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Summary
"That's when the dreams began.
The first dream, he was walking up the stairs of an old and cluttered house. The stairs barely creeked and the doors were quiet as he opened them. Once inside, the clutter matched the outside, and there were beer cans everywhere. At the couch rather dingy, there was a man sleeping, snoring away stomach down in nothing but boxers. There was a tattoo that his mind wouldn't let himself make out, and he was off, walking to a door with cardboard reading "Keep the FUCK out!!!". And ignoring the angry scratched on letters, he enetered. There was a boy, laying on his stomach the same as the man outside though he wore dirty sweats and an even dirtier tank top. His hand lifted mindlessly and poked at the boy's back with a...when did he pick up a tire iron?
The boy roused and finally acknowledged, grunting out obscenties as he turned over to see who'd waken the beast?"
Or
Alternature Universe AU where the shitty lives of Ian and Mickey were all just a dream.