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“This movie fucking sucks,” Mickey complained. “You couldn’t have picked something better, Raggedy Ann?”
“It doesn’t suck,” Debbie said while Carl voiced his agreement with Mickey. “It’s a classic.”
“It’s shit,” he said flatly.
“Well, if you wanted something different, you should’ve said so instead of saying I don’t know every time I asked,” Debbie huffed.
“Like you would’ve listened,” Carl muttered, who’d made his displeasure for the film loud and clear.
“Oh, shut up, Carl! Like your idea was any better.”
Mickey propped his feet on the coffee table, needing to change the position of his legs.
“Fiona hates it when you do that,” Carl informed him.
“Not my fucking problem,” Mickey replied, though they all knew he’d lower them back down to the floor once she stopped screaming at Sammi in the other room.
The woman was getting her ass handed to her after a remark she’d made regarding Ian. Fiona had come home and flipped her shit after Debbie told her what Sammi had said when they were clearing up the dinner table.
“Ian, did you take your meds?”
The kitchen was quiet besides the sounds Liam made. Ian was in the midst of wiping down his brother’s shirt, and no one knew if he was ignoring the question or simply hadn’t heard.
“Why are you asking?” Debbie said snidely.
Mickey had to force himself to stay calm. He bit down on his tongue, focusing all his attention on the soft smile Ian wore, while Liam giggled about the “oopsie” he’d made.
“I just don’t want to see him have another one of his crazy episodes,” Sammi said matter-of-factly.
And that was when Mickey saw red.
“The fuck did you just say?” He snarled, coming over into her space.
Debbie and Carl rushed to his side to stop him from doing something he’d regret.
Probably not regret, but he got the point.
“Ian’s not crazy,” Mickey said through grit teeth.
“I didn’t say he was-”
“Shut up, Sammi!” Debbie snapped.
Mickey had wanted to say fuck it and take Ian out for a while but even though this was one of Ian’s better days, it was probably for the best to stay here.
It was Debbie’s idea to watch a movie. So that’s what they did, piling into the living room for some shitty early 2000s film that she chose.
The TV had to be turned up several times. Sammi tried to defend herself but Fiona was not having it. That’s what he liked about the oldest Gallagher; she didn’t take anyone’s shit.
Ian’s head laid on his shoulder. Mickey still struggled with openly showing his boyfriend affection in front of others, even though he came to realize that none of the Gallaghers cared about his sexuality, so this time he’d tentatively wrapped his other arm around Ian, pulling him in closer.
He glanced in the direction of the kitchen where it was still going on. “Jesus,” he muttered. He was starting to get a headache. He couldn’t even tell if Ian was really paying attention to the TV or not. “Ay, Gallagher?”
“What?” Ian mumbled.
“You doing okay?” Mickey said softly.
“I’m fine,” Ian sounded tired.
“You sure? We can go upstairs if you want. Unless you want to watch this pink shit.” Debbie spared him a glare for his remark.
Ian smiled very slightly. “We can go upstairs.”
“Fine by me,” Mickey waited until Ian peeled himself off of him to stand. “We’re going to bed. Tell me if anything good happens.”
Debbie opened her mouth and he knew what was going to come out.
“With your bitch of a sister, not the damn movie.”
The younger Gallagher’s snickered. Mickey flipped them both off, trying to suppress a smile of his own.
“Let’s go, Red,” Mickey spotted him yawning into his forearm.
“Kay,” Ian muttered sleepily.
They went up the stairs towards the boys room. Before they went in, he’d clasped a hand on Ian’s shoulder. Now that they were alone, he felt compelled to reassure his boyfriend, needed him to know that Sammi didn’t know what the fuck she was talking about.
“Ian,” he said, pausing to consider what he was about to say. “Sammi’s a bitch. You ain’t crazy. You know that, right?”
Those eyes of Ian’s that used to hold so much light were dull now, tired. He mustered up a tiny smile that Mickey wanted to believe was genuine. “Yeah.”
“I’m serious, man. She doesn’t know shit.”
Mickey’s arms looped around Ian for a hug, whose face was leaning on his shoulder.
He’d never tell anyone but it broke his goddamn heart to see Ian like this.
“Let’s go lay down,” Mickey whispered, even though there was no need to. “Kay?”
Ian nodded without a word. He let Mickey guide him in there, sitting down on the edge of the bed, his face still blank. Mickey opened the drawers, taking out a pair of sweatpants for his boyfriend to change into.
“You been wearin’ those for two days now. Let’s get these on you.”
“I just want to lay down, Mick,” Ian said quietly.
“Then let me put ‘em on you.”
