Twin Sized Mattress

by alexis0392

POST 3X12. It's been a week since Ian left for the Army, and Mickey is a wreck. The song that comes up on his iPod doesn't help matters. As the song plays, Mickey is bombarded by memories of Ian while he listens to the lyrics.

1. Wiry Broke Down Frames of My Friends

A/N: Hey y'all. This is going to be my first Mickey and Ian fic, and this story has been swimming around in my head ever since I listened to this song this summer. Each chapter is going to be a verse or line from the song that draws a memory of Ian from Mickey's brain. Some chapters are going to be scenes from the show, but in Mickey's POV, while others are going to be little drabbles of scenes we never got see.

The song is Twin Sized Mattress by The Front Bottoms.

Here's a link to the song, as well as the lyrics: watch?v=c WJUk65EnQM
(take out the spaces )

I hope you enjoy the ride! ~A.C.E.

*M&I~*~M&I~*~M&I~*~M&I~*~M&I~*~M&I~*~M&I~*~M&I~*~M&I~*~M&I~*~M&I~*~M&I~*~M&I~*~M&I~*~M&I~*~M&I~*~M&I~*~M&I~*~M&I~*~M&I~*~M&I*

Chapter 1: Wiry Broke Down Frames of my Friends' Bodies

It had only been one week.

One week since he'd heard that voice that made his insides warm. One week since he'd last seen that grin spread across a freckle ridden face. One week since the one steady structure he had left in his life left on a fucking bus for the fucking Army, and one god damn week since Mickey Milkovich felt like he was standing on slightly stable ground.

Mickey felt like an empty shell; hollow and fragile. He hadn't left his room for anything, except eating and pissing. His room was masked in darkness, and the smell of smoke, stale beer and body odor hung in the air, the stench thick with every inhale. Mickey didn't notice; he couldn't notice. He was numb, and yet, he was more emotional than he ever thought possible. All his thoughts surrounded around that redheaded son of a bitch that left him in this hell. He didn't speak to anyone, not even offering the occasional grunt when his sister checked in on him. He was just silent, letting his demons eat away at him from the inside.

After a week of mental torture, Mickey couldn't take the silence any longer. He searched for the iPod he had stolen from some rich kid's pocket, placed the headphones over his ears, and pressed shuffle. The familiar sound of an acoustic guitar and drums filled his ears, and Mickey froze. He knew this song. He knew this song well. Mickey felt the prickling along his eyes, but forced the tears back as he let the song play.

This is for the lions living in the wiry broke down frames of my friends bodies.

When the flood water comes, it ain't gonna be clear. It's gonna look like mud.

But I will help you swim. I will help you swim. I'm gonna help you swim.

A tear slipped down Mickey's cheek as he whispered into the darkness, "Wish you were here now, Firecrotch, 'cause it feels like I'm fucking drowning."