I deliberately made myself feel numb on the remainder of the drive to the jail, and as I was hauled out from the back of the police cruiser, I kept my mouth shut as I was dragged through the double doors and into the foyer. I was brought up to the counter, where the cuffs were mercifully taken off, and I automatically flexed my fingers, sharp pain causing me to grit my teeth in an attempt to stop myself from crying out, and twisted my wrists round and round, so as to become re-adjusted to being untethered. I turned my head as the burly cop, the one who'd hauled me in here, was speaking to me, but did my best not to appear anything but compliant towards him.

"Valuables in there," he said harshly, nodding to the plastic bin provided.

I nipped at my bottom lip, unhooking my locket from around my neck, feeling as if a piece of myself was being removed as I put it into the bin. Next, I took my keys out from my pocket and set them beside the necklace, followed by my shoes and socks, as I was directed by Mr. Bossy to my left. I was then grabbed again and was made to walk through a metal detector; I held up my shirt when directed to do so, so as the cops in charge would see that the machine going off was only because of my jeans zipper.

"Over here," came the voice of that cop again, and he suddenly had me by the arm once more, and he hauled me to the other side of the counter. He took my hands, and I sucked in through my teeth as he manhandled them, so as to put them into the black ink beside the boxed paper beside them. Once all my fingers had been pressed onto it and were each coated with a layer of black ink, I was then made to stand in front of the height chart. "Look at the camera!" came his bark when I merely stook there. "Milkovich! Get your eyes on the camera!"

I blew some breath out of my mouth then, and slowly raised my eyes upward and stared at the camera lens, before I nearly stumbled backwards at the click and flash it made. From the corner of my eye, the cop motioned with his hand; the son of a bitch wanted a fucking profile shot. I gritted my teeth, but nevertheless, turned my body to the side, and stared at a bit of concrete wall on the opposite side of me, and did my best to remain still when the shutter clicked again.

"Come on," he said then, once the picture guy had what he needed, and I was hauled off to a separate room, on my own, surprisingly, and he shoved me inside, and yet he himself remained in the doorway. "Change into that jumpsuit," he ordered. "There'll be some standard underwear issued for you, and a pair of prison socks and sneakers. Puts your clothes in the bag provided; someone will come to collect them tomorrow," he said, moving to shut the door. "I'm gonna lock you in, so knock three times when you're through," he finishes then, his eyes raking over my body, which made my stomach clench as he slammed the door behind him.

I dragged my hands over my face; the sun had already begun to set behind me, so I knew there was no way in hell I'd be getting home to Hailey tonight. Shaking my head, I made quick work of undressing, not wanting to get onto the cops' bad side, and hastily got on that smelly jumpsuit and everything else I was made to wear. Once I got my own clothes into the separate bag, I took another breath before crossing over to the door, and knocked three times, just like Mr. Bossy had told me to.

"Come on," he said, swinging the door open. "Someone called while you were in there," he went on, keeping a hand on my arm as he pulled me along. "You've got your own cell for the night, so nobody'll bother you. You'll be discharged in the morning to your family; seems like you've got friends in high places." His voice seemed different somehow, less harsh; almost as if, now that I had people looking out for me, I was suddenly not considered a threat.

"Thanks for letting me know," I replied, no animosity in my tone.

The man nodded as we continued down the hallway; there were a group of single cells, much like the rooms that I'd gone to see Tommy in, except these didn't just have a table and chairs, but a cot bed as well. "You gonna be all right?" he asked me, unlocking the door, and moving aside then as I moved to step in.

I nodded. "I'll be fine."

He nodded again. "Okay. One of the guards'll be by with your dinner; you won't have to go to the mess hall for that. Wake up is six a.m., and lights out is at eleven. Will that be a problem?" he wants to know.

I shake my head. "No, it won't be a problem," I say quietly.

"It's also because you're underage," the guard says, his voice quiet. "And because of who your parents are... If anyone gives you any trouble, send them to me."

I nodded. "Got it."

"Tell 'em to deal with Sarge if they give you any bullshit," he goes on, his voice firm. "I was a sergeant in the army... It still scares 'em."

"Noted," I tell him.

He sighed. "I have two daughters," he says quietly, before he raises his eyes to mine. "I sure as hell wouldn't want them in here..."

