AN: Here's another Ian/Mickey one-shot. I was listening to Jason Aldean's 'Why' and the subject for the story hit me like a ton of bricks and wouldn't leave me alone. Therefore, I decided to head over to a blank document and start writing. I promise Junior Marauders will be updated as soon as I finish it. :D

True Rayanne Adaire

Why

They were fighting. Again. Mickey wasn't even aware of why they were fighting anymore. All he remembered was that they'd been fighting pretty much all day and he'd said some pretty…mean…shit to Ian before storming out of the house. It was around two thirty in the morning now and he was sitting outside of the house, scared to go in because he was pretty sure Ian was done with his shit by now. I mean, and Mickey would never admit this to anyone but himself and maybe Ian, he knew he was kind of at fault for all their fights lately. Yeah, Ian was sensitive and kind of girlish sometimes, but that was just how Ian was. Mickey was an asshole. He knew that. Better than Ian probably thought he did. And it was true that Ian pissed him off sometimes and…that sometimes Mickey had every right to say mean things to Ian. That didn't, obviously, mean that he didn't regret them afterwards. Especially when, as soon as he'd said them, Ian had teared up like he was gonna cry but wouldn't give Mickey the satisfaction of seeing it. (There was absolutely no doubt in Mickey's mind that Ian had in fact cried once he'd slammed the door and stormed off. But Mickey knew Ian wouldn't do it in front of him.)

If there was one thing Mickey couldn't do without feeling like utter shit afterwards, it was making Ian cry. He'd never actually said the three words out loud to Ian, but…and this was weird for him to admit even to himself…he did love the redhead. It was kind of hard not to…Ian made it easy to fall in love with him. Even when Mickey wanted nothing more than to punch the kid in the mouth, he did love him. And normally, he didn't need to say it. He could get away with just showing it in a million different ways. Ways like letting Ian fall asleep on his chest or coming out to an entire bar full of people (okay that had been a big way but you get the point). Tonight, though, he figured Ian was gonna need to hear it. If he didn't, and he was just guessing by the way Ian had shouted at him to leave that afternoon, he was probably gonna lose him. And losing Ian would be…well…no one really wanted to see who that would probably turn Mickey into. He was a big enough asshole now…extract Ian from the equation and it would be a lot worse.

Behind him, the door to Ian's house opened and Lip stepped out. Mickey barely suppressed a groan. He and Lip had never gotten along and, if he was honest, they probably never would. It was just a fact of life. But he'd tolerate whatever Lip had to say because Ian would probably appreciate it and…well he wasn't in the mood to argue. With anyone. Lip sat down next to him and gave him one of those looks that usually meant there would be talking happening and Mickey sighed.

"Why're you sittin' out here when Ian's in there?" Lip asked and Mickey rolled his eyes.

"We're fightin' obviously. Why else?"

"And? You two do that all the time."

"Worse this time. What's it to you?"

"He's my little brother."

"No shit. What do you want? I'm in no fuckin' mood to argue."

"Then listen. Shithead."

"Hurry the fuck up." Was all Mickey said and Lip grinned.

"Ian's been upstairs since you left, you know. Wouldn't even come down for dinner. Carl said he's got the door locked too. You've got two options here. You can fuck up for the billionth fuckin' time this week. Or you can go up there and make shit right. I may not like you but Ian's happier when you're here than when you're not and that's better than nothin'."

"I was already plannin' on going up there. Just not yet. Now leave me the fuck alone."

Lip nodded and slipped back inside, yelling something at Fiona as he shut the door. With Lip gone, Mickey sighed and covered his face with his hands. Everything in him told him to just get the fuck upstairs already and talk to Ian but he didn't know how. What if he went up there and screwed up again? God fuckin' knew that's all he'd been doin' the past week. I mean, they'd been fighting nonstop and Mickey was always at fault. He'd lost track of how many times he'd made Ian cry over the past week and that wasn't something he was proud of. Once upon a time he wouldn't have cared but he did and he really didn't want to fuck up again.

Sighing, Mickey stood and slipped inside. There was only one way he was ever gonna fix anything and that was by going up there and talking to Ian. Lip gave him a smirk as he walked by and Mickey rolled his eyes, heading for the stairs without really thinking about it. He passed Carl on his way to Ian's room and the kid gave him a glare that was probably supposed to be scary but was mostly just annoying. Like Lip had said, the door was locked but Mickey could hear sounds coming from inside it. Tell-tale sounds of someone's ragged breathing that meant Ian was crying. Mickey didn't bother to bang on the door. Ian wouldn't answer. Instead, he picked the lock easily. He'd done it a hundred times this week. Inside, Ian was sitting in the corner of his bed with his knees drawn up to his chest. He didn't look up as Mickey walked in, didn't move when he sat down beside him. And there was no talk for a long time because Mickey didn't know what the fuck to say. He'd been giving Ian bullshit apologies all week and he couldn't just apologize now. No, this had to be real. He had to say the three words that he knew Ian probably needed to hear. And he had to fucking show him that he wasn't the lost cause that Ian probably thought he was.

"I love you, you know. I don't say it much 'cause I don't think I need to. I'm a man of action not words. But I do. And I'm sorry I've been such a shit this week. I'm…Ian…I'm sorry. I'm not good with words. You know that. But I'm tryin' to tell you that I…I'm not a lost cause. I'm…I don't want you to leave me."

Great. Now he sounded like a fuckin' girl. A dramatic one that. But when Ian turned to him, there was a small smile on his face and that totally made up for it. Ian scooted closer to him and lay his head on Mickey's shoulder, not saying anything. Mickey pressed a kiss to the top of his head and sighed as Ian got comfortable. When Ian spoke, his voice was quieter than normal.

"I'm sorry too. I…I should just know when to stop I guess. But sometimes I can't. I'm not leavin' either. Don't think I could ever really do that. No matter how many times I threaten it."

"Look Ian, it's a fact of life that we're probably always gonna fight at least once a week. But…no more than that, okay? I hate fighting with you."

"Agreed. Now let's go the fuck to sleep. I'm exhausted."

"I figured you'd already be asleep by the time I came up."

Ian shook his head as they climbed between the blankets. "Nah. I was waiting for you to come up. I sleep better when you're up here. Even when you are being a dick."

Mickey laughed as Ian wrapped his arms around Mickey's waist. The two boys fell asleep quickly after that, both of them happy to not be fighting anymore.