Trauma At Its Finest (Lip Gallagher X Male Reader)

Ch 45. Maksim And Phil

The last couple of days were rough. Everyone knew what had happened now, and the weight of it sat over the family like a fog. One of their nephews was gone, and the grief gnawed at each of them in its own way.

For Lip, it left a hollow that no one could fill. Y/N could see it in him — in the way he slept less, in the tired sag under his eyes, in the color draining from his face. He barely spoke unless it was about the baby.

Their new son finally had a name, Maksim — not something they'd sat down and chosen, just a name Lip started using one day. Y/N didn't ask why.

Lip never left Maksim's side. If he wasn't holding him, he was sleeping in the same room or stepping into the bathroom for a minute. Everyone knew it wasn't just protectiveness — it was fear, raw and constant, the fear of losing another son.

Worse still were the messages Y/N kept getting from the other mothers who'd been in the same situation. Almost all of them had their babies back now. Just three women were still waiting. Those who had their children decided to keep them. Lip saw those messages too, and each one made him feel smaller, watching other parents beam with joy while he had only loss to measure his days by.

Then came the holidays. Christmas first. The house tried its best to be warm — gift exchanges, smells from the kitchen, little pockets of laughter from the others. Lip didn't crack a smile once. His eyes stayed empty, focused on something no one else could see. Y/N, who was hurting too, at least managed to lift the corners of his mouth once or twice. Lip didn't.

That night, Lip placed Maksim in the bassinet beside their bed. Even lying down, his eyes stayed on the baby, searching for the faintest sign of trouble. Tomorrow was Maksim's first check-up — the day they'd learn the long-term effects of everything he'd been through.

Y/N slid in beside him, wrapping an arm around him gently as if not to break him. His eyes followed Lip's to the baby.

"He's going to be okay." Y/N murmured.

"He isn't eating enough." Lip said, voice low. "He's too light."

"I'm sure the doctors will help with that." Y/N said softly. "They wouldn't have sent him home if it was dangerous."

Lip didn't answer, just kept watching the rise and fall of Maksim's chest. Y/N watched Lip for a moment longer, worry pinching his brow, before pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.

"Goodnight, Lip. I love you."

Lip didn't reply. He hadn't for days, even when Y/N said it. His gaze stayed fixed on Maksim, as if sheer willpower could keep the baby breathing. Hours passed before exhaustion finally pulled him under.

-

The next day, Lip and Y/N sit in a bright, sterile examination room. Maksim is bundled in Lip's arms, swaddled so tightly he looks almost weightless. His tiny frame is noticeably smaller than most newborns, and the blonde hasn't let go of him once.

Y/N's posture is still, calm on the surface. Lip's knee bounces without him realizing it. Every squeak from the fluorescent light overhead feels too loud.

The door opens. A pediatric specialist steps in with a clipboard, offering a warm but measured smile before taking a seat across from them.

"Good afternoon, both of you. I know this week has been intense, but you're doing an excellent job taking care of Maksim. Let's talk about his current condition and what we can do to keep him on track."

"He's been struggling to eat." Lip cuts in. He doesn't mean to sound blunt, but small talk feels like a waste of time.

"That's not unusual for a baby who's been through what Maksim has." The doctor says gently. "Right now, he's about four and a half pounds. That's still below average for a full-term newborn, but we can work on getting that up. I recommend feeding every two hours—yes, even if he only takes a little each time. Since he's underweight and not feeding well, we may need to supplement with high-calorie formula."