“I don’t need you to play nurse for me,” Ian wasn’t looking at him anymore, his eyes fell to the floor. But this wasn’t out of annoyance like he sometimes felt whenever he thought Mickey or somebody else was nagging him, but rather shame .
And well, fuck, Mickey could understand that. He wouldn’t want anyone to treat him like this either.
“Hey,” he placed two fingers under Ian’s chin, gently pulling his face up. “Look, I know this ain’t easy for you, relying on people and shit; but I’m doing this because I want to, alright?”
Ian snorted, quietly and deprecatingly. “You didn’t sign up for this. You should go, find someone who isn’t so fucked up in the head.”
Mickey’s stomach lurched at the out Ian was giving him. He was too far gone now, and there was no way in hell he was leaving. “Shut the fuck up,” he bent down to kiss Ian’s hair. “You were fucked up in the head long before any of this bipolar shit started.”
This drew out a more genuine laugh from Ian, however slight it might have been.
“And don’t try to give me anymore damn outs, Gallagher. I ain’t going anywhere, alright?” I’m already in this.
Ian’s face had fallen again. “Mickey-”
“You want me to go?” He said, coming off as casual despite the way his heart hammered in his chest. I can’t lose you.
Ian lifted his head, meeting Mickey’s eyes. “No,” he admitted. “But you shouldn’t have to stay with someone like me.”
“There ain’t no should , Red,” Mickey needed him to understand this. “I’m stayin’ cause I want to.”
I fuckin’ love you
Fucking terrified him how much he meant it. As much as he used to deny it, pretending he and Ian weren’t anything more than fuck buddies, it was impossible to do that anymore.
“You-” Mickey’s voice got thick, “you gotta know that, Ian.”
He just sat there looking lost, not saying anything for the longest time.
“Okay.”
It was barely above a whisper. His face was so blank, yet so expressive all at the same time. But what mattered the most was how much he seemed like he wanted to believe Mickey meant what he said. If it had to take time for him to realize that then so be it.
“Okay,” Mickey repeated, a smile emerging. “Think you can get into these pants, Red, or you want help?”
“Help me.” It was a lot for Ian to say, Mickey was damn proud of him.
“Alright.”
The process was slow but Mickey didn’t push him anymore than necessary. Within a minute or two, Ian was in some fresh clothes, now laying on the bed, eyes shut but merely resting.
Mickey climbed in there too, brushing a few pieces of Ian’s hair out of his face.
Go to sleep, he thought, watching Ian’s chest rise and fall in spite of the chaos going on downstairs. You don’t need to hear anymore of that shit show.
For a couple of minutes, or it might have been longer, it was just the two of them in their own little world. Ian fell asleep, his head rolled over into Mickey’s space.
With one hand on Ian’s cheek, he softly kissed the redhead’s forehead.
Laying here was starting to make him sleepy, so Mickey let himself get comfortable, soon to be lulled to sleep by the warmth and unique smell of Ian radiating towards him. Except just when he was on the verge of nodding off, he felt a small hand shaking his arm.
It was the littlest Gallagher. A blanket was over his head, with only his face peeking out of it. His big brown eyes were wide, not that he could blame him with all the ruckus going on.
“Ay, kid,” Mickey carefully sat up so he wouldn’t jostle Ian and wake him up. “What are you doing in here?”
“I’m scared,” Liam whispered. “I want Ian.”
Well shit . Mickey glanced at his boyfriend, then back at the kid. He wasn’t really equipped to handle kid things . Wasn’t like he had much experience with his own kid. Ian did more of that than he ever did. He’d try, though. Liam was pretty easy going, hardly ever cried and shit. It was better for Ian to sleep, he probably wasn’t much up for being his brother’s comforter anyway.
“Let’s go over there,” Mickey pointed at Carl’s empty bed. He laid a hand on the kid’s back, gently easing him over there. Sitting down with his back against the wall, he intended for the kid to be beside him but Liam had other plans. He crawled into Mickey’s lap, gripping his shirt with tiny fists.
It threw him off at first, just for a second or two. He quickly recovered, focusing his attention on the four year old who was currently staring up at him like Mickey could stop all the yelling from happening.
Something shattered down below. Probably a plate or something, he guessed. Liam jumped, whimpering.
This is probably the part where he should comfort him.
“Uh,” Mickey said awkwardly, tentatively patting him on the back, “it’s okay, Liam. You’re good.”
Eh, not good . Kid was shaking a bit. Fuck.
Liam's face was in his chest now, seeking comfort that Mickey didn’t know if he could give.
Shit , Mickey thought.
