Chapter 36: The Shooting Preparation - Part 2
Ben's Danger Intuition shifted three days after Frank's betrayal.
The constant warnings about Morrison, about investigation, about consequences—all of that faded to background noise. A new threat pushed forward with urgent insistence:
Mickey Milkovich.
The vision came in fragments: Mickey with a gun, face twisted with rage and hurt. Not random violence—targeted, purposeful. Looking for someone specific.
Looking for Ben.
Of course. I stopped the Kash & Grab robbery, got Mickey arrested. He made bail eventually, and now he blames me for ruining his life. For exposing his relationship with Ian. For complicating everything.
Ben's MacGyver Mind immediately began defensive preparations. Reinforced the garage door with additional bars. Created improvised weapons from tools—wrenches weighted for striking, sharp metal pieces that could serve as blades. Mapped escape routes through the back wall, through the ceiling, through anywhere that offered exit.
But his Danger Intuition pulsed warnings: violence would only escalate. If Ben hurt Mickey, Mickey's family would retaliate. The Milkoviches were South Side royalty in their own brutal way, and attacking one brought consequences from all.
He needed de-escalation, not defense.
The problem was approaching Mickey directly might trigger exactly what Ben was trying to prevent.
Ian appeared at the garage that afternoon, moving with the careful tension of someone carrying bad news.
"Mickey's making threats," Ian said without preamble. "About you. I heard from Mandy."
"Yeah. I figured."
"You figured? How do you—" Ian stopped himself. "Right. Your thing. Knowing stuff before it happens."
"My thing."
"Can you tell me what he's planning?"
Ben's Danger Intuition showed fragments but not details. "He's angry. Blames me for getting him arrested. Probably blames me for other things too—exposing his sexuality, complicating his life. And he's coming here with backup to do something about it."
Ian's face paled. "When?"
"Soon. Tomorrow, maybe the day after."
"Let me talk to him. Please." Ian's desperation was obvious. "Mickey's not evil. He's just hurt and scared and lashing out because that's how he deals with everything. I can talk him down."
Ben's Danger Intuition pulsed complicated warnings. Ian's involvement could prevent violence—Mickey wouldn't hurt someone Ian cared about. But it would also force Ian into an impossible position, choosing between Mickey and Ben, between his secret relationship and his friend.
"Ian—"
"I've been seeing him. Secretly. Since before the robbery." Ian's confession came fast, like ripping off a bandage. "It's complicated and confusing and probably stupid, but it's real. And I know Mickey. He's all bark until someone pushes too hard, then he's all bite. But if I'm there, if I talk to him first, he might listen."
"Or he might hurt you for being there."
"He won't. He'd never..." Ian's certainty wavered. "I can do this. Let me try."
Ben weighed options. His powers showed violence if he faced Mickey alone. Showed possible de-escalation if Ian mediated. But also showed Ian getting hurt emotionally, if not physically, from being forced to choose sides.
But Ian's volunteering. Making his own choice. Who am I to stop him from trying to prevent disaster?
"Okay," Ben said. "You can try. But if things go wrong, you leave. Immediately. Don't try to play hero."
"That's rich coming from Lucky Ben."
"I'm serious. Your safety matters more than mine."
Ian looked at him with complicated expression. "Why do you care so much? About me, about my family. You barely know us."
Because I watched nine seasons of your life. Because I know your struggles, your pain, your future. Because you're real to me in ways you can never understand.
"Because you matter," Ben said simply. "All of you matter. And I'm tired of watching people I care about get hurt."
Ian nodded slowly. "I'll talk to Mickey. Set up a meeting. Neutral ground. Just... be ready. In case I can't de-escalate."
After Ian left, Ben continued preparations. But his Danger Intuition showed the defensive measures were inadequate. Whatever was coming required more than improvised weapons and reinforced doors.
Fiona appeared at sunset, took one look at the garage, and went pale.
