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“Where is he?”
“Ian, can you just sit down for a second? Please?” Ian frowned, his eyebrows knitting together and he looked into his brother’s eyes, the white surroundings making his head anything but clear. He had always hated hospitals, everything was just too pale, too clean. Too… sad.
“No, why the fuck do I need to sit down? Where is he? Where’s Mickey?” Ian’s brain somehow added an echo effect to the last two words, his voice ringing inside of his head over and over again. ‘Where’s Mickey? Where’s Mickey? Mickey, Mickey Mickey’
“Ian, relax! Sit down” Fiona scolded as Carl reached up and put a hand on his shoulder, urging him down into the hideous, blue, plastic chair.
“Just tell me!” Ian barked, his voice echoing again, making his entire body flinch at the creepy effect. “Where is he?”
“Ian! He…” Debbie started before dipping her head, sighing, gaze focusing on her shoes.
“What?” Ian yelled, his entire being in complete high gear at this point.
“You need to calm down” Lip spoke, his hand now on Ian’s shoulder, eyes focused on his temple.
“I’m calm, just fucking tell me. I need to see him. I need to tell him I’m sorry. Where’s Mickey?”
“Ian, he…” Fiona swallowed, taking a small step closer to her little brother. “He didn’t… He didn’t make it”
“Mickey!” Ian woke himself up with the loudest scream he could ever remember forcing out of his throat. His t shirt, skin and sheets were all soaked with tears and sweat, his heart thrumming as if he had just been running from a serial killer or something. His fists were wet, slippery with the salty liquids, clenching around the white fabric as he kept crying, taking short, ineffective breaths.
Before he knew it, two hands were on his body, shaking him.
“Ian, what’s wrong?” His older sister’s voice spilled into his ears, trying to keep semi quiet as it was just barely five in the morning and the house along with most of the entire neighborhood was still asleep. “Ian” She kept shaking his body, but Ian didn’t react, he just kept himself in a somewhat outstretched fetal position, tears spilling down his cheeks, fists clenching the sheets still, mumbled noises spilling out of his mouth that sounded somewhat like ‘Mickey. Mickey. I need Mickey’
After about three minutes of continuous shaking, Fiona gave up, standing up straight, sighing as she saw her brother completely falling apart. Last night after the breakup he had seemed just fine, but a part of her had thought that maybe he was facing himself to act that way. Now she knew.
If she was honest, she had never really cared for Mickey all that much. Sure, she let him life in the house - not that Ian had given her much of a choice. She talked to him, she was polite. But she had never really regard him as the best boyfriend Ian could find and had always thought that maybe he could meet someone else later in life.
However, the past two weeks or so, her opinion had started to change ever so slightly. Mickey had cared for Ian in a way that she had never quite seen anybody care for anybody.
So of course, Mickey Milkovich would never quite be Fiona’s favorite person in the world but as she watched her brother lay entangled in his sheets, shaking and sobbing, crying out for his ex boyfriend, she knew that there was only one possible thing for her to do.
“Why the fuck are we doing this again? Why can’t we just pull him up and give him some tea or something? Calm him down ourselves?” Lip complained to his older sister as she used her flat palm to bang on the door of the Milkovich house, the cold night air surrounding them both, seeping in under their thin clothes.
“Because he wasn’t crying out for tea” Fiona pointed out, too tired to be nice to her brother right now. She also knew that if they calmed him down themselves it would only be a matter of time before they were there again, being awoken by Ian’s cries.
A minute after Fiona had let her hand drop to her side, the door remained closed, so she rolled her eyes and banked on the solid wood again, desperate to reunite Mickey with Ian so that she could be reunited with her warm bed.
“Alright, alright. Keep your fucking pants on” Mickey’s tired, annoyed voice was muffled at first, and then he swung the door open, frowning when he saw who was out on the porch. “The fuck you want?” His eyes traveled over Fiona to Lip and then back again as he waited for an answer.
Lip turned to his sister, both of them not quite sure how to ask this of Mickey. The truth was that despite how little they both cared for the guy, he had done more than enough for their brother and from what they had heard, Ian hadn’t quite been mr nice guy when he had dumped Mickey. He didn’t owe him anything.
Alas, Fiona swallowed roughly and turned to Mickey.
