Archive of Our Own

The last thing Mickey wanted to do was drink alone and so he called his favourite cousin. 

Sandy was finally back in town after leaving once she got out of juvie for the last time. Iggy had told Mickey that Sandy was trying to go straight, but the younger Milkovich brother knew that the only straight thing about his cousin was her hair. 

Regardless, once he was out of prison, she was his first call. Turns out that when the woman who presses charges on you for attempted murder goes insane and is deemed a pathological liar, the justice system becomes much more lenient. Mickey still remembered the moment the warden told him that he was getting out. He thought it had been some kind of sick joke from Terry or one of the other delinquent Milkoviches. Yet, everything was soon in order and Mickey was released with a few strokes of a pen. 

That was a week ago and after crashing on Sandy’s couch and wallowing in his own sorrow over losing the man he loved, he finally ventured out into the world to interact with people. Well, only if you consider the lowlifes at the Alibi Room, people. 

Mickey sat across from Sandy as she drank her second beer, very happy to be out with him rather than cooped up watching reruns of some horrible sitcom. Sandy was his favourite Milkovich next to Mandy, but Mickey hadn’t seen his sister in some time and he wasn’t even sure where she was. He got a text or a voicemail every couple of months just to let him know she was still alive, but that was it. He missed Mandy, but he knew she needed to get out of the Southside and he was happy for her. 

Mickey glanced around the room, the afternoon sun filtering through the windows as it illuminated the day-drinkers. Mickey was itching to do something other than sitting at a dive bar and trying to dodge questions that he knew Kev and V both had. However, he was happy to be with Sandy who grinned at him from across the table. 

“What?” Mickey asked, taking a sip from his beer. “You keep staring.”

“I’m just happy you called,” Sandy said with a shrug. Mickey watched her for a second before snorting. 

“Who else would I call?” 

“I don’t know. Colin?” Sandy paused for a second before looking at him over the rim of her glass. “Ian?” 

“Don’t,” Mickey warned, not willing to talk about Ian, especially not to someone who didn’t even know him. Mickey had been hurt when Ian broke up with him on the stoop of the Gallagher house. Mickey had done everything for Ian. He had come out for him, tried to take care of him when he was at his lowest with his bipolar, and even protected him when the handsy old men would try things when Ian was drugged out of his mind on whatever anyone was willing to give him. 

“Have you seen him yet?” Sandy asked. 

“Nope,” Mickey said with a dismissive look as he sipped on his beer again. 

“Mickey…” Sandy tried again. 

“Why should I, huh? Bitch never visited me, did he?” Mickey said. It still hurt that as soon as Svetlana stopped asking him to do jobs for the Russian mob, Ian had essentially blocked him out of his life. Ian hadn't even taken calls from Mickey while he was locked up. He knew that Ian had left him, but he never expected the redhead to completely lock him out of his life, not when Mickey needed him the most. 

“I thought you loved him,” Sandy said, folding her arms in front of her on the table. 

“Didn’t mean much to him, did it?” Mickey said bitterly. 

“He was sick, Mickey,” Sandy said, trying to rationalize. 

“You don’t think I don’t know that?” he asked. “I was the one that was there for him. I took care of him and he just threw me away while his bitch of a sister…” Mickey trailed off, not wanting to lose his temper. He had been trying to work on that for a while and now was not the time to come undone. Mickey needed to keep calm for his own sake and Sandy's. 

“Have you told anyone you’re back?” Sandy asked. “You know, besides Kev and V?” 

“No,” Mickey said as he finished off the glass of beer before him. 

“So, we’re here because…” Sandy said, gesturing around the bar that was a Southside staple. 

“It’s early,” Mickey said. “Gallaghers don’t get day drunk. Well, Frank does, but fuck Frank.” 

“Maybe you should tell someone,” Sandy said, trying to be comforting and supportive. This was one of the many reasons why Sandy and Mandy got along so well. They were always getting into other people’s business and especially Mickey’s. If he was being honest with himself, and he always was, he figured that they were the same person at times.

It was terrifying. 

Still, she had a point. Some of the time. 

“Who would I tell, hmm?” Mickey asked, leaning forward on the table in front of him. Sandy’s eyes flickered from him to the door over Mickey’s shoulder, trying to predict the reaction that she knew was about to happen. However, she didn’t back down. Mickey had been avoiding it all for too long. 

“Start with him,” Sandy said, gesturing over Mickey’s shoulder. Confused, Mickey turned around in the booth to see Ian. The third eldest Gallagher sibling had entered the bar with his older brother Lip and Lip’s boss, Brad. Lip and Brad were more focused on the game on the TV above the bar than Ian was. Ian was staring right at Mickey with a surprised expression. 

