A/N: Happy little ficlet woo! Spoilers for the season finale, so remember! No editing, sorry :P It also might seem a bit like they made decisions too quickly, but the repetition of words had to do with that.

"Don't..." Mickey said, his voice quivering with despair and need.

"Don't what?"

The words were on his lips, barely coming out. One word and a part of another, but not enough to convince Ian otherwise.

By the time Ian turned around, Mickey had tuned out everything. Mandy calling him a pussy, his "wife" coming home. Laying in bed, he stared at the ceiling, rewinding back to that moment. It replayed over and over, a broken record that only stated "don't." The word filled his thoughts, and Ian's face replied as well. Mickey had the courage to attack his father, bat out the knees of many, punch a cop, and kill a man, but he didn't have the courage to tell Ian Clayton Gallagher not to leave him in the Godforsaken world he was stuck in. Before that moment nothing had been at stake. Just because there was a flimsy piece of paper stating that he was legally married didn't mean shit to him, even if it meant something to Gallagher. No what he told himself, Ian Gallagher was more than just a casual fuck.

Morning broke and the sun peered through the blinds. Looking to his side, Svetlana was gone, a pool of sheets in a rumpled mess, similar to his life. His eyes moved a bit to the right and saw the time, realizes that Ian would be leaving soon. Mickey's stomach churned, and he began to physically bend over, the pain too much to bare. Gallagher could die, shot, boom, dead. He couldn't imagine it, the pain he felt was terrible. Jumping up out of bed and throwing on some dirty clothes, he dashed out the door.

The car ride was fast, but getting there was the worst. Ian was second in line, and when Mickey pulled up, he realized what he was doing was the faggiest thing to do. He was doing exactly what he didn't want to do. He had resolved never to be anyone's bitch, because he wasn't. He was Mickey fucking Milkovich, and he didn't get all faggy for a boy. Just as he was about to leave, Ian caught sight of the car. Seeing the hurt in Ian's eyes was all it took to push through his self-hatred and get out. He walked over to the fence, and stood there, staring at Gallagher. Stepping out of line and walking over, Ian was about 6 inches from Mickey's face, albeit the wire fence between them.

"Don't," Mickey began. "Don't... go." He choked it out, because he hadn't planned what he was going to say. He only knew he didn't want Gallagher to leave, fueled by adrenaline.

"You're still married, you're not gonna go anywhere."

"Gallagher, fuck that. Just... don't go."

"What are you going to do about it?"

Sending him over the edge, Mickey forgot his surroundings and kissed Ian hard on the lips, through the cold metal. Everyone saw, a couple yelling "faggot" and "fairy." Mickey pushed through the fence and grabbed Ian's jacket, pulling him closer, intensifying the kiss.

"I can't stay if it stays like this," Ian said once they separated.

"Then, fuck, let's go."

"Where?"

"Anywhere, I don't fucking know."

"Okay. Let's go."