Work Text:
Friday
December 19, 2014
Gallagher House - 7:15am
“It’s 7:15 monkeys. Come on.”
Ian’s already awake. Has been for at least thirty minutes before Fiona knocked on their door and barged in, making sure everyone was up and on their way to getting dressed for school. He got in the habit of waking up earlier than Lip and Carl a long time ago. Had to if he wanted any privacy. Those two were nosy as hell.
He’s starting to think it’s weird that Fiona still feels the need to pound on their door every morning. Sure, Carl is still a kid and needs all the parenting he can get. But him and Lip? They’re in high school already. He’s in ROTC, Lip got all A’s and has a whole school report writing business on the side. They’re pretty much adults.
He wonders if Fiona will always mother them like this as long as they live here.
Which wouldn’t be for much longer. He was only a sophomore, but he already had goals set for himself that would allow him to leave. Get out of Chicago, out of the South Side. Away from the noise and chaos that came with a house full of kids. Away from their dad, who only cared to show up just enough to sniff out extra change in the couch cushions, or use them for some kind of government scam. Away from Fiona’s overprotection and micromanaging.
Apparently, some kid a few years older than them at Lincoln Grove was at West Point now. Studying to be an officer. After he graduated from there, he’d be eligible to work all over the world. Ian thought that sounded pretty sweet to him.
Realizing he has a geometry test today - that he has to ace - he bolts up out of bed, socked feet hitting the rug, eyes scanning the floor for his textbook that he’d fallen asleep reading.
He sees a basket full of clean laundry that Fiona must have left by the door. He’s ready to fight Lip if he tries to wear his favorite t-shirt again today.
Lip’s halfway down the bunk bed ladder, gunning for the bathroom. Fuck that, no way he was gonna get there before Ian.
Milkovich House - 7:15am
Mickey cracks an eye open and lifts a hand to block out the thin strip of light that’s managed to make it through his dingy curtains.
“What the fuck,” he mutters, voice raspy first thing in the morning, made worse by how long he stayed out on their snowy porch chain smoking the night before.
He sits up on his elbows and rubs his eyes, willing his body to wake up. He has no idea what time it is. Looking down on the floor for his phone, he finds it wedged between his boots and an empty beer can, his screen lighting up at him to reveal it’s 7:15. Why the hell is he up so early?
His senses sharpen and he remembers. It’s a school day, the last one before winter break. He wonders how many days of school he’s actually attended this semester. Probably time for him to just drop out entirely. His current lifestyle of staying up well into the night listening to his dad’s tirades isn’t necessarily conducive to perfect school attendance.
Terry was back at it with the coke. By the time he stumbled through the front door yesterday, it was past midnight - and since he was wired and paranoid as fuck, Mickey was forced to sit around the kitchen table with Iggy and Colin, counting stacks of cash over and over until Terry was pleased with the math.
His dad was a nightmare on any given day, but these benders tied Mickey’s life into even tighter knots.
The house is mostly quiet now, save for a chainsaw-like snore coming from the living room. He collapses down into his pillow again and decides it’s too damn cold for school today anyway.
Just like every morning, he wonders if there’s any food in the house.
Gallagher House - 7:35am
Ian runs down the stairs, shoving Lip and Carl the entire way down. It’s a miracle no one trips and avalanches them all down into a big pile on the floor. He can hear Fiona yelling something about roughhouseing from the kitchen.
Limbs intact, they descend on the kitchen table in one chaotic cloud, not even stopping to situate themselves in chairs as they start grabbing and piling onto plates.
Ian’s eyes light up when he sees that someone’s remembered to buy more orange juice. He’s so used to sharing every bit of food in the house with his siblings, but he gets downright furious when there’s no OJ in the house.
Carl tries to knock him out of his chair, but he gets a good shove in and takes his place.
“You got your geometry quiz today, Ian?” Fiona asks above the noise, looking over her shoulder as she assembles sandwiches.
“Not just a quiz, it’s finals now,” he replies, making a grab for the last toaster waffle that’s miraculously been left over as his siblings continue to demolish all that’s in front of them.
“Nerd,” Carl coughs out, causing Lip to take a break from his phone to smack him on the back of the neck.
Peering out the window, Fiona adds, “Better put on your heavy jackets today, it’s fuckin’ freezing outside. And hats and scarves. Don’t wanna hear anything about how hot it is inside school.” She rolls her eyes amid the groans. “No one’s got time to get sick around here.”
Ian knows she’s right. The temperature’s dropped significantly over the last couple of weeks. His jacket’s threadbare, a hand-me-down from Lip and it was already a bottom-of-the-bin thrift store find to begin with. Debbie knit him a scarf over Thanksgiving break, and while it’s not the cutest thing he’s owned, he’s been wearing it day in, day out ever since.
Maybe he could save up enough at his afterschool job to get a new jacket.