Their eyes were locked together and Mickey felt as if he couldn’t breathe. As soon as Ian took a step forward, Mickey turned back around and shut his eyes tightly. “No, no, no,” Mickey said under his breath, trying to calm his heart rate. 

“Mickey, stay calm,” Sandy tried, reaching for her cousin’s hand. Mickey pulled away as if he had been burned. Shaking out his hand, he got to his feet. 

“Please don’t,” Mickey breathed out as Sandy watched him clamor out of the booth. From his pocket, Mickey slammed some bills onto the table. 

“Mickey…” Sandy said, her tone almost desperate. Mickey ignored her pleas, pressed a kiss to the top of her head, and then headed through the back of the bar, ignoring the ginger-haired Gallagher that waited behind him. Just as he shrugged into the back room, he ran into Veronica. V stared after him in confusion, watching as her friend disappeared up the stairs that led to the old apartment above the bar. 

V then turned to Sandy with a question on her lips. Sandy simply nodded towards Ian who was in the same spot as he had been when Mickey had noticed him. V sighed, understanding immediately. She didn’t know every detail about how the relationship had ended, but she knew enough. Most importantly, she knew how much Mickey loved Ian and how much Ian had hurt the man who had done everything to make sure he was okay. 

Veronica turned her attention back to the bar, going to restock the Jameson and whatnot. Sandy added her own bills to the pile that Mickey had left before grabbing her bag and hoisting it over her shoulder.  Sliding out of the booth, she approached the front door, trying to avoid the Gallagher brothers when Kevin appeared, stepping into the bar with a large black duffle in his arms. Sandy stopped as he went up to her, stopping just shy of Ian. 

“This is all I could get before I heard Terry’s asshole cronies coming back up the street,” Kev said, gesturing to the bag. “Iggy had to hurry me out before anything got too ugly.” 

“Thanks, man,” Sandy said, relaxing a bit more knowing that Mickey would have some things of his own for a while before he found something more stable. 

“I’ll bring this upstairs for him,” Kev said as he moved past Sandy and headed for the back staircase that led to the apartment. Sandy watched after him for a moment before heading back to the front door. However, Ian moved first. He stepped in front of Sandy, set on intercepting her escape. 

“Sandy, right?” Ian asked, recognizing her from the many photos Mandy had shown him years before. 

“Yeah,” Sandy said simply. 

“I’m–”

“I know,” she said, cutting him off. It wasn’t hostile or anything, but Sandy didn’t think she should be talking to him right now. Mickey should have been the one to build back the bridge between the Milkovich and Gallagher family, not her. 

“I didn’t know he was out,” Ian said, his eyes on the door that Mickey had escaped through. 

“Yeah, well, that’s what happens when the charges are dropped,” Sandy said. However, she elaborated after a flash of confusion overtook Ian’s face. “Your half-sister had some sort of meltdown in lock up,” Sandy said. “I’m not exactly sure what happened, but it was enough for her to be deemed mentally unstable. The judge figured if she was lying about most things, then she was lying about Mickey trying to kill her,” Sandy said with a shrug. “I picked him up about a week ago.” 

“Shit,” Ian said, not surprised that Sammi was unstable, but that the judge had actually approved Mickey’s release. 

“Yeah,” she said, just as amused and surprised. 

“So, he’s staying here?” Ian asked. 

“He can’t go home,” Sandy said with a sigh. “Terry has been on a warpath since Mickey came out. He never got over it and I guess he figured Mickey being in prison was punishment enough. He didn’t like when I came out either so I’m not surprised. Kev and V are letting him stay upstairs until he finds a better place.” Sandy hiked her bag higher up on her shoulder as she shifted on her feet. “Look, I gotta go, but try to talk to him, will ya?” 

“It didn’t look like he wanted to talk to me,” Ian said with a frown. 

“He’s hurt, Ian,” she said, “but he’s still in love with you. Mickey thought he’d be in there for almost a decade and regardless of who his family is, that isn’t easy. He doesn’t know what to do right now. Please, just give him something to hold onto.”

Ian frowned at that, trying to wrap his head around the fact that Mickey was feeling lost. It wasn’t something he was used to witnessing. Mickey was a rock, his rock and he never thought that something like a quick stint in prison would get to him. Then again, as Sandy said, he had thought he would be locked up for a good chunk of his life and Ian knew how Mickey felt about being isolated. 

