before she walked around the curtain and out of sight.

. . .

"What did you have in mind?" I asked, my voice slightly hoarse then as I considered what Cara had in mind. "You implied that it would help…"

"It could help," she replied, "but the pain and emotions behind it could, unfortunately, set your treatment backward. I'll speak to Dr. Norton about it, to get an expert opinion, but she'll likely want to do whatever you want here."

"So… What were you thinking here?" I wanted to know, given that she needed Dr. Norton's approval on this one, and wondered why that was.

Cara sighed, leaning back slightly in her chair; it was the opposite of an intimidation tactic, and I knew then that she didn't want to potentially frighten me with what she was proposing. "I have some pull within the prison system," she said quietly.

At once, I straightened up in my seat at her words. "Some pull?" I asked, unknowing as to what she was suggesting. "How do you mean?"

"My half-brother, Axel, is a warden at Cook County Correctional," she explained. "He's my mother's older son, so not a lot of people know of the connection, due to the different last names we've got. In fact, not many people actually know about him," she said.

"Jesus. A warden?"

Cara nodded. "My dad was a cop, and my mom was a lawyer, just like me. We're a law enforcement family, what can I say?"

I felt myself automatically pulling my lower lip into my mouth. "So, what exactly are you suggesting here, Cara?"

"Confrontation," she replied.

I blinked. "Excuse me?"

"What I'm suggesting here is extremely unorthodox, Iana, believe me, and I don't encourage this with all of my cases, but something tells me that this one is, shall we say, a special circumstance we're up against here," she explained. "What I'm telling you is, I think we should speak to Dr. Norton about you potentially confronting Tommy."

I found myself gripping the edges of my seat then. "What?" I whispered.

"He's the catalyst here," Cara said gently. "He's the reason why you distrust male authority figures in the first place, with Principal Monroe coming in as a close second. When you were a very little girl, Tommy Matthews took something extremely precious to you, which was your childlike innocence, which all children should possess but, unfortunately, due to certain situations, many lose day after day, year after year."

I bit my lip then, feeling my leg beginning to shake as I considered facing Tommy then, for the first time in almost a decade. "I'm scared," I whispered.

"I would be with you the entire time."

I locked my eyes with hers. "And you think it'd be…beneficial?" I asked.

She nodded. "I do. Of course, like I said, we'd discuss it with Dr. Norton first, but she would likely ask you how you felt about the entire arrangement before we make an ultimate decision on the matter."

I sighed. "No."

Cara blinked. "What?"

I shook my head at her. "No."

"No to…? What?"

"No, we don't have to talk to Dr. Norton."

Cara looked apprehensive then. "Iana, if we were to do this without the opinion of a court-appointed therapist…"

"I don't give a rat's ass about Dr. Norton's opinion," I replied, straightening up in my chair then, my voice hard. "She's a nice lady, and a good doctor, but I'm saying that I don't give a fuck. Put it on the record that it's me saying this, and that I wasn't swayed or influenced by anyone. I want to go and see Tommy," I said, and Cara did her best not to look completely shocked at my words and my opinion. "It's time to confront a demon, before I let the waiting game potentially get the better of me," I said, forcing my voice not to shake.

. . .

Given the conversation that my mother and I had had at the hospital a few days previously, I was not about to attend the Patsy's Halloween party. I'd been crashing at Pops and Uncle Ian's place for the past several days, not because I was scared to be around Ezra, but because, despite what my mother said, I still blamed myself for what happened. As I sat there, in my borrowed bedroom on Halloween night, doing my best to keep my back straight against the pillows, I ran my hands over my stomach, trying to calm the churning within.

"Kiddo?"

I turned at the sound of Pops's voice, as well as the knocking on the door. "Come in," I said, and did my best to straighten up even further, plastering a smile on my face as he and Uncle Ian stepped into the room. "Hey," I said, and the pair of them mutually smiled at me, for even I knew that they were as excited about the baby as I was. "What's up?" I raised my eyebrows then at the box they were holding, which they placed on the foot of my bed. "Um… What's this?" I asked, as I pointed to it.

"Why don't you open it and find out?" Uncle Ian asked.

