The room was silent beside the quietly beeping machines that were linked to Mickey. It was a certain kind of silence, a kind that made him want to flee because it conveyed the feeling of pure despair. Mickey was laying in the bed staring out of the window. Ian stepped closer. Slowly, afraid, fucking scared of what he would see. What look would be on Mickey's face. And then Mickey turned his head and their eyes met.
Four years since he had seen these eyes. Four years since his heart had been pounding so hard. Four fucking years since he had felt so alive.
"Hey, Mick."
"Get the fuck out."
"Let me just..."
"GET OUT!"
"Please, Mick..."
"Leave me the fuck alone!"
He knew he deserved that. But that didn't make it hurt less.
He visited every afternoon after he was done with his shift and went into his room. Talked to him, apologized, explained, told him about his family, about Yev, asked about him. Mickey never responded. Never said a word which drove him fucking crazy because he had expected everything except silence. Silence meant hatred and Ian was sure Mickey hated him, but there was a small part of him, that was still hoping. That part made him come back every fucking day.
And one day, Mickey replied.
"Hey."
"Hey." Mickey's voice was raspy and quiet. Hurt.
"I'm sorry. I'm fucking sorry." Ian said for what felt like the millionth time during the last three days.
"What for?" Now he sounded depreciative.
"For leaving." Ian answered, "For not getting my shit together, for listening to my mom, for lying to you, for being a giant piece of trash, for wallowing in self-pity." He paused. " I just wanted to tell you that."
"That all?"
"Yeah."
"So you gonna leave now?"
"No." He sat down on the bed. "No, I'm not gonna leave." Ian reached for his hand but he flinched. He tried again, grabbed Mickey's hand tightly. Refused to let him take it away.
Neither of them spoke, they just sat there in silence. Ian felt how the atmosphere in the room slowly changed from desperate to hopeful. He leaned closer to Mickey. Their foreheads touched and they stayed in this position, eyes closed, breathing in each others smells. Mickey smelled like sweat and hospital but also a hint of cigarettes, obviously he wasn't allowed to smoke in here, and something that was just Mickey.
"I love you." Ian whispered. And then he kissed him.
At first Ian thought Mickey would turn his head away, yell at him or punch him. But he didn't.
Ian cupped the back of Mickey's neck, his other hand interwining their fingers, holding them tightly. And then Mickey kissed him back. It was slow and hesitant, scared. Ian wanted to reassure him, show him that it was okay that he would never leave again. He tried to put this message into the kiss, put all his feelings in. Because he needed Mickey. God he needed him so much.
He didn't know how much time had passed when they let go of each other. It could be minutes. Or hours. It didn't matter.
"You really wanna fuck this? A fucking cripple?" Mickey's voice was dry. He didn't look at Ian, stared to the ceiling instead.
"You really think I give a shit about the wheelchair?"
He didn't respond, just kept glaring at the ceiling. Ian felt a sting in his heart. Mickey looked so weak, eaten away by self-hatred, broken. Ian leaned closer to him again and wrapped both his hands around his head forcing him to look at him. "Mick I love you. I don't know why it took me so goddam long to say it but I love you. You remember what you said to me when I came back from my trip with Monica? 'Thick and thin, good times bad, sickness health all that shit.' You stayed with me despite my bipolar, although I was being a complete asshole. You stayed. And I left. And I'm so fucking sorry because you were right. You are right. I don't care that you can't walk. To be honest I think we're both pretty fucked up even without our diagnoses." As he said the last sentence Mickey smiled a little. He actually smiled. Ian's felt tears of relief burning in his eyes and his vision became blurry.
--
Ian came every day after work and stayed until she kicked him out. Mickey slowly got better. The wounds in his torso were healing, his weight getting back to normal, he participated in his treatment, let the nurses wash him, his language sounding more and more like his siblings' if not worse, and he finally even agreed to see the fucking shrink, as he called Dr. Newman. She had made an appointment for the next day.
She knew the credit for those improvements was due to Ian, although she didn't know why. But she was going to find out.
"Ian would you come to my office for a second?" She said when visiting hours were over and she had to make him leave Mickey's side. He had asked her to call him 'Ian' the second day he visited.
"Yeah, why?" He asked back, a confused look on his face but followed her anyway.
"I want to talk to you about Mickey's state." She explained when they were seated in her office.
"Okay? I thought you already told us everything about his injuries." He replied and ran a hand through his hair.
"I mean about his mental state."
His gaze hardened.
"Tomorrow he is going to meet Dr. Newman in order to see how he's dealing with his situation."
"Well, you will know then, won't you? Why the need to talk to me?" He said, leaning back as he wanted to defend himself.
"Yes, but I won't exactly know what he will say. That's going to be between him and Dr. Newman."
"Because it's none of your business."
"That's not true. He didn't let anybody near him for more than a week, only talked to his sister and his brother..."
"Because they were the only visitors."
"Besides your brother."
"Who was here once."
She sighed. "Yes, but he started opening up when you came here."
"Not exactly."
"Well, okay a while after you came here." She admitted, "But the point is, he opened up to you. And I think it wasn't a matter of time but of the right person to come."
He didn't respond.
"I asked Mandy if there were any other people who could be there for him, before she left and she said no, there isn't anyone." She paused. "And she told me he has a son."
Ian's face lit up, the second she said that. "Yevgeny."
"Do you know anything about him? Where he lives? If he knows about his father?"
"Why?"
"Maybe he would want to see him."
Ian hesitated, tapping his foot on the floor, before he said: "Yes, I know where he lives. I also know that Kev wants to take him for a visit here soon."
"Kev?"
"His stepdad. Yev lives with his mom, and her two spouses plus their daughters. Or well, lived since Svetlana got deported and left Yev here so he doesn't end up in the country she fled from."
Okay, that was interesting.
"Does Mickey see his son regularly?"
"No, since he was in prison for the past four years and his ex-wife didn't really give a shit. Not that you could really blame her."
"But does Mickey have a place to live when he can leave the hospital? I mean his siblings said that he lives in a house but I'm not sure..."
"Yeah, they have a house."
"But Mandy doesn't live there anymore, does she? Does Iggy live there?"
"No and not exactly sure, why?"
"Because he needs someone to take care of him. Someone who's there all the time."
Ian nodded. "I am."
She hesitated before she spoke again. "Okay... did Mandy inform you about the required changes of the place he will live in?"
"Yes, there's a guy coming to measure out the porch and the bathroom."
She remained silent for a moment until he stood up and headed towards the door while asking: "Are we done?"
"Actually..." She stopped, shifting uncomfortably in her chair, "I have to ask you if you are certain in your decision to take care of him. It's not only a matter of your willingness but also of ability."
"What's that supposed to mean?" He asked, glaring at her with an angry look on his face, "Are you saying that I'm not capable to help? Because I'm bipolar?"
She quickly shook her head. "No, no, no. I mean that I can organize someone who would help you. A professional who knows exactly how to handle things. I don't know if you realize that but he'll need help in all different kinds of situations."
"I'm aware of that."
"Are you also aware of the fact that you won't have much time for your own life? Look, it's not a crime to ask for help so if you need anything... just let me know, please."
"Yeah." He assured but she could see that he wasn't planning on doing it. She was surprised how sure Ian seemed with his decision. They must be really good friends. She wondered what had happened between them so Ian had shown up so late. But the point was he had.
"Well, then we are done now." She said and stood up.
"See you tomorrow." Was his answer as he wentthrough the door.