Mickey needed to be free in every sense of the word and Ian would always try to make that happen for the man who had always loved him unconditionally. However, that meant working through their differences and of course, Ian making up for everything he had said when he was off his medication. 

“I’ll try,” he promised Sandy. Satisfied with the answer, Sandy moved past him and shoved out into the warm Southside air, leaving the Alibi behind her. 

Lip, who was sipping on a Coke at Ian’s side, moved closer to his younger brother. “Are you going to talk to him?” Lip asked. 

Ian sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’m going to try,” Ian decided, letting his eyes drift up towards where Mickey was staying, needing to see him. 

IAN

Ian waited until the next day before going to speak to Mickey.

He had been up all night trying to figure out what he was going to say. There was a part of him that was angry that Mickey hadn’t called him the second he got out, but he also knew that he had broken up with him and that he didn’t have the right to ask about him anymore. Yet, Ian still loved Mickey with everything he had. He just hoped that Mickey’s feelings hadn’t changed in the short time that he had been locked up.

Even after the few relationships he had been in since Mickey got arrested, none of them would ever compare to Mickey. It didn’t matter who Ian was with or where he was, Mickey was always going to be it. Which is why Ian found himself outside the small apartment above the Alibi just as morning turned to noon. The sound of the old pipes in the cracked walls was only making the rising anxiety in Ian’s chest worse. His hands clenched and flexed at his sides as he forced himself to raise his fist and knock twice on the wooden door. 

It was quiet on the other side and Ian was worried that he may have missed him after all. Ian knocked again and then finally heard the sound of footsteps inside the apartment. “Dammit, Kev!” Mickey yelled as he approached the door. “I told you I wasn’t going to bartend for your shitty customers. For fuck’s sa–” Mickey’s sentence cut off as he tore open the door and realized it wasn’t Kev standing in the hallway at all. “Ian,” he said as he stared at the taller man in front of him. 

Ian was looking back and he had to take a minute to take Mickey in. He was just as beautiful as the last time Ian had seen him, but he looked stronger. Clearly, Mickey had been taking advantage of the gym in the prison yard. His arms were more defined underneath the long sleeve t-shirt he wore and Ian could even tell that his back and shoulders had more muscle on them than before. Ian couldn’t help but look at Mickey’s chest, knowing the mangled tattoo of his name was just below the thin fabric. 

“Hey, Mick,” Ian said, finally finding his voice. He offered Mickey a small smile, but the latter just stared back, breaking out his shock and slipping into a mood that told Ian that something was very wrong. 

“The fuck do you want?” Mickey asked. Ian stammered for a second. He knew that Mickey was upset, but they usually always started off as pissed at each other before the reunion turned into a flurry of removing clothes and hands gripping at hair. However, he was realizing that wasn’t how this one was going to go at all. 

“You’re out,” Ian observed and Mickey just raised one of his eyebrows at him. 

“No shit,” Mickey bit back. 

“I just, uh, I wanted to say…” Ian tried, still not sure where he was going with any of it. He had been prepared to speak to Mickey, but he had figured Milkovich was going to be a bit more willing to hear him out. The Mickey before him looked as if he’d rather be throwing his head against a wall than standing in that doorway. 

“What?” Mickey asked. 

“I don’t know how to put this…” Ian said, the anxious feeling returning to his hands. 

“Spit it out, Gallagher,” Mickey said, “I got shit to do. Prison took up a lot of my time.” 

“Right,” Ian said. “Well, uh, maybe…”

“Yes?” Mickey urged, shifting on his feet. Ian was looking at him and then he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t say any of the things he had wanted to because Mickey had never looked at him like this. Ian was used to the glares, the smiles, the annoyed little glances whenever Ian would make some dumb joke that Mickey pretended to not find funny. However, now, it was as if Mickey was looking at him, but he had no idea who he was. Ian switched gears quickly. 

“Fiona’s gone,” Ian blurted out causing Mickey to narrow his eyes.

“What?” 

“Yeah, guess she finally got out of the Southside,” Ian went on. “Looks like she’s one of the lucky few,” Ian said with an attempt at a laugh, but Mickey was not amused. In fact, he seemed even angrier. 

“Seriously?” Mickey said with a roll of his eyes. “Damn Gallagher, well I am so glad your life is so fucking interesting,” he said before he slammed the door in Ian’s face. Ian stood there for a second, stunned before he took a few steps back and pushed his hands into his hair. 

“Fuck.”

LIP

The next time a Gallagher brother knocked on Mickey’s door, it was not the one that Mickey had been expecting. 