"I have a daughter," I tell him, and he looks surprised. "She'll be one in January. I love her more than anything, so I get it."

He hesitates then, before getting a good look at my hands. "Looks like you busted those things pretty good," he says.

I sighed, lowering my eyes to my fingers while biting my lower lip. "Family matters are complicated things, Sarge," I said quietly.

"I'll see if I can get someone to send you an ice pack," he says, moving back into the hallway once again. "You sure you're okay?"

"Fine," I assured him, looking back up. "I've been through worse, believe me."

. . .

I was given the "all-clear" to get the hell outta dodge the following morning, after I managed to swallow some barely-edible oatmeal and had a shower, before putting on my street clothes, It was after that that I collected my belongings and headed out into the cool autumn air, with the sun barely up, and lowered my eyes to see Pops waiting for me. I sighed, knowing that this couldn't be good, and trudged towards him, my sneakers soft on the concrete.

"You okay?" he asked, arms crossed, as soon as I was in front of him.

I nodded. "Yeah, I'm okay," I told him.

Pops dragged a hand over his face then, the emotions threatening to take the better of him as he suddenly stepped forward and yanked me into his arms. "What the fuck were you thinking?!" he demanded, his voice harsh in my ear. "Do you have any idea how scared we were?!"

"I'm sorry..."

"No, I don't want you to tell me you're sorry," Pops said, pulling back and searching my face. "I mean, I do, but I want you to mean it. None of this 'I won't do it again' bullshit, although I hope to god that you won't..."

"I'm sorry," I replied, really meaning it. "I know that yesterday was completely fucked up and I'm really sorry, I promise..."

He nodded, visibly swallowing then before he took my face in his hands. "Did you do it?" he asked me then, and I sighed, lowering my eyes, but Pops shook me then, stopping the movement from happening, right in its tracks. "Did you beat the shit out of him?"

I squared my shoulders then. "The cops caught me at the scene," I replied. "Cuffed me, arrested me, locked me up... So, what do you think?"

"I think I want the truth, Iana," he replied, and I pulled myself out from his grip. "You're still underage, and don't technically have a record, due to your insanity defense."

I sighed. "I don't know what to tell you, Pops..."

"I want you to tell me the fucking truth, Iana!" he demands, and I lock my eyes to his. "I want you to tell me the truth, and I want it now!"

I scoff, rolling my eyes, hating it when tears developed inside them. "And what? What's gonna happen to me?!"

"If you didn't do it, I'll take you home, but you'd need to fess up to who did immediately," Pops told me, his voice firm. "If you do claim to do it, then that's a different story."

The thought of returning home overwhelmed my senses; more than anything, I wanted Hailey back in my arms, but I knew that it would come at a price. To go home would mean telling the truth, and Yev would be pulled out of our lives, probably for years to come. To lie would mean not seeing my daughter, but I needed to know what cards were in my hand for my bluff, so I decided to stick to my story.

"Let's say I did it," I told him, and Pops's eyes locked to mine then, looking shocked. "Let's say I did beat the shit out of Terry. What's gonna happen to me?"

He sighed, looking pained that I was taking this route, but likely knew the consequences if it wasn't going to be this way. "Nicholas made a deal on your behalf," he replied, looking devastated at what had to be done.

"A deal?" I ask. "What kind of deal?"

"You'll be subjected to a seventy-two hour hold in a psychiatric ward, and then if you're not considered harmful to yourself, or others, they'll let you come home after that. Then, a three-month period of house arrest with a curfew."

I blinked. "Really?"

He nodded. "Really."

I swallowed then, knowing that seventy-two hours on hold to make sure I really was mentally ill, and then three-months of house arrest beat a potential twenty-year lockup for Yev, so I did what I needed to do. "I did it," I said, taking my hands out from where my sweater had been confining them, and Pops saw my busted-looking knuckles for the first time. "I beat the shit out of your dad, and it happened because I'm off my meds," I told him.

"Christ, Iana!" he shouted. "You went off your meds again?!"

I nodded; this was the only truth here, and that one grain of it all could help me here, given that the psych ward would want to test me for any kind of medication, drugs or otherwise, in my system before admittance. "It's true," I replied. "I went on those new pills after Hailey was born, and I hated the way they made me feel, so I stopped taking them two months ago."