Milkovich House - 7:35am
Mickey shuts his eyes and tries for the third time to will himself back to sleep, but the sharp pangs in his stomach finally convince him to get out of bed. He figures there’s gotta be some Pringles or a piece of bread or something in the cupboards. At least leftovers from the last time Terry had his buddies over to play poker.
If not, he’ll need to go hit up the corner store again. Or maybe the gas station. Swipe a Snickers or something when the dumbass attendant’s helping some old lady pump gas. He’s got options.
What he could really use is a goddamn shower, but considering how much Terry loves to hoard his cash (and guns and dope), he’s not so much a fan of doling it out to the man. Hot water’s been shut off for weeks. Mickey didn’t mind so much in the summer and fall months, when he could go dunk into Lake Michigan and sit out in the sun to dry off.
It’s a whole other story when it’s December and you can’t even wash your hands because the water out of the faucet comes out icey. Never mind washing your face. What did Terry care? They were just his kids afterall.
Maybe he should go to school. That way he’d be guaranteed a bathroom with warm water at least. And free lunch so he wouldn’t have to swipe too much from the gas station. Last time, the cafeteria had cheese pizza that tasted like cardboard. It wasn’t the worst.
He climbs out of bed and grabs a discarded pair of pants on the floor, not even checking if they’re clean. There’s no laundry service in the Milkovich house. These will do.
Gallagher House - 8:00am
“Liam, honey, if you smoosh that entire banana into the plate, there’ll be nothin’ for your tummy,” Fiona coos at the baby and gets a hearty giggle in response.
Ian goes down a mental checklist of all the supplies he’ll need for the day. Textbooks, notebooks, extra pencils for his math test. Busted old cell phone in his pocket. He’ll grab a bagged lunch off the counter that Fiona’s assembled for them. Bologna sandwiches and generic potato chips again, most likely. Everyone else complains, but Fiona’s lunches are light years better than whatever cardboard they serve in the free lunch line in the cafeteria.
Along with his backpack, he also needs to grab an old duffle bag so he can bring all his ROTC gear home for winter break. He’s excited to practice some short-range pistol shooting under the L with Lip. On Christmas Day if Fiona doesn’t nag them too much about it.
He’s got a long day ahead of him. ROTC after school, then his shift at the Kash n’ Grab. Lately, Fiona’s been on his ass about being so busy. “Ian, you sure you’re not takin’ on too much? Between school and ROTC and now this job.”
“We need the cash Fiona. Plus I like to work.” He did. He liked being in charge or something. The responsibility. And that job was pretty easy, just stocking shelves and working the register. Kash seemed like an OK boss for now.
Sometimes he tries to imagine what it would be like if Fiona didn’t take care of them. If she’d had the chance to be a regular kid. He tries to help around the house as best he can.
Milkovich House - 8:00am
On his way to the kitchen, Mickey tries his best to creep around the couch, careful not to wake Terry up. He’d probably crashed out well after 3am last night. Would be a death wish to disturb him now.
He sees Mandy in the kitchen, looking through the cupboards. Must have the same idea as him.
“Morning, assface,” she greets him as he walks through the kitchen doorway. “You’re shit out of luck if you want food.”
“What the fuck else is new around here. Didn’t he just give you cash for grocery shopping like yesterday?”
“Try two weeks ago,” Mandy replied, glaring at him. “Why’re you up so early anyway? Don’t tell me you’re going to school.”
“Better than sitting around here waiting for Pops to wake up and drag me on some trash errand,” he says, rifling through the cabinet above the sink. All he finds there is a scraped out jar of peanut butter and an ancient container of ground coffee.
“They have free breakfast at school. Blueberry muffins and granola bars and some other shit.”
He can’t believe he’d actually consider eating a granola bar. He must be really hungry.
Gallagher House - 8:10am
“Yo Ian let’s go,” Lips says and nods toward the door. Ian takes one more gulp of juice before throwing his jacket on.
Lunches packed, Fiona’s moved on to other tasks, like counting the cash the kids threw into the shoebox. He hopes there’s enough there to pay this month’s utility bills.
What he really wishes is that they could make enough money to get Fiona a car, so she didn’t have to drag through the snow from job to job. It’s bad now, Fiona having to take the train everywhere, even worse when she needs to get Liam to daycare.
She always acts like she’s got it all handled, but he sees the bags under her eyes and knows some of the jobs she picks up are degrading as hell.
She does it all for them, he knows that. One day he’ll figure out how to pay her back.
The Milkoviches - 8:10am
Mickey puts his boots on and stomps through the front door of the Milkovich house, reluctantly set to follow his sister to school. His jacket hangs down to his knees, ratty scarf wrapped around his neck. He’s not scared of the cold though. Between runs with his dad and chasing down assholes for payment on the street, he spends enough time outside in the snow. Still would be nice to get a new coat one of these days, he thinks. This one’s seen a lot.