“Oh, what the fuck do you want?” Mickey said as he beheld Lip Gallagher at his threshold. Lip was standing there, an unlit cigarette behind his ear which only made Mickey want to punch him even more. He never liked Lip and he had liked him even less after Lip had constantly expressed his dislike of Ian and Mickey’s relationship. 

“Ian’s been trying to call you,” Lip said with a pointed look. Mickey knew that and he had been purposely ignoring every call and text for a reason. 

“And?” Mickey asked. 

“You’re really going to be a dick about this?” Lip challenged. 

“About what, Philip?” Mickey asked, using his full name just to annoy him further. “About how I got locked up after trying to stop your crazy bitch of sister with the help of your other crazy bitch of a sister? Who, by the way, never got picked up for helping me shove Sammi in that box. You’re welcome for that considering I could have rolled on her at any moment but I fucking didn’t.”

“You want me to thank you for not ratting out Debbie?” Lip asked, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets. 

“Nah, I don’t want shit from you,” Mickey said. “Your brother dumped me before I got my ass shackled so he and I are nothing and you and I don’t owe each other shit.”

“I never liked you,” Lip said, already hating that he had agreed to go and speak to Mickey after Ian had begged him for two days. The only reason he was even standing in that hallway was because of Ian, but even Lip had his limits when it came to Mickey Milkovich.

“Wow, thanks,” Mickey deadpanned. 

“But my brother loves you,” Lip went on. “And you make him happy so I need you to call him because whether or not you see it, you’re probably the only person for him and I think I've known that for a while."

“Right,” Mickey scoffed, “so you never said that Ian could always find someone better?” Mickey challenged. 

“He told you about that?” Lip asked, surprised, remembering back to that conversation he had with his brother. 

“He did,” said Mickey. 

“I didn’t get it back then,” Lip said.

“You clearly don’t get it now.”

“He cares about you for some fucking reason, Mickey,” Lip said, trying again for the man in front of him to see some reason. 

“Then maybe he should fucking figure it out,” Mickey shot back. “Now, don’t you have some think tank to go smoke some fancy weed in or some shit? Get the fuck out of here.” Mickey slammed the door in Lip’s face just as he had with Ian.

“Dammit,” Lip muttered as he pulled the cigarette from behind his ear and lit it. Placing it between his teeth, he pulled out his phone and sent a quick text to Ian letting him know he had hit and missed with Mickey. He didn’t wait for a reply as he headed back downstairs and out into the cool air of Chicago in search of a meeting for the afternoon. 

DEBBIE

Debbie found Mickey a day later playing pool in the Alibi. 

He was just finishing up hustling some drunk hipster when Debbie approached him with Franny at her side. Mickey looked up as the two walked up to him. “Jesus,” he said with a look at Franny, “what are you feedin’ that kid?” he asked. 

“Kids grow, Mickey. That’s how it works,” Debbie said with a roll of her eyes. 

“Whatever,” Mickey said, turning back to the game. Debbie remained where she was, giving him a pointed look as she kept hold of her daughter. “Can I help you?” Mickey asked, turning back towards her, already tired of the Gallagher bullshit. He already had to stop Frank from breaking into the apartment in the early hours of the morning. He didn’t need Fiona Jr. bothering him right now. 

“Why won’t you take Ian’s calls?” she asked. 

“Jesus Christ,” Mickey swore, running a hand over his face. 

“He needs to talk to you,” Debbie said. 

“I’m sure he’ll live,” Mickey said, grabbing his beer from the bar behind him and taking a deep drink. 

“I don’t know about that,” she said. “He’s pretty upset.” That made Mickey pause. He set his beer down. 

“He taking his meds?” he asked her. 

“Do you care?” Debbie challenged which was the wrong thing to do. Mickey glared at her. 

“Don’t pull that shit with me,” he warned her. “Answer the fucking question.”

“Yes, he’s on his meds, but he’s still upset you’re ignoring him,” she said. 

“Well, he ignored me so now he knows what it feels like to go AWOL,” Mickey said. 

“Call him,” Debbie urged. 

“No.” 

“Mickey.” 

“Debbie.” Mickey crossed his arms, staring her down. Franny was silent as she stood next to her mother, confused as to why they were talking to the man in front of her. Debbie glared at him for another moment before scoffing.

“I don’t know what he sees in you,” she shot at him before tugging her daughter away. Mickey watched them leave and Debbie’s words remained in the air around him. 

“I don’t know either…” Mickey said quietly to himself before returning his attention to the game and his own thoughts. 

CARL 

Mickey was out in the alley behind the Alibi when Carl Gallagher showed up dressed in a police cadet uniform. 

