Chapter Text
“You wanna catch a movie later?” Mandy asks Ian one afternoon, not long after they started dating.
“Can’t. Gotta stake out a wake and try to steal a water heater.” Mandy rolls her eyes and lounges back on Ian’s knees; the Gallaghers are always doing stupid shit like that when anyone else knows to just steal the cash it takes to buy a new one. It’s a moral code thing, Ian tells her, but she thinks they just like making things hard for themselves. “You can come if you want, create a distraction or whatever.” His eyes skirt to her cleavage and she elbows him in the ribs.
“Fuck off, like you can carry a water heater out by yourself.”
“Lip’ll be there. He’s got the whole thing planned out.” Mandy shrugs but doesn’t bother answering. Ian’s still got that stupid little kid faith that there’s no problem his big brother can’t fix and yeah, all right, from what she knows of Lip that’s probably not too far off from the truth, but still. Mandy knows better.
Brothers are good to give a beat down to anyone that pisses you off and not a whole lot else. One of these days Lip will let Ian down, and the more he idolizes him, the worse it’ll be.
“Suit yourself,” Ian mutters, and flicks a lock of her hair out of his textbook.
**
Irritating as it is, it doesn’t take long for Mandy to figure out that if she wants to hang out with Ian, she’s going to have to put up with his brother too. Lip is always just around, whether its smoking on his bunk or walking with them on the way home from school. And when he’s not there, Ian invites him over half the time anyway.
And the stupid fucker knows that they aren’t really together together, so she can’t even scare him off the way she can get Carl and Debbie to scram by grabbing Ian’s collar and kissing him.
(Ian always laughs and twirls her hair around one of his fingers when she does, his lips swollen and stained with her lip gloss)
It’s not so bad, really, when it’s the three of them. She’d rather have Ian to herself, but Lip makes Ian let his guard down and just because he’s an arrogant douchebag doesn’t mean he’s not funny every once in a while. And he does have an eye for a good scam.
But when Ian runs off to go fuck his skeevy boss and she’s left on the street with his stupid brother and his stupid condescending face, well, she didn’t sign on for that shit.
“I hear you’re fucking Harvey Kline,” Lip says cheerfully. He offers her his cigarette, but Mandy rolls her eyes, quickening her pace in the hopes that he will take the hint and fuck off.
He doesn’t, but then she shouldn’t be surprised. She doesn’t think Ian knew she was interested until she practically took his dick in her mouth.
“You’re going to turn Ian into the cuckold of the sophomore class,” Lip continues.
“Better than the alternative,” she mutters just loud enough for him to hear over the roar of cars speeding beside them.
It’s not even true, not that Lip would believe her. Harvey made a pass at her outside the locker room last week and she turned him down because, well, gross. And when he wouldn't let up she kneed him in the groin. But that’s not the story he told and who would take the word of that slutty Milkovich girl over the star of the basketball team, even if they hadn't won a game in three years.
“How long you think that’s been going on?” Lip asks, falling into step beside her, cigarette hanging loosely between his fingers.
“What?” she says harshly, already on edge.
“Ian and Kash.” There’s a bite to his words she didn’t expect; Lip always acted totally cool about Ian being gay.
“You got a fucking problem?” she demands, whirling around to face him. There are a lot of bigoted assholes in the world she can’t defend Ian from, most of them in her immediate family, but she sure as hell can take care of Lip Gallagher.
But Lip just raises his eyebrows. “With that pedophile fucking my brother? Yeah, I got a problem.”
Mandy tries to school her face into one of indifference, but she can’t quite hide her surprise. None of her brothers ever give a shit about who she fucks until she tells them to.
“Well if it helps, I’m pretty sure Kash isn’t the one doing the fucking.” She relishes the rare gobsmacked expression on Lip’s face before turning the corner to her house.
**
Mandy had never spent any time with the Gallaghers before Ian. They’ve been in the same class since they entered school, but as a kid Ian flew under the radar. Lip Gallagher was a legend: the boy who’d talk back to teachers without fear and always be proven right and who once masterminded a prank involving a raccoon that got them out of school for two days. But all she remembers of Ian from those years is bright red hair shorn close more often than not and the way he’d ditch his friends to tag along with his brother during recess.
