Said you'd took a big trip
They said you moved away
Happened oh so quietly, they say

It had been four days, six hours and twenty-eight minutes (not that he was counting or anything, fuck that, he just had a good memory) since Ian Gallagher had left the Milkovich house and Mandy had called him a pussy.
Mickey had been in bed ever since. It wasn't like he was crying over Firecrotch or anything; fuck Firecrotch and his stupid assumptions about Mickey and his feelings. No, he just didn't feel like facing Mandy and the judgmental looks she threw his way, he didn't feel like going into the living room only to see Svetlana smiling at him with a mixture of sadness and gratitude in her eyes, he didn't wanna see anyone from that stupid annoying Gallagher clan. Mickey just wanted to sleep for a little while. A week, maybe two. And then he'd get out of bed and find some faggot on the street and beat his ass to pulp. It would make Terry happy and it would make Mickey numb, just the way he liked it.

Mickey stretched his arm out from his sleeping bag and grabbed the half-empty beer can next to the bed. He winced slightly as he swallowed; warm beer really was fucking disgusting, but it had to do. There was no way he was gonna get up and make his way to the fridge. Besides, warm or not, the beer caused a pleasant buzz, some sort of a layer of softness in his brain that every thought bounced off of.
There was a soft knock at the door. Mickey sighed. It had to be Svetlana, no one else had the actual fucking decency to knock whenever the hell they wanted something.
She stuck her head around the door, looked at him with a hint of concern.
Mickey really wished he had some weed right now, because the beer wasn't enough to keep the memory of him fucking Svetlana into the couch while Terry looked at him with both pride and a warning in his eyes and while a few tears made their way down Gallagher's cheeks at bay. It wasn't that he disliked Svetlana per se; she just reminded him of where it all went to shit. He might have to look at her during the day and they might have to share a bed, but there was no way in hell he was gonna share anything from his life or bedcovers with her.

'What?' he growled, his voice croaking from not using it in four days.
'There… is man. At door. He ask for you,' she said, her words thick with her accent. She kept looking back over her shoulder as if she was scared.
Heavy footsteps sounded on the floorboards in the direction of Mickey's (well, technically also Svetlana's) room. Svetlana let out a gasp as she was pushed aside roughly and Mickey pretended not to notice the way she immediately folded her hands over her belly, protecting what was inside.
The door was almost pushed out of its hinges by a very drunk and very angry Lip Gallagher as he stumbled into Mickey's room, throwing a lamp on the floor as he tried to keep himself upright.
Mickey groaned and pulled the covers over his head. Why the fuck couldn't anyone just leave him alone, just for a couple of days? Lip had probably found out about Firecrotch leaving thanks to Mickey, and now he was here, either to yell at Mickey or to beat him up.
Apparently it was the second option. Mickey felt his sleeping bag being pulled away from him as a fist connected with his face, right on his collarbone. Jesus fucking Christ, even drunk Gallagher could hit pretty hard. Fucking douchebag.
Mickey jumped out of bed (which was pretty impressive, given the amount of beer he'd been drinking) and took a swing at Lip, smirking satisfied as he felt his fist connect with bone.
Lip almost lost his balance, but steadied himself and punched Mickey in the stomach, forcing him to his knees as Mickey groaned. He felt Lip's hands pushing at his shoulders, trying to force him onto his back on the cold floor, straddling Mickey's legs.
Mickey punched into the air and hit Lip's nose, a nauseating crack was heard as blood started running down his face.

Mickey didn't hear Mandy come in, but suddenly she was there, screaming at Lip to get the fuck off her brother right the fuck now or she would bash his head in with a frying pan. Lip's weight was pulled off of him and Mickey sat upright, groaning as he felt a pang in his abdomen.
Lip sat crouched on the floor, cradling his broken nose in his hands as he fruitlessly tried to stop the bleeding. Good, at least he hurt that fucker.
Svetlana still stood in the doorway, wringing her hands together. Mandy just gave both Mickey and Lip a look of disgust and turned away, marching out of the room, muttering something that sounded like 'losers' and 'fucking freakshow'.
Mickey waved Svetlana away. 'Fuck off, go do some girly shit, leave us alone.'
The irritated tone in his voice seemed to scare Svetlana off and she went back into the living room, where Mickey heard her turn on the tv.
'What the fuck, Gallagher!' Lip leaned his head back while looking Mickey in the eye, trying to stop the bleeding. His voice sounded choked off when he said: 'Oh fuck you Milkovich, you know just as well as I do what this is about.'
Mickey avoided Lip's gaze and grabbed a pack of cigarettes of the floor, lighting one and then throwing the pack and lighter to Lip. It was the closest thing to a peace offering Mickey could give him. Lip lit a cigarette, his bloody fingers leaving red prints. Mickey watched silently as Lip blew a steady stream of smoke towards the ceiling.