“You’re a fucking cop now?” Mickey asked as he looked up, taking the cigarette he was smoking from his mouth. 

“Almost,” Carl said, stopping in front of Mickey. The last time Mickey had even thought about Carl, the kid was going to some fancy military school or something. If he really thought about it, Mickey never really knew what Carl was up to half the time. There was a time that Mickey thought the kid was going to end up in the joint with him rather than trying to get a badge and service glock. 

“Weren’t you supposed to grow up to be a serial killer or some shit?” Mickey asked. 

“Things change,” Carl said with a shrug. Mickey nodded at that, returning his attention to his smoke. “You talk to Ian?” 

“Nope,” Mickey said. 

“Are you going to?” Carl asked. 

“Nope,” Mickey repeated. Carl nodded, weighing his options before settling on a new tactic. 

“If I handcuffed you and dragged you to the house, would you do it then?” Carl asked nonchalantly. 

“You try to put those fucking bracelets on me and I’ll break every bone in your hand,” Mickey said without missing a beat. Carl didn’t retort, he just smiled. Mickey never liked when the Gallaghers smiled, it always meant they were up to something or drunk or both. “What?”

“Nothing,” Carl said with a shrug. “I just missed that Milkovich snark.”

“Whatever,” Mickey said dismissively. Suddenly, Carl’s phone chimed, drawing his attention. Seeing who it was, Carl pocketed it again before turning back to Mickey. 

“I gotta go,” he said and Mickey just nodded. “Hey, stop being an asshole and call my brother before he runs out of love ballads to annoy us with.” Carl then left Mickey standing there, more confused than ever. 

“Love ballads,” Mickey repeated. “What the fuck?”

KEV AND V

The next ambush came when Mickey was sitting at the bar in the Alibi looking over the books for the Southside establishment. 

V set a drink in front of him as she wiped off the bar. “Thanks again, Mickey,” V said. “Since Lana left, we’ve needed someone who’s good with numbers.” 

“Not a problem,” Mickey said. “Least I can do considering I’m staying here rent-free, right?” Mickey continued to tap away at the calculator, but soon realized he was being stared at. Glancing up, he saw that Kev and V were both looking at him with innocent expressions on their faces. “What?” Mickey asked, already regretting doing so. 

“Ian called us,” V said with a grimace as she set down the rag in her hands. 

“Of course he did,” Mickey sighed. “Alright, lay it on me. At this point, I’m waiting for fucking Frank or Kermit to show up at my door at the ginger’s request.” 

“What about me?” Kermit said, turning away from Tommy. 

“Fuck you, Kermit,” Mickey said as he flipped him off. Kermit just frowned and turned back to his friend. Mickey looked back at the Balls and waited. 

“I’m not gonna tell you what to do,” Veronica began. 

“Good,” said Mickey, picking up his pen again. 

“But,” she went on, “he has been going through a lot.”

“Right, like the two boyfriends and the fancy EMT job?” Mickey scoffed. “Yeah real tough.” V frowned. 

“You know that he puts on a façade. Always has,” V reminded him. 

“Yeah man,” Kev interjected. “Ian may be smiling with those pearly whites of his, but his heart is actually blue beneath that ugly uniform he wears.”

“That was beautiful,” Tommy added as he eavesdropped. Kev nodded to him in thanks. 

“Thank you,” he said with gratitude. 

“Kevin,” V said, her tone full of warning. Kev then ducked away, leaving his wife alone with his former business partner. V leaned in then, resting her forearms on the bar. “Maybe just hear him out,” she tried. 

“I tried that,” Mickey admitted, grateful to have someone to talk to that wasn’t a Gallagher. “He doesn’t seem to know what the fuck he wants.”

“Do you?” she asked. 

“I don’t know,” Mickey said softly. Veronica gave him a soft smile as she laid her hand on his arm, giving it a firm squeeze. 

“Maybe you should figure that out first.” 

LIAM

Mickey was tired and all he wanted was a hot shower and then maybe some free beer from downstairs.

However, like always, he never got what he wanted. Opening the door to the apartment, he nearly jumped out of his skin at the sight of the youngest Gallagher sibling sitting on the couch in the small living room. 

“Jesus,” Mickey swore, trying to catch his breath. “How the fuck you get in here?” Mickey asked as he shut the door behind him and took off his coat. 

“Veronica let me in,” Liam said patiently. 

“Why?” Mickey asked though he could guess why Liam was there. After the rest of his siblings had shown up, it wasn’t a long shot to figure out he would be next. 

