Ian was pleased, he honestly was. He was happy for them, even if it did make him jealous that not only was he not going to be around for the birth, but it seemed like everyone else's life was falling into place except his. He just felt like that one puzzle piece that didn't quite fit.

Lip was pleased about the baby, of course he was, but Ian could understand why he was a little bit withdrawn about it, a little bit hesitant. After the whole incident with Karen, anyone would be. Lip just chose to voice his concerns in the wrong place at the wrong time.

They were in the Alibi Room, hiding from the heat and cradling a pint each before they had to head over to their house for the party that Fiona was throwing in honour of the incoming baby. "I mean, you get what I'm saying right, because I want to be more excited, but how do I know for sure that it'd mine," Lip said, scowling down at the bar top.

Ian didn't even have time to answer, because suddenly Mickey was there and wrenching Lip out of his seat. He slammed him into the bar, forcing Lip to arch in a way that was definitely not comfortable as Mickey got up in his face, teeth bared and eyes furious.

"You shut your fucking mouth about my sister," he'd already hit Lip once, obviously when he'd dragged him out of his seat. Ian had missed that, but he knew Mickey had by the trickle of blood coming from the corner of Lip's mouth. "The baby's fucking yours because for some reason Mandy's dumb enough to actually fall in love with one of you Gallaghers, so shut your fucking mouth and smile, or I'll rearrange your face."

And he was serious. Mickey wouldn't hesitate to hit Lip because if there was one thing that had always been guaranteed to get Mickey riled up, then it was people saying shit about Mandy. Lip held his hands up in defeat, obviously believing Mickey because if Mandy had taken the time to express her feelings to Mickey, she definitely meant them. But then, Ian could have told him well enough that the baby was definitely his. Mandy was crazy about Lip, more so than she'd ever been about anybody. Lip was just being an insecure asshole.

He was just rising out of his seat to pull Mickey back when fingers touched the back of Mickey's shirt. "Hey dickhead, cool it and buy me a pint already will you?"

His eyes widened at the sight of Kara standing there. She didn't look completely healthy, but there was a confidence that just seemed to radiate out of her. Mickey was pulling back instantly, tipping his head to the side and cracking his neck.

"You're not allowed to drink yet remember," he pointed out, backing away from Lip and scratching his stomach as he looked at Kara, "And don't you even fucking think about it." He was talking to Tegan that time where she was leaning up against the bar watching the whole thing with a smirk on her face.

Tegan reminded him a lot of Mickey if Ian was being completely honest, except Mickey still scared him more. A point that was proven by the fact that Tegan's only response was to flip Mickey off. It had been almost two months since Tegan was shot and Kara had woken up and just from looking at her you never could have guessed that she'd been through something like that. Ian had seen her around at their house with Carl and she was wearing just as little clothing as she had been before the shooting, the hot weather apparently determined to hold out for as long as possible.

The only evidence there was for the whole thing was the patch of marred skin on her shoulder.

He hadn't seen Kara since she'd woken up, because really he'd had zero reason to go back to the hospital. It wasn't like he could just pop his head in and say, "Hi I used to fuck the guy they all think is your husband, how do you take your coffee?" He was surprised she'd been in the hospital so long, but then he'd heard from Carl somehow – he had no idea how that conversation had started – that she'd had some setbacks with her lungs now that she was off the respirator. He was pretty sure that this was the first time that she'd been out in public since she'd been discharged from the hospital.

She kept jumping ever so slightly at loud sounds and stuck close to Mickey, her eyes flickering towards the door whenever someone walked in.

They didn't speak to each other for the rest of the time that they were at the bar, but Ian saw the three of them at their house the next day. Mickey stood across the room leaning against a wall, his eyes narrowing whenever Lip looked his way. The rest of the time though, Mickey didn't look away from Tegan or Kara. He had to pluck a cigarette out of Kara's fingers twice before she got the message and stopped trying to sneak a smoke.