As they set out on their walk to school, Mickey curses his decision to go along with Mandy afterall. The temptation of having a comfortable nap in Mr. Griswold’s Lit class won out in the end.
“Great,” he hears Mandy mutter beside him as she sets her sights on a small group of kids walking about a block in front of them. “Gallaghers.”
He takes a deep inhale of his cigarette and blows out a frosty cloud of smoke. His nose feels like an ice cube.
“What about ‘em?” He peers down the street, eyes landing on the tallest of the group. The skinny, goofy one with the red hair. He watches him shift his heavy backpack from side to side, his jacket stretching across his shoulders. He watches him laugh and pull the little kid’s beanie off his head and then attempt to trip the older one. Lip.
That family was always walking in a cluster like that. They actually seemed to like each other.
“They think they’re so much better than us,” Mandy mumbles and screws up her face.
“The Gallaghers are fucking dorks. How do you know what they think?”
They’d grown up knowing that family. School, playgrounds, sidewalk corners. Terry and Frank had a dealer/deadbeat client thing going for years. He’d never really talked to any of them. Couple of times with Lip to exchange weed for book reports.
There were a ton of kids in their neighborhood. Not like this ragtag crew was special.
“You can just tell. It’s just like, you know they’re just as fucked up as us, have fucked up parents. Poor as shit.” She tries unsuccessfully to grab the cigarette out of his hand.
“Get your own,” he huffs, swerving out of her way. “So what’s your point?”
“Just ‘cause they have an older sister who acts like their mom. They always seem I dunno. Just act like they’re not as deep in shit as we are.”
Mickey stares down the street again at the group of kids. Their clothes aren’t new or anything, but they look clean. They’re joking around, laughing together. He sees the redhead swing his arm around the little girl to give her a hug. He assumes they go to school every day.
“Speak for yourself, skank. I’m goin’ places,” he says, and mirroring the kids in front of them, swipes the knitted hat off Mandy’s head and takes off running towards school.
“Asshole!” Mandy takes off after him.
They run right past the Gallagher kids, and Mickey, in an impromptu move he still remembers to this day, shoulder checks the redhead on his way. He doesn’t stop to say sorry.
The Gallaghers - 8:20am
“Hey!” Ian yells after the kid. Mickey Milkovich.
He watches him run off toward school, chased by his sister, her long, pink-streaked hair flying behind her.
“Since when does Mickey go to school?” Lip asks, smirking around his lit cigarette.
“Asshole didn’t have to run into me,” Ian says, adjusting his backpack, eyes following Mickey and Mandy as they run into the distance.
“I heard those kids get locked in the house every time their dad goes to jail,” Ian hears Carl announce.
“I heard their mom disappeared and no one knows where she went,” Debbie chimes in.
“You gonna believe everything you hear on the street? Wise up kiddos.” Lip finishes his smoke and gestures for the younger kids to get a move on.
Ian pauses as his siblings make their way down the street. Mickey was such an asshole. Ever since kindergarten when he used to steal his crayons on a daily basis.
He’d always been kind of cute, though.
Ian rubs his shoulder and runs to catch up with his siblings.
Present Day
The Apartment - 8:00am
Mickey cracks an eye open and lifts a hand to block out the thin strip of light shining through their new blackout curtains.
Five more minutes, he thinks and sinks back into his plush pillow, pulling the soft duvet up to his ears.
It’s the smell of fresh coffee that finally tempts him out of sleep. And it’s wafting closer his way. Thank fuck because they’d been up way too late playing poker with Carl and Lip.
A big mug is placed next to him on the nightstand.
He lifts up on his elbows to rub the sleep out of his eyes. It always takes him a minute when he first wakes up. To remember where he is. That everything he has in his life is real and not a dream.
“Morning handsome.” Ian bends down to kiss his cheek.
“Damn I get coffee in bed? Great service around here,” Mickey says before grabbing the mug and taking a deep inhale of the fragrant steam.
“Just felt like taking care of you today,” Ian says and nuzzles his ear.
“You take care of me plenty.” Mickey smirks and watches Ian walk to the other side of the bed and drop down next to him, getting back under the covers. “You’re up early. You getting enough sleep?”
He puts the coffee back on the nightstand so he can join Ian under the covers and burrow into his chest.
“You worry too much,” Ian softly mumbles.
“I gotta worry, you’re my husband,” Mickey says and runs his thumb along the edge of his ring. He loves playing with it, fidgeting with it when he’s stressed. The weight of it on his finger.
They lay quietly for a while. Ian’s fingers comb through his hair, and he almost falls back asleep.
“Sickness, health, all that shit, right?” Ian asks.
Mickey lifts his head to meet Ian’s eyes. Flashes of memories run through both of their minds.
Just kids. A snowy winter day.
“Yep. All of it.”