You And Me (Gallavich)

I Saved You (fuck off, casey)

Mickey straightened his back and ran his tongue over his teeth, sucking in a deep breath. With one single movement he sucker punched, what was it? Assbreath? In the face sending him to the ground in seconds. Mickey had a hand around the baseball bat before Jackass could swing and used it to hit the knife out of Twat's hand, then rammed the wood into Twat's knees, sending him next to the groaning mess on the floor. Jackass was last to the ground with the baseball bat right to his nose.

Mickey breathed harshly before kicking Assbreath in the stomach aggressively, then dropping the baseball bat on his curled up body. "Next time you pieces of shit decide to fuck with someone, choose somebody more your type. I'm Mickey fucking Milkovich, bitches. Do not try to fuck with me."

"Faggot," one of the boys, probably Assbreath, mumbled. Mickey felt a burning rage race through him. He ran both hands through his growing hair, pushing it back.

"That I am, boys," he replied, walking away. "That I am."

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Sometimes, people can go crazy when something they love is taken away from them.

Ian was now realizing this.

Whenever he thought of Kash, of the blood on his hands, of Maria helping him, he didn't feel guilt. He felt crazy. Who does something like that? He tried to convince himself that it was just the moment, just the situation he was in that forced him to murder Kash.
After all, Kash did try to take away the most important person in Ian's life.

Maybe Ian should see a doctor or something. Because ever since last night, after the wedding and Mickey declaring that they should both just be friends, Ian couldn't stop thinking about Mickey. It's nothing surprising really, since he always thinks of Mickey, but now he's literally the only thing on the red head's mind.

That's how Ian ended up here.

"So, how are you feeling, Ian?"

Ian looked up at Anthony, the group councilor. It was Ian's first day in group therapy and he wasn't regretting it yet, but he also wasn't enjoying it. Being put on the spot, sharing thoughts- he can barely do that with his own siblings.

"I feel OK," Ian replied nonetheless. "For the most part."

"Is there something bothering you? Something that you'd like to talk about and share?"

"Just a breakup, really," Ian mumbled, fidgeting slightly. "I fucked up and lost everything."

Anthony cocked his head. Everybody stared at Ian. "How did you mess up?"

Ian's mouth was dry. "I, um... took off. Ran away. Disappeared for too long. By the time I got back, he was over it. Over me. I can tell he doesn't feel what I still feel anymore. But I can also tell he's fighting off any feelings he has left for me."

"How can you be so sure?"

"It's his eyes, they've always said everything his mouth couldn't. Everytime I needed an answer I would just look in his eyes. They never failed to express his emotions."

"And what exactly do you see in his eyes when you're around him?"

Ian thought for a moment, eyes on the ground. "Guilt. Regret. Sadness. I can see that he craves a love he feels doesn't exist with me. I wish I knew how to tell him that it does."

"You could just tell him," another person suggested. "You could convince him."

"I can tell that when I left I took all his love and sympathy with me. He said he's done better without me. I feel as if I'm holding him off from better things. Do you know what I mean?"