I Don't own Shameless.
You Won't Know: Chapter 1
The day Mickey's life had came crashing down around him started out peacefully enough. He had the day off from the store, a job that Linda had given him back with no questions asked after he was released from Juvie the second time. He pushed it out of his mind, knowing the only reason she had given him a day off in the middle of the week was because Gallagher was back in town for a couple weeks. He hadn't talked to the red head since he'd been released, avoiding him at all costs.
Instead, Mickey had slept in, which sadly only meant he slept until 8:30. But that was better than 6 am like he normally woke up to open the store. He'd worked out, running two miles before his lungs screamed at him that they couldn't go any further. He'd gotten Mandy to make him waffles for lunch, smirking when Lip flipped him off as Mandy left him waiting in her bedroom. He was surprised, to say the least, that Mandy and Lip were still together. He'd been locked up for two years and the couple were stronger than ever. Mickey hated how that made him jealous.
He had just sat to watch some stupid crime drama with Lip while Mandy cleaned up in the kitchen when it happened. The front door had flown open to reveal an irate Terry Milkovich. Mickey had frozen, staring at his father with wild eyes when he crossed the room. Terry grabbed Mickey around the throat, lifting the boy off the couch.
"You fucking faggot," he growled, his grip tightening around Mickey throat as he desperately clawed at his father's hands. He was pretty sure he could here Mandy screaming in the back of his mind, and Lip's voice seemed to join the chaos too. Before he knew it, Terry released Mickey, dropping the boy to the ground.
"Leave him alone!" Mandy screamed as Mickey gasped for breath. He was shaking as he climbed to his feet as fast as he could, his vision still swimming. Terry grabbed the baseball bat they kept leaning against the wall just inside of the door. He was posed to swing when Lip grabbed onto his arm.
"Leave him alone," Lip growled. "He's done nothing to you." Terry growled, slamming Lip into the wall behind him. Lip whimpered, grabbing his shoulder. The bone had broken through the skin and he could feel blood running through his fingers.
"I'm not raising a fucking faggot. No son of mine is going to be a fucking faggot!" Mickey had taking a staggering step forward, knowing he had to run. His world was spinning and he tried to move. Mandy was sobbing, and he wanted her to know he was okay. The last thing he remembered was Terry cocking the bat pack, swinging hard.
The metal bat made a loud twang sound as it connected with Mickey's skull. He stuttered forward, crashing to his knees as he felt like he was going to throw up. He was vaguely aware of Mandy screaming 'no' behind him as Terry swung again. His eyes rolled back in his head as he fell face first onto the carpet, missing the satisfaction he should have felt when Mandy his their dad in the back of the head with a frying pan.
Lip held Mandy's hand tight as they rode in the ambulance to the hospital. The paramedic was trying to get Mickey's skull to stop bleeding the they had an oxygen mask fixed tight over his face. Lip held Mandy tight to his chest, trying to block Mandy's view when Mickey started seizing, his back arching up off the bed.
"We've got to move faster, Jack!" the young paramedic yelled, gently trying to hold Mickey's head still. Mandy let out a sob, and Lip flinched when her hand dug deep into his bad shoulder. He kept his arm wrapped around her waist as they watched the nurses and doctors pushing Mickey away from them, their voices loud and frantic.
"Where are they taking him?" Mandy asked, her voice quiet as another came up and led Lip into an exam room, poking at his shoulder gently.
"There's a lot of swelling in his brain," the doctor said quietly, giving Mandy a sad look. "They're just going to operate to try to get the swelling down."
"Is he going to be okay?" she asked, squeezing Lip's hand so tight that he couldn't help but flinch.
"We'll have to see. Take everything one step at a time. But right now how about we do some x-rays on your boyfriend here so maybe we can get him back in one piece." Lip gave Mandy a small smile as an orderly pushed him away from the worried girl.
"It's going to be a long night," he whispered as the doctor gave him a sad smile.
"I feel like that may be understatement of the year, son," he said, and Lip had to agree.
