Mickey had ended up spending the night at Ian's the day before. He forced Ian to let him sleep on the floor, rather than the bed, but Mickey was starting to regret that decision greatly as he rubbed the knot in his neck.
He let out a small sigh and pushes open the door to his house. It was quiet inside. Mickey didn't see his brothers watching tv, or his dad on the couch. Mickey figured he had the whole place to himself for the afternoon so he kicked his shoes off and shut the door behind him.
Down the hall he heard a small clank like something had fallen onto the bathroom tile. Mickey rose his eyebrows at that and slowly crept his way over there. He pushed his bedroom door open and his eyes widened at the sight.
In the bathroom was his sister. Her face was full of fresh blood and it had started to drip down onto her shirt as well. Her left eye was swollen shut and Mickey noticed that her shirt was stretched out on the top as if someone was tugging to get it off and her jeans were unbuttoned.
Mickey immediately saw blood red. His face heated up and his fists clenched at his sides. "Was it dad?" He asks jaw clenched.
Mandy lowered the bloodied rag from her face and shakes her head. "Mickey no I-"
"Don't make up a bullshit lie, Mandy. I'm not dumb. I know dad has raped you before this and he probably did it again," he says, rubbing a shaky hand through his hair. "I'm going to kill him... I swear to god I'm going to fucking murder him!" Mickey turns quickly and marches back into his room and over to his dresser. He tugs open the drawer so aggressively that it completely comes out and lands with a thud on the ground. He cursed quietly and picks it back up, setting it on his bed.
"Mick, what are you doing?" Mandy asks nervously, hurrying over to her brother.
"I told you, I'm going to kill dad." He digs around in his drawer, pushing away a few knives and empty cigarette boxes before pulling out a small handgun. He checks to make sure it's loaded before tugging it into the waistband of his jeans.
"Mickey please don't," Mandy begs, lip trembling. "Mick you're gonna get caught and then what? Even if you do kill dad you'll still be in prison for life."
"I don't give a shit anymore. I'm sick of him doing this shit all the goddamn time," he says. Mandy immediately breaks down. Tears slip from her eyes and roll down in pink drops as they mix with the blood.
"Don't. Please don't do it," she begs. In a desperate attempt to stop her brother, Mandy throws herself on him. She pulls him into a tight hug and presses her face to his chest.
Mickey stiffens in the hug. He doesn't hug her back, but after a moment he relaxes a bit in her arms. "I just... he can't keep doing this to you... to us." He gently pries Mandy off of her and shrugs his jacket on. "He's probably at the alibi. I'm gonna go talk to him."
Mandy shakes her head. "Please don't, Mick. You're going to end up shooting him and then you're gonna go to prison."
Mickey let's out a frustrated groan and tosses the gun onto his bed. "Fine, I won't take the fucking gun. But I'm still going down there to talk to him."
Mandy opens her mouth before closing it again and nods. "Just be safe, please. I don't want him hurting you too," she says, wiping tears from her eyes.
Mickey nods, rubbing the back of his neck. "I will. I'll be fine, Mandy. Just stay here and clean yourself up. I'll be back later," he mumbles. Mickey walks toward the front door and leaves the house.
His jaw was still set and he felt his whole body rush with adrenaline. Mickey wanted nothing more than to hit Terry hard in the face. He wanted to smash his tatted knuckles into the man's face over and over again until Terry was knocked down. He wanted him to feel the same way he did. Mickey wanted his dad to feel that same numbing fear he felt every time his dad rose his voice. He wanted him to bleed at the hands of his own son and he wanted everyone at the bar to watch. Mickey wanted to prove to everyone that Terry wasn't as big and bad as he seemed. But he mostly wanted to prove it to himself. He wanted to see the real Terry who was nothing more than a pathetic, drug-addicted deadbeat.
Mickey got to the alibi and pushes the door open. He scans the room and sees Terry at a stool with a couple of his buddies. He was chuckling loudly while downing what Mickey figured was his tenth beer. He made his way toward his father and as he did he could feel his anxiety rushing back in. He could feel the familiar fear overtaking his body, but this time he wasn't going to give into it. He was going to stand up for himself and his sister and he was going to kick the shit out of Terry.
Terry saw his son approaching when he was a few feet away. He gave him a confused look before tipping back the rest of his beer. "The fuck are you doing here, Mick?" He mumbles.
"Get up," Mickey says in a firm voice.
Terry chuckles. "What?"
"I saw what you did to Mandy you sick fuck! Now get the hell out of the chair and fight me like a real man and not the fucking piece of shit coward you are!" He screams. Mickeys words were enough to make everything else in the bar freeze, including Kev and V who were behind the counter.
Terry stands up so abruptly, that the chair he was sitting on clatters to the ground. He grabs his son by the throat and slams him back up against the wall. "Why don't you get the hell out of here before I kick your ass in front of everyone," Terry spits.
Mickey's eyes narrow and he kicks his leg out, connecting with Terry's crotch. He bends over and groans in pain. Mickey then winds his fist back and gets a hard punch in on Terry's lip. The older man's head snaps back as blood dribbles down his chin. "You fucker!" He yells angrily. He charges after his son and grabs him by the front of his shirt and slamming his fist into Mickey's face.
Before the fight could escalate any further, Kev was making his way over towards the two. He shoves Terry off of Mickey. "Enough! Terry, get the hell out of my bar before I call the cops on you!" He yells angrily.
Terry shoots him a look before looking towards Mickey and pointing. "You're dead when you get home," he says before shoving past everyone and leaving.
Kev sighs and looks back towards Mickey. "You good?" He asks, placing a hand on his shoulder.
