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It was supposed to be a normal Tuesday night. Terry was off finishing a job; Iggy and Jamie were in the kitchen cleaning their hand guns and smoking weed. Colin was asleep in his room. Mickey and Mandy were on the couch with Mandy (and, secretly, Mickey’s) favourite lanky ginger sandwiched between them as they played the Xbox and passed their own joint between the three of them, and a half drunk bottle of vodka on the table.
Everything seemed normal, or at least what passed for normal in the Milkovich house. The 5 of them were so absorbed into their own bubble, no one heard Colin come in. Standing in his boxers, hair sticking up like he has been dragged around by his ankles. He was staring at his phone like it had just asked him to solve world hunger.
“Dads dead.” He said, still staring at the phone as though it might perform some trick. The silence seemed to pass over the room like a wave - Jamie dropped the barrel of his gun, Iggy choked on the smoke he tried to exhale. Mandy’s clamped her hand onto Ian’s knee, and he wrapped an arm round her, glancing at Mickey. Mickey, who has sat up so straight so quickly, he could have damaged his spine.
Coughing and spluttering round the smoke, he had almost swallowed. Iggy choked out “Wait, what the fuck. Dead .. like dead, dead.” His stoned brain taking longer to process the information.
“What other kind of dead is there, you fucking idiot.” Mickey snapped, standing up to look at Colin. “What the fuck happened? He was going to finish a job - so easy, he didn’t need ANY of us.” Waving his arms wildly around the room, as if to emphasize the fact they were all there and Terry hadn’t taken them.
“Shoot out with the cops.” Colin was still looking at his phone. “Job went south, someone ratted. Cops showed up, Terry started fuckin’ shooting, and so did they. Terry hit a cop, and then they hit him.” “They, um, they’ve taken him to the hospital. Something about procedure and the morgue. University of Illinois Hospital. We can … see him tomorrow I guess. Need to discuss arrangements for him.”
Mickey thumbed at his eyebrow as he paced in front of the couch. Everyone in the room seemed to track him with their eyes. “Arrangements” he scoffed almost to himself. “As if we are gonna have some north side funeral for him ……. Fuck.”
Ian started to lean forward, “Mick…”. Mickey leapt to his feet as though the sound of Ian’s voice had burned him. “Fuck no, fuck off.” His eyes going wild as he took in the room, everyone staring at him. “Fuck this.” He grabbed the vodka from the table, slamming the front door as he left.
***********
Hours had passed since Colin had told them all that Terry was dead and Mickey had run from the house.
Ian had become a human pillow for Mandy, who had quietly sobbed before angrily wiping her face and folded herself into Ian’s arms and dozed off.
Iggy, Colin and Jamie were sat round the table talking in hushed tones, occasionally shooting glances towards a sleeping Mandy.
It was a little after 2am when the front door swung open, smacking off the wall. The loud noise making everyone jump. Mandy rubbed her eyes as she sat up from Ian’s lap. “Asshole” she muttered, and she stretched out stiff from being curled up. Iggy and Jamie let go of the guns they had been reaching for. Colin’s head popping round from the kitchen with the beginnings of an insult on his lips.
Mickey was panting hard, as if he had just run a marathon.
“He’s dead. Terry fucking Milkovich is dead. Like dead, dead. Six feet under with the worms dead.”
“Uh yeah man. I dunno how he could be any other kind of dead.” Colin scratched the back of his head. “Did you finish that vodka, man? You seem kinda weird.”
Mickeys eyes seemed to fly across the room, until they landed on Ian, who had gone from sitting next to Mandy to standing holding out a hand in a placating gesture.
“Gallagher.” Mickey’s voice had gone quiet and adopted an unusual tone.
“Mickey, I….” Ian never got a chance to finish his sentence before Mickey had crossed the room in 3 strides, grabbed Ian by the front of his T-shirt, and slammed him against the closest wall.
Mandy shrieked in horror, and try to jump on his back to force him to let her best friend go. Iggy grabbed her round the waist and pulled her away from the boys. “LET HIM SO YOU FUCKING DICK, HE’S DONE NOTHING TO YOU. I SWEAR TO FUCK MICKEY IF YOU HURT HIM, I’LL MAKE YOUR LIFE A LIVING HELL.” She struggled against Iggy, who just shushed her. Before passing her off to Jamie, just in case he needed to pull Mickey off of Mandy’s ginger friend.
Mickeys chest was still heaving as if he hadn’t caught his breath yet, his knuckles white and his fists were beginning to shake, his grip on Ian’s t shirt never letting up.
“Terry’s dead.” His voice impossibly quiet, his eyes were wide and flittered across Ian’s face, as though he was seeing him for the first time.
“Like that witch that squished by that house. Remember, in that film you put on for Liam, the one with the little orange men.”
“Yeah, Mick, I remember.” Ian seemed to relax a bit, while Mandy choked on her own saliva. Since when did Mickey watch The Wizard of Oz, better yet, when did he watch it with Ian and Liam?
“Mick, I…”
“Shut up Gallagher.” Mickey growled before pushing him further against the wall.
Iggy started towards Mickey, ready to pull his brother away. Before he could fully take two steps, he heard Mickey mutter, “Fuck it, he’s dead. Can’t beat the shit out of me now.”
Then Mickey kissed Ian. In the middle of his dead, Nazi-loving homophobic father's living room, with his confused siblings and cousin as an audience.
He knew there would be questions, probably some yelling, Mandy might even throw something. But for now, he was enjoying the feeling of Ian's arms as they wrapped around him, deepening the kiss he was having with his boyfriend.
Mickey fuckin' Milkovich was gay and was kissing his boyfriend cause he wanted too.
The fuckin' end.