It was late when Lip walked into the Kash and Grab, his arm in a sling. Ian had just been thinking about closing up early, going home and getting trashed. He was being shipped out in two weeks and it felt like he was spending all his time working at the store. He glanced up when Lip walked in, blood staining his shirt.
"What the fuck happened to you?" Ian asked, raising a brow. Lip shrugged it off, wincing when the action made his shoulder throb.
"Have you ever made up with Mickey?" he asked, causing Ian to choke on the sip of water he had just taken.
"No," the red head said, rubbing at the back of his neck. "Every time I went to see him when he was locked up he refused to see me. And every time I've gone to his house since he got out he's slammed the door in my face…Why?" Lip sighed, looking away. He worried his bottom lip between his teeth, not wanting to be the one to tell Ian.
"Terry found out…" Lip said, glancing up at Ian who looked confused.
"Found out about what?" He asked, leaning forward on his forearms.
"About Mickey being gay…" Lip said, sighing when the realization his Ian's face. "Tried to strangle him at first, then went after him with a baseball bat. I tried to get it out of his hands, but he just ended up breaking my shoulder before cracking Mickey in the head twice with the bat. Mandy took Terry down right afterwards, though. Hit him in the head with a frying pan…"
"Is Mickey okay?" Ian asked, and Lip hated the horrified look on his face.
"They'd taken him into surgery right after we got to the hospital. The doctor's say there's a lot of swelling in his brain and they're trying to keep it from getting worse. He had at least one seizure that I know of on the way to the hospital, but that's to be expected with the blow to the head he took. He'd just gotten out when I left, but the doctors said they won't know anything else until he wakes up. If…if he wakes up….Ian, man, it really doesn't look good…"
Ian let his head fall into his hands, his breath coming out in shaky gasps. He closed his eyes, trying to calm to churning in his stomach. His eyes flew open as he jumped to his feet, knocking over the stool he'd been sitting on.
"I'm going to be sick," he mumbled as he pushed past Lip, falling to his knees just outside the door and spilling the contents of his stomach. Arnie, the homeless man who lived in the alley grimaced, cursing at him to go someplace else and not puke in his home. Lip appeared behind Ian then, pulling him to his feet.
"Go," Lip whispered, shaking Ian slightly when his eyes blurred and spaced out. "Get to the hospital now, before it's too late Ian."
"We don't close for another two hours. I have to stay here," Ian whispered, his eyes wide.
"Go, I've got it. I'll watch over here, explain to Linda what's going on. Just go, Ian." Ian nodded, turning on his feet and leaving at a sprint. He jumped to turn stile of the El and slid into the train seconds before the door slid shut. He let his head fall into his hand again, taking deep breaths as he tried to keep himself from puking again.
Ian had tried to make it up to Mickey, which really, if you thought about it, that was really fucked up. Ian shouldn't have to apologize when Mickey was the one who ended it all. It was Mickey who told Ian he meant nothing. It had been Mickey who had wanted to kill Ian's dad, who had chickened out once it was possible people might actually know. Which now that Ian thought about it, he understood why Mickey had been so afraid.
But Ian really had tried to make things better. He had graduated from West Point early, and he'd had a month from graduation to the time he was going to be shipped out and the only thing he wanted to do was make things right. The entire time he'd been at West Point all he could think about was how much he missed Mickey; the feel of his calloused hands on him as he pounded into the boy. It wasn't like he couldn't find it elsewhere, but it wasn't the same. It was only Mickey, who repeatedly would bite down on his shoulder to keep from yelling out, that would make Ian feel alive. He'd had many questions by his roommates about the teeth marks on his shoulders. All he'd done was smirk with a shrug. He was mysterious at West Point, not the open book he was around the south side.
Ian almost missed his stop, still staring at his feet with his head in his hands. He jumped up last minute, the doors bouncing off his arm and causing him to curse as he dragged his arm out. With a shaky breath he headed off to the hospital, pinching the bridge of his nose.
He found Mandy outside smoking, twirling a piece of hair around her finger as she blew smoke out of her nose. He didn't say anything as he pulled her into a hug, feeling her tears slide down the back of his neck.