I gave them both an amused expression before I pulled the box closer to me, and slowly eased it open. I felt myself gasping then at the beautiful, vintage-looking, black cocktail dress that was in the box, along with a pair of black heels and a string of pearls. "What did you guys do?!" I cried out then gleefully, getting to my feet and picking it up, amazed that it would fit around me, and was relieved that I wouldn't have to dress as a beached whale.

"Well, we knew you wanted to go to Penny's party at Lip and Mandy's building," Pops said, and I turned to look at him. "But we also knew that picking a costume may not be an easy thing to do right about now…"

"We found a great website that caters to pregnant women," Uncle Ian explained. "It had all of these amazing costumes for reasonable prices, and, after careful consideration, we thought this one would look amazing on you."

"You're both too sweet," I said, setting the dress down before I walked towards them, and pulled them both into my arms. "I love you guys."

"We love you, too, kid," Pops said. "Now, get yourself ready so you can go to that party and drink a shit-ton of virgin cocktails!"

I saluted them both. "Can do!"

Once they'd left the room, I put on the dress, heels, and pearls, before doing my makeup and styling my hair in an appropriate manner. Underneath the dress was a black feather boa, which I thought just made the ensemble, and I wrapped around my arms and neck before I grabbed my car keys, cell, and purse and headed downstairs. Pops and Uncle Ian applauded my entrance, and I rolled my eyes at the humor of the situation, before I hugged them both and stepped out into the slightly chilly Halloween evening.

I'd told Penny the night before that I was going, but that I wasn't likely to dress up, but Penny told me that it didn't matter. She was just wanting to spend some time with me, she said, as these parties were all about investors and other people that would fawn over her product line, wanting a sneak peek or a modeling gig. Since I didn't fall into any of those categories, she said that she was excited to have me there. Plus, I was likely to be the person there closest in age to her and, despite the notion that we were from entirely different backgrounds, she always told me that there was never a dull moment with me.

I drove across town towards Uncle Lip and Mandy's apartment building, letting them know that I was there and would likely stop by after the party, which made them happy. I parked in my usual spot upon arrival, slipping out of the car and moved quickly, not wanting some drunken idiot to get their head smashed by thinking I was for sale. I stepped into the building and crossed over towards the elevator, waiting for the box to arrive and, once it did, walked right in and pressed the top floor button. I found the entire thing amusing, as the doors closed and the elevator took me upstairs, that I was actually attending an event in a suite.

I stepped out into the hallway once the elevator brought me to the proper floor, walking down the wide corridor and towards the immaculate-looking door that led to Penny's suite. I knocked on the door then, and I could hear the pumping beat of music from within. There were heels on the polished hardwood, and the door swung open, and Penny, dressed like an angel, looked slightly shocked at my appearance in the hallway. Granted, I'd told her that I likely wouldn't be coming in costume, and all the times we'd hung out, I hadn't worn makeup.

"Iana," she said, her voice a squeak.

"Hey, Penny," I said, grinning at her. "Everything good?"

"Y-yeah," she said.

I nodded. "Great. Can I come in?"

She nodded then, standing aside for me to enter, and I walked in, seeing the other various party guests dressed up, likely only wanting a favor or something from Penny by doing so. "Look, Iana, I'm glad you're here, but…"

"But what?" I asked, not bothering to move deeper into the suite, unknowing what she was being so hesitant with me. "You invited me…"

She nodded. "I know I did, but…you should know that…"

"Iana, we're running out of champagne in the kitchen," said a familiar voice, which snapped me to attention then, causing me to turn around, and for me to lock eyes with a certain individual I'd managed to avoid for months.

I swallowed. "I see what you were talking about now, Penny," I said, hating how strained my voice sounded then.

"Penny…what's going on here?"

"Nothing!" Penny hissed. "Had you kept your schedule the way it was, this wouldn't have happened, and you know it," she said, moving to stand by my side and putting a supportive arm around my shoulders. "Now, aren't you going to greet my friend and guest?"

He swallowed then, hating as much as I did being backed into a corner. "Of course," he replied, obviously attempting to keep the bitterness from his voice as he forced himself to turn his silver eyes onto me. "Iana."

"Liam," I replied, my voice as stiff as his had been, before I turned to Penny. "What's the hardest stuff I can drink while pregnant?" I asked.