They had slowly been getting back to the way they were before Terry had found them. Obviously a lot had changed but they needed each other and they were both trying hard to make things normal between them again. They were more careful now but Mickey wasn't shutting Ian out. If anything he was more determined than ever to stop anything like that happening again. He wanted to protect Ian, he never wanted to see pain in his eyes again and that included the pained look he got whenever Mickey was distant or tried to end things. Mickey didn't want things to end, the thought of not having Gallagher beside him hurt him more than he could admit even to himself, but he knew that he was trouble. He knew he meant danger for Ian, his family was danger for Ian. But Ian didn't see it that way, the way he saw it, he was never more safe, more protected, than when Mickey was by his side. When Mickey had his back nothing could touch him. And so they had clung to whatever scraps of normality they could and began building back up to the carefree teenagers they had once been together.

That all changed when Lip stormed into The Kash and Grab when Ian had gone to pick up a prescription for Linda.

"Your brothers not here." Mickey announced the second he realised it was Lip and he wasn't there as a paying customer.

"Yeah I figured as much when I saw him leave twenty minutes ago." Lip responded, ever the smart ass. "Firstly, I know you're fucking Ian, just wanna get that out the way so when I say what I gotta say you're gonna listen and not waste time pretending like you don't give a shit."

Mickey feigned shock. He knew Lip knew, Ian had told him when they first properly talked through everything that had happened between them. After Mickey had finally dropped his guard and responded to Ian's constant advances. Mickey had told Ian everything Terry had done once he had left. He'd told him how the only reason he'd fucked the Russian back was because he knew it was the only way to get Ian out of there alive. And once that was done he didn't have the strength to pretend anymore so his dad had to find new ways to beat him straight. Ian let slip that he had talked to his brother about why he was in such a state, said he had confided in Lip once before, when he had first gone to juvie, but that he hadn't told him anything about what had happened to Mickey because it wasn't his secret to tell. All his brother knew was that they'd been found out and that Ian was not OK, but that he would be.

"Took you twenty minutes to grow the balls to come in here and say all that?" Mickey looked up from his magazine to Lip, he was uncomfortable and defensive, like Mickey could attack at any minute. But Mickey knew he would do anything to protect his brother so it wasn't fear he saw in Lip's eyes, it was determination. That's something Mickey could respect.

"Yeah, kinda wish I'd taken longer cause now I'm here I don't know how to put this." Lip fidgeted before jumping onto the counter and grabbing a pack of smokes. He sat there on the counter, back to Mickey, for a few minutes before either of them spoke again.

"The genius is speechless, huh?" Mickey smirked, "This must be good."

Again there was a silence.

"Look, I'm assuming this is about your brother and I'm guessing you don't want him to fucking know about it so you're gonna have to spit it out quick before he fucking gets back." By the look on Lip's face Mickey knew where this conversation was headed, he didn't fucking like it.

"OK, fuck it." Lip announced sharply as he jumped off the counter and spun round to face a quickly angering Milkovich. "I don't know what the fuck you and Ian are to each other, and I don't know if you even care but Ian's been talking about West Point for years now and I'm not gonna let him give up on his dream for a quick fuck every time you forget about hating the fact that you're fucking gay." Lip didn't let out a single breath as he spoke, almost as if he was afraid that if he stopped for even a fraction of a second he would lose his nerve.

Mickey could have lost it at any number of things Lip had said. He could have punched him for assuming Mickey was just after some quick fuck, for thinking Mickey didn't care. He could have fucking pounced when Lip had dared to fucking judge him, had dared to say the word 'gay', something not even Ian said in in front of Mickey because he wasn't ready to deal with that reality yet. He had already come to terms with what he was but he didn't need people labeling it, not now, not after his dad had once again tainted those fucking words beyond repair. Mickey could have lectured Lip about not knowing shit, about keeping his fucking nose out of things he didn't understand. But he didn't, because the only words he could focus on were 'give up on his dream'. Mickey knew all about Ian Gallagher and his fucking dream, he knew and he hated it. The thought of his Gallagher getting shot to shit in some foreign country scared him, made him sick to his stomach. So why did the thought of him giving up that dream make him feel fucking worse. And why was Lip acting like it was Mickey's fucking fault.

