Michelle, I gave it an ending for you :)
His head hurts and his heart burns. Or maybe it's the other way around. Maybe he isn't feeling anything at all. Maybe this isn't even real in the first place.
It's probably all just in his head.
But then is it the worst sort of dream or the best sort of nightmare? To see him standing there like he never left. Just taller and broader, with sun browned skin; at least as brown as a fucking ginger from Chicago is ever going to go.
He has his hair cropped short and a smoke in his hand, ash blowing away down to the ground as he just stares out at Chicago like he fucking missed it or something.
And they're on the rooftop, so maybe it's supposed to be the universe's idea of poetic, because Mickey still calls this their rooftop in his head and he still punishes himself by coming up here to carve a line into the brick work each day.
To remind himself? To hurt himself?
Out of habit? Shame?
Either way there is four years' worth of marks on the wall behind Ian; and now Mickey has the knife already in his hand. He wonders if Ian's seen them, if he knows what they mean. He thinks about putting another mark there, just walking over and doing it in front of him. A line or an X. Or just nothing at all. He can't decide.
Except, his feet are glued to the ground and he knows that Ian knows he's there. But neither of them are moving and neither of them are speaking. What are they supposed to say now? Are there any words for this sort of situation?
All Mickey can think is that if this is all in his head, then he's fine with standing still and frozen; he just wants to look at Ian a little longer. Just look for a while. Forever maybe.
And it could have been just minutes, but in Mickey's head it felt like hours until he finally took those steps that put him right by Ian's side. Ian didn't turn to look at him, but then Mickey felt maybe that was because the redhead knew that Mickey couldn't take his eyes off of him. He couldn't stop staring, just in case he blinked and suddenly Ian was gone.
"Hey," he said eventually, the word falling out of his mouth on an exhale.
Ian jumped like Mickey had screamed though and finally turned his head. And when their eyes met, Mickey could have sworn that Ian smiled, just the corner of his mouth twitching up in response to whatever he saw on Mickey's face.
"Hey," he said back.