'She nice?' Why the fuck would Gallagher talk about Svetlana? He should just tell Mickey to go fuck himself for what he did to Ian and then go home and never bother Mickey or his sister again. Fucking Gallaghers should mind their own fucking business. However, Mickey couldn't deny he was curious whether Lip had heard from Firecrotch. Just curious if he hadn't gotten his ass shot off, that is. Not like Mickey cared or somethin'. It would suck for Mandy, that's all.
Mickey shrugged. 'She's okay, I guess. Quiet, makes dinner, gets me beer.' Lip nodded thoughtfully, eyeing Mickey up, almost scanning him as if he wanted to see a crack in Mickey's mask. It made him nervous and reminded him of Firecrotch and that made his stomach clench uncomfortably, so he frowned. 'What the hell you lookin' at, Gallagher?'
'Just trying to see the appeal, I guess,' Lip replied lightly, riling Mickey up.
'Just trying to see why the fuck you matter so much that Ian would join the army to get away from you. Quite frankly, I don't see it.' The challenging look in Lip's eyes had changed into a harsh one, an accusing one. Mickey cracked his knuckles. Big fucking mouth on Gallagher. Mickey didn't like it.
'Shut the fuck up, Gallagher. If anyone's fucked up big time it's you, with my sister. Now get the fuck out of my house.' Mickey got up, kicking Lip in the side. Lip winced, but stayed where he was.
'No. Listen. Mandy said… Well, she said a lot of things, mostly what a useless scumbag I am, but she also said that Ian came to see you before he left. I need to know if he said anything about how he was planning to join the army, being seventeen and all.'
Mickey bit the side of his mouth. 'So, Firecrotch didn't say anything to any of you?'
Lip looked down, rubbing dirt from his shoes with his thumb. 'Nope. We only found out he'd left when we found a letter from him, when he'd already been gone for over two days.'

The fact that Firecrotch came to see him for a final goodbye rather than his family didn't make Mickey feel anything. Nope. Fuck that.
'Only thing he told me was that he'd found away around having to be eighteen,' Mickey answered shortly.
Lip seemed to sink into himself, almost like a balloon deflating. He rubbed his hands through his hair and when he looked up, Mickey saw something that resembled desperation on his face. 'My ID. I thought I'd lost it, I've done that before, but maybe…'
Mickey was quick to understand. 'Firecrotch took it, pretended to be you and therefore could say he's eighteen.'
Lip nodded, defeated. Mickey was confused. 'Why the fuck does that matter he took your ID? That's good, right? When they find out he's been using a different identity than his own, they'll send him home.' Mickey pretended that those words didn't sound as hopeful in his head as the way they came out of his mouth.
'Yeah, maybe,' Lip sighed. 'But uh… I was planning on going to MIT, maybe. I mean, maybe I owe it to Mandy. After all she did for me and stuff.'
Mickey scoffed. 'Don't make this about Mandy, asshole, all you care about is you.'
'Shut the fuck up, Milkovich.' Lip seemed genuinely angry. 'I don't care about just me all the fucking time. I care about Mandy and I care about my family. Fiona hasn't slept in days and all Debs does is cry and Carl is even more of a sociopath than before. I wanna find Ian, but not just for me. I wanna find him because I fucking care about my family.'
Mickey almost smiled. These fucking Gallaghers, loyal as dogs to each other.

'So, you just plan on finding him and dragging him home? You expecting him to come with you voluntarily?'
'No.' Mickey didn't like the smirk on Lip's face at all. 'I'm gonna find him, tell 'em he's using my ID, and you're gonna come with me.'
'Not gonna happen Gallagher, I ain't going nowhere with you. Fucking Firecrotch decided what he wanted, let him get his ass shot off, it's his own stupid decision.' Mickey turned around and grabbed another can of beer, gulping it down as fast as he could while avoiding Lip's gaze.
Lip got up off the floor and actually fucking smiled at Mickey. 'You can pretend not to care about Ian all you want, Mickey, I know you do.'
And with those words Lip left the room, blood dried on his face, cigarette still in his mouth.

Mickey really should just go back to bed; it was the only right decision. But as he settled back into his sleeping bag, all he could think about was how convenient it was they had this sleeping bag, and that they probably had a duffle bag lying around somewhere in the messy attic.
Fucking Gallaghers and their shitty ideas. Mickey Milkovich did not give a fuck. And he wasn't going anywhere.