There is a moment right when your eyes adjust to the dark – the exact second when you can see again that makes you feel invincible. Ian loves that moment, loves the superiority it gives him like he would never need to turn a light on again. If the world was blanketed in darkness he would still thrive and that was an intoxicating idea.
But then there is another moment, the one where the darkness fights back. And for some reason no matter that you know it's not actually happening, everything grows darker. The longer you have your eyes wide and looking, it darkens a shade deeper and deeper until you think that you will soon know darkness you've never thought was possible.
Ian hates that because you're still able to see a little and for some reason it's more terrifying, more pressing that way.
He had crept back into the house an hour ago praying that no one would be awake. He just needed a hot shower and a fresh change of clothes and some painkillers, that's all then he'd be fine.
But when he tiptoed into his room and saw a sleeping Mickey Milkovich sprawled out in his bed everything changed. Because Mickey couldn't know – it was imperative that Mickey never found out about any of it.
Ian was careful to grab clothes on the floor instead of risking the sound of a dresser drawer. Mickey rolled over and sighed into his blankets and it made him wonder how often the man before him actually slept. When everyday is one glass of spilled milk waiting to happen in the Milkovich house – sleep is a luxury quickly surrendered.
A black eye was forming on Mickey's pale skin and Ian could see the scraps of skin under the fuck u-up tattoo were peeled and bloody. Fighting hands – he looked at his own and cringed at how similar they were.
When he turned the shower on he stilled and listened intently waiting for the entire house to wake up but no one moved. There were no creaking footsteps from curious minds, just blissfully sleep drunk bodies. Ian hissed and winced at the hot water and watched mesmerized as the blood dripped down his legs to his feet swirling around the drain.
It was beautiful.
"When did you get in?" Lip shuffled his feet over to the chair near the couch and dropped into it with a slight thud. Ian turned over and squinted through sleep-bleared eyes. "Holy shit Ian what happened to your face?"
He'd known that he would look bad when he woke up. The cuts were shallow but the bruises had been dark and deep and aching. "Wrong place wrong time."
Lip stared at him concern growing across his features but he didn't press on. "I didn't hear you get in last night."
"Yea I was out late." He pushed himself up into a sitting position and practically bit through his tongue at the searing pain raking through his body. "What's Mickey doing here?"
Lip shrugged and stared a little harder at his face. He really wanted to ask questions. "Fiona told us he was staying the night and then he pretty much just passed out. I didn't talk to him"
"Fiona?"
He fumbled for the cigarette and lighter on the table next to him. "Yea I don't know she wouldn't elaborate. Just said he was staying." A flame danced to life before his brother's face. "It was fucking weird though."
He nodded like he even knew what he was agreeing to. It being weird? Yea, he guessed. Did he want to talk about it? Throw ideas around about what might be going on? No.
The only thing that Ian could focus on was the nausea overtaking him and the concerning taste of pennies in his mouth. He'd thrown up blood before going to sleep and there it was – still lingering and begging him to say hello.
It had been almost a month since the wedding. Almost a month since he'd stolen his brother's identity and gone to board the bus only to be stopped by a weeping Mandy saying that Mickey was gone. A month since Mickey was found strung out in a motel room with the needle still in his arm and a month since he and Ian had fucked with tears in their eyes.
Mandy had screamed herself hoarse for days demanding that Mickey take it back because you're just like dad. He threw out every drug he owned that night and Ian sat next to him in the bathroom as he puked up the comparison.
Svetlana was around for all of 2 weeks before disappearing and Ian thinks that maybe he should have felt a little bit bad for not caring if she was alive or dead. But he didn't – not really.
Ian hadn't told his brother or Mickey about the brick that was thrown through the window of the Kash and Grab. Didn't tell them about the suspiciously strong smell of gasoline around the store or how he called the fire department and it was a sure fire plan for arson.
"You're lucky you noticed it before they lit the place up kid. No doubt you wouldn't have gotten out."
He had thanked the firefighter and took the compliment on his exquisite observations. He decided to leave out the part about it all being for him.
Footsteps sounded behind him and Ian turned to see Mickey standing at the bottom of the stairs. His black eye so not out of place that it was kind of sad.
The older boy stared at him so intensely that it was uncomfortable. Each ache in his body screamed at once as if trying to test his will. Like they wanted him to give it up and tell Mickey that something had gone terribly wrong.
"What happened to you?"
Mickey's voice was course with sleep and something else – something that made Ian salivate because it hurt so good. It reminded him of that time he'd put his hand through a window and lied telling Fiona that it had been an accident. I just fell don't worry about it. But he hadn't fallen, not in the literal sense.
They stayed staring at each other and Ian found himself wanting to scream. He wanted to shatter all the glass in the house and beg Mickey to roll around in it with him. When each shard would pierce their skin he could blink and break eye contact to sigh out his question of isn't this better?Because they were already bleeding and he could see the very messy road paved custom for them.
So maybe he should tell him – because he was gonna need to walk it too and Ian had a secret.
But he couldn't know. Mickey could never know.
"Nothing. Wrong place, wrong time."