"He tried to kill Mickey," Mandy sobbed, tightening her grip around Ian's arm. Ian let out a shaky breath, rubbing her back.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, placing a kiss on the top of her head.
"They arrested him. He might stay gone for good this time," Mandy whispered, sounding relieved.
"How is he?" Ian asked, rubbing the back of his neck.
"He hasn't woke up yet," Mandy said, pulling back and taking another hit off of her cigarette. "The doctors said there's still a bit of swelling in his brain and they're trying to keep an eye on it. The doctor said there's a possibility of memory loss, but we won't know until he wakes up. But they've got him sedated a bit so he doesn't wake up and make anything worse…"
"I'm sorry, Mandy…" Ian trailed off, squeezing her hand.
"I guess it rather be Mickey than you," Mandy whispered, brushing a nonexistent hair off of Ian's forehead. "Mickey's tuff, he can take it. But my dad would have killed you if he'd have gotten his hands on you…"
"I've heard this before," Ian mumbled with a shrug. "Can I see him?" Mandy sighed, stubbing out her cigarette and taking Ian's hand and leading him inside.
The days came in went, and after a week the doctor's took Mickey off the sedatives. But even then, he still didn't wake up. Ian spent his days working at the Kash and Grab and his nights sleeping at the hospital, holding Mickey's hand when he knew the boy couldn't fight back. And as the days kept passing, the more worried Ian got. He was being shipped overseas within the next week and Mickey still hadn't woke up.
But the night before he was supposed to leave, Ian sat awake, staring at Mickey's sleeping form.
"You've got to wake up," he whispered, squeezing the ex-con's hand. "I can't leave when you're still like this, but I don't really have a choice come tomorrow. I've got my papers and I ship out tomorrow. I'm not really sure where I'm going, but even if I did I couldn't tell you. But I need you to wake up before I leave, Mick. I need to know you're going to be okay."
Ian sat back, wiping at the tears that fell down his face. He curled in on himself, pulling his hand out of Mickey's limp one. He didn't want to leave, but he knew he had no choice. He watched as Mickey's chest slowly raised and fell. Ian was just starting to drift off when he noticed something different.
Mickey whimpered, his head moving back and forth as he burrowed further into the bed. His left hand slowly raised up and touched the bandage wrapped tightly around his head, whimpering again at the feel. Ian moved to the edge of his chair, his eyes wide.
"Mick?" he whispered, reaching for Mickey's hand again. Mickey moaned, arching his neck back. And then he was blinking his eyes open, squinting as if the light was too bright. "Mickey, can you hear me?"
"Where am I?" the dark haired boy asked, his voice quiet and timid.
"You're in the hospital, Mickey," Ian whispered, moving to sit on the edge of the bed. "You're dad found out…"
"Found out about what?" the ex-con whispered, his eyes wide. "I'm sorry, but who are you?"
Ian almost fell off the bed, clinching his eyes tight as it felt like all the air had been knocked out of his lungs. He sat with his back against the bed, his head in his hands as he took deep breaths, trying to keep from throwing up. After a minute, Ian climbed back to his feet, sitting with razor straight posture on his chair.
"You don't remember what happened, Mickey?" Ian asked quietly, searching the other boys face. Mickey shrugged, shaking his head.
"No. I don't remember anything. I don't even who I am, other than Mickey since that's what you keep calling me. But seriously, who are you?"
"J-j-just a friend," Ian stuttered, climbing to his feet. "I've got to go. I'll let your sister know you're awake."
"I have a sister?" Mickey asked, his wide. Ian closed his eyes turning away.
"Yeah. Her names Mandy. She'll explain everything. I've got to go. Just…Take care Mickey," Ian said, his voice quiet. With one last glance at the broken boy in front of him, he turned and ran, never stopping until he collapsed on his bed, his breath coming out in chocked sobs. But what killed Ian the most was that he couldn't stay, couldn't remain in Chicago to make sure the boy he loved remembered him. He was terrified that he was going to go off to war and get killed, and Mickey would never know who he was. But that was the chance he'd just have to take.
AN: I know, as if I don't have enough unfinished storied. But I hope you liked it. Please review. I'll try to update everything soon. Thanks!