hey guys im realy into this show called shameless and this is a one-shot i could not, for the life of me, get out of my head. (btw very depressing)
disclaimer: attempted suicide
beta-ed by bladerchickoo1
"If I wasn't bipolar-"
Mickey was twitching as he watched his boyfriend Ian talk non-stop about something insignificant for what felt like the millionth time this week.
"-And then he had the auda-,"
"Can you shut up, Ian, can you do that for me, be quite for five goddamn minutes!" Mickey finally yelled slamming his hand on the table as if it did something to earn the dent it received.
Ian looked at him, shocked at the reaction he had been given, but Mickey wasn't done; he was far from finished. Everything that Mickey had been feeling for the past week spewed out of his normally calm and composed mouth, at least it was when he was dealing with Ian.
"I don't even know why I put up with this, your just so worthless Gallagher, and you wonder why I wouldn't let you kiss me, its cause your fucking annoying, Ian. All you do is take you fucking meds and annoy me all day, like Jesus! Sometimes I wonder why you just don't kill yourself, if you did it would do us all a favor with not having to deal with your crazy ass. Like fuck Ian just shut up!"
Ian watched with tears in his eyes as Mickey stormed out of the house, leaving a hole in the wall where the doorknob hit it when Mickey threw it open.
All Ian could hear were the words that Mickey yelled at him... worthless... annoying... kill yourself.
He would do anything to make Mickey happy, and if that meant he would have to kill himself to make that happen, then so be it. He would do anything Mickey asked him to.
Ian slowly stood up, a few sobs escaping his otherwise calm features.
He knew what he had to do.
When he finally reached the bathroom he pulled the door open and closed it softly behind him.
He looked at himself in the mirror, all he saw was a mess of a person that was once him, but now was only a shadow of the person he was with Mickey.
He was always happy with Mickey, he was always himself, and Mickey said that was all he wanted from him.
Ian regretted every single time he did something to annoy the shorter man, but there was no changing it now.
Mickey didn't want him, nobody did.
Ian opened the cupboard that was to the left of the mirror and grabbed the razor on the bottom shelf.
Quickly snapping the offending plastic he found himself looking at the small pieces of metal that were in his hand, he smiled softly and used his other hand to wipe away the remaining tears that were slowly stopping.
Ian carefully placed the blades on the counter and grabbed the notebook that they always kept with the pile of books, grabbing the pencil he flipped open to a new page.
He stared at the blank page for a few minutes not knowing what to write. He finally decided,
'I love you Mickey, and I'll do anything to make you happy. You deserve to be happy, you deserve to be free.
Luv, Ian.'
Those were the last words that anyone would ever hear from him. They made him smile, he had a big family, they would forget about him in time, and maybe Mickey would be happy without him.
He picked up the blade and saw the light shine off of the piece of metal, he lowered it to his wrist and took a deep breath…
Tears were streaming down his face, as he looked at the mirror for the last time.
As he made the first cut he wondered who would find his body, how they would react, if they would cry. He sliced deeper and allowed himself to scream knowing that no one would hear him.
When he became too dizzy he switched arms. He slowly tried to finish what he started, only to collapse from the blood loss. He didn't try to fight the exhaustion, just slowly closed his eyes knowing it would be all over soon; but he didn't want to die anymore.
Mickey paced around the block, passing house after house over and over again while he berated himself for saying that stuff to Ian. He knew it wasn't Ian's fault, it was the medication and he still wasn't getting the right dosages. He finally decided to go back inside so when he turned the corner and saw the house he started walking over people's lawn.
He opened the door to find it surprisingly ajar.
"Ian," he called.
After not seeing him in the living room Mickey became worried,
"IAN!" He called, almost yelling as he entered their shared bedroom.
"This isn't funny Ian," he yelled in a panicked voice.
Mickey walked further down the hallway, his face paled when he saw the crimson color coming out from under the door, the color that Mickey knew well, blood, Ian's blood to be exact.
He ran towards the door and pulled it open, he dropped to his knees.
His Ian, his cheerful, fun loving, happy boyfriend laid on the ground, blood pouring from his slit open wrists.
He was so stricken my his fallen lover that he didn't notice himself calling the ambulance or talking to the operator until Ian was lifted onto a stretcher and rushed to the ambulance outside.
He quickly climbed in the back and watched with petrified eyes as the paramedics tried to stop the bleeding in Ian's arms.
They quickly reached the hospital and he watched as they ran Ian through a pair of doors, which he was not allowed to cross. He collapsed into a plastic chair, tangled his hands in his hair and sobbed.
He could only hope that Ian was going to be okay
Ian groggily woke up to the dull sound of beeping coming from beside him. He felt a weight in his hand and squeezed, he almost jumped in fright when it squeezed back. He didn't know where he was, but he guessed he was in the hospital by the sterile smell and the light he could see through his eyelids.
"Mickey," he mumbled snapping his eyes open to meet Mickey's blue ones.
"Ian…" Mickey sighed, relief clear in his voice.
"What-" suddenly all the memories came back to him, Mickey yelling, him crying, him attempting to kill himself. He yanked his hand out of Mickey's grasp and examined the thick bandages placed around them.
"I-I'm so sorry Ian," he heard Mickey whisper.
"I tried to kill myself, I just tried to kill myself, because you told me to," Ian says almost hysterically.
Mickey slowly climbs onto the bed and cradles the redhead to his chest.
Mickey pleads for forgiveness, for Ian's love, and for Ian to never try to kill himself ever again.
Ian looks at Mickey and sees the pure look of love on the other man's features.
"I love you... and I didn't mean any of the things I said... I was frustrated and I took it out on you,"
"It's okay Mick," Ian says using his hand to cup Mickey's face.
"No... No it's not okay, and I'll be making it up to you for the rest of our lives," Mickey replies while kissing the tears off of Ian's cheeks.
"Hey it's not your fault-"
"Damn right it's my fault"
"If I wasn't bipolar-"
"You are you Ian and bipolar is a part of you and no one has the right to judge you for it!" Mickey declares, looking in Ian's eyes, pleading for Ian to understand.
"I love you, and I'm an idiot."
"That's two things we agree on."
"What?"
"I love you too, and we're both idiots!"
Ian laughs and Mickey can't help but wonder why he deserves this amazing human being.
The truth is... he doesn't but as long as Ian wants him he'll be there. For better or for worse, and all that shit.
"Mickey"
"Yes Ian"
"I love you
"I love you to, but... If you ever hurt yourself again I will kill you myself."
"Agreed."
"Agreed."
Now all they had to do was wait out the stupid 72 hour suicide watch and go home. Sure, Ian wasn't completely okay but who was after trying to take their own life, as long as Mickey was there Ian was sure he would get through this.
As long as they were there for each other everything would be okay, for better, for worse, and all that shit.