"All right," Pops said, looking shell-shocked as he put an arm around my shoulders. "Let's go get you admitted."

. . .

"Iana Milkovich, seventeen-years-old, diagnosed with bipolar one at the age of fifteen, remanded to University Chicago Psychiatry for a seventy-two hour hold because of an assault on her grandfather, Terry Milkovich, which resulted due to her failure to take her medication," said the intake doctor, lowering her clipboard and staring up at me. "I want to impress upon you how serious this situation is, Miss Milkovich. Given that you have a young child in the picture; I mean, what would happen if Hailey said or did something that pissed you off? Would she end up beaten to a bloody pulp, like that of your grandfather?"

My eyes snapped to hers then; I was gripping, hard, onto the arms of my chair, easily annoyed by what this lady was insinuating. "You do realize that my daughter and Terry Milkovich are two totally different people, right?" I asked, doing my best to curb my temper with her. "Hailey could never get me to act that way towards her, ever. Even if she had fucking killed someone, it wouldn't matter to me. She's my baby," I growled through my teeth, knowing full well that I would be threatened with sedation if I flew off the handle. "Terry Milkovich may be my paternal grandfather by blood, but my biological father made sure that he stayed far enough away from me growing up. The first time he ever saw me, he attacked me," I told her, and the woman looked shocked that I was revealing such a thing to her so quickly. "Grabbed me right there on the street; I was just coming home from work, and the son of a bitch mistook me for a sex worker, the old pervert."

"And what did you do then?" the woman asked, writing it down.

I couldn't care less what she wrote; I was so done. "Once he got a good enough look at my face, I think it was enough to freak him out. I look enough like my dad and my aunt that his jaw hit the floor," I said, leaning back in my seat and crossing my arms. "I slammed my forehead into his nose and hit him a couple of times before he let me go..."

"How did that affect you?"

I scoffed, rolling my eyes. "Dr. Newland, you know better than anyone," I said, biting on my lower lip and doing my best not to freak out. "My files tell you everything you need to know. I was systematically raped by my mother's fiancé when I was five, and harassed and raped by my middle school principal at thirteen... Not to mention the notion that my mother's twin brother, my uncle, has the same debilitating mental illness that I do. The fact that Terry Milkovich deserved what he got aside, I know I have some work to do, and I'm fully prepared to do whatever you think I should, because I need to get out of here in seventy-two hours, because my daughter needs me."

Dr. Newland sighed, lowering her pen. "Well, we're going to get you on a different bipolar medication, since you said that you didn't like the symptoms that the other one afflicted you with, for starters."

I sighed, nodding. "I can agree to that."

"And you'll participate in therapy here, individual and group, every day."

I laughed a little. "Wouldn't be a hospital if I didn't, right?"

Dr. Newland smiled a little at that. "I've matched you with Dr. Patricia Leland, one of our newest psychiatrists, for your one-on-one sessions."

"Sounds good," I replied.

"Breakfast at eight, then group therapy at ten," Dr. Newland explained. "Lunch at noon, visiting hours from one to three, then group therapy from four to six. Dinner at six, recreation from seven to nine, and you must be in your room by nine-thirty. Lights out at eleven, and then wake-up is seven a.m. Sound good?"

I nodded. "Yeah, sounds fine."

"Good," she said. "Your schedule will also be in your room; you've been given a single, as per your parents' request. It also has a map on the back of the paper, so you'll be able to find out where your therapy sessions are. Your room has an attached bathroom, so you won't need to leave the area at night if you need to go. Mini-fridge, complete with bottles of water. And then your pill checks will be after lunch, before visiting hours."

I nibbled at my bottom lip. "Okay," I said softly.

"Now is where you'll ask me any questions you might have about rules and such," Dr. Newland went on, scrawling down some more notes for my files. "If not, I'll take you directly to your room, and then you'll head over to group therapy."

I swallowed. "One question..."

"Shoot," Dr. Newland replied, raising her eyes to mine.

"The visiting hours," I said quietly, "can anyone visit?"

She smiled. "Wondering if your boyfriend can visit?" she asked. "Well, because we really don't mind who comes, just that they're respectful of the space and people in it."

I shook my head. "Not my boyfriend; my daughter," I told her. "I want to know if my daughter is allowed to come and see me."