"Look, Mickey, if you care about my brother..." Lip started to say, but Mickey couldn't hear that. He couldn't hear how the only thing he could do to make sure Ian got to keep his dream was to end them for good, end whatever it was they shared. He had tried to end it and failed and now he never wanted it to stop because it felt too fucking good, and he was too fucked addicted to that feeling. He cut Lip off by jumping up from his seat behind the counter. Lip moved backwards, away from a potential attack, but Mickey didn't lash out. He walked past Lip and out the door without so much as releasing his breath.

"What the fuck did you say to him?" Ian stormed into the Gallagher house and pinned Lip against the wall as he strode towards him from the kitchen. He didn't want to shout in front of the rest of his family but he couldn't help it. He was frantic with worry because Mickey wasn't answering his phone, he was ignoring him again and Ian couldn't survive it, not this time. "Linda said Mickey stormed out of the store after you said something to him, he didn't come back and he hasn't spoken to me since. He was fucking fine this morning so what the fuck did you say to him?" Ian was as angry as he had ever been and Lip knew he couldn't fight back when his brother was like this.

The Gallagher's all stopped what they were doing, they stared at Ian with worried eyes as Lip pushed his brothers hands away from his throat so he could respond. "Ian, just calm down OK?" He pleaded.

"Fuck you, what did you do?" Ian was livid but he was also upset, he had been searching for Mickey since his shift ended hours ago. Tears stung his eyes as he thought of all the things that could be going through Mickey's head, all the reasons Lip could have given him to end things.

"I didn't get a fucking chance to do anything, he just stormed out." Lip breathed deeply when Ian released his grip on him and ran his shaking hands threw his ginger locks. He was still ignoring all the other Gallagher's as he looked back at Lip, eyes telling him he better continue with his explanation. "I just went there to talk to him about you, for years you've been going on about West Point, like fighting for your fucking country is all that matters. Now all of a sudden you're missing ROTC weekends and not paying attention to your grades. I'm not an idiot Ian, I know whats brought this on and obviously so does Mickey otherwise he wouldn't have left."

"You don't know fucking anything..." Ian started before the door slammed open and in stormed Mandy Milkovich.

"What the fuck has happened to my brother?" She demands, staring intently at Ian.

He could see all of his family silently screaming for an explanation. They knew Ian and Mickey worked together but they didn't know how anything to do with the Milkovich boy could cause this reaction in Ian. He was saved from having to explain when Mandy continued her tirade. "I get some weird fucking text from you asking where he is, telling me to give him some cryptic ass message when I see him. Then when I do manage to get hold of him and mention your name he starts fucking screaming and hangs up on me. Something has been going on for fucking ages and its obvious none of you are going to fucking tell me what the hell it is until i fucking ask so this is me asking?"

"I just need to find him, I just need to talk to him first, OK " Ian tried to show just how desperate he was for Mandy to drop the subject. If he ever got Mickey to talk to him again only for the older boy to realise he's practically outed him, not only to the whole Gallagher family but also to his own sister, then he was sure he would lose him for good.

"No, fuck that, what's so fucking urgent?" Mandy may have asked the question but everyone in the room wanted the answer, an answer Ian didnt have the strength to give.

Ian didn't know what to do so he stared at the only person who knew anything about the situation. He may have been furious at Lip but he was still hoping to find some resolution in his face. Lip took one look at his brother's desperate eyes and held up his hands in surrender.

"OK, first, this is my fault, so lay off Ian. Alright, I fucked up." Lip scanned around the room, looking everyone in the eye and demanding their attention. Once he had it he could see Ian relax slightly and he took a deep breath before he continued his, admittedly simplified, explanation. "I just noticed Ian was starting to slack on his West Point initiative and I panicked because I don't want him to miss out on his dream, so instead of bringing it up with him I took it out on someone else, someone I shouldn't have. I said some things to Mickey that I shouldn't have, OK " His admission to the others doubled as an apology to his brother. His eyes begged Ian to understand, to forgive, but Ian was too frantic, too lost. He just needed Mickey, he just needed to know where they stood, that they still stood together.

"You know that none of that makes sense, right?" Fiona interjected, she had her hands on her hips and her head tilted slightly to the side. Vee was standing next to her, one hand on her shoulder urging her to keep calm and not jump to conclusions. Kev and Jimmy were sat at the kitchen table, beers in hand, failing miserably to pretend they weren't interested in the conversation taking place in the next room. Carl and Debbie were both kneeling on the sofa, eyes flicking from Ian to Lip. Even Liam was silent, sat on the floor in front of the sofa, alternating between trying to stuff a whole crayon in his mouth and colouring the table with it. "Forgetting how the hell Mickey Milkovich is involved with all this," she turns from Lip to Ian, "Why the hell are you giving up on West Point?"