Mickey shrugs his hand away and nods. He rubs his fingers gently over his bruised neck. "I'm good. Just should have brought my fucking gun," he scoffs. Before Kev could say anything else, Mickey walked away and out of the bar.
He kept his head down as he headed down the sidewalk. His feet started to dampen as he stepped in the slushed up snow that was running down the streets and into the sewers. Mickey felt his eyes water up but he quickly rubbed them before any tears could fall.
Mickey was terrified of going home, knowing Terry was already on his way there. So instead he sends a text to Mandy, letting her know he wasn't going home and shoved his phone back away. He huffs out a small sigh and glances forward down the street.
He wasn't sure which way he wanted to go. He could either go home and deal with a serious beating from Terry. Or he could go to Ian's and risk his family finding out about their secret.
At this point, Mickey was so tired. Tired of the violence and the yelling and the feeling of not being enough. Now he just wanted a break from it all and he knew he could get that at Ian's. So that's where he went. His legs guided him with no thought to it, taking him to the younger boy's house.
By the time the melted snow had soaked through his boots completely, Mickey had made it to the Gallagher's house. He climbed the steps to the small house and knocked on the door. He stood there with his head down and hands in his pockets until he heard the front door creak open.
Mickey looked up and was met with Lip looking back at him. "Yo, your brother home?" Mickey asks, swiping his thumb against his bottom lip.
Lip nods a bit, eyes flickering down to the finger-shaped bruises on Mickey's neck. "Yeah, he's up in his room," he says, moving to the side. Mickey gives him a nod and walks inside, kicking his shoes off.
He then glances up towards Lip. "Hey, man.. You, uh, think you could do me a favor?" He mumbles, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Yeah, what's up?" He asks.
"I think Mandy's still at home... You think you could go and check in on her?" He asks, rubbing the back of his neck.
Lip nods. "Yeah, Yeah, of course, I can. I'll head over there now."
Mickey nods and shrugs his coat off. "Thanks," he says, shoving past Lip and heading up the stairs. He walks down the hallway and steps into Ian's room.
He was the only one in there, the other three beds unoccupied while Ian was sprawled our on his, scribbling something down in his notebook. "Hey," Mickey says quietly. Ian immediately whips his head around, facing Mickey with wide eyes.
"You scared me," he says, closing his notebook and tossing it to the ground.
Mickey chuckles and shuts the door behind him. "Didn't mean to. You're just a pussy," he teases. He flashes Ian a tired smile and walks over to the bed, flopping down on the end of it. "Saw Lip downstairs and Frank at the alibi, where the hell is everyone else?"
"Fiona is out with her newest boy toy, Carl is god know's where and Debbie is currently playing dress up in her room with poor Liam who is probably being forced into a dress as we speak." Ian rolls over as he speaks and rests his head on his elbows so he was closer to Mickey. He frowns a bit and reaches a hand out. The younger boy gently traces his fingers over the bruises on his boyfriend's neck. "Mick..."
Mickey shivers under the touch and gently pushes Ian's hand to the side. "Just... don't," he says.
Ian looks up at his eyes and away from the darkened marks. "Don't what?"
"Don't ask questions. We both know what happened and I don't wanna fucking talk about it," he grumbles. "Seems like that's all I ever talk about."
Ian nods. As much as he wanted to know what had led up to the moment when those bruises were placed on Mickey's neck, Ian knew who had done it. And he knew Mickey didn't want to talk about it and he would respect that. The last thing he wanted was to anger Mickey when he had come to him for comfort. "Okay. We don't have to talk about that. Or anything if you don't want to. We could just lay here," Ian offers.
Mickey tilts his head to the side and faces Ian. Laying here with Ian, Mickey forgot how tired he truly was. Sure his body still hurt and he wanted nothing more than to just sleep, but he forgot about how tired his mind was. He forgot about the fear of going home and everything shitty in his life.
"Wanna hear something cool," Ian says.
Mickey nods.
"I came out to Fi," he says, grinning widely and Mickey couldn't help but grin as well.
"No shit?"
Ian shakes his head. "No shit. I mean she told me she already knew and everything, but she didn't care at all. Felt so damn good."
Mickey nods and closes his eyes. "You wanna know something?" He mumbles. Ian nods. "Sometimes I wish, mom was still around. As far as I can remember she was nice. Sure she was a fucking addicted who chose drugs over her kids sometimes, but she never was as bad as Terry," he says. He kept his eyes closed as he spoke, thinking about his mom. He pictured her bright blue eyes in his mind along with her black hair and bright smile. Mickey missed that smile.
"I know Mandy told me she died when you guys were younger, but what happened?" Ian asked curiously.
"She od'd. I remember that day still, too. I was in second grade and Mandy was in kindergarten. She was out with my uncle or some shit so I was the first one home. Walked inside and I remember seeing her on that damn couch. Couldn't get her to open her eyes or move or do fucking anything," he says. He smiled as he told the story but only to hide the tears that welled up in his eyes. "Didn't know what to fucking do or who the call so I just sat with her till my brothers got home. I kept hoping she'd wake up before they came home, but she never did."
"I'm so sorry, Mick. I know my mom can be a shit mom at times but I can't even imagine that," he says. Mickey nods as he rubs at his eyes. Ian cups the side of Mickey's face and leans in. He presses his lips gently against Mickey's and lets his eyes slip shut.
Mickey immediately kisses back, eager to feel Ian's touch. He wished they were truly alone, that no one else was in the house. But he knew that wasn't the case and he would have to settle for a simple kiss on the lips and nothing more.
He pulls away after a few minutes and licks his lips. "Think I could spend the night again?"
Ian nods. "Course you can. You don't even have to ask. Except this time I'm making you take the bed."
Sooo I'm considering coming back to this account instead? But I'm not sure.