"Oh," Dr. Newland said, looking uncomfortable that she had automatically assumed that I'd want to know if my boyfriend was allowed to come here. "Our policy is that anyone who wants to visit can, but if they are under eighteen, they need to be accompanied by someone who's over the age limit."

I sighed. "So, Hailey's allowed here?"

"Hailey, that's a beautiful name," Dr. Newland said.

"Short for Mikhaila," I explained. "Named for my father."

"How nice," she said softly. "And, yeah, of course. If you wanted Hailey to come here, she is of course allowed to be brought by a family member."

I shook my head. "No. No, I don't want Hailey to see me here," I said quietly. "I love my baby girl more than anything, but..."

"I understand," Dr. Newland said. "We'll discuss your visitor list right now, okay? Then I'll take you to your room." She hesitated for a moment, opening her pen again. "Who would you like to be allowed to see you?"

"My pops, Mickey Milkovich, he can come," I said quickly. "My uncle, Ian Gallagher, I'll want him to come if he can."

"Anyone else?" she asked.

I swallowed, becoming nervous. "Franny Gallagher, my cousin and best friend. If she even wants to see me, I'd like her to be on the list."

"Will there be anyone else?"

"My uncle, Lip Gallagher, and his wife, my aunt Mandy," I told her. "She's having a baby next week but if she's feeling up to it..."

"Of course," Dr. Newland replied, scrawling the remaining names. "Will there be anyone else that you'll want to come and see you?"

I shook my head at her. "No," I told her, not wanting to see Mom or Dad, and knowing that they needed to be on hand to look after Hailey, as well as Clayton, Fionn, Carla, and Charlie. "I'd rather not have my parents see me here, no matter how grateful I am for them securing me a place in here."

She nodded. "I can understand that, Iana. No pressure," she says, making a note in her clipboard before getting to her feet. "All right, then. Shall we go and see your room?"

. . .

I'd been told after lunch on my second day that I had visitors, so I made my way to the correct hallway and towards the visitors door, pushing them open. I stood there for a moment then, as I remained just over the threshold of the room, the bright, autumn sunlight streaming in the windows on the wall opposite me. My visitors, two of them, got immediately to their feet as I stepped inside and, almost as if I suddenly remembered where I was, stumbled towards them and threw my arms around them both.

"I'm so glad you're here," I said, my voice slightly muffled.

"Hey, wouldn't miss it," Pops said.

"We were on the list, so there's no way we'd pass up seeing you," Uncle Ian said as they pulled me back and looking me over, before I was slowly guided over towards the seats back against the wall. "You doing okay?"

I shrugged a little then, my hands automatically regulating themselves to the pockets of the god-awful yellow jumpsuit I was forced to wear. "You know, can't complain. They're making me take my meds, and I'm talking a lot more than I usually do, but I'm feeling things, so I guess that's a step in the right direction..."

"People behaving themselves?" Pops asked, his hands automatically going into fists. "I'd hate to hear about anyone hurting you."

I sighed. "They have two different sections of the hospital, Pops, it's fine," I told him. "The men and guys's place is on the other side of the building. They can't come over here, and we can't go over there. It's very safe."

"But, you do remember what to do if a situation gets out of hand, right?"

"Mick," Uncle Ian said, placing a hand on Pops's shoulder, squeezing it slightly. "An orderly has every right to slam you up against a wall if they even sense something's gonna happen. The last thing I'd want is a repeat of what happened when I was locked up in one of these places. The key thing, Iana, is to keep your cool."

I nodded. "And I've been doing just that," I assured them both, hesitating for a moment. "How's Aunt Mandy doing?"

"About ready to pop," Pops said proudly, grinning to himself, while Uncle Ian playfully rolled his eyes at the comment. "She doesn't hold it against you, you know. What happened with Terry a few days back. Everything's good with her."

I nodded again. "Good to know."

"She also says that, if you want to, and if she still hasn't delivered by the time you get out, that she would love for you to be there, in the room, with her and Lip when the baby's born," Uncle Ian reported with a smile.

"Please tell her for me that I will," I assured them. "And Hailey?" I wanted to know. "How's my baby girl doing?"

"Talking up a storm," Pops reports.

"Got her to say 'Mama' yesterday," Uncle Ian informed me.