Her dad told her that those Gallaghers thought they were so much better than everyone, but now she knows better: they just didn’t trust anyone else.
Mandy didn’t pay any of them any attention until she was thirteen and Lip caught her giving Billy Grey head under the bleachers.
Billy was two years ahead of her and all of her girlfriends had a crush on him. He played on the varsity baseball team and she’d pulled his grass-stained trousers down to his ankles and smiled up at him. When she opened her eyes, Billy’s hand still fisted tightly in her braids, she’d caught Lip staring at them, cigarette dangling from his lips as he leaned against the equipment shed.
He didn’t say anything, just watched her with amusement in his eyes for a few moments before turning away with a shake of his head and walking back to the track.
That day she choked and spit even though she’d had enough practice by then to know better. Billy glared at her half-heartedly and pulled his pants up with a quick thanks.
He doesn't seek her out again.
Mandy never felt smaller than she did in that moment, and she hated him for it. Who the fuck was Lip fucking Gallagher to judge her, anyway? The asshole strutted around school with a smirk that said he found all the adolescent drama surrounding him entirely beneath him, like a couple report cards made him better than everyone else.
Determined to wipe that condescending smile off his face, that night she told Missy Johnson that she and Lip had fucked, but he couldn’t keep his dick hard long enough to finish. By the next week half the school had heard, but Lip just met her gaze in the hallway equal parts entertained and disinterested.
That was the problem with Lip Gallagher: nothing she did could ever faze him. He went through life cool and detached and nothing touched him.
(Not until Karen Jackson finally got under his skin and yeah, maybe when she heard about that shit with her and Frank through Ian she felt a little vindicated. Just a bit.)
**
Ever since Lip mentioned it, she can’t help but wonder about Kash. She’s slept with older guys before and Lip has probably fucked older women before, but there’s something so innocent about Ian, something so naïve and trusting, and the idea that some old fucker is taking advantage of that, using him the way everyone but Ian uses her, makes her blood boil.
So one day she comes home with tears staining her cheeks, having perfected the art of fake crying by the time she was eight.
“The fuck happened to you?” Mickey asks, reluctantly peeling his eyes away from his slasher flick.
“That creepy Arab guy at the Kash and Grab grabbed my ass,” she sniffles, hiding her smirk behind her hands.
After that she just lets things run their course: if there’s one thing you can always count on a Milkovich for, it’s to think with their fists.
Things go well for a while, with Mickey harassing Kash the way she can’t and Mandy congratulating herself for finding a way to look out for Ian the way Lip can’t. Until Ian has to get involved and blow all her plans to shit.
He shoves past her and is ripping Mickey’s room apart before she has the chance to process what’s happening. He’s frantic and reckless in a way she’s never seen in him, and it scares her just a little. She’s not sure if it’s because ROTC or no, Mickey could actually kill Ian, or if it’s because she’s starting to suspect that he might be a little bit in love with Kash.
It takes a lot of effort, but she manages to calm him down enough to get him out of the house before Mickey comes back and catches him. That night she screams at her brother to lay off and give the damn gun back but he just laughs and blows her off. Terry’s drinking in the kitchen, and Mickey’s playing some shit video game, and all Mandy can think about is the way Ian barely even looked at her that morning and there’s something cold and sharp in her chest she doesn’t want to acknowledge.
The next morning she wakes up early, determined to sneak into Mickey’s room and steal the gun so she can stop feeling so damn guilty and see Ian look at her in that way no one else has ever looked at her, like she’s something incredible.
But she doesn’t get the chance, because Ian is already coming out of Mickey’s room, looking triumphant despite the bruise blooming on his check. The gun is tucked into his jeans and when he smiles at her, small and secret, she can’t help but return it even though her stomach is rolling unpleasantly as he leaves.
When Mickey comes out a little while later, freshly showered for once, she wants to ask why he gave the gun back, hopes maybe it was because she’d asked, but the words catch in her throat and she swallows them back.
**
It’s rare that so much of her family is out of prison at the same time, and tensions are running high in the Milkovich house. But Ian comes over to study more days than not and quickly becomes a steady presence amid the constant storm that is her life. She helps him with his English homework and in return he explains the boring history shit she doesn’t care about in a way that almost makes it halfway interesting.