"He's fucking not!"

Ian hadn't realised that Mandy had left the door open when she barged in. He hadn't noticed Mickey walk in, didn't know how long he had been standing there, how much he'd heard. But he did know he was fucked. Even if he heard nothing but Fiona's last question, it was enough for him to know that everyone currently in the Gallagher house, including his fucking sister, knew there was something going on with Ian that involved Mickey. If this wasn't enough to push the older boy away then Lip's earlier visit was. Ian wanted to rush forward and grab him, make sure he couldn't leave. But he didn't want to make things worse and he knew he'd have to let go sometime. So he just stood there, silent and still. Willing the Milkovich standing in front of him to say something, anything to put his mind at ease. But fearing the worst when Mickey just glared, as silent as he was but twice as angry.

Lip opened his mouth to speak but Mickey spun to face him, silently telling him to shut the fuck up, then he turned his attention back to Ian and finally spoke. "You're not backing out now, you want West Point so bad, well you're fucking going." Mickey's anger seemed to dissolve into something else, Ian didn't quite know what but it sounded like acceptance, there was a force behind his words that he didn't understand. He thought people would be happy at the thought of him not marching off to fucking war. And with that realisation, coupled with Mickey's disappearing act, his own anger was back.

"Do I get a fucking say in that?" Everyone else forgotten, his comment was directed and Mickey alone.

"You already made your fucking choice, what you chickening out? You fucking scared Gallagher?" Mickey knew what he was doing, he was good at this. Winding people up, pushing their buttons, getting them angry, making them honest.

"Fuck you, what the hell do you know Mr 'Fucked for Life'?" Ian was hurting, he knew where this was going and he was putting up his barriers now so Mickey wouldn't get to see him break.

"What you wanna be like me?" Mickey shouted, enraged but not insulted. He knew what he was, he also knew Gallagher was better than that.

"Don't you fucking dare!"

"What don't be fucking honest, thought that was what you wanted Gallagher!"

"Like you know anything about fucking honesty!"

"Here's something honest, you're a fucking coward!" Mickey yelled as he raised a hand to point to Ian.

"Oh," Ian snorted. "Coming from the guy who hasn't been honest about himself a single day in his whole fucking life!" Self preservation be damned, Ian was angry, he wanted to give as good as he got, hurt Mickey like he was hurting. He was desperate for it not to end but he wasn't going to fucking beg because he knew it wouldn't do any good.

"At least I know what the fuck I am. You, you're all fucking talk. But when it comes down to it you run the fuck away!"

"I'm not fucking running!"

"What would you call it then? West Point's just around the fucking corner and you're running fucking scared!"

"I'm not fucking scared of West Point?"

"No?"

"No!"

"What are you fucking scared of then?"

"Oh I gotta be fucking scared of something just because I don't wanna go?"

"It's not that you ever wanted to go, it's that you wanted to fucking come back." Mickey stalked forward into Ian's space, he looked directly into the younger boys eyes as he continued. "Come back having done something fucking spectacular. Something be proud of, to make everyone here fucking proud. Like you owe them that, like you fucking owe anyone fucking anything!" Mickey spat out, rage refusing to subside.

"Mickey..." Ian didn't know when he lost his own anger but it was gone now. Mickey was talking to him with such a resounding honesty that he felt the tears in his eyes again, he fought them back. "Please..."

"No, fuck that. When you talk about leaving, about West Point, you're just saying the fucking words, saying what you gotta to convince everyone else. Its when you talk about coming back, about coming fucking home to this shit hole, that's when you fucking smile. That's when your fucking eyes light up and you forget about convincing anyone fucking else. That's what your working so fucking hard for!" Mickey held Ian's gaze and dared him to deny it, to argue with him.

He may not be wrong, but that doesn't mean he's right either. Ian doesn't know if he really gets it. He has to make him understand. "It's not just them Mickey, that I think about coming home to... you know that right?" He looks to the floor so he can't see Mickey's reaction, he's crossing a line that they don't cross. He knows that but he can't stop.