I sighed, feeling the tears springing to my eyes upon the news. "And I fucking missed it because I'm here," I muttered, the resentment in my tone.

"Anything you want to tell us?" Pops asked.

Automatically, my eyes snapped back to his. "No," I told him, clearing my throat as I dashed the tears from my eyes. "Nothing. How's everyone else?"

. . .

I was given the "all-clear" that I was due for release after seventy-two hours, and was told to keep on my medication, as was the condition of them letting me go. I was given my street clothes back, the ones I'd been arrested in, which had considerately been washed between the days I was forced to wear the jumpsuit. As I stepped out into the sunshine, I let out a cry of shock when I saw Pops standing there, having borrowed my car to get here, holding Hailey in his arms.

I let out a shout of exultation as I ran forward, taking Hailey immediately and kissing her forehead, her sweet baby smell calming my senses immediately. "Mama missed you so much, sweet girl," I told her.

Hailey looked up at me then, and I was rewarded with a large smile. "Mama back," she managed to say without hesitation, and I kissed her forehead again.

The drive home with Pops was filled with small talk, and I kept turning around in my seat to make sure that Hailey was okay. My heart swelled at the notion of my daughter, who was amusing herself by looking out the window and clapping her hands. We came to a stop outside the house, which I knew would be empty, due to Dad being at the firm, Mom being at the diner, and the kids being at school. Pops handed me my cell phone back, and as I moved to get Hailey out from her car seat, I noticed that Axel's car was parked on the street as well. I turned and looked up at the house, knowing that he must've used my custom-built ladder to get in, and I turned to look at Pops, who seemed to put two and two together.

"You gonna be okay?"

I nodded, hitching Hailey's bag onto my shoulder. "Fine," I told him. "I'm gonna give her a bottle and put her down for her morning nap in a bit..."

Pops nodded. "I've got a few things to do at the house, but I'll stop by later before she goes to bed to say goodnight."

I smiled, stepping forward and accepting his hug, and smiled as he kissed Hailey's cheek. "Say bye-bye to Papa," I said quietly to her, and Pops grinned, waving to Hailey, who did the same movement, as he crossed the street. I sighed then, turning around and heading inside the house, managing somehow to unlock the door with Hailey in my arms, before I shut and locked it behind me. It almost didn't surprise me to see Axel sitting at the kitchen table, as I set Hailey's bag on the staircase and came trudging over. "Hey," I said, slipping Hailey into her highchair and crossing over to the fridge where, thankfully, there was still another couple of bottles waiting for me, although I didn't relish the thought of having to spend my first free day pumping to get out some more milk. "What are you doing here?"

"Well, I thought I was seeing my girlfriend," Axel said, obviously trying to keep his temper with me as I placed the bottle in the bottle warmer, "but, as I'm sure you know, relationships thrive on communication, and my girlfriend failed to communicate with me that she'd been arrested."

I sighed, plugging in my phone to the kitchen charger and setting it for five minutes, so that the bottle will be heated through properly. "Not in front of Hailey, please," I told him, my tone slightly more exasperated than I'd originally intended for it to be. "I understand you're upset with me, Axel, but Hailey doesn't need to hear this. She doesn't."

Axel sighed, impatiently tapping his fingers on the tabletop until my phone timer went off, whereupon I grabbed a dish towel, the bottle, and Hailey from her highchair, and took her into the living room. Placing the dish towel on my shoulder, I put Hailey into the crook of my arm and offered her the bottle, which she took immediately with gusto, and I stoked her perfect little cheek as she did so. It was silent then, but for the small sucking noises that Hailey made when she ate and, once she was finished, I put the bottle aside and kissed her cheek, before burping her effortlessly and holding her close.

"I'm going to put her upstairs for a nap," I told Axel, getting to my feet as Hailey's eyes seemed to immediately grow heavy. "I'll be right back, and then we can talk."

I did my best not to react to Axel rolling his eyes that I was putting off our argument to take care of my daughter as I turned around and headed for the stairs. I grabbed her bag on the way up, and took my time as I climbed, not wanting to unexpectedly lose my footing and drop her. When I finally made it to my bedroom, I opened the door and placed her bag on my bed, before I made my way over to her changing table. After I changed her and cleaned her up, I put her in a sleep shirt so that she'd be more comfortable, and put her in her crib, tucking her in with her favorite soft, pink blanket, and kissed her forehead, before making a grab for the visual baby monitor and slipping out of the room.