It was a party that wasn't much of a party considering that Mandy couldn't drink and she'd roped Lip into not drinking so that she wouldn't be the only one, Tegan had already begged off upstairs with Carl much to Mickey's disgust and obvious annoyance and the whole thing was more than a little bit awkward.

"So are we ever going to actually have a proper conversation?" Ian asked several beers later when it seemed like everyone seemed to have paired off and having Mickey being just across the room from him was making him feel like a nervous wreck for no reason at all. It was ridiculous.

Mickey stared at him for a minute, like he was trying to work out whether or not he wanted to answer that, whether or not he even wanted to be there. Ian thought the chances were he didn't want to be, which was why he was surprised when Mickey actually spoke.

"What the fuck do we have to talk about?" he asked, his voice gruff and low and Ian had a bit of a hard time pretending that that voice did absolutely nothing for him. Because it was a lie, Mickey's voice did everything to him.

Feeling ballsy, he took the cigarette out of Mickey's hand and took a long drag before handing it back. He was actually surprised that Mickey had let him, but then Mickey look shattered. He said so.

"Yeah well, Kara kicks in her sleep," he muttered, scratching the back of his neck.

Ian frowned and the question must have been pretty obvious on his face because Mickey didn't even wait for him to say anything. "It's a two bedroomed apartment, Gallagher and Tegan's a fucking teenager, she needs her own room," he growled out through his teeth, but there wasn't any real venom behind it.

It seemed like Mickey was just too tired to really conjure up any real emotion.

"So you still working breaking kneecaps?" he asked as soon as he felt the need to fill the silence that stretched out between them; which he would admit was pretty quickly.

Mickey glanced at him through his lashes and looked away the moment Ian unconsciously licked his lips. "Yeah," he muttered eventually, "It pays the bills and we've got a shitload of them." He pulled a face which clearly said that he didn't like thinking about that.

"Hospital?" Ian asked.

"Yeah."

Ian was just thinking of another topic when Mickey spoke again, because for some reason he was apparently deciding to be more chatty than he ever had been before. Ian wondered if maybe it was because he thought that if he had to talk to Ian, he might as well actually talk. Normally though, things like that didn't make sense to Mickey.

"You going back to the army?"

Ian knew the surprise registered on his face when he looked back at Mickey. Their eyes met for just a second before Mickey decided the carpet was interesting. "Yeah," Ian replied and he didn't know why that sounded like a confession, because it wasn't supposed to be. It was just a fact. "I'm pissed I'm not going to be here for the birth you know, but I'm thinking it'll be my last tour."

Mickey's nod was barely perceptible. "The army not what you thought it was going to be then?" he asked, even though it didn't sound like much of a question. It was more like that had been what Mickey had been suspecting all along.

He just shrugged. He didn't have an answer to that. "Well is breaking legs what you really want to be doing for the rest of your life?" he asked, raising an eyebrow and not at all surprised when Mickey scowled at him.

"Fuck off," he muttered, "We both know it's not a question of what I want to do, it's about what's fucking available."

"You put yourself down too much," Ian commented before he could stop himself, looking away when he realised that Kara was watching them from across the room. Mickey hadn't noticed that yet.

The scowl on Mickey's face intensified, but when their eyes met for a second, Ian could have sworn that there was something akin to a happy emotion in Mickey's eyes. Or at least satisfaction. Something. It wasn't negative, that was all Ian knew for sure. It kind of threw him for a loop.

"What the fuck ever," Mickey muttered, taking a swig of beer and then crumpling the can. He wiped at the moisture on his bottom lip with a finger and Ian swallowed visibly. He couldn't help it. "Try not to fucking die over there."

And then he was walking away, not even realising that that was the second time that he had said those words. And Ian knew better than anyone that Mickey didn't care to repeat himself. If he ever did, it was because he meant it. He kept those words running through his brain like they were on a loop, even as he got on the bus to take him back to his army base. He kept repeating it to himself because he thought maybe that meant in some fucked up way, Mickey maybe did care.

Or at least he had. Maybe.