“I think we should talk,” Liam said, gesturing for Mickey to sit in the chair across from the couch. Mickey, amused, decided to humor the kid and took the seat Liam was offering even though it was Mickey’s house the kid was invading. 

“I can’t remember us ever doing that but go on,” Mickey said as he settled in the frayed cushions. Liam was quiet for a moment before he finally nodded and folded his hands in front of him like a grown man in a kid’s body. Mickey still had no idea how he was related to Frank. 

“I remember when Ian was going through the worst of his bipolar,” Liam began. “You looked out for me.” Mickey was surprised to know that Liam actually remembered all the things Mickey had done for him when Fiona was too stressed over Ian to look after her baby brother. Mickey would take Liam to the clinic for checkups, always carried him into the house when the boy was too tired to walk, and even made sure he always had something to eat whenever Lip or Fiona forgot to go grocery shopping. He had a soft spot for the smallest Gallagher sibling and he was never too proud to admit it. 

“So?” Mickey asked. 

“So,” Liam continued, “I’m going to do the same for you.” Liam seemed proud of himself for being the one to actually want to talk to Mickey rather than at him and the latter appreciated that. Mickey paused, eyeing Liam for a second before furrowing his brow. 

“Are you sure you’re Frank’s son?” he asked 

“Seem to be,” Liam said with a shrug. 

“That’s unfortunate,” Mickey said, leaning his forearms on his knees as he leaned forward a bit. 

“It’s not so bad,” Liam said. “I got great brothers and sisters out of it.”

“Right,” said Mickey. 

“Ian told me about the time you were shot by his old boss,” Liam said suddenly. 

“Kash and Grab?” Mickey asked and Liam nodded. Mickey hadn’t thought about that man in years because if he did, all he felt was rage. Lip and Mickey both knew what Kash had been doing to Ian, essentially grooming him, and they both hated it. If anything, it was the one thing that they agreed on. 

“Yeah,” Liam nodded. “He was really worried about you.” 

“I think he was just worried about getting fired by his viagroid boyfriend’s pissed-off wife,” Mickey rationalized, but Liam disagreed. 

“I don’t think so. Other people he’s dated have been hurt or upset and Ian’s never reacted like that with them,” said Liam. 

“How are you so observant?” Mickey asked, trying to gauge where Liam’s head was at. 

“It’s a big house,” Liam said with another shrug. “People tend to forget that I’m around most of the time.” 

“That’s rough,” Mickey said. 

“Rough like being ignored by the person you love?” Liam asked and Mickey’s brows ascended towards his hair.

“I needed time,” he said, unsure of why he was having this conversation with a ten-year-old. 

“Did you tell him that?” Liam asked. 

“I was pretty clear, kid,” Mickey said, leaning back into the chair and propping his leg up on top of the other. 

“That might work for other people, but Ian needs a bit more,” Liam explained. “He’s smart, but he doesn’t always pick up on things like the rest of us.” 

“Can’t argue with that,” Mickey said, knowing very well how unobservant Ian could be at times. 

“I always knew Ian was gay, you know?” Liam continued on. 

“Yeah?” Mickey asked. 

“Yeah, I mean by the time I was old enough to realize what was going on, he was already out and telling people. Then when you were together, I just figured it was normal for you to be around, and then… then you weren’t,” Liam said with a small frown. 

“I was in prison,” Mickey reminded him. 

“No, before that,” Liam said. “You would come and go and then just show back up and Ian would be happy again and I liked that for however long it lasted. I know he feels bad for what happened with Sammi. I know he blames himself.”

“It wasn’t his fault,” Mickey said and he meant it. Ian hadn’t asked Mickey to drug Sammi or lock her up in the crate, he had purely done it to protect Ian. 

“To him, it was,” Liam divulged. “You brought back his happiness and then you got taken away because Sammi called the police on Ian for something he did. He got better when he got the new job but there was still something missing.”

“Which was what?” Mickey asked as he tugged on his fingers, trying to ignore the hammering in his chest. 

“You, Mickey,” Liam said. “You were missing.” Mickey was silent then, letting Liam’s words crash over him like rolling waves. He had always figured that whenever he was in Ian’s life, it was doing more harm than good. Ian made Mickey’s life better, brighter, but Mickey had never realized what his presence had done for Ian’s. Liam, however, had a pretty good idea of what it looked like. 

“How are you so damn wise?” Mickey asked him after another moment of silence. 

“Must be a Gallagher thing,” Liam said with yet another shrug. Mickey was starting to think that was his go-to thing when he spoke his mind. 