"Okay," I said, once I got downstairs and placed the monitor on the coffee table. I headed into the kitchen and sat across from Axel, placing my hands on the surface of the table. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Axel rolled his eyes. "Don't give me that shit, Iana. You were arrested. Now, talk. What the fuck happened the other day after I left?!"

"Yev met the family," I said, shrugging my shoulders, "like we planned all along. I don't really know what you want me to say here."

"Well, fine, Iana, if you want to play it that way," he said, obviously growing annoyed. "I want you to say what happened between the time I dropped you guys off and the cops hauling your ass to jail. I had to hear from your pops that you were carted off to the looney bin after you fucking spent the night in jail! What am I supposed to think here?!"

I dragged my hand over my face. "Well, Yev met the family. He met Pops, Uncle Ian, Mom, and Dad," I went on, knowing that I couldn't come fully clean to Axel, even though he was my boyfriend, because I felt a loyalty to my brother that I never knew was possible. "Yev wanted to know the story about his conception, and of course the family wouldn't tell him about it, given the complexities..."

"Christ," Axel whispered, having known the story from the first time around we'd decided to be a couple.

"Yeah," I muttered, leaning back in my seat. "We left the house and I decided that he should meet Terry..."

"Shit Iana, you didn't," he said, looking shocked. "Not again."

I nodded. "Oh, yeah, again," I told him.

"The fuck did you do?!" Axel demanded, standing up.

I shot to my feet. "We went there and, I don't know, I lost it, okay?!" I said, hating it whenever I got the sense that I was literally being backed in a corner.

"Iana, you know that you can't just act that way...!"

"It was a fucking impulse, for fuck's sake!" I shot back. "You knew that I was bipolar from the time Cara was my attorney, which made it possible for me to not go to prison, have Hailey, and screw you several times a week!" I told him, putting my hands on my hips. "You know as well as I do that you can't cope for a long time if I don't wrap my lips around your dick!"

Axel turned red then. "This isn't about that, Iana, and you know it."

"Then, what is it about, Axel?" I demanded, narrowing my eyes at him. "Something tells me you wouldn't even be into me if I wasn't just a little bit unhinged. You keep telling me that you love me, just the way I am, and yet you're flying off the handle when I don't fall in line. You can't have it both ways, you know. Either you want me to be myself, fucking crazy now and again when my meds don't work or I stop taking them, or buttoned-up and normal. You need to fucking make a choice, because I can't live my life tip-toeing around, waiting for you to make a choice about which version of me you like better."

"What makes you think I don't love you?" he wanted to know, crossing around the table and taking ahold of my arms, and I stiffened automatically. "Tell me what you're thinking right now, Iana, because you're not thinking clearly!"

I felt my lungs constricting then at his hands on me, but he was holding onto me so tightly that I couldn't get away, even if I struggled against him. "Let me go," I said to him, to the point where I was nearly thrashing in his arms. "You need to let me go!"

"Not until you tell me what you're thinking!"

"That's not the way this works!" I cried out, doing my best to pull out of his grip and failing to do so, miserably. "Axel, let me go!"

It was then that the front door burst open, and I felt my mouth drop open when Yev advanced across the threshold and shoved Axel away from me. I stumbled backwards, listening to the two of them yelling at each other, and quickly made a grab for the baby monitor, relieved that Hailey was sleeping through all this. I turned back to look at them then, relieved that to punches were being given, but couldn't shake the sensation of momentary fear when Axel had so unexpectedly grabbed me.

"You can't just grab her like that!" Yev shouted at Axel, who stared at him in anger. "Are you crazy or something?!"

"No, I'm not fucking crazy!" Axel yelled back. "But she sure as hell is!"

Yev narrowed his eyes then, taking an intimidating step towards Axel. "Don't you ever fucking call my sister crazy," he growled at him.

I breathed in then, my heart still refusing to stop beating so profusely. The only thing that seemed to break the spell was my cell phone ringing, which both Yev and Axel seemed to ignore. Taking a chance, I walked past them and into the kitchen, my eyebrows shooting up at Uncle Lip's number that went across the screen.

"Uncle Lip?" I asked, picking up the phone. "What's going on? Is everything okay?"