"What the hell is all this?" She gestured at the barriers, the weapons, the obvious preparation for violence.
"Mickey Milkovich is coming for me. Revenge for getting him arrested."
"So you're turning your garage into a fortress? Creating weapons?" Fiona's voice rose. "Call the police! Rally the neighborhood! Don't just sit here waiting to get shot!"
"Police will escalate. Neighborhood involvement will start a war. I need to de-escalate, not fight."
"You need to not die!" Fiona grabbed his shoulders, forcing him to look at her. "You keep solving everyone else's problems and creating bigger ones. You saved Ian from the shooting, which got Mickey arrested, which created this. You helped Monica, which did nothing. You partnered with Frank, who betrayed you. Every time you try to fix things, they get worse!"
The accusation hit like a physical blow because it was true. Every intervention had rippled into new complications. His foreknowledge let him prevent immediate disasters while creating long-term catastrophes.
"What do you want me to do?" Ben asked. "Run? Let Mickey come here and burn the garage? Fight back and start a war?"
"I want you to stop playing hero! Stop thinking you have to save everyone!" Fiona's voice cracked. "I want you to care about your own survival as much as you care about everyone else's."
"I do care. That's why I'm trying to de-escalate instead of—"
"Bullshit. You're preparing to defend yourself, which means you're preparing to fight. Which means someone's going to get hurt." Fiona's eyes were bright with unshed tears. "Promise me if things go wrong tomorrow, you'll run. Not fight, not try to fix it—just run."
Ben's Danger Intuition showed him futures where running meant abandoning people who needed him. Where survival meant cowardice.
"I can't—"
"Yes you can. You just choose not to because you think you're responsible for fixing everything." Fiona's hands tightened on his shoulders. "But you're not. You're one person with..." she gestured vaguely, "...whatever skills you have. You can't save everyone. And trying to will get you killed."
"Fiona—"
"Promise me. Please." Her voice broke completely. "I've already lost too many people. I can't lose you too."
Ben pulled her close, feeling her shake against him. "I promise if things go catastrophically wrong, I'll consider running."
"That's not—"
"It's the best I can offer. Because if Ian's in danger, or if Mickey's going to hurt innocent people, I can't just leave. That's not who I am."
Fiona was quiet for a long moment. Finally: "I hate that about you. That you're brave and stupid in equal measure."
"I know."
She pulled back, wiped her eyes roughly. "Fine. Do your hero thing. But I'm staying. Tomorrow, when Mickey comes, I'm here."
"That's a terrible idea—"
"So is facing an armed gang member alone. At least if I'm here, you'll have someone who can call for actual help when your stupid plan fails."
They argued, but Fiona was immovable. She'd be there tomorrow, and Ben couldn't stop her without using Silver Tongue to manipulate her away. Which he refused to do.
That night, Ben sat in his fortified garage watching the street through gaps in barriers. His Danger Intuition pulsed steady warnings about tomorrow's confrontation. His powers were still unstable from stress—illusions flickering randomly, MacGyver Mind showing obsessive details about weapons and defense.
Tomorrow, Mickey would arrive. Ian would try to mediate. And Ben's choices would determine whether this ended in conversation or bloodshed.
I changed the timeline by stopping the original shooting. Saved Ian but created Mickey's vendetta. Now I'm trapped in consequences of my interference, facing violence that wouldn't exist if I'd let the original disaster play out.
Maybe Fiona's right. Maybe trying to fix everything just makes things worse. Maybe my foreknowledge is a curse that lets me see disasters but guarantees I create new ones by preventing them.
But I saved Ian's life. That has to count for something.
Even if it means facing Mickey's revenge.
Even if it means proving Fiona right about my heroic stupidity.
Ben didn't sleep. Just watched the pre-dawn darkness, waiting for the confrontation his powers had shown him was inevitable, and wondering if this time, Lucky Ben's luck would finally run out.
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