Mickey takes a blow to the head and has to have surgery. But when he wakes up, how much can he remember? Ian/Mickey fanfic
Bookmarked by Jensen326
25 Aug 2016
In which, after years of being separated by more than just prison walls, Ian and Mickey try to find their way back to each other.
Bookmarked by Jensen326
21 Aug 2016
A lot’s changed in the two years since Ian and Mandy ran off. Terry’s dead, Svetlana’s moved out, the Kash and Grab has started stocking blue Gatorade – oh, and Mickey’s been raising his brother’s baby ever since Tony went to jail.
But when he realises he might be stuck with the kid for good, Mickey decides to move out of Chicago and actually give her a chance in life. And it’s the couple of familiar faces he finds when he gets to Philly that really set change in motion.
It's been seven years since Ian left the South Side. He'd hoped that joining the army would make things better, that living out his dream would make him forget about the angry, closeted boy he'd left behind. Except, it didn't. And ever since then, Ian's been wondering, living it up with people he doesn't know, and who don't give a shit about him.
The whole marriage thing hadn't worked out for Mickey. Surprise, surprise. It wasn't just the whole thing of having to sleep next to a hooker he barely knew every night; it was missing the boy who'd walked away from him. He'd turned to booze in the hopes that it'd make things better. And for a while it did. He noticed that he was going to sleep alone, and waking up the same way. No crying from his kid. No one screaming obscenities at him in Russian. It was only when Mickey realised that he hadn't seen in his sister in months that it dawned on him that he needed to get his shit straight.
And, for the most part, he has. He's going to AA, and things are getting better. He's got a real job, and doesn't get chased by the cops anymore.
Everything's... well, not great, but okay. Until Ian comes home.
The kid with the red hair stood next to his sister like they knew each other, like they were friends, but Mickey (and that was his name, his mind reminded him, like it was rewarding itself for doing a trick, the name the redhead had said, Mickey, he was Mickey), didn’t know him.
Of course, Mickey couldn’t trust him.
“But I thought…Mickey’s dead,” the kid whispered to Mandy, speaking softly like he didn’t expect Mickey to be able to hear him, or understand, like he was stupid.
“He wasn’t dead,” Mandy said clearly, like she was speaking to Mickey, too. “He was just…lost.”