When You Say Nothing At All
A Gallavich FanFiction
Things can never be the same
:-:
When Ian came back from the war Mickey didn't go and see him for about two months. Once he had summoned up the courage to do so, he didn't say anything; he just sat there occasionally offering the joint he was smoking over. Gallagher didn't say anything either – Mickey hadn't realised how much he missed the endless chatter.
Eventually Mickey was turning up at least once a week. People said Ian had come back scarred – mutilated – but Mickey never saw it; Ian would always be just the same to him. Firecrotch.
It wasn't even like they ever fucked anymore, just spent time soaking up each other's company.
When Mickey started to talk he found he couldn't stop. They weren't his fucking feelings or anything – they just filled the time before he had to go back to his wife: Back to a kid he knew wasn't his. Being with Gallagher was the one time his father's eyes weren't on him; his tiny window of escape.
And here he was hiding behind it, leaning back against Ian, feeling the cold along his spine. He always left gaps in the conversation even though he knew they would never be filled.
When Mandy found him there later he wouldn't even meet her eye – just left darkened; defeated.
And when she traced the letters of Ian's name on the stone, she wasn't surprised to find someone had engraved "Firecrotch" beneath.