“Ian needs you”
Mickey’s throat was thick as he made his way up the stairs of the Gallagher house. He was extremely thankful that Lip and Fiona had decided to stay downstairs for now, he had no fucking idea what state he would find his ex boyfriend in, and if he really was crying out for him as they had said, he needed to do this on his own.
If he was honest, he didn’t really know why he was doing this. It would have been easy as fuck to just slam the door in their faces and grumble that he didn’t have time for this shit. After how terrible Ian had dumped his ass only hours ago, no one would have been able to blame him for it.
But as Mickey had sadly learned the past few years, when you love someone, that doesn’t just go away. There’s not a button that clicks off just because they hurt you, that’s just not how it works.
Mickey forced some extra air into his lungs before he finally pushed the door open, eyes immediately focusing on the vibrating lump under the covers. Ian’s body was turned away from the door, small sobs filling the room.
“Ian?” Mickey just barely recognized his own voice as the word fell out from in between his lips. “Ian” He said again, this time the name sounding less like a question as he took a step closer to the bed, gently easing himself to sit down on the edge, his soft hand landing on Ian’s shoulder.
Sob after sob was still shaking Ian’s body, and Mickey thought that maybe he could feel his heart physically shattering at the sound.
“Mickey”
Mickey wasn’t sure if Ian was aware that he was sitting right there or if he was so gone that that was just the only word he could come up with, the only thing he wanted. It didn’t matter, either way Mickey could feel himself breaking even further.
“Ian” He spoke, forcing his voice to be a little bit louder as he shook Ian, doing his best to snap him out of whatever state he seemed to be in. He moved his hand a few more times, Ian’s body with it. Finally, Ian seemed to snap somehow, his sobs suddenly quieting down as he flipped himself onto his back, blinking up at Mickey, cried out, green eyes clouded with confusion and heartbreak.
“M - Mick?” His voice was so cracky and sad that Mickey had to keep himself from breaking down into sobs of his own. His hand was still on Ian’s shoulder, his fingers now moving in soft, subconscious circles on the sweaty skin, hopefully calming the redhead down a little bit.
“I’m here” Mickey just whispered, a strand of hair moving slowly with his head as he nodded in reassurance. Ian’s entire face was flushed red, small, choked sobs still escaping his throat every now and then. His head tilted slightly to the side as his head left Ian’s shoulder to rake through the sweaty mess that had become his hair.
Ian’s eyes fluttered closed as Mickey ran his hand through the dark red strands over and over, heart easing a little bit at the fact that it was very clearly calming him down. Both men were still pretty out of it, Mickey because he had been awoken at five am and Ian because of his nightmare, but one thing was clear. They wanted each other safe.
Ian eased himself to the side a little bit, eyes fluttering open to connect with Mickey’s. Mickey blinked down at him for a second before obeying his silent plea and laying down right next to him, wrapping his love up in his arms.
Another quiet sob escaped Ian’s lips as he buried his face deep in the crook of Mickey’s neck, letting the smell calm him down. Mickey let his eyes fall closed, one of his hands still playing with Ian’s hair, the other one rubbing up and down his arm, holding him as tightly to him as possible.
Ian all but clung to Mickey like a fucking octopus, desperate for the reassurance that he was truly here with him. Small tears still escaped his eyes, hands clutching the fabric of Mickey’s shirt.
“I’m - I’m sorry” Ian choked through his tears.
“Shh…” Mickey shushed into Ian’s hair as if he were a toddler waking up from a nightmare - which at the moment he kind of was, and that was completely fine. “It’s okay, baby” He hummed into the wet, red strands, making sure to use the petname because he knew that it made Ian feel as if they were even closer. Made him feel safe.
“Please” Ian’s voice was muffled by Mickey’s skin, the word cracked. “I love you. I’m so - so sorry. Mickey, I need, I need. I need - “
“Shhh… Sh, sh, sh” Mickey just kept shushing him, not giving a fuck what they looked or sounded like. His fingers were still in Ian’s hair, rubbing smooth, comforting circles on his scalp. “It’s okay. Ian, I’m here. Always”
“I’m fucking messed up. But please don’t leave me” Ian choked through suddenly heavier sobs. Mickey’s eyes were closed, a tear of his own trailing down his cheek as he tugged Ian even closer.
“Never”