Mickey's on a roll, he's too far gone to answer Gallagher's question. He doesn't even think he knows the answer, either that or he does and it frightens him. So he acts like the question was never asked, he continue where he left off. "You're not fucking giving that up Gallagher. Not because you've found a new fucking version of settled that you don't wanna give up." Not because he's found Mickey. "You're gonna go and you're not gonna get your ass blown off or i will fucking kill you myself. It's gonna be fucking hard and you'll probably wanna quit a whole bunch of times. But you fucking won't. And then after you've finished proving your fucking point you'll come back and have some big, gay ass emotional reunion and you'll forget all about how fucking hard it was and you'll get that stupid fucking smile on your face again. The one you get now when you're just fucking thinking about it. Only then it will be fucking bigger, because there wont be any of the worry or fucking impatience. You fucking need that smile Gallagher... You fucking deserve that at least."

Mickey pauses for breath, he knows he's said too much, let too much show, but he wants Gallagher to have the world and he knows he cant give it to him.

"Mick..." Ian, is still fighting the tears, he doesn't know what he wants to say, he just wants Mickey to stop talking. He knows whats coming next, he knows that this is the excuse Mickey's been looking for, his excuse to end things between them.

"No! This..." he sighs, "I... am not worth that fucking dream so you so much as even fucking THINK about giving up on that for this," he waves his arms between the two of them, "Whatever that fuck this is, and it will end, I will fucking end it before you've even finished the fucking thought. You understand me?"

Relief washes over Ian like a tidal wave, he's not ending it. And then he realises what Mickey is acknowledging for the first time.

"So this is something?" He says, daring a small smile as he looks to black haired, blue eyed 'thug' in front of him.

"That's what you fucking took from that?" Mickey looks incredulously back at Ian.

"Mick, I understand OK. I get it, and you're right, about all of it. It is important, and I'm not giving it up. Not now, not ever. I promise." And Ian means that, every word, because now he has Mickey behind him, he has the strength for all of it. But he also needs to make himself clear, a determination takes over him before he next opens his mouth. "But... Mick... It's not just them I wanna come home to. You do get that right?"

He doesn't, and he doesn't want to because it's too fucking good to be true, and it will all end painfully. Its just a matter of time.

"You're just..."

Ian knows what he's going to say as soon as he stops thinking and opens his mouth to speak. "No, fuck you." He shouts with renewed anger. "You don't get to do that. You don't get to lecture me about my own fucking dreams and thoughts and feelings and then tell me I'm too young to know know how I feel about you. Or that I might change my mind once I'm away from here, away from you! I won't!" He's never been more sure of anything in his life, so he pushes further, "I need to know what this something is because I can't leave if it means leaving it behind. I can't go if I don't get to come back to it."

But Mickey's just as stubborn, and in his mind, much less naive. Gallagher's not going to put up with him much longer and he isn't going to change, he doesn't know how. All Mickey has to do is remind of that, he just needs to push back. "Do you even remember all the shit I've caused you?" He shouts with no real malice.

"I remember everything Mickey. I remember you gave the gun back, I remember you didn't turn me away when I came to your door a fucking mess because of Monica turning up. I remember shotgunning beers, you laughing and telling me about the time you pissed on first base, you accepting the job at the Kash and Grab even though you coulda got more money from the job Iggy found for you. I remember you punching a cop because I begged you not to kill Frank. I remember you saying I was nothing but a warm mouth to you."

Ian tried to reach out to Mickey, to rest his hands on his shoulders, to pull him closer, or at least hold him still. But Mickey shrugged him off. The red headed Gallagher was a vicious mixture of angry and upset. At the same time as tears were threatening to fall, his hands were bunching into fists ready to knock some sense into idiot in front of him. But Mickey wouldn't look at him, and he couldn't look around at the people he was painfully aware of watching them. All he could do was look at the floor and stop the memories flooding back.

"Enough..." he barked, he didn't want to hear anymore. "Fucking... Just enough," he tried not to sound desperate but Ian's words were ringing in his ears. And he wasn't stopping.

"I remember both times you were in juvie because of me, the first time I didn't so much as look at anyone else because I couldn't stop thinking about you. And the second time, after you ripped my fucking heart out..." Ian paused then because he didn't know how Mickey would react to that. They hadn't talked about that time, hadn't talked about feelings, especially in front of others. But Mickey didn't react, just looked deeper into the floor and gripped one of his elbows with his other hand. "I slept with whoever the fuck I felt like just to get you the hell out of my head. Because I believed every fucking word and I hated you for it." As Ian remembered that feeling he felt sick, he felt like he was going to break all over again.

