Late Night Talks

It had been twenty four hours since Ian had moved. Mickey hadn't really moved either. Sure, he'd eaten and he'd gone to the bathroom and shit but he hadn't left Ian's side. The bigger boy was lying in bed, seemingly ignoring the world around him and it was killing Mickey. Currently, he was lying behind the bigger boy with his arms wrapped tightly around Ian's waist. Ian was breathing quietly and leaning against Mickey as though terrified that Mickey would leave. Ridiculous, Mickey thought. He wasn't going anywhere. Nothing would take Mickey away from Ian's side. Not a damned thing. He curled closer to Ian and closed his eyes, trying to get some sleep. It was late and he was exhausted. Taking care of a nearly comatose Ian wasn't the easiest thing in the world. Not that Mickey would ever not take care of Ian. The only other option was Ian going to a hospital and Mickey was dead set against that idea.

Mickey woke up the next morning to the sound of Ian's voice. Opening his eyes, he looked and saw that Ian was sitting up. He had one hand stroking through Mickey's hair and the other wrapped around his knees. There were tears on his face and Ian was whispering apology after apology.

"What're you babbling about?" Mickey asked.

Ian sobbed a little. "I'm sorry..." he whispered.

"For?" Mickey tried his hardest to sound irritated. He didn't manage it.

"That you have to deal with me like this. You...I'm sorry."

Mickey sat up and wrapped an arm around Ian's shoulders. Ian rested his head on Mickey's shoulder and sighed. Mickey didn't speak for a long time. When he did, his voice was quiet.

"I know sometimes I act like doing this annoys the shit out of me but the truth is I do it because I want to. I'd rather take care of you here than have you shipped off to some mental ward. I love you Ian. Regardless of how I choose to show it, I do. And I wouldn't take care of you if I didn't want to. When have I ever done something I didn't want to. I'm Mickey fucking Milkovich. I don't do shit I don't wanna fuckin' do."

"I love you too Mick. I guess I just feel guilty. You take such good care of me and I don't do anything for you..."

"Yes you do."

"What?"

"You do shit for me. You keep me calm, you help with the baby. Hell you do a million things for me. You're the reason I came out for christ sakes."

"If you say so."

Mickey kissed him. "I do say so. Now lay down. It's like four in the morning. We're meant to be fuckin' sleeping."

Ian lay down and turned to pull Mickey into his arms. Mickey buried his face against Ian's chest and sighed. Things would get better. It was going to take a while and it would take a lot of effort but they would get better. Mickey wouldn't let them get worse.