A/N: I can't stop thinking about what happened with Ian and Mickey in the newest episode, so I couldn't help but right this. Please, read and review. I hope you somewhat like it. I can't sleep so sorry if it's not good. This may or may not be more than one chapter.

"You love me, and you're gay."

The words rang echoed through Mickey's head. He hadn't been able to sleep since what he did. Since those words came out of Gallagher's mouth. All he could do was lie in bed, staring at nothing across his room while on his stomach, a beer in the hand that dangled off his bed.

Why couldn't he just keep his fucking mouth shut and stayed away from Mickey? Why couldn't he see what was staring him right in the face?

Mickey had bee so afraid, he didn't mean to hurt Ian. He never wanted to, he just wanted Gallagher to shut the fuck up and stay away for his own good. He just...He snapped.

So he tried to leave, before he could fuck things up worse.

And then the red head said those words. What Mickey had done was in sheer panic and fear and just wanting Ian to fucking understand.

He can't fucking love Ian Gallagher. No. Never. What they had is over, done for.

"Fuck..." He muttered, letting the beer settle on the floor as he shifted on his back.

Fire crotch will never forgive me for this. He thought. The part of him that formed because of Ian felt heartbroken. They were both never going to get past this. This was worse than telling Gallagher he was just a warm mouth. He...Ian had been fucking right. Goddammit, Mickey Milkovich was in fucking love with Ian Gallagher. A guy. No matter what, his father can't fix it. No matter how many fucks he has with women, with the bitch he has to get married to because she got fucking pregnant.

Mickey Milkovich won't be able to love any girl or any other guy the way he loves Ian. And he's going to keep denying it. Keep shoving it away, because that's what Milkoviches do. They're selfish criminals who care for themselves and fighting. This...These feelings have to be buried. Or else his father will kill him this time, and then go kill Gallagher. And after what he just did to him, Mickey would rather they both lived and suffered.

All that went through the ex-con's head was how it felt to punch the red head. To kick him. Mickey wanted to throw up. He felt even more disgusted with himself than he did before.

Just use this to get the fuck over me, Gallagher. Save yourself.

From the beginning, Mickey knew that whatever the fuck they had going on would end terribly. Everything always did. It was what they grew up knowing. But fucking Gallagher, he got under his skin and flipped a switch to make him feel and care and find something to be happy about for once since he was a little weakling on a child.

Maybe this was the fucking sign he needed. Hurting Firecrotch, his father finding out who he is, it all meant something. Mickey had nothing left. He could easily just take the fucking gun in his drawer and off himself with a bullet. He could take a thing of pills and OD before anyone gave a shit long enough to dump him at a hospital. He could take a switchblade and cut deep enough to bleed out quickly.

No. He won't do any of that. He's not a fucking coward like that.

Instead, he gets off the bed. Mickey grabs the empty bag out from under his bed and starts shoving everything he has into it. Takes the gun and buries it in among the clothes and Snickers bars. The ex-con shoves his cartons of cigarettes into the bag along with some photos he actually decided were worth something.

Then he went to the kitchen, grabbed the remaining Jello-O and some leftover food. Only one thing left. He went to the dresser and moved it away from the wall to reveal a hole he had kicked in before he went to Juvie for punching that stupid ass cop instead of killing off Frank. He reached a hand into the hole and pulled out a huge stash of money he hid, going to the bag and hiding it all at the bottom. Mickey closed the bag, found some crumpled paper and a half used pen, then wrote.

He took the note to Mandy's empty room. Mickey knew she'd be home late that night, she'd looked pissed when she came by for the car. He went over to her table and opened the drawer where her make up was and shoved the note in before closing the drawer and walking out.

Mickey took his bag, stole the keys to the car they kept hidden out back, and snuck out. The ex-con removed the tarp covering the piece of shit car, then silently pushed it out into the alleyway. He couldn't let anyone here the car start, so he just kept pushing until he hit the end of the street before getting it. He tossed the bag into the back seat, turned on the car and drove.

The ex-con had no fucking idea where he was going, just that he couldn't stop driving. Maybe he'd go to New York. He could become a fucking bartender or some shit at a club.

Mandy will forgive him, someday. She'll understand. Maybe. And maybe somehow, Gallagher will, too. Who knew, one day they could fucking see each other again. Mickey would fix things then. There'd be no one to hide from. Mickey would be willing to try to be fucking nice and find ways to apologize. He won't fucking say the actual words, but he can do something to show it.

Gallagher will be in the Army, maybe forget him. That's the more likely option. Or he'll be there full of rage and hatred for Mickey. That's better than staying in fucking puppy love.

No, it wouldn't be. It'd leave Mickey alone to feel this pain he caused himself.

"I'm fucking sorry, Gallagher." He said it out loud, to himself. That's the best he can do. With one regret in his pocket, Mickey drove out of Chicago and away, never planning to return.

When Mandy came home, she decided to wait until morning to clean the car. That Karen bitch had it coming. Lip belonged to Mandy. It's her that Lip is supposed to decide to take with him to Boston. Get her out of here and far away from her father.

She walked past Mickey's room, which she noticed wasn't a mess. She walked into the room.

"Mickey? Yo, Fuck face, you in here?" Mandy looked around. Something was so fucking off. His shit was gone, and so was Mickey himself.

As she walked to her room, she pulled her cell out and dialed his number. He didn't answer.

"Hey, douchebag, answer the fucking phone. Where the fuck are you? Call me back the instant you get this, shithead." Mandy knew their father was going to fucking pistolwhip him again for this. She went over to her table and moved things around until she noticed some paper in her make up drawer. Her name was scribbled messily on it.

Mickey's handwriting.

Mandy opened up the note and read it.

Mandy-

Milkoviches don't do goodbyes, so I'm not giving you one. I can't stay here anymore. the fucking shitty mess isn't getting fixed, and I figure best way to end it is get the fuck out while I can.

Don't look for me, don't think about me. I'm not coming back, so don't start wishing on some fucking stars. finish school and find your own way out.

Tell your friend for me that I'm a fuck up. He'll understand better than you can. Don't hold a fucking grudge over this.

-Mickey

Mandy stared at the note for what felt like hours. The fucking selfish asshole left without her, without saying it to her face. And what the fuck was the business about Ian? What did he do to him?

She crumpled the note and hid it, knowing there was only so much time before Terry got home. So she grabbed some of her shit and bolted, knowing the Gallaghers most likely figured she'd be coming over and sleeping with Lip tonight. Nothing made sense anymore, and she didn't think she wanted it to.

Hell was bound to break loose eventually. I guess this is it.