"I didn't..." When Ian paused Mickey tried to take the opportunity to explain himself. But Ian didn't need his explanations, not now he had something to say.

"Then I remember you turning up at the bleachers and acting like none of it fucking happened. I should have been angry, I should have wanted answers. But all I could think about in that moment was you being back and me feeling whole for the first time in months. I remember you saying you missed me and all of my emotions were ready to explode with fucking happiness until you made that stupid remark about fucking in juvie and being glad to be out, like that's all it was. And just like that I was back to being nothing. I remember you fucking Angie Zago and feeling sick with anger or jealousy or maybe both..." He looked at Mickey to try and judge his reaction, to see if the answer was in his face. But Mickey didn't have anything to say to that, so he stayed quiet.

"... Then I remember you messing with me, flirting almost. I remember you making comments about Lloyd and hoping to god that it was out of jealousy because that would mean that I did mean something. Then you showed up outside the bar and I didn't for a second even think about not following you when the guy called the cops because the only person I ever want to be around is you."

He was being more honest than he had ever been, and it was the most real they had ever been together. Ian was standing still but his legs itched to get closer to Mickey, to hold onto him so he couldn't run away. But Mickey couldn't have run if he wanted to, he didn't know how to leave Gallagher anymore. But he really didn't like what this was building to and he didn't want to remember anymore.

"You're talking about this shit like I wasn't fucking there. I lived it too Gallagher. I remember it... I fucking know."

"Oh yeah?" Ian snorted, because how could Mickey know, they never talked about it, "Then you know that the day you helped me set up the assault course was one of the best days of my life because it was so natural, so fucking easy for you to be comfortable around me. You looked fucking happy that day, god knows I fucking was. And just when I thought that maybe that was it, that was how it would always be with us, casual, a glorified fucking friendship that I was strangely OK with because it meant I got to have you at least a little bit. Just when I realised I would rather have nothing with you than have everything with anybody else, you fucking kissed me and I was right back to hoping for more." Single tear drops from each eye fell down his cheeks at the memory of better days, easier days, but he just wiped them away and carried on. "Then I remember you asking me if I wanted to get away from the group home, inviting me over, watching films I was really not paying attention to because all I wanted to look at was you. I remember the best night of my fucking life," Ian took a deep breathe as his voice went deeper, full of regret and fear, "Then I remember your dad."

"That's fucking enough" He didn't want Gallagher to remember that, he couldn't protect either of them when it happened, and it almost broke him, he almost let his dad win, he almost lost Ian. He didn't care that the others in the room were hearing this, the ones he needed to protect from it were himself and Ian, his Ian. He stepped forward and grabbed the shaking Gallagher's shirt, "Stop now while you're still fucking breathing Gallagher."

"No." Ian shouted defiantly, because he wasn't remembering Mickey fail, he was remember the older boy saving his life and he needed Mickey to see it that way too. "I remember you jumping on his back to get him off me, you getting his attention, his anger, back onto you every time he looked at me or pointed the gun in my direction." Mickey hadn't failed Ian, as far as Ian was concerned it was the other way around. "I remember not being able to look at you even though you were the only thing I wanted to fucking see. And then the first time I tried to talk to you afterwards you ripped my heart out again, without fucking words this time because you wouldn't look at me, wouldn't talk to me and just like that it was over. You were gone..." His words stuck in his throat when fresh tears fell.

"Gallagher..." Mickey whispered as he loosened his grip on the others boy shirts, he dropped his head to stare back at the floor.

"But then I found you again, and it wasn't over. And I've never been so fucking happy in my entire life. Because we are fucking something, I know we are... Please... Mickey..." He was begging now, voice gone soft and gentle, anger replaced by desperation. He rested his hands on Mickey's hips. Finally making the contact he was craving.

"I didn't fuck her," still looking at the floor, Mickey elaborated, "Angie, I didn't fuck her"

Ian laughed a joyless laugh. "That's all you fucking took from that?" His smile faded almost instantly. Even though there was once a time when he wanted so badly to hear those words, right now there more important questions he needed answering, more important things he needed Mickey to say. But Mickey had to start somewhere so Ian didn't push him, he let him carry on, hoping beyond hope that there was more.

"That fucking paedo bitch said something about love being called a mistake and I couldn't fucking think straight." He let out a defeated laugh before he continued to say "Turns out I couldn't act it either because the second I got in her fucking house I drank all her dads whiskey, then when she went upstairs to her room I told her I'd be up in a minute then fucking bolted out the door."