"Mandy's water broke," he said in a rush, and I could vaguely hear her screaming in the background, along with an engine, knowing that the pair of them were likely en route to the hospital. "I know it's almost a week early, but..."

"I'll be there," I told him, hanging up the phone, vaguely aware of Yev forcing Axel out of the house before turning back at me. "Aunt Mandy's in labor," I reported.

Yev nodded. "Okay. What do you want me to do?"

"Can you watch Hailey?" I asked him, and Yev looked shocked. "What?"

"Well, it's just that, you trust me..."

I smiled. "Of course I do, you're my brother," I told him, unplugging my phone. "There are enough bottles to last her throughout the day, and she should have one when she wakes up in two hours," I told him. "The boys will be home before three, and they know what needs to be done with her," I explain. "You can't just leave her in the crib, though; you need to keep her with you and read and have her occupied with her toys."

Yev nodded. "Relax, I've got it."

I smiled, hesitating for a moment before I crossed over to him and put my arms around him in an unexpected hug. "Thanks," I said.

"No problem," he replied.

I dashed out of the house then, spotting Pops and Uncle Ian coming at the run. "Get in the car now!" I called to them, and, after briefly informing Uncle Ian that I was all right since coming home from the hospital, we got into my car and drove to the hospital. We managed to find a parking space before bursting through the doors, and I told Uncle Ian to sent the boys a text that they would need to relieve Yev of babysitting duty when they came home.

"You left Yev in charge?" Pops asked as we dashed through the hospital doors.

"Yeah. Why?" I asked.

Uncle Ian shrugged. "No reason," he replied.

"Hi, we're looking for Mandy Gallagher," I said as we approached the desk.

"You family?" the receptionist asked.

"Yeah, I'm her niece, Iana Milkovich," I replied.

"Brother, I'm Mickey," Pops said quickly.

"And I'm her brother-in-law, Ian," Uncle Ian finished.

"Maternity ward on the fourth floor," the woman replied.

We dashed up the hallway towards the elevator, waiting anxiously for it to arrive and, when it did, we stepped into it. I felt my stomach flip-flopping as we drifted upwards, but once it got us to the fourth floor, the three of us burst out and went to find the check-in desk. Once we did, I breathlessly stepped forward, as I was on the "come into the room during labor" list.

"Mandy Gallagher," I said, breathless this time.

The woman smiled. "Name?"

"Iana Milkovich, her niece," I told her, showing her my I.D.

"Ah, you're on the list. Sharon," the receptionist said, turning to a nurse, "can you please take Miss Milkovich to room 409? Her aunt is in labor, and she's on the list."

"Yeah, no problem. It's on my way," she said brightly.

I turned to Pops and Uncle Ian as Sharon circled around to let me in through the door. "I'll make sure someone comes to get you before..."

"Get in there," Pops said, embracing me.

"Just be there for her," Uncle Ian said quietly.

I broke away from them, grinning as I turned to face Sharon, already waiting for me. I stepped through the door, responding to her small talk as we made our way towards the right door. She left me on the threshold and I slowly turned the door handle, and spotted Aunt Mandy in the bed, Uncle Lip right by her side, and felt proud that my uncle was being so supportive, actually remaining by his wife's side throughout the ordeal. "Hey, guys," I said, stepping in and shutting the door behind me. "I didn't miss anything, did I?"

"No," Aunt Mandy managed to get out. "But I think something's happening, and we can't get a doctor in here."

"What?" I demanded, turning to Uncle Lip.

"They're backed up or something," he replied with a shrug.

I bit my lip then, turning back to Aunt Mandy. "What do you mean 'something's happening'?" I asked her.

"I think the baby's coming out!" she said then, suddenly screaming and grabbing ahold of Uncle Lip's hand, who stiffened in pain.

I turned around and stepped back into the hallway, surprisingly finding no one, and went back to the receptionist we saw before. "My aunt says that something's happening..."

"Sorry, sweetie. Not enough doctors on call today," she said quietly.

I scoffed. "Can't you just page someone?"

"Doesn't always work that way," she explained.

I gritted my teeth, making my way back to Aunt Mandy's room, and, just seeing how in pain she was, I knew I needed to do something about it. "Oh, the hell with this," I muttered, pulling the base of her hospital gown upwards then, my eyes widening. "Holy shit..."