“Gallaghers are wise?” Mickey asked, not buying it. 

“When we want to be,” Liam said as he got to his feet. He looked down at Mickey and gave him a tight-lipped smile. “I missed you when you went away,” he admitted. “You were one of the only people who took the time to talk to me and I know that Ian missed you too.” Mickey couldn’t help but feel a bit of pride at that. 

“So, you’re saying that I should call him?” Mickey asked. 

“No,” Liam said with a shake of his head. “You should go see him. After living with my siblings my whole life and seeing all their failed relationships, I’ve realized that these things are better-said face to face.” Liam then approached Mickey and patted him on the shoulder. “Ian has a late shift tonight so he’ll be home all day tomorrow. I’ll try to make sure nobody else needs to be home so you guys can talk.” 

Mickey just stared after Liam as he made his way to the door. Just before he turned the handle, Mickey stopped him. “Liam,” he said, gaining the kid’s attention. 

“Yeah?” Liam asked with another patient look on his face. 

“I never forget you’re there,” Mickey admitted, letting out a breath. Liam simply smiled at him before leaving the apartment and leaving Mickey to his thoughts. 

Sitting back in the chair, Mickey ran his hands over his face. “Ian Gallagher, you sneaky son of a bitch.” 

The next day, Ian was finally up after sleeping for most of the morning.

The quiet of the house was a nice change of pace, but that meant he was alone with his thoughts and that was not a comforting thought. Just as he was about to find coffee, there was a knock at the door. Hoping it wasn’t Frank, Ian sauntered over and pulled it open. 

“That was low, calling in the little brother,” Mickey said in greeting as he beheld a surprised Ian. “That kid is convincing as fuck.” Ian took a step to the side as Mickey pushed past him and into the Gallagher house. He looked around and was thankful that Liam had come through and nobody else was home. 

“I had to try something,” Ian said as he shut the door and followed Mickey into the living room. Mickey turned to look at him, trying to figure out how to start. Ian beat him to it though. “I’m so sorry, Mick,” Ian began. “I just left you alone and I never thought about what that would mean besides just breaking up with you.” 

“You can’t…” Mickey paused, trying to keep his emotions in check. “You can’t just play with my feelings like that. You can’t just choose when you want to be in love with me or whether I’m worth it or not,” he said, finally getting the words out that he had been mulling over since he saw Ian walk into the Alibi with Lip and Brad. 

“I know,” Ian said. 

“Do you?” Mickey asked. “Cause I get it. I was an asshole to you when we were just starting out and fuck, I know I fucked up and did some horrible shit.” 

“Which I forgave you for,” Ian reminded him. Mickey knew what he was referring to. All the comments about him not caring about Ian, the “warm mouth” moment in the store, and especially when Mickey had beaten Ian up after Terry’s attempt at forced conversion therapy. 

“And we worked through it,” Mickey went on. “I came out, I told you that I loved you, and then…” 

“And then I got sick,” Ian finished, but Mickey was shaking his head. 

“It wasn’t just that," Mickey said. “I felt like because I was trying, you didn’t want me anymore. It was like you preferred it when I was an asshole to you and only using you for sex.”

“I didn’t,” Ian said, taking a step forward. Mickey took one back. 

“I don’t believe you,” Mickey said, his voice cracking slightly as his emotions began to win.

“I remember the exact moment I found out about you marrying Svetlana,” Ian began, shifting gears. “Mandy had casually mentioned it at school one day. She didn’t know about us and I had tried not to react, but it broke me to hear that you were marrying the woman who did... that to you. It made me sick. All I wanted to do was run away and take you with me.” 

“That’s not how life works,” Mickey said. 

“I know, but I still wanted to try,” said Ian. “I tried everything I could to keep you out of my head the second you had me pinned in your room that day but I couldn’t do it. I tried to be with other men, brush you off when it was too hard to keep my hands off you, but you always roped me back in. The day at Ned’s when you kissed me for the first time… Man, I felt like I was on fire. Then after what happened with your dad, I knew that I wouldn’t be able to stay away, but I also knew you were going to shut me out.” 

“I had my reasons,” Mickey said, trying to get Ian to understand why he had shut him out. 

“I know,” said Ian. “You were doing it to protect me from Terry.” Mickey nodded. “Still, it didn’t stop me from falling in love with you. You never gave up on me even when you wanted nothing to do with me. The night you found me passed outside the Fairytale, on the way home you told me that you’d always be there to pick my ass off the street and you always kept that promise.”

“You remember that?” Mickey asked, surprised Ian could remember anything about his club days. Mickey had said a lot of things in the Uber on the way home, but he didn’t think Ian was even conscious half the time. 