"Nice Mick. Real classy." His smile lasted longer this time but his eyes willed Mickey to carry on.

"Didn't mean what I said either." He looked up and met Ian's eyes again. "After Frank walked in on us it got too fucking real. I needed you to fucking hate me, to fucking forget. Or I needed to forget." Mickey ran his hands through his hair, exhausted from the fidgeting, exhausted from the conversation. "I don't fucking know." He grunted with frustration, as his eyes wondered around the room, suddenly aware of all the shocked faces judging him. Then Ian shifted his body so he was all the older boy could see and Mickey continued, wanting to get the words out before he lost his nerve. "I needed to believe what I said," he sighed, "but I couldn't because it was never fucking true."

He lost his nerve, he couldn't think anymore. He had no more words and too many thoughts. A small part of him hoped Ian would leave it at that, accept it and move on, a bigger part of him knew that wouldn't happen.

"Mickey?" Ian all but begged him to continue. He voice just as exhausted as Mickeys, tears still stinging his eyes.

"Fuck! OK Alright. You're right, we are something. I know that's not enough, especially for your fucking family, who want the fucking world for you," he gestured his arms around the room before scraping them down his face to hide his pleading eyes. "But it's all I got Ian, maybe all I ever will have." His eyes desperately searched Ian's for confirmation that it was enough. When he couldn't decipher Ian's reaction he had to continue, he had to give a little bit more, he had to give everything he knew how. "It won't be fucking over just because you leave. And it will still be here... shit... I will still be here when you get fucking back." That last few words came out as more of a question than a statement and Mickey wanted Ian to just say something, anything, to give him some kind of answer.

All Ian could hear, at first, was his name. His name on Mickey's lips, like it belonged there. It was a sound he hadn't even realised he was longing for until Mickey had said it, so softly, so afraid. Then it hit him that Mickey was afraid, just as afraid as he was and that this thing between them wasn't something either of them had control over. Suddenly the rest of Mickeys words reached his ears and he just couldn't stop himself. The rest of the world, their fucked up history, his family and Mandy surrounding them with looks of confusion, all of it disappeared as he threw himself forward and cupped Mickeys face with his hands. He pulled the older boy forward and breathed his name as he crashed their lips together. It was no longer than the kiss Mickey had given him in the van, but it was deeper somehow. They pulled apart breathing heavily and Ian refused to let go of Mickey's face in case he took the opportunity to bolt. He leaned his forehead against his lover's and breathed him in as best he could.

"Fuck," he panted, "it's enough Mickey." He brought his eyes up to meet the other boys, "it's more than fucking enough."

Relief washed over Mickey as soon as Ian said the words. The closeness that would have once sent Mickey fleeing was now the only thing that kept him grounded. He needed it, he needed Ian. He brought his hands up to rest on Ian's cheeks, mirroring the younger boys hold on him. He looked deep into his eyes for a few more seconds before he brought their lips together again. Unlike their previous kisses this one lasted for as long as the two boys could make it without coming up for air. Ian immediately responded to Mickeys movements and parted his lips so that Mickey could deepen the kiss. It was passionate and full of promise. One of Mickey's hands held onto the back of Ian's neck, with the other resting firmly on his lower back. Ian's arms moved around Mickeys neck and rested on his shoulders, not tightly but with enough of a grip to stop the other boy should he try to move away. But Mickey didn't pull away, not even when they broke for air. He smiled against Ian's open lips and kissed him once again. A quick peck that caused the red head to laugh and open his eyes to look back at Mickey. He watched as Mickey took in the forms of all the people around them, the older boy exhaled a breath and rested his forehead back against Ian's.

"OK, don't take this the wrong fucking way Gallagher but I need to get the fuck out of here." His tone was soft, the words whispered but they still filled the otherwise silent room. He stepped away from Ian and his voice returned to normal as he continued. "I need to fucking shoot something, or hit something. Shit, I dunno, just need to do fucking something."

Ian didn't miss a beat before he asked, almost pleadingly, "Can I come?"

Mickey turned to smirk at the younger boy. "Would you even listen if I said fucking no?"

Ian returned the smirk, "Would you want me to?"

"Well come the fuck on then." Mickey said with no malice, his smirk transforming into a smile against his will.

Ian smiled brightly, a smile that only Mickey could draw out of him. He followed after his Milkovich immediately, leaving all explanations to his family for another time. Right now he needed Mickey more than they needed answers.