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They came two days later, the whole fucking cavalry. Fiona, Lip, Debbie, Carl, and they even had the littlest one. Mickey had known that they were coming; it was their brother who was lying in that bed.
“Hi Mickey. Mandy,” Debbie said with a smile as she held Liam’s hand. “Is he awake? Can I go see him?”
Mickey shrugged. “He was sleeping a little bit ago, but he might be awake now.”
“Thanks!” Debbie led Liam behind her and hesitantly walked into Mickey’s room.
Mickey watched her go. Carl and Debbie had been by a few times since the other day when Mickey had his panic attack, at least that’s what Mandy said it was.
“Hey Mickey,” Carl greeted and stood beside him. He didn’t know why, but somehow that seemed to calm Mickey.
Mickey lit a cigarette, trying to ignore the other people in his kitchen.
“How is he?” Fiona asked hesitantly.
“If you fucking bothered to show up you’d know,” Mickey shot back at her.
“Mick,” Mandy said softly, coming to grab his arm. “He’s better.”
“Yeah?” Lip asked. “Why is he still in a fucking bed? Why haven’t you taken him in?”
“He’s not getting locked up,” Mickey said sternly. He would not allow Ian to be hidden away.
“It might be the better option,” Lip said.
Mickey glared at him. “The fuck you getting at?”
“It’s no fucking secret that this house is fucking poison! Everything that comes out of this house is fucked. You really think I want to let my little brother rot away here?” Lip asked.
Mickey swallowed and tried not to let Lip know that the words had hit their fucking mark. “You think I ain’t taking care of him?”
“You’ve sure done a bang up job so far with taking care of him!” Lip took two steps forward to poke Mickey’s chest. “You’ve fucked him over how many times? How many times has he gotten beat because of you? Hell, by you even?”
“Watch yourself,” Mickey warned.
“You know he left because of you? That he pissed away his entire future because of you?” Lip questioned.
Mickey felt like his lungs were collapsing.
“Lip, that’s enough,” Fiona warned.
“No, Fi. It isn’t. This fucker thinks that just because he happened to be at the right place at the right time, he somehow knows better for Ian than us? His family?” Lip shook his head.
“Yeah. The same fucking family that didn’t even notice something was wrong?” Mickey snapped.
“Hey I fucking knew something was wrong. I’d grown up with the kid,” Lip fired right back.
“So you just chose to do nothing about it?” Mickey questioned.
“I was a little bit busy taking care of everything,” Lip said.
“Well I guess Ian just slipped through the cracks for you, yeah?” Mickey couldn’t bring his cigarette up to his mouth because his hand was shaking. He stubbed it out instead.
“Mickey, we’re not saying you haven’t been a big help,” Fiona started, cutting off whatever Lip was about to say. “But he needs more than just this.”
“You think I don’t know?” Mickey asked. “You think I don’t know what exactly he could do to himself?”
“Mick, calm down,” Mandy whispered from his side.
“We’ve done this before and know how to handle it,” Fiona tried again. “It’s not like you can’t stay with him.”
“Fiona?!” Lip argued. She silenced him with a look.
“He’ll be better off at home, with us.” Fiona looked at him and Mickey couldn’t breathe and walked away.
They were right. He wasn’t good to Ian, didn’t even know how to care for him most of the time. But he was fucking trying. He’d gone to the fucking library to search this shit and print out stuff. He knew what he was facing.
He just couldn’t face the idea of them taking Ian away, of shipping him off. He’d take Ian to the clinic as soon as he was back up on his feet again. But it just wasn’t enough for the fucking Gallaghers.
Mickey threw himself into the bathroom because he couldn’t listen to this anymore. If they were going to take Ian away from him, he’d rather just not be present. He just couldn’t fight anymore.
There was a soft knock on the door. “Mickey?”
Fucking Debbie, the one that reminded him so much of Ian. Mickey couldn’t respond, couldn’t find his voice.
The door opened and Debbie took a small step inside. “I just wanted to see if you were all right.”
“No I’m not fucking all right,” Mickey shot back. He wiped at his eyes as Debbie leaned against the door. He was grateful that she didn’t try to fucking hug or comfort him.
“I told them Ian didn’t want to leave,” she said softly.
“They buy it?” Mickey asked.
“Yeah. Because Ian said so.”
Mickey’s eyes snapped to hers. “He talked to you?”
Debbie nodded. “A little. Occasionally.”
“Fuck,” Mickey breathed. He was happy, ecstatic that Ian was talking. It was such a forward step. But it sort of fucking sucked that he didn’t say more than two words to Mickey yet apparently he was chatting Debbie’s ear off.
“What’d he say?” Mickey asked.
“Well, normally it’s just me talking and he listens. Ian’s always listened. But this time, he told me to tell Fiona and Lip that he wants to stay here, with you.” Debbie looked at him.