"What?!" Uncle Lip demanded. "What's wrong?!"

"She's crowning and he's coming fast!" I replied, looking up at him.

"Jesus..." Uncle Lip whispered.

"Oh, my god..." I whispered, looking up at Aunt Mandy, who was pleading with me. I bit my lip before I crossed over to the sink, washing my hands and snapping on a pair of gloves. I found a mask in the cupboard and used that to cover my face, before turning to Uncle Lip. "Give me your shirt," I told him.

Uncle Lip stared at me. "For what?!"

"So I can stare at your abs," I replied without hesitation, and Uncle Lip looked shocked. "So that I can fucking wrap the baby up in something so it doesn't freeze to death, jesus!" I shouted, and grabbed it when he handed it over. "Okay, Mandy," I said, sliding a free chair forward. "Push, I guess..."

"Make it more aggressive, she'll listen," Uncle Lip muttered.

I shrugged. "Okay... Push!" I shouted then, and Aunt Mandy bore down and pushed, and my eyes widened at how quickly my cousin was slipping through the birth canal and out into the world. Uncle Lip's shirt covered my gloved hands as the baby came into the world, and I found myself smiling then at his beautiful face looking up at me as I wrapped him up, bringing him towards his mother and father. "Here he is," I said gently, handing him to Aunt Mandy.

"Oh, my god," she whispered, tears in her eyes as she looked up at Uncle Lip.

"He's perfect," Uncle Lip assured her.

I crossed back over to the sink, throwing out the gloves and washing my hands before I hastily removed the surgical mask. "He looks perfect, I guess," I said, smiling at them. "I'd judge him at around seven pounds, but what the hell do I know?"

Aunt Mandy turned and grinned at me. "Do you want to know his name?"

"You already picked a name?" I asked.

Uncle Lip nodded. "Oh, yeah. Mandy wanted it to be...perfect," he said with a smile.

"Should I get Pops and Uncle Ian first?" I asked, straightening the base of Aunt Mandy's hospital gown, so that she wasn't exposed to the world.

"Sure," Aunt Mandy said, looking back down at her son.

I nodded, walking out of the room and glaring at the receptionist before I stepped into the waiting room, where Pops and Uncle Ian got to their feet. "We've got a baby," I said, grinning at them both. "Baby Boy Gallagher has landed!"

Pops's eyes popped out of his head. "We've barely been here a half hour!"

"That was really fast," Uncle Ian said.

I nodded. "Yeah, and in retrospect, I probably should've grabbed you, but Aunt Mandy wanted relief right then..."

"What do you mean?" Pops demanded. "She okay?"

"Fine," I assured him, motioning them to follow me back into the delivery room. "I mean, I guess she's fine, Uncle Ian would know better than I would..."

We walked into the room together, and Pops immediately went to Aunt Mandy's side, while Uncle Ian looked Uncle Lip up and down.

"Why are you shirtless?" he demanded.

"Is that Lip's shirt?" Pops asked, pointing to the baby.

"Yeah, about that," I said, rolling back on my heels, "I kinda, sorta, may have, delivered Aunt Mandy's baby because the hospital was short-staffed..."

"She did what?!" Pops demanded.

"It was fine," Aunt Mandy assured him, barely looking at him, as she only seemed to have eyes for her son.

"He's perfect," Uncle Lip said firmly.

"Sure you guys are okay?" Uncle Ian asked.

"We're fine," Aunt Mandy said gently.

"So... Baby Boy Gallagher... What's his name?" I asked.

Aunt Mandy grinned, before looking at Uncle Lip, who nodded at her. "This is Ronan Ian Gallagher," she said quietly.

"'Ronan' for my middle name," Uncle Lip said.

"And 'Ian' for you and Iana," Aunt Mandy told Uncle Ian, smiling at the both of us. "We figured that since Iana named Hailey after you, Mick, that you wouldn't mind..."

Pops shook his head, smiling down at his nephew. "No, of course I don't mind. I'm just glad that you're all okay."

"We are perfect," Aunt Mandy replied, smiling at all of us in turn before she turned baby to Baby Ronan, and Uncle Lip put his arm around her shoulders as Pops, Uncle Ian, and I slipped out of the room to talk about potentially suing the hospital for not having enough doctors on call.