Work Text:
He doesn’t remember how it started one minute it was just him and Ian, and it was good, so good. To be with him. He was excited to finally spend time with Ian like this even though he would never admit it. He felt like home, something Mickey never really got to feel before, something he's only ever felt with Ian.
Then Terry came barging in, pulling them apart and throwing him to the ground. Then je goes straight for Ian. His Ian.
“No Dad! Dad! Please” he begs as Terry keeps beating the shit out of Ian.
“NO SON OF MINE’S GONNA BE A COCK SUCKING FAGGOT” Terry screams.
He tries to pull him off Ian but he gets thrown across the room back slamming against a wall with a sickening crunch. His head is pounding. The room is spinning. Everything’s blurry and his ears are ringing. He sees Ian, blood covering his face and chest. He can’t see Terry. They need to get out of here, get Ian out of here, somewhere safe. He tries to get up but it hurts, he can’t breathe. It hurts so bad. It doesn’t matter. Ian’s not moving. Ian. His Ian.
“Mickey .”
He’s just lying there unmoving. He just wants it to stop.
“Mickey.”
He can’t breathe. What can’t he breathe?
“Mick, Baby.“
It’s dark. Someone’s next to him trying to say something. He can’t hear. Tears are streaming down his face. He can’t breathe. He fights to get air into his lungs but he can’t, he can’t and he’s dying and Ian’s gone.
When his eyes finally adjust to the darkness he sees Ian.
That’s not possible he’s gone. Terry killed him.
“No,” he manages to gasp out.
“Shh, Baby just breathe. Can I touch you?”
Mickey nods slowly unable to find words, still gasping for air. Ian shuffles closer to him before wrapping his arms around him and pulling him into his lap. Mickey immediately buries his face in Ian’s chest.
“Just follow my breathing Baby. In. Out. In. Out.”
Mickey focuses on following the rise and fall of Ian’s chest, copying, forcing his lungs to start working again.
“Good. There you go baby. Just keep on breathing.” Ian coos while rubbing soothing circles on his back.
Mickey lets out a choking sob. Holding onto Ian for dear life. His nails were digging into his shoulders, face buried in his chest, sobbing and gasping.
Ian’s there holding him, whispering sweet reassurances to him, gently rocking him. His chin resting on Mickey’s head holding him close.
It takes awhile for him to come back. He doesn’t know how long it doesn’t really matter right now. He’s still crying but he can get air into his lungs and isn’t shaking has hard. The room stopped spinning and his ears are no longer ringing
Ian pulls back enough to look at Mickey. Pulling his chin up so he can see him.
“H-he killed you. You were-weren’t moving. You were gone.” He sputtered out shaking harder.
“Terry?” Ian questions.
“Hey, hey Mick, I’m here. I’m safe. You’re safe. Everyone’s safe. It’s okay.” Ian speaks softly holding him tighter.
“You wanna lie down, sweetheart?” Ian asks still rubbing his back.
Mickey nods and Ian lays them both down, keeping Mickey against his chest, hugging him tight.
“Please don’t leave” Mickey begs.
“Never, Baby. Never” Ian speaks softly but surely. Holding him close as Mickey sniffles into his shoulder.
“Go to sleep babe. You need it.” Ian murmurs.
“I don’ wanna sleep. What if you’re gone when I wake up?” Mickey mumbles into Ian’s chest.
“I won’t leave. I promise I’ll be here when you wake up.”