As Lip gets busier with Karen, Mickey starts to take his place in their little group and, well, Mandy finds she doesn’t mind as much as she thought she might. It’s the most time she’d spent with her brother since her breasts came in and it’s almost fun beating his ass at video games with Ian egging her on.
In fact, Mickey and Ian seem to be friends or something, which is completely fucking weird. But then, Ian is so easy-going she figures it’s hard for anyone to hate him for long.
Things are going so well that when Ian tells her he’s seeing someone new she can’t help but feel a sharp pang in her chest. She’s glad that he’s losing interest in Kash, the fucker, but she’s gotten comfortable in their routine and doesn’t want some new boyfriend to mess it up.
But Ian looks so happy and shy that any annoyance she feels vanishes almost immediately. No amount of begging convinces him to tell her who it is either, which means it has to be juicy. She’s gone through half their class before she starts suspecting teachers (she knows for a fact that at least two are queer and six more are pervs) and she tries her hardest to quell the worry in her gut.
As it turns out, the new fuck-buddy doesn’t have a chance to screw anything up because it all goes to hell a few weeks later anyway. Ian’s mother comes crawling out of the crazy bitch woodwork to throw that whole family through a loop and Mickey, who apparently had not stopped harassing Kash, ends up getting himself shot and shipped straight back to juvie, and somewhere in the mess all mentions of the mystery man taper off.
“I can’t believe Kash actually had the balls,” Mandy declares when she arrives at the hospital.
“This is all your fault,” Mickey whines, which Mandy chalks up to the morphine.
“Actually it was your fault. A Snickers bar, really? You’re allergic to peanut butter, dumbass.”
“Grabbed your ass, what a load of bullshit,” Mickey mutters, and he is seriously failing to hold up his side of the conversational weight here, but Mandy supposes she should cut him some slack. He chafes against the restraints that keep him chained to the bed and Mandy pushes his arms back down, smoothing his sweaty hair against his forehead like Mom used to do.
It’s only when she’s crawling into bed that night that it occurs to her to wonder how Mickey knew she made the whole thing up.
When she finds Ian at school the next day he’s awkward and sheepish, one hand rubbing the back of his neck and looking at her with those puppy-dog eyes that scream sadness and guilt. She slaps him over the head and hugs him, with a quick “The fucker probably deserved it,” muttered in his ear. Ian smiles tentatively at her, and she grabs his hand in hers and walks them down the hallway to English.
She’ll miss Mickey’s random bout of non-assholery while he’s inside, but she can’t bring herself to complain that she’s got Ian back to herself again.
And Ian doesn’t even seem too torn up about the breakup, so she was worrying over nothing.
**
“So you’re not his son, but you are his nephew? That’s fucked up.”
Ian shrugs and passes the joint back to her. “Yep. Lip wants to try and track down Frank’s brothers. We’re going to visit Grammy up in prison to get their addresses.”
“Prison?”
“Killed two people in a meth explosion. You two would probably get along.”
She swats at his arm and nearly falls off the swing for her effort. “Fuck off. So what, you gonna find your real daddy and get out of the South Side?” She hopes he can’t hear the fear in her voice.
“I don’t know. I don’t really want to do it, but Lip…”
“Fuck Lip. Thinks he knows what’s best for everyone. He’s an asshole.”
“He’s my brother,” Ian says, a warning in his tone.
“Half-brother.”
“Yeah.” He looks so sad then, sitting on a half broken swing in the dimming sunlight. Suddenly all that shit about not being Frank’s son, thank god, sounds so fake and stupid that she leans forward and kisses him hard, one hand wrapped around the rusty chain, balancing on her tip toes in the sand.
He blinks a couple times when she pulls back, a slow smile spreading across his face. “What was that for?” he asks, bemused.
“Nothing.” It’s the truth and it’s a lie, and Mandy can never really tell which is which around him anyway. “Just felt like it.”
Ian’s gone for the next few days, off searching for Daddy Warbucks or whatever, and Mandy tries to pretend she’s not lonely without him. Tries not to think about what will happen if Ian’s real father turns out to be a good guy, and tries to feel guilty for hoping he isn’t.
