Lip has been sat on the couch for three hours, staring at the clock on his phone as he cradled tiny Freddie against his chest: waiting and waiting and waiting.

Your heels are gone from beside the door, and his favourite jacket isn’t where it’s usually housed on the peg. Because you’re out. You haven’t been out for the longest time, and Lip doesn’t really know what to do with himself.

You never liked being around people, or crowds, especially not without Lip. He’s acted like a crutch, a constant for you to fall back on since you were sixteen, so the fact that you’re out there on your own is messing with his head. What if you don’t need him anymore?... He enjoyed the dependance.

He enjoyed ordering for you in public, he enjoyed always being the first to make conversation at gatherings. He enjoyed carrying all of your stuff because you were terrified of pick-pocketers, and he loved walking with his hand in your back pocket, and the smugness that grew in his chest whenever you buried your face away in his shoulder out of embarrassment.

He’s busied himself with dad duties while you were gone: laying on the floor with Freddie while he attempted to lift his fat head during tummy time (bless his little heart), bathing him, getting him ready for bed in his little footy pyjamas, giving him his last feed of the day before the tiny boy finally drifted off to sleep on his chest. He couldn’t will himself to sleep if he tried, because you were out there alone. Since when did Lip Gallagher get scared.

It seems that he was right to be scared when you came back in tears.

He was up in seconds, awkwardly maneuvering Freddie on his shoulder as he pulled you under one arm, pressing kiss after kiss after kiss on your temple. Oh god, he knew he shouldn’t have let you go.

Some women can be cruel. Especially new mothers.

And you’ve always been a sensitive soul.

“Hey, hey, c’mon… Who am I beating up, hm?... Y’want Freddie? Freddie’ll calm you down, hm?...”