“I remember everything you’ve said to me,” Ian said, taking another step and was glad to see that Mickey didn’t retreat this time. “I should have been there when you were locked up.” Mickey nodded, running a hand through his hair. 

“I didn’t expect you to fucking live behind that glass wall, but I needed… I needed you and I needed to know if you were okay, Ian,” Mickey admitted, looking at the man in front of him with a near pleading expression. “I had nightmares that you were in a ditch somewhere, out of your mind, while full bottles of pills were still in your room.” Ian grimaced, hating how Mickey had worried about him. 

“I didn’t want you to worry, Mick,” he said. 

“Tough shit,” Mickey shot back. “That’s what you do when you’re in love.” Ian was startled by that. 

“You still love me?” he asked. 

“What the fuck do you think?” Mickey asked, incredulously. 

“You seemed so angry,” Ian said, reminding him of their last conversation. 

“I was,” Mickey said, “and I needed a minute to breathe. Contrary to popular belief, I do care about being in prison and I don’t want to get familiar with those fucking concrete walls. I’d rather not be another frequent flyer Milkovich,” Mickey admitted. “You always say that you need to get your shit together, well it was my turn, Ian.”

“I get that,” Ian said. 

“My life ain’t gonna be a carbon copy of Terry’s. I’m gonna be better, I have to be the better man,” Mickey said, unable to stop himself now that he was letting it all out. 

“You already are,” Ian said, walking right up to him. 

“I can’t go back,” Mickey said, looking up into Ian’s bright and attentive green eyes. “I have to think straight and when I’m with you or not with you… I ain’t gonna survive if you suddenly decide I’m not worth it again.” Ian reached up and took Mickey's face in his hands. Mickey had never outwardly expressed his desire to break the Milkovich mold like this. Ian could hear the fear behind every word and it hurt him to see Mickey like that. He was the strongest man Ian had ever known, but he always admired the strength it took to tell Ian all of this. 

“I won’t,” Ian told him. “You are always worth it. Always. I love you, Mickey, and I don’t want to lose you.” Mickey was shaking his head as he placed his hands over Ian’s. 

“You never lost me,” Mickey said softly, relaxing under Ian’s touch. “You may have wanted to end things, but I never got rid of us.” He then took Ian’s hand and lowered it to his chest, right on top of the tattoo that remained on Mickey’s heart. 

“I’m so sorry,” Ian said again and he was willing to say it as many times as it took for Mickey to hear him. Ian looked into Mickey’s eyes then and saw something that reminded him of something Mandy had once said to him. That look in Mickey’s eyes finally made him relax. 

“I’m sorry, too,” Mickey said, reaching up to run his thumb along Ian’s cheekbone.

“For what?” Ian asked, his brow furrowed. Mickey smoothed out the crease between his brows, not letting Ian stress about anything else. 

“For not letting you in sooner,” Mickey said. “We could have more, so much more. Fuck, I missed you,” Mickey breathed out as he tugged Ian into him. Their lips met with a warm and firm kiss. Ian threw his arms around Mickey’s pulling him even closer. Mickey savored the feel of Ian Gallagher’s lips on his own as he sighed into the kiss. 

Shoving his hands into Ian’s hair, he tugged on it, eliciting a moan from the taller man much to Mickey’s satisfaction. Ian kissed him a few more times before he pulled back, letting his forehead rest against Mickey’s so they could catch their breath. “Tell your family to back off now,” Mickey said with a smile. 

“Tell them yourself,” Ian said. “You're moving in with me.” 

“Is that so?” Mickey asked as he pushed back a bit so he could see Ian’s face. 

“Don’t argue with me, Mr. Milkovich,” Ian said, his fingers playing with the hair at the nape of Mickey’s neck.

“You know I don’t like taking orders. I had enough of that shit in the joint,” Mickey said. 

“You never complained before,” Ian said seductively as he ran his hand down Mickey’s stomach and towards his hips. Mickey raised his brows then, leaning into Ian’s hands. 

“You are something else, Gallagher,” Mickey said, grateful to be with him once again, “but fuck I love you.”

“Then come here,” Ian urged as he reached for Mickey’s belt. Looking at Ian’s face, his expression filled with not just lust but love as well, Mickey melted beneath Ian’s gaze and finally felt as if he was free for the first time since getting out. 

“Fuck it,” he swore as he tugged Ian in close. “Yes, Sir.” Ian grinned as he wrapped himself around Mickey again, letting everything between them solidify as they had found their way back to each other once again.