Does It Hurt When You Breathe?
Gallickey
Sequel to Problem With Authority.
I am making no profit from this, it is written purely for entertainment.

Mickey had been back in Chicago for two weeks; two fucking weeks that felt like hell on earth. Mickey hated being back in Chicago. He tried to avoid everyone but it was hard; he had to return to south-side.

The first person who saw him back in Chicago was fucking Lip Gallagher. Lip asked where Ian was; Mickey just said not here and walked away. Lip was yelling at Mickey but Mick wasn't listening.

Mickey found an apartment, it was a shitty little one bedroom. The building looked like it was about to fall apart. It wasn't that Mickey couldn't afford anything nicer, he just didn't want anything nicer. He wanted something familiar.

The walls were a dingy off-white color; Mickey guessed they were smoke stained. The apartment was already furnished. The couch was pretty much broken, the springs were nearly sticking through. The bed was uncomfortable, but Mickey didn't really think any bed was comfortable; not without Ian in it. Mickey could have bought new furniture but why waste money when he already had some? Even if it was shittier than the stuff at the Milkovich house.

Two days after he got the apartment he wrote a letter to Ian; he told the kid that he had an apartment, and that he was doing fine. He ended the letter simply, don't get your ass shot off. He sent it the next day.

It took awhile for Mickey to get a letter back from Ian; but when he did it was five pages long. Mickey wondered how the kid fit all the paper into one envelope.

The kid went on and on about how much he wished Mickey was still with him. Ian wrote about how he couldn't wait to see Mickey's apartment; Mickey didn't really like the fact that Ian called it his apartment. Mick wouldn't admit it out loud, he thought of the apartment as his andIan's.

Mickey wrote a letter back this time it was a bit longer. As time when by the length of Mickey's letters increased; Ian's seemed to get shorter.

After three months of living in seclusion, Mickey decided it was time to go see Mandy. As he stood outside the house and knocked on the door he hoped that she was alone; she wasn't, Lip was with her.

"About fucking time you showed your face around here fuck-head. Lip told me he saw you like three months ago." She hit him in the back of his head, right where the stitches had been a few months earlier.

"Shut the fuck up bitch. Why the fuck's he here?" Mandy sat on the couch next to Lip.

"You'd know why if you'd actually come to see her." Lip was getting cocky.

"Did I fucking ask you?" Mickey was regretting coming to see his sister.

"He's my fucking boyfriend, 'cuz ya know you stole my old one." Mickey snorted.

"So where is he?" Of course Mandy wanted to know where Ian was, why wouldn't she? He was her best friend.

"No clue." That was a lie, a very big lie. Mickey knew exactly where Ian was; he wished he was still with him.

"Don't fucking lie. I know you are in the same unit as him. So why are you here and he isn't?" Mickey shrugged and ignored Lip.

"Just fucking tell me Mick. Did something happen to him?" Mandy sounded scared.

"Nope, not a fucking thing happened to him. And we were in the same unit; I was discharged." Mandy's eyes widened.

"Why'd they kick you out?" Mickey shook his head.

"They didn't." She looked confused.

"Then wha'?" She was interrupted by Lip.

"You got hurt." Mickey knew it wasn't a question, it was a statement.

Mickey nodded slightly, if Mandy and Lip hadn't been staring intently at him they wouldn't have noticed. Lip looked a bit suprised; Mandy looked like she was going to cry, but Mick knew she wouldn't.

"What happened?" Lip spoke first.

"I got shot. I cracked my skull. Was in a coma for like two weeks." Lip just stared at him.

"WHERE WERE YOU SHOT AT?" Mandy was yelling, over-reacting. Mickey laughed.

"Stomach. And bitch you gotta stop yellin'. It ain't like I haven't been shot before." Mickey looked at her like she was stupid.

"Ian's okay though right?" Mickey rolled his eyes.

"I already fucking answered that. He wasn't even any where near me when it happened. He's the one that found me after it happened." Mickey hated admitting that he needed to be found, but he knew that if he hadn't said it they would have asked.

"Really? Are you okay now?" Mandy sounded worried.

"Obviously." Mickey really wanted to get out of there. It was getting uncomfortable. Mickey felt like he was suffocating. He stood up and headed toward the door.

"Where are you going? Are you coming back?" Mandy was talking; Lip was silent; Mickey was focused on getting the fuck out, as fast as possible.

"Bitch I don't need to tell you where I'm going. You'll see me again sometime." He didn't specify when because he really didn't know when he would come back, and he didn't want to make any promises.

Mickey slammed the door when he went out; he didn't mean to slam it or maybe he did, trying to get rid of some of his anger.

He didn't even know why he was angry; he just was. Maybe it was because he was being asked about Ian and about his shooting. He didn't want to talk about Ian or about when he got shot. Talking about Ian only reminded him that Ian wasn't with him, not now. Talking about when the shooting also reminded him that Ian wasn't with him. It reminded him that he was discharged and sent back to Chicago; reminded him that Ian was still in that fucking desert, unprotected. But Ian was protected by all the other men in their unit, but those men didn't protect Mickey. So how the fuck could they protect Ian? Mickey wanted to be there, making sure his red-head was safe.

When Mickey got back to his apartment he flopped down onto the couch, which creaked. He turned the tv on, searching the channels. He finally stopped on a movie, it was one with a chinese guy and a black guy it, Mickey didn't know the name, but he knew that it was one of Ian's favorites. He felt stupid for knowing that it was Ian's favorite and he felt even stupider when the movie made him think of Ian.

Mickey passed out on the couch. He dreamt of Ian; fuck, he dreamt of Ian every night. It was always the same dream. Him and Ian living together, and much to Mickey's surprise, they had a child living with them. Mickey didn't mind having the kid there, he just wondered where the fuck it came from. Who's kid was it? There was no way it was his or Firecrotch's. At least he didn't think it was their kid.

Sometimes it was a little girl, other times a little boy. The little girl always looked so much like Ian, with bright red hair and big eyes. The boy looked more like Mickey, with dark hair and Mickey's nose.

Mickey woke up around three in the morning, he was covered in sweet and his heart was racing. He dream had been the same as every other night, nothing bad had happened. He didn't understand why he was freaking out. He realized that missed Ian, more than he had thought. He realized that he wanted to be with Ian forever. And as gay and sappy as it sounds, he wanted to, dare he say, marry Ian and have a family with the red-head. He realized how much he truly cared for Ian. And that scared the shit out of him.

Mickey grabbed a beer from the fridge and popped it open. He took a long drink and decided to play xbox. He wasn't tired anymore. He'd be exhausted tomorrow but for now he wanted to kill shit.

Note To Readers-Let me know what you thought of this please. I thought it was pretty good. Should I continue it? Also what do you think of the title? I struggled to come up with one. Oh and the movie I was talking about was Rush Hour. I was watching the movie as I wrote this :P-Alayna