“He really say that?” Mickey asked. “Or are you just talking out your ass to get your brother and sister to step off mine?”
Debbie shrugged. “Both. He did really say that, but even if he didn’t I know he’d want to be here.”
Mickey looked at her, his eyebrows raised. “How could you know that?”
“Because I saw him with you when you were living with us,” Debbie said quietly. “He was happy. Like, Ian’s normally always happy. But it was different.”
“He was manic,” Mickey said bitterly.
“Yeah. But manic doesn’t exactly mean happy,” Debbie said. “It was how he looked at you. Did you ever see it?”
“See what?” Mickey asked.
“The look.”
Mickey shook his head.
“It’s the look you get when you’re surrounded by the person you love being around. And Ian liked being around you. You made him really happy when you stayed with us,” Debbie finished.
Mickey looked down and wished for a cigarette. “He deserves to be happy.”
“He is,” Debbie said. “Not exactly right now, but he is with you. I can see it.”
Mickey wiped at his eyes. “He left ‘cause of me.”
“You’re also the reason he’s back,” Debbie said simply.
Mickey looked at her like he couldn’t believe what she was saying. And he couldn’t. She didn’t even look angry or upset or like she blamed him.
Debbie looked down and spoke quietly. “I don’t know what happened with you guys last year. I know something did because Ian was really upset. But he had to deal with things himself I guess. But you were the one to go and get him. You were the one to convince him to come back.”
Debbie reached out to touch his arm. “I know that you’re good to him. And that’s good enough for me.”
Mickey shook his head. “Not for your asshole brother.”
“I think Lip’s more upset with himself than you but you’re an easier target,” Debbie said.
Mickey nodded and shrugged her arm in the pretense of rubbing at his head.
She hesitated by the door. “You know, he can hear you, right?”
Mickey looked at her.
“Ian. He listens to you when you talk?”
Mickey nodded. “Yeah. I know sometimes he’s awake when I talk to him. I just wish he’d talk back sometimes. Like he does with you.”
Debbie’s eyes started watering. “He said it’s because he doesn’t have to try with you.”
Mickey felt his heart freeze because that didn’t sound good. It sounded like Ian didn’t’ think there was a point in trying to talk with him, talk to him. “What the fuck does that mean?”
“He said that it was ‘cause you were the one person who just allows him to feel the way he’s feeling without trying to pressure him,” Debbie said. “And he said it’s really hard because he wants to tell you that it’s going to be okay, but he is scared that it’s not. So he’d rather not say anything.”
Mickey nodded, but it didn’t exactly make sense in his mind.
“Is it okay if I come back tomorrow? I’m going to bring Liam for his nap because it helps Liam sleep if he’s with someone and it might help Ian too,” Debbie said.
She opened the door. “He said that he feels like he’s in a tank, watching all of you watching him. But he can’t hide or get away.”
“Yeah. Thanks Debbie.”
She only smiled before walking out.
Mickey made his way into his bedroom and found Ian staring at the ceiling. He thought that maybe it was a good sign that he wasn’t so curled in on himself anymore. “Hey, Gallagher. Nice to see you’re finally awake.”
Ian’s eyes shifted to his, but there was still hardly any life there. They used to bright, too bright recently, but these were dulled. It hurt but they were still Ian’s eyes and they were still open and Mickey didn’t want to waste this opportunity.
“You hungry? I can make you something,” Mickey offered timidly while standing near the door.
“No,” Ian whispered hoarsely.
Mickey nodded, expecting that answer. “Okay. You need anything?”
Ian looked at him again. “You.”
Mickey nodded and crawled into the bed by Ian. He laid next to him and rested his hand on Ian’s stomach. He didn’t know what Ian wanted from him but the fact that Ian talked to him, told him that he wanted him, well he’d just figure it out.
Ian rolled into him, slightly over him. He pressed his face into Mickey’s neck and gripped his shirt. It wasn’t tight, but it was enough for Mickey to know what he needed, so he wrapped his arms around Ian, tightly and kept him close.
And he started talking to him in quiet tones. What happened, trying to keep it light and as blameless as possible because the asshole was still Ian’s brother. He told him about Kevin and how he looked worse than Ian since he wasn’t getting much sleep with the babies around.
Mickey even told him about the stuff that happened with Debbie in the bathroom. He repeated everything she had told him and Mickey felt his eyes burn. Because he sort of understood. Mickey would talk to Ian until his throat went dry, but he never expected Ian to respond. He never tried to prod at him until he did. He just simply knew that Ian would talk to him when he was ready.
“I think I understand now. It’s like me telling you when I’m uncomfortable. Or like the night after I came out. It’s just, knowing that you were there was what helped me. And I think that’s what Debbie was trying to say.”
Mickey felt Ian’s lips rest very briefly on his collarbone and he thought that maybe they didn’t need words at all. After all, they’d always spoken better with actions anyway.