He remembered back before all the bipolar shit took over, there’d been one night Yev was screaming his head off. Ian got out of bed to take care of him and didn’t come back for some time. At some point, it stopped, but Ian still hadn’t come back to bed so by than, Mickey slid out and went to find him.
Ian was standing, holding Yev in his arms, murmuring to him, a hand rubbing up and down his back.
Maybe he could channel some of that for Liam.
“Ay, Liam,” he whispered, and the kid peeked up at him, still holding onto Mickey with a death grip around his middle, “it’s okay.”
“Fi’s mad,” Liam’s eyes were watery.
“Yeah,” he conceded, “but she ain’t mad at you. Your sister’s just trying to defend Ian from that crazy bitch.”
For obvious reasons, Liam couldn’t care less about that part. He sniffled, pressing himself into Mickey more if that was possible. “I don’t like it when she’s mad.”
For a moment, he didn’t see Little Gallagher anymore but rather himself .
This whole thing made him remember, all too vividly, of his own childhood when he used to hide under the covers to block out the noise of Terry and Laura screaming at each other. Beer bottles crashing into the wall, furniture turned over, doors slammed shut. Unlike Liam, he never had anyone to make it all better. If he wouldn't have gotten teased by his brothers for being a pussy, Mickey would’ve went to them for comfort. But in the Milkovich household, you didn’t do things like that, even if you were a literal child .
“Yeah...” He muttered. “I get it.”
He hoped Liam was starting to settle down by now, that hope was thwarted when a heavy crash was heard from down there. It was so loud, so sudden, that even Mickey flinched. It definitely frightened Liam; he started to cry a little and the last thing Mickey wanted was for Ian to wake up from all this noise. But by some miracle, Ian stayed asleep, not even stirring.
Mickey still didn’t know what the fuck he was doing, so he adjusted them both, letting Liam lean one side of his face against his chest so he could cover his other ear with his hand to muffle out all the noise coming up there.
Well, it must not have been that much of a shitty idea. Liam, though still somewhat tense, relaxed a bit now that he wasn’t listening to anymore screaming. Mickey didn’t hear him sniffling either so it was a fucking win as far as he was concerned.
Liam yawned softly. Must have been past the kid’s bedtime. With any luck he’d go to sleep.
“Go to sleep, Kid,” Mickey muttered, not knowing if Liam heard him or not. “I got ya.”
He didn’t know how long it was, his phone was elsewhere, probably downstairs still, but eventually Liam was slumped against him, sound asleep.
And it was okay . He’d never had much experience with little kids before him, before Yev, so had this been months prior, he never would’ve believed himself to be capable of being here in this moment comforting him.
At some point, his eyelids fluttered shut. He didn’t stir until he felt Liam being carefully taken out of his arms.
“Wha-”
Fiona hovered above him, adjusting a sleepy Liam in her arms. “Hey,” she whispered. “Sammi’s gone. I went to check on Liam and found him here. Was he okay?”
Mickey rubbed his face, trying to wake himself up. “Yeah,” he said, biting back a yawn. “He was kinda scared but he’s alright.”
Fiona smiled at Liam. “Did Mickey make you feel better?”
Liam nodded, smiling shyly at him before turning to bury his face in her neck.
Mickey couldn’t help but flush.
“Thanks,” she told him with a warm smile. “Really appreciate you doin’ that.”
“Eh, it was nothing.”
“You’re a good guy, Mickey,” she said with a fleeting glance at Ian. “He doing okay?”
“He’s gettin’ there. Didn’t wake up once.”
“That’s good,” she let out a breath. “We’re gonna need some new dishes. Sammi destroyed quite a few of them.”
“Fucking lunatic.”
“You’re telling me,” Fiona rolled her eyes, then said to Liam. “Time for bed, Buddy. Tell Mickey goodnight.”
He didn’t do that, however, but he did extend his arms towards him.
“Wanna hug,” he said.
This surprised Mickey, but he didn't have time to dwell on that. Fiona disposed of the kid into his lap so Liam could throw his arms around his neck. Mickey reciprocated, feeling self conscious now that she was watching them.
“Night, Mickey,” Liam whispered.
“Uh, night, Kid.”
The light that came into the room was abruptly taken away by the shut door. Mickey sat there, taking in what just happened, a warmth pooling in his stomach that filled him completely.
“Mmm, Mickey?” A soft groan was heard from the other side of the room.
Ian was only half awake, turning over and expecting him to be right there next to him.
Mickey slid off Carl’s bed to go back to Ian’s, curling into his side. “Ay, go back to sleep, Red,” he said, a fond smile tugging at his lips. “I’m here. Not gonna leave you.”