She’s so wrapped up in herself she almost doesn’t hear some freshman talking about those Gallagher boys finally getting arrested.
“What the fuck were you thinking?” she shouts as she bursts into his room. Ian blinks owlishly at her from the bed, the blanket still half-obscuring his face.
“Mandy?” he asks, pushing himself into a sitting position. Lip stands in the doorway behind her, his hair wet from the shower.
“You stole a fucking car? What the fuck, Ian?”
“I didn’t steal it, I was just in it. And it’s fine, they’re not even pressing charges.” Ian grins at her guilelessly and she punches him as hard as she can in the arm before shoving past Lip to run out the door.
She’s not surprised that Ian follows her, now dressed and looking significantly more awake. He sits next to her on the curb and she wipes her cheeks.
“I’m sorry,” he says like he doesn’t quite know what he’s apologizing for. She doesn’t answer, but leans her head on his shoulder and for the first time, hates him. Hates him for doing this to her, for making himself essential to her and then nearly disappearing from her life twice in a week.
A while later Lip comes out and barks at Ian that he needs to get to work. Ian squeezes her shoulder and drops his head down to kiss her chastely on the lips.
Lip watches her as Ian leaves, looking at her like he knows her better than she does herself. “Don’t fuck with him,” she warns because she loves Ian, but she’d bet her left tit that if there’s a scheme involved, he probably isn’t the brains behind it.
Lip nods, and she vows that one day she’s going to slap that smirk right off his face.
**
That Valentine’s Day Ian gives her a flower and a teddy bear on their way to school. It’s not a rose and the stuffing is sticking out of the seams a bit, but she shows them off anyway and all her girlfriends are jealous. Apart from never wanting to have sex, Ian really is the perfect boyfriend
And even that’s not such a problem, since Ian isn’t getting any on his own these days. He and Kash seem to be completely over, and if she shares a triumphant smile with Lip when Ian tells them that it’s only because he was a perv and Ian deserves better.
Spring sneaks up on them, and soon they’re abandoning the couch and video games to walk hand in hand in the park or smoke under the El. Some days Ian whispers secrets, things he hasn’t told anyone, even Lip. He tells her that Frank hates him most because he reminds him of Monica and Mandy thinks of dark nights and the scent of alcohol on her dad’s breath when she says she understands.
He talks about West Point, and getting out of here once and for all, and Mandy swallows down her fear when she makes him an appointment with the guidance counselor, condescending asshole that he is, to get more information. It’s worth it for the blinding smile he gives her when she shoves the slip of paper at him and she lets herself wonder if maybe he’d take her with him when he goes.
It’s strange that for all getting out of the South Side is talked about, Ian is the first person she’s ever believed might do it.
It’s not that he’s better off than any of them; Lip’s certainly got the smarts and his sister’s got that rich boyfriend when he’s around, but Ian’s the only one who wants it bad enough. He dreams bigger than they do, and sometimes when it’s too hot to move she lays her head on his stomach and lets him dream for her too.
Even with all of Mandy’s tutoring he still doesn’t know what a direct object pronoun is, but Ian can weave stories in a way she can only remember her mom doing, when she was young and tucked tightly into bed. He talks about seeing the world, about sand under his toes and wind in her hair and never being tied down or beholden to anybody and for a little while, she lets herself get swept away in it like she’s still six years old and being promised a lifetime of castles and handsome princes.
She doesn’t tell anyone, but the thing that scares her most isn’t Ian leaving anymore. No, now she’s scared he’ll stay, and that one day he’ll stop dreaming so big and come down to earth like the rest of them. Ian has taken her further than anyone else even when they’re just lying in the dirt and yellowing grass behind the football field, and she never wants anyone to take that away from him, or from her.
“Where do you want to go?” he asks one day as the sun dips behind the trees.
A car backfires in the distance and she thinks of his wandering descriptions of Kabul, and of the pictures of Paris she’s seen in books, and of the trapped, claustrophobic look on her mother’s face in the only photo she’s got and says, “Everywhere.”
Ian grins, a little wild, and says, “I’ll take you there.”
So yeah, maybe she’s as stupid as Mickey